Come close to my side, you whose hearts are on the ground, you who are pushed down and worn out, and I will refresh you. Follow my teachings and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest from your troubled thoughts.
Matthew 11:28-30, First Nations Version
When I die, I think I would like a wooden rocker engraved upon my headstone. There is something comforting about a rocker; and the powerful symbolism is one of gentle invitation. For me, that’s the message of the Gospel: a gentle call to unburden ourselves and find strength in true rest. But it’s not a solitary or lonely silence; rather, it is rest in good company, where we come to recognize ourselves in both our collective and individual stories. And that is the type of invitation that our community chaplaincy extends to people coming out of incarceration and into community.
On the rocking chair in my living room hangs the hat of a dear and faithful man I knew who has gone to his eternal rest. He was a philosopher, a husband, a father, a writer, a teacher, and a believer in the ever-closeness of the Creator and Lover-God. When listening to the pain-soaked stories of brothers and sisters who have treaded through the quagmire of our criminal justice system and are now attempting to rebuild their lives, I often think of this dear man’s life and how the simple act of just being in his company was an invitation to rest. He had a type of listening presence about him that invited humility because it exuded grounded hospitality. He was a good host. He embodied what Henri Nouwen says of hosting and hospitality:
Hospitality is not to change people but to offer them space where change can take place. It is not to bring men and women over to our side, but to offer freedom not disturbed by dividing lines… hospitality is not a subtle invitation to adore the lifestyle of the host, but the gift of a chance for the guest to find his own.[1]
When I think of the work of chaplaincy, I think of a humble host comfortable enough in her own story that she can offer room to hear the fullness of another’s.
My work in chaplaincy has deepened my belief that learning to humbly weep with those who weep, rejoice with those who rejoice, and recognize the imago Dei in every face we see and personal story we hear, is to invite God’s presence more fully into our lives. And when we lean into this type of living, as a small child completely trusts her father by leaning her full weight into his broad chest, we experience that grace is not one-directional, flowing from “I” to “them,” but simply between us.
But it is not just the call of a chaplain to practice this presence. We are each of us asked to be hospitable accompaniers to those in our realm of care. An accompanier is humbly rooted enough in accepting his own belovedness that witnessing the troubled thoughts, anxious thoughts, or thoughts of blame in the other that try to cover deeper ones marked with shame and unworthiness do not blow him away. Instead, he is able to loan the peace he has found to the weary and sometimes scared and raging traveler. The presence of an accompanier is a generous place where grace-receiving, forgiveness-finding, hope-holding, and meaning-making purpose can be nurtured.
When we come together in support of another’s spiritual, emotional, and physical health, we grow into learning how to respond to our fellow human being’s story. Philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre puts it this way: “I can only answer the question ‘what am I to do?’ if I can answer the prior question ‘of what story or stories do I find myself a part?’”[ii] And this is true for all of us. In providing witness to the story of another, in recognizing our commonalities of yearning and wounding and healing, we open ourselves to experience a mutual flowing of grace, and become active participants in an invitation to rest.
Joy Steem has enjoyed writing about the flourishing intersections between spirituality and culture. In her current role as Executive Director at Halifax Community Chaplaincy Society and Coordinator for Circles of Support and Accountability (CoSA), she gets to put those thoughts to work in tangible ways. Her articles and book chapters have appeared in the likes of Mythlore, Christianity Today Women, Fathom Magazine, Converge Magazine, Clarion Journal of Spirituality and Justice, The Inklings and Culture, and elsewhere.
[1] Henri J.M. Nouwen, Reaching Out (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1975), 71-72.
[ii] Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2013), 250,