Fruit of the vine and work of human hands

Hospital experience deepens human connection for seminarian 

It was my first cardiac arrest code and my first time watching the medical team try resuscitating a patient. I watched twenty or so physicians crammed into a room. One counted down as another compressed down on the patient’s body. The compressions were so physically demanding that multiple doctors rotated in, pushing oxygen through the body. The minutes seemed to creep by as each round of CPR continued, trying to get a response from the patient. All of it seemed to dissipate when the lead doctor said, “Thank you, everyone.” Like the moment at which a conductor puts down his baton, everything ended. As a train of doctors walked out, I watched the remaining nurses reverently clean the body and prepare it for the family.  

This summer has been an important series of firsts; being a chaplain allows me to see the work of doctors, nurses, and medical staff behind the scenes. As part of the team, I help the family receive hard news in the hopes that I can provide presence or comfort through the pain. In the early hours of the morning, all I could hear was a mother’s repeated questions: “I need to know why this happened. How could this have happened? Why did it happen?”  

There are no answers to these questions, so I could only stand with them within the unknown. One sister shared her grief that she had not been at the hospital. “In our family, someone is always at the hospital when somebody gets sick,” she said. “I wasn’t here. Maybe there was something I could have done.” The mother cautiously asked for prayer because she wasn’t sure if she was “religious right this moment.”  

I prayed with them. On a hunch, I shared with the family what I saw outside of the room during the cardiac code: the medical team overflowing out of a packed room, the nurse who cried because it was her first time losing a patient during her shift. All I could do was witness the amazing care and hard work of medical staff trying to save a man’s life.  

“Thank you,” the mother said. “I needed to hear that.”  

Clinical pastoral education (CPE) is a rite of passage in our formation program. Seminarians are required to complete an intensive summer unit as part of their advanced formation. I was intimidated by the many horror stories I’ve heard about it. I had just finished my second year at Catholic Theological Union, and it was my turn to take the tiger by the tail at the Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago. I wondered what kind of minister I would be to the sick and dying.  

The actual experience has been liberating and truthful. My teachers are those journeying through hope and tragedy. All of it has been a wonderful reaping of spiritual growth and maturity. I’ve loved the work. My program at Northwestern ends in August. After, I shall return to my theological studies at Catholic Theological Union.  

There is a line from the liturgy of the Eucharist that I love: “Fruit of the vine, and work of human hands, it will become our spiritual drink.” There is something beautiful watching human hands care, heal, and comfort each other. The work of a surgeon includes the use of a scalpel. The phlebotomist searches for a vein. Flowing blood reminds us that healing and care can make us bleed. The chaplain’s tools include their eyes, ears, heart, and soul. Openness, compassion, and connection are the fruit of God’s work within us. By sharing my experience, I bled for this family in their grief. The opportunity to serve families, patients, and caregivers has satisfied a deep thirst within me. I get to work alongside dedicated professionals providing care and healing to human beings.

Newton Lih, C.PP.S., is a seminarian in advanced formation with the Missionaries of the Precious Blood.