Letter from Amy: May 7, 2025

Healing of the Paralytic, John Armstrong, 1893

Dear Incarnation,

As Will Montague shared at Sunday’s parish meeting, one of the benefits of a sabbatical for the congregation is that new leaders, gifts, and skills have an opportunity to emerge in the rector’s absence. One of the skills that the congregation will practice in my absence (and beyond!) is your care for one another. Throughout the summer, Katie, Russell, and several on-call clergy will be available to visit, listen, and pray with you. I have complete confidence in their pastoral wisdom and sensitivity (if I were in need of care, the pastor I’d want in my corner is definitely Katie!), but their capacity will be more limited because I am away.

For that reason, I am devoting a few of my upcoming letters to sharing some practical tips on caring for others in the congregation. I often receive requests for this kind of guidance, so I am providing it with the caveat that I am by no means an expert on pastoral care, and many of you are already extremely skilled and experienced in caring for others — please share your own tips and reflections in the comments! It gives me great joy to see how well this community already supports one another. The sabbatical will simply be a time to strengthen our strengths in this area.

This week, I want to focus on caring for someone who is experiencing illness, chronic pain, or recovery. This kind of care is close to my heart; I became a priest in response to a call to “be a minister of God’s love in places of pain.” I have also been on the receiving end of this kind of care many times. I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals with one of my kids’ chronic illnesses — and those experiences have been just as formative as anything I learned in seminary.

I will share a few points of guidance below:

• Get out of the way. When someone we care about is sick, we can feel helpless to fix things. That’s okay — most of the time, we are helpless to fix things. Caring for a sick person is not about fixing things, but about helping them to feel seen, understood, and loved in a time that can otherwise feel isolating. Be mindful of how your own needs might be getting in the way of your ability to offer care. The need to receive updates; the need to not feel awkward or uncomfortable; the need to feel needed; the need to fix things; the need to say the right words; the need to answer questions with no answer (like, “why is God letting this happen?”); the need to relate your own stories; the need to get it right — all of these can get in the way of offering care and comfort to a hurting person. In fact, they can inadvertently lay additional burdens on the sick person, expecting them to communicate, make decisions, affirm your efforts, and prioritize your comfort. When my mother-in-law was dying, I remember a visit from a well-intentioned pastor whose discomfort with silence was evident to all; he required a steady stream of jovial small talk that felt draining. As much as possible, decenter your own experience of the other person’s illness. Focus on kind, simple gestures that don’t require a response. Allow them the space to talk or be silent, cry, laugh, ask questions, express anger, or simply be distracted from their circumstances for a little while. Often, less is more. I really like this simple guidance from theologian and cancer survivor Kate Bowler.

  
  

• Prayer. When someone is sick, our prayers can feel feeble in the face of their suffering. But be assured: our prayers are a source of stability and comfort to a sick person, a quiet witness to the presence of God in our midst. There is a short prayer liturgy called “Ministry to the Sick” on page 225 of the Book of Common Prayer. If you’re visiting someone in the hospital or at home (say, delivering a meal post-surgery), this can be a great, quick way of offering to wrap up a visit in prayer. This liturgy calls for anointing with oil by a priest or authorized person; don’t be put off — you are now an authorized person! Just skip the oil prayer and you’re good to go. You may also ask a sick person whether they are comfortable with your laying hands on them; a firm-but-gentle hand on the shoulder (nothing too light/ticklish, and no rubbing!) is often best. Although following a liturgy may seem a little formal, it often feels safe and reassuring for a sick person to receive a tried-and-true liturgy rather than feeling the pressure to conjure up extemporaneous prayers or brace themselves for well-intentioned but inappropriate prayers. (Please, do not pray in a way that subtly preaches to the sick person or presumes to know God’s design in their suffering!) If a whole liturgy feels like overkill, there are many helpful collects on pages 231-235 of the prayer book. The Compline prayer liturgy is also especially comforting in times of illness.

  
  

• Hospital visits. Prolonged or unexpected hospitalizations can feel lonely and disorienting, and you’d be surprised how often someone is happy to receive a short visit. You can text to say something like, “I thought I’d stop by the hospital briefly to say hi and pray, if you’re up for it; need me to bring you anything?” If even that feels too invasive, you can also stop by the hospital and leave something with the nurses to deliver: a card, a paid parking pass, a meal or snack. Small gestures mean a lot, and lift the burden of decisions from the sick person. During one of John’s hospitalizations in the NICU, a woman I barely knew left me a bottle of cold Sprite and a card that said, “It is a holy privilege to hold a very tiny baby.” I don’t even like Sprite, but her kindness made me feel seen at a vulnerable time, and I’ve never forgotten it. Under most circumstances, you can simply call the hospital and ask for visiting hours and the patient’s room number. If the person is immunocompromised, bring a medical-grade mask (or ask for one from the nurses on arrival), wash your hands, and strictly follow all sanitation protocols.

  
  

• Meals and household tasks. When you or someone you know is experiencing change, loss, or sickness, it can be a great relief to not have to think about where dinner is coming from. You can always simply offer to bring a meal yourself; but Incarnation is also happy to rally the church to deliver meals for all sorts of circumstances; something doesn’t have to be sufficiently terrible to merit asking for a little help. You are welcome to fill out the meal request form for yourself, or share it with someone you think would be helped by a few (or many) meals. In addition to meals, offering to run errands, do laundry, walk the dog, clean the kitchen, or take the kids to the park can be a simple way to bless someone who is sick.

That's it for now! I'd love to hear your comments and experiences on both the giving and receiving end of care. Thank you for being a congregation that does this so well — it's wonderful to witness.

Love,

Amy