During my seminary years I was required as a part of the program to spend 3 months at a hos-pital to work as a chaplain in training. It is commonly referred to as C.P.E., i.e. Clinical Pastoral Experience. I spent the summer of my third year at a large metropolitan hospital.
The first week involved an intensive orientation program. We learned hospital protocol, how to read patients charts, etc. I was assigned to the major heart center along with the thoracic trans-plant unit. Once per week I was on call covering the entire hospital. There was never a dull mo-ment in the trauma center. I acquired quickly an even deeper respect and admiration for our healthcare workers.
When I arrived there in early June there was a patient in the transplant center that was waiting for a new heart. I will call him John (not his real name). As I reviewed his chart, he listed him-self as a fallen away Catholic. The question, “Would you like a visit from the Pastoral Care De-partment?” was checked with a big NO! I respected his wishes and would always pass by his room. After I walked past, I would just pause and offer a prayer for him. The chart did not say anything about prayer.
I did get to know the nursing teams well and they were grateful for our presence. I learned a little about John’s circumstances from the nurses. John, a man in his late forties, had been bedrid-den for over a month at that time. He was connected to an artificial heart machine. His heart was failing him, he had recently been divorced, he had just lost his business that at one time was very successful. As his youngest daughter left home for college his wife served him divorce papers. He was alienated from his entire family and former business associates.
A month passed and I don’t recall ever seeing a visitor in his room. In early July John’s health turned for the worse and he was taken off the waiting list for a heart. I received a call on my phone that he wanted to see a chaplain. He knew that he was dying. We had a long talk and I learned more of his story and his situation. He had grown up an only child in a strong Catholic family. He attended both a Catholic grammar and high school. He lost both of his parents during his college days. He stopped going to church after their untimely death. I encourage him to see a priest for the Sacraments of Reconciliation and Anointing of the Sick. He agreed and I arranged it.
The priest on call came and spent several hours with him. His ex-wife and his children were notified of his condition. They and other family and friends came to say their goodbyes. At his request I started to visit John several times each day and I would bring him Communion daily. Against the expectations of his medical team, John’s health started to improve, so much so that he was put back on the transplant list. A couple of weeks later John received a new heart.
As I was leaving my C.P.E. assignment on the last day of August John was being discharged from the hospital. His three daughters were there to take him to a rehab facility. He called me for one last visit. He said something to me that I will never forget. He said, “You know Glenn, there is a big difference between being cured and being healed. Through the gift of the great medical team here, through the gift of a young man’s heart, I, at least for the moment, have been cured.” Then he said, “More importantly I have been healed. I had alienated myself from God and from most of the people that I have ever loved and ever loved me. Somehow, through this ordeal God has healed my heart. And for that I am most grateful.”
Jesus went about curing every disease he encountered. Those numerous miracles are merely symbolic of the healing that Jesus offers to us all. He came to heal us of our alienation from God and from each other that is the result of sin. We call him Savior, and so He is. The word Savior comes from the Latin word