In a few weeks, I will be retiring from my role as the University Chaplain at Yale and this will mark the end of 33 years of chaplaincy work from coast to coast with the last 16 spent right here at Yale. As I pack up my office and collect my thoughts about what all this means I am often foggy and at a loss to describe what I am feeling. I think that is to be expected, but I am struck by two things that are not at all foggy.
The first is the simple fact that I feel deep gratitude. I am grateful to have been able to do this work for so long and with such incredible people. The Yale Chaplain’s Office staff is by far the most incredible group of people on campus. They are authentically loving, wisely smart, utterly dedicated and truly fun. We have been through thick and thin together and whatever has been tossed our way we have responded with tender expertise and careful handling. I have been blessed to call
them colleagues, teammates and friends. I will miss them more than I could ever adequately express. May everyone be so lucky as to work in such a place as the Yale
University Chaplain’s Office.
The second thing that is very clear to me is that this work has indeed been holy and I have witnessed this holiness time and again. There is a small laminated photo of a young child in my office that has traveled with me in every ministry setting that I have had the privilege to serve. This child is peeking around the corner of a modest door frame with a joyous, sweet smile on their face and there is a quotation written next to the photo that simply reads, “To find the fullness of life we must go out of ourselves to find the Divine Presence in the other.” This statement is at the root of my work and has been for over three decades. Although this is an old photo, I strongly suspect that the Benedictine nun Sr. Joan Chittister is the author.
Whether I am engaging with people in times of horrible sorrow, great elation or the everyday matters of simply moving through life, this statement lives and breathes in my
bones. I have had the privilege to know and love individuals from numerous religious and spiritual communities and many others who do not identify with any specific group or set of beliefs. Each moment has been precious in its own way and each moment has allowed for me to remember to go out from myself, to be open to what that “Divine Presence” might be revealing about itself at any given time. I take comfort in the knowledge that this presence is bigger than I can ever fully grasp and yet is so very essential to my own understanding of how to approach not only my ministry, but life itself. The world is fraught with heartache that can render us feeling helpless at the sheer volume of injustice and pain that exists. And yet, this world is also filled with people who through their own rough and tumble humanness, are stunningly beautiful manifestations of light, love, bravery and hope. They bring delight and they bring healing. Although I am leaving this work, my prayer is that with God’s help, I will still be peeking around corners. I suspect I will stumble upon something holy.