As a Presbyterian pastor, my husband, Bob, had always been sympathetic when a parishioner became trapped by dementia. His views on dealing with dementia had been shaped by his father, a man of deep Christian faith and an active layman.
There were five of us around the table: my husband, myself, my mother, and two medical students who had been assigned to dinner at our house. One of them said, “My parents always wanted more for me—a better education than they had, and a better job, and a higher salary. A better life. So isn’t it hard to have a child with a disability?
There is no state regulation for the profession of pastoral ministry. Although you need a license to practice medicine or law, or to open up shop as a massage therapist, you don’t need one to be a minister. There are expectations about what qualifies people for ordination, of course, but these expectations are changing.
In spite of my best intentions, somewhere around Halloween my ability to stay on top of things begins to unravel. It gets more and more difficult to wake up before the sun and harder to meet all the demands of each day, or even of the previous day. As things left undone accumulate and the hours of daylight diminish, a kind of lethargy sets in.
Marketplace Ministries, based in Plano, Texas, is the nation’s largest provider of workplace chaplains, a growing service industry. It has an annual budget of $14 million and sends thousands of chaplains into workplaces around the world. Although almost all workplace chaplains are Christian, their job is not to proselytize, and they relate to employees of any or no faith. Their job is more to listen than to speak. Company executives are discovering that productivity goes up when stress goes down (NPR, December 11).