How do you know that you know someone? I don’t mean to know their name, know where they live, know what they do to make a living; not those kinds of things. Though that sort of information can be helpful – it tends to be among the first details we ask someone we have just met – it can form a façade behind which the real person inside safely resides. What do we need to know to see someone at a deeper level?
Our dogs gather information by smell. People are not like that, thank goodness, or our noses would be bigger and our tolerance of personal space invasion a little different. We humans tend to be visual creatures, often relying on what we see to form first impressions. To test this, let’s try a little exercise. You meet someone new, well dressed, expensive car, bright smile; what do you see? Now, someone shabbily dressed, dirty hands and face, a few missing teeth, holding a sign asking for money; what do you see?
Hold that thought and let’s move to a hospital room or skilled nursing facility – these locations can level the playing field, so to speak. Rooms tend to look alike; patient gowns are the same for everyone. You meet someone new there, what do you see? A medical case, a diagnosis, a treatment plan, an unfortunate turn of nature? Or do you see a lifetime of hopes and dreams leading up to this point, the unfinished script of the life story you have stepped into in that moment.
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood.
– 1 Corinthians 13:12
I remember a time while ministering as Chaplain at a children’s hospital seeing a little girl, 4-5 years old, a patient, asleep with an old-fashioned barrette in her hair. What I saw was not hard to miss – a mother’s tender love that went into putting that barrette in place. Mom confirmed for me later that the barrette was a family heirloom given to her by her great grandmother. She told me that seeing it there gave her hope.
The loveliest masterpiece of the heart of God is the heart of a mother.
– St. Thérèse of Lisieux
So, when asked, what do you see when looking at that medical patient or family member? Do you sense their fear, anxiety, and uncertainty, as their life narrative has just taken a sudden unexpected turn into uncharted territory? Before jumping to conclusions or judgements about what we think we see, we should recognize that there is a narrative, a life story that must be honored.
We are all participants in a personal, familial, communal narrative; a story woven as a tapestry of our life and the lives of those we encounter. In his book, Hope in Pastoral Care and Counseling, author Andrew Lester describes our sense of self, our identity, as being built piece by piece as we form our experiences into stories, integrating those stories into our ongoing core narrative. Lester asserts that we cannot really know someone, their personal identity, until we begin to engage with that person’s story; the narrative that communicates their values, from where they derive meaning and purpose, and their unique human characteristics. Additionally, often embedded within a person’s faith, religious tradition, or sense of the sacred, will be additional narrative that provides perspective on such concepts as hope, suffering, prayer, the divine. Whenever possible, bringing these two narratives together for someone becomes the heart of pastoral ministry as they attempt to make sense out of, and find meaning in, their present situation.
What do you see? Do you see a lifetime of hopes and dreams leading up to this point and the unfinished script of the life story you have stepped into in that moment.
When working in a hospital or hospice as a Chaplain, I would usually be meeting someone – a patient, family member, caregiver – for the first time under less than ideal, often stressful, circumstances. On top of that, I typically only had a brief period to assess the situation to try and provide meaningful support. I learned very quickly that looks are often quite deceiving. So let me offer some insight that helped me to “see” people well enough to be able to offer assistance.
When I was going through my Chaplain internship, I was blessed to be assigned to a Palliative Care team in a large hospital. On top of being an excellent doctor, the physician on that team was a wonderful human being and mentor. He showed me a simple but effective method of getting to know the person we encountered better, be it a patient or family member.
We started by asking what they already knew about their situation including prognosis and care plan. Occasionally, we would discover that their understanding was lacking or different from the medical record. Too often, they were simply overwhelmed with information and/or the circumstances at hand. Step one was to get folks on the same page medically with the current situation. Outside the healthcare setting, this part of getting to know someone can involve them telling you their perspective on what is happening in their life currently, good and bad. Basic information conveyed through sincere, non-judgmental, empathetic communication creates the foundation for building trust – a key in any relationship.
The next query that helped assess where they were mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, was to inquire about their hopes. Undoubtably, we would frequently hear, “I hope to get better,” or “I hope to be my old self again.” There were times we would hear of hopes that seemed unrealistic. But hope can be a tremendous motivator – it is when hope is elusive or has turned to despair that other interventions became necessary. Often, in revealing their hopes they would provide insight into where they draw a sense of meaning and purpose, the things for them that are life giving.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
– Romans 15:13
It was then important to ascertain the other side of the coin; their fears. This was frequently very revealing; “I’ll never again do the things I most love,” or “I don’t want to be a burden to my family,” or “I’ll lose my independence/freedom,” or “I don’t want to die in the hospital.” This is where we would see how their current situation could threaten and potentially be a disconnect with their sense of meaning and purpose, becoming life draining.
For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.
– Isaiah 41:13
Lastly, we would want to know what resources the individual had available going forward for assistance with their situation; significant relationships, connections with family/friends, caregivers, faith community, and/or a sense of what is sacred or divine.
In other words, the things that would provide or support meaning and purpose while they were healing, recovering, or living out the rest of their days.
Knowledge, hopes, fears, resources – if you want to see someone more clearly in any context, that formula seems to work. It was a model that served me well for making spiritual assessments and aiding those I met during trying circumstances.
Central to that assistance, by talking about it openly, they often derived a heightened self-awareness of their situation. Typically, what ensued was a better understanding of expectations, a greater sense of connection with purpose, and enhanced control over the dynamics determining outcomes.
God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.
– 1 John 4:9-12
Coming back to those earlier scenarios where I asked, “what do you see,” has your perspective changed at all? After shadowing that Palliative Care physician a few times, I know mine had. I no longer saw a medical record number, a case, a diagnosis – I saw a person more clearly defined by what they knew and did not know, and how that knowledge, or lack thereof, fed their hopes and fears. I saw how their connection with resources was related to their sense of control over their circumstances. I saw how this all provided a delicate balance that shaped meaning and purpose, central to seeing oneself, and anyone else you want to know, at a deeper level.
By looking with intent at honoring their story, we are respecting their personhood – after all, we are the sum of our life stories, driven by a sense of purpose. And by virtue of our common humanity, every person is worthy of the gift of our respect.
What do you see when your life narrative meets the narrative of someone else going through a tough time? Then ask yourself, “What do I want them to see when they look at me?”
Reflection questions:
- This short video titled “Empathy: The Human Connection to Patient Care” produced by the Cleveland Clinic still chokes me up; I suspect there will be at least one person in the video that you “see,” and can relate to:
2. Take a moment and reflect on these questions for yourself and/or a loved one: What are your hopes? What are your fears? If you were suddenly hospitalized, what are your resources that would help promote your healing and recovery?
3. Fear is recognized as a natural human biological response to threats and danger. Scripture presents numerous examples of how, through faith, we are to face our fears as Christians: 2 Timothy 1:7, Psalm 23:4, 1 John 4:18, Isaiah 41:13, to name a few. As you reflected about your fears in Question #2 above, how does your faith inform you when facing those fears?
4. Check out Bishop Robert Barron’s Sunday Gospel Sermon for March 10, 2024 – Face Your Fears: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tt5L6REQpVA
Scripture References
1 Corinthians 13:12 Romans 15:13 Isaiah 41:13
1 John 4:9-12, 18 2 Timothy 1:7 Psalm 23:4
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