Hadley Kifner, M.Div., on being fully human

Reflections from a Resident

In her recently published memoir of faith, Barbara Brown Taylor claims “that the call to serve God is first and last the call to be fully human.” [1] As I reflect on this insight, sitting with a pager on each hip, seven months of residency behind me – and six more ahead – I am struck by the truth in this claim.

When I signed on for a year of residency, I knew I had signed on for a year of emotional intensity, personal growth, theological reflection, and challenge all around. I knew that listening to the stories of others would possess precious truth and profound pain. I knew that seeking grace and peace in the face of crisis and trauma would result in exhilaration and exhaustion. And I knew that learning to offer myself as vulnerable learner alongside colleagues would result in insight at times and frustration at others. In some vague way, I felt a sense of what would be the hardest parts of a year residency and what might be the most delightful. With all of this in mind, I entered the world of the hospital with equally matched tentativeness and expectation. At this halfway point of the residency year, I can easily admit that, so far, my adventures as a pediatric chaplain have surpassed anything I thought I knew, or didn’t know for that matter.

The most desperate and devastating moments of this residency so far have not been tidal waves: they have not come crashing down in a moment, leaving me discombobulated or stunned. Instead they have struck me at odd moments, often several days later, moving me to a place of confusion, unsteadiness, and uncertainty. When upon me, these moments sting and linger for a while but, so far and thanks be to God, they eventually have been replaced with a gentler wave of peace and balance. The most life-giving moments of this residency so far have not been grand moments of revelation, announcing themselves with bright light shining down or trumpets blasting. Rather, they have tiptoed up next to me during times when I have struggled to see the beauty, the serenity, and the hope around me. They have come and reminded me that this year – this life – is not only about serving God but also about realizing that no matter how faithful, how connected with the Divine, how spirit-filled, I am still human. Fully human.

To recognize the burden and ultimately the blessing then of serving God is to recognize that I am my most faithful when I am my most human. I am the most authentic chaplain not when I am reaching higher and higher for a theologically significant insight but when I am humbly grounded in the realities of truth in those around me and the God among us. This opens up space to take more risks, make more mistakes, ask more questions, and confess more doubts. It also carves out a place where, in the midst of it all, grace can slip in and fill up. I have learned that, as I dare myself to celebrate all the many parts of me that are far from perfect, I – for perhaps the first time ever in my life, and not without surprise – become more attuned to the uniqueness of my human self and can more deeply connect with the humanness of those around me. In turn, our shared humanity is more beautifully illuminated by God’s divine presence among us. And this, I have learned, is what it means to serve.

During this last CPE unit, I will pack and carry along with me the gifts of what I have learned up until now. Gratefully, I shall seek new ways to serve and try to live as fully human as possible. So here goes…

[1] Barbara Brown Taylor, Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith, HarperSanFrancisco: May 2006, preface.

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