Chaplains are called to be present. We hold, we witness, we support others in accessing their spiritual resources, and we accompany. We honor the grief, loss, and love by seeing and hearing them when it is unbearable.
It was a reunion of souls and an opportunity to meet new partners in true allyship.
During this month of Adar, we read the parshiyot about building the Mishkan, and we are challenged to reflect on what it means to make space for the Divine in this broken world.
In my work as a palliative care chaplain, our team supports patients and families in inhabiting the space where their worst days and biggest fears intersect with their greatest hopes and connections.
Healing is as miraculous and worth celebrating as the burning bush.
I believe we’re at a crossroads where shul life can either thrive or decline. And the outcome is not in the hands of a few powerful rabbinic leaders. It’s up to each of us.
For most of us this year, we have missed the natural human psychosocial cues we give each other, which are the building blocks of empathy and awareness beyond the self.