Lost in translation

Read Stephen’s earlier essay, “After theology, what?” here.

Whither chaplaincy?

I am a polemic writer. I exaggerate things because we are acclimated to not thinking.

See?

So, this is my style. There’s also a very human story behind my style, but I don’t want to distract us from the topic. But I begin with a preamble of disclaimers because I have a lot of respect for what is being created at the Innovation Lab, and I am thankful for this forum. I am uncomfortable with the direction of chaplaincy, and I am uncomfortable with how hard it is as clergy to have a theological conversation with colleagues. It cannot be this hard.

Something needs to be said about the problem of translation. We are in the process of developing a literature that is respectably grounded in research. This literature is meant to bridge spiritual care providers with the brain trust of secular institutions where they serve.

Dead and living languages

Fine. This needs to happen. But what is being passed on is this “language of translation” and it is the only language being taught. Soon, it will be the only language being spoken. When the only language being spoken is the “language of translation” it becomes the language proper. The original tongue dies. Kind of like Latin. And this is a disaster to the imagination of the spirit. It becomes impossible to think new thoughts. As Salman Rushdie described, we lose the power of story, because there is no native tongue to carry it. And for crying out loud, we are story tellers and story collectors! How can we afford to lose the power of story? I’d like to see a research paper on that. Talk about a cost/benefit comparison.

We cannot use this “language of translation” to sustain and discern the fruits of spiritual wisdom. It is – simply – inadequate. We can only use it to describe by analogy. Socrates said, “To tell what it really is would be a theme for a very long and divine discourse; what it resembles, however, may be expressed more briefly and in human language.” So professionals have to translate themselves, often and fluently, but they cannot lose the ability to think new thoughts, especially in reaching for the spiritual.

Whose goals?

Our pitch is about trying to get a seat at the multidisciplinary table. This is the hope and promise of holistic care and outcome-oriented chaplaincy. The nurse brings their point-of-view, the social worker, the palliative care team, et cetera, and the sweet spot is where all these things converge for the sake of the patient. But in order to have anything to bring to the table, this chaplain would have to know his own mind about what he wanted to bring to the patient from a perspective that is decidedly spiritual. Let me build this a little further. Professional chaplains are used to the meditation: How can this or that pastoral function fit in to the organizational values of the larger institution? That’s normal. We want to think that way if we want to increase resources.

But what if we flip it? What if we ask how does the larger institution with its values and resources fit into the goals and mission of the chaplain? What even are the goals of the chaplain?

<crickets>

I understand that in the pluralism of professional chaplaincy, different clergy are going to say different things. I was not expecting silence. The goals of the chaplain cannot be to translate the translation. That’s just confounding; they’ve got to be something real.

If I’m going to be effective at translation something into the ethos of corporate healthcare, I better well know what that something is. Or else I’m just going to be blathering word salads of buzzwords.

Tending the flame

I’ll tell you this. That something is a flame. That flame needs to be fed, developed, and stoked. It needs to grow and change, because fire is always changing, even as it changes all things. We need a 2022 fire of chaplaincy, and it will burn blue for this tradition and green for that. During Lent for Christians, mine burns purple. But we have to keep the fire going if we are going to have a perspective that worth translating in the first place. Fire, by the way, sustains a people. It keeps chaplains going, and it keeps the people they serve going. Do you think that chaplains without the sacred fire are going to help staff retention, or improve patient outcomes?

Fire keeping is a task. Among many things, it requires research, reading, and poetry. It has to be nurtured and developed. It has to be transmitted. Darkness happens real fast—real quick. Look around.