Faithfully witnessing to the dying in Uganda

Heather Bixler: Hospice Africa, Makindye, Kampala, Uganda

Denise and I have had to grapple with what it means to faithfully witness to those who are dying, particularly as hospice chaplains and volunteers. How do Christian chaplains (or Muslim chaplains, for that matter) who are deeply convicted of the Truth of their faith address the spiritual needs of those patients who are religiously Other? This is the tension of living in a pluralistic society with which chaplains must contend. In fact, it is a tension every Christian who believes in the uniqueness of the Christian story must come to terms with, as well.

There are some Christians (and other religious groups) that operate under the assumption that they are the sole instruments of salvation for those with whom they come in contact, and that if they don’t “save” them before they die, they will be condemned to hell for all eternity. Frankly, I find this anthropocentric soteriology unsettling, not to mention theological untenable. The goal of hospice care is not to win the souls of the dying before it’s too late. As a Christian caring for the dying, I am called to recognize them as the mysteriously “blessed” of the beatitudes – the weak, the mourning, the sad and broken and poor. And with those people, I both encounter and proclaim Christ.

I think that most hospice workers would say that impinging their beliefs, however True, upon a dying patient is wrong. Urging a patient to “accept the truth” as they lay dying rather than resting in the knowledge that our (and their) salvation lies in the hands of a crucified and risen Lord (who, through his own death, raised us all to life) borders dangerously on the edge of self righteousness. I do believe Christ can be “betrayed” by completely eliminating him from the death bed conversation. But I also believe that our attempt at orchestrating death bed conversions, particularly for patients who have already made peace with God and are ready to die with dignity, is also betrayal of Christ. To assume that the main access to faith is purely cognitive and didactic is in and of itself a diminution of the Christian message.

My job is not to secure their place in heaven, because in my theological opinion, Christ did that on the cross two thousand years ago (see Karl Barth). Instead, my job is to care for them, to listen attentively and without judgment, to answer honestly when asked, to speak truth when truth is ready to be heard, to change bandages on incurable wounds and hold trembling hands, to experience their suffering as my own, but ultimately, to give as Christ has given to me. And I firmly believe that those who are “on their way out” so to speak are in a far better place to ponder (and perhaps understand) the Truth of God’s saving work, not to mention the power of the Resurrection, than a healthy, able-bodied, able-minded Duke Divinity MDiv student like myself. So, I’m not sure if we need to equip ourselves with a sophisticated account of how God’s saves people in Christ in order to minister to the dying. What hospice workers, and chaplains, need most are those habits of being and doing that witness to the Kingdom of God to those already broken by the fallen world. I think Catholic lay-woman, doctor and hospice worker, Shelia Cassidy, says it best:

“I believe that those who work with the handicapped, the dispossessed and the dying have very expensive ringside seats at the fight: we have a close up view of players who are stripped of sophistication and pretence, of the comforting outer garments with which men cover their nakedness, their vulnerability and their shame. Surely then, we have a duty to report back the truth of what we see: that the facts are friendly; that the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor – that the kingdom of God is among us, and that herein lies our hope.” (Sharing the Darkness: Spirituality of Caring, 3)

Witnessing the Christian message involves becoming the Christian message, Christ’s hands and feet. We as the Church are called to embody Christ through our actions as a sign to the broken, fallen world. In the words of St Francis of Assisi, we are called to go forth and proclaim the good news of the gospel wherever we go, and “when necessary, use words.” As Michael Cartwright states, “what Christians throughout the world can do – with confidence and humility – is to bear witness to the good news by fostering the kinds of habits and practices that enable would-be disciples of Jesus Christ to remember the saints and the martyrs.” If we truly believe that God has created all, loves all, and seeks relationship with all, we can safely speak of this as the universal spiritual need of human beings to be in relationship with God. And if we want to truly and faithfully witness to that God, we can do so by our ethos, as signs pointing to God through our care, particularly our care of those deemed useless by society (the dying).

St Francis’ prayer is, I believe, a perfect prayer for those who work in Hospice: “Grant that I may so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; for it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.” Could it be that the simple, embodied acts of patient consolation, humble understanding, and compassionate love proclaim the True Hope in found in Christ to those dying? I think St Francis would say so. And could it be that, in turn, caring for the poor and weak and broken-bodied assists us in working out our own salvation, coming face to face with the True Hope found in Christ? I think St Francis would say so, as well.