It was a rainy Wednesday in Waco, Texas, and I was just starting my shift at Hillcrest Hospital. I had visited a few of the new patients and was headed to the ICU to see more when I walked into a room where an older gentleman was reclining on his bed with a dialysis machine humming. He had tubes coming out of all places and looked physically uncomfortable. I greeted him, introduced myself as the chaplain for the night shift, and asked if I might offer a prayer for him for healing. He made small talk with me but looked at me skeptically for a while before he replied. He said that he didn’t feel right about a woman praying for him, because “women don’t belong in the pulpit.” But he offered to pray for me. I agreed. I’m not one who turns down being prayed for. He started praying for his health and his kidneys, and he then prayed that God would reveal himself to me and show me that I’m wrong for being a “pastor lady.” He prayed that I would read the scriptures and understand the book of Titus, in which God “clearly states women should mentor women only.” The patient prayed on for a minute or two. It was almost like he was preaching to me with his eyes closed. After his prayer, he thanked me for coming by. I smiled and said I was the only chaplain on call for the next fourteen hours so if he needed a male chaplain, he would have to wait until the morning. I wished him a good night.
I left his room with a mixture of feelings. I was thankful for his honesty, but unlike how I usually feel with most patients, I felt a bit sorry for him. I wondered what he might have missed out on in life as a result of his opposition women in ministry. His words were not hurtful to me, but they were a little bit shocking. I know there are people who prefer a male over a female chaplain, but I have never had anyone pray against me. In my pre-seminary days, I would have been discouraged and upset, but in this season of life, I simply journaled about the experience, prayed for him, and moved on. I am thankful that I didn’t show any signs of frustration when he was talking, because I would hate to give him any more reasons to dislike clergywomen.
My very next visit was with a lovely lady in her nineties and her two closest girlfriends. I felt like I was intruding on a party when I walked in the room. There was so much laughter and energy. Balloons and flowers were everywhere. The two friends were telling funny stories. I introduced myself and all three women had huge smiles on their faces when I said I was the chaplain. One asked my denomination, and when I said Baptist, she exclaimed “OH MY we have a Baptist FEMALE chaplain. Oh praise the Lord!” The three women were delighted to be visited by a young, female chaplain. They told me what they wanted me to pray for, and then they each took turns praying over me. I can count on one hand how many times a patient has offered to pray for me. These women were delightful and poured love back into me. When I left this room, I smiled and thought God had just reminded me of all of the reasons I had become a minister.
As I was reflecting later in the week, I was reminded that kindness was required in both situations. The man was very ill and needed significant medical care. He did not need me to judge his theology or argue with him about Bible passages. He needed a kind, comforting presence, someone who was willing to listen. The precious women also needed kindness. And in the midst of my day of unusual visits, I learned that I can maintain my pastoral identity and honor the views and beliefs of all of my patients. This tension can be tricky, but I’m thankful to have the privilege of serving and also thankful that we call this ministry our pastoral “practice” since it often requires us to keep practicing.
Sarah Miller is a hospice chaplain in Waco, Texas.