Chaplains: Professionally Compassionate
As I step out into the world of clinical chaplaincy, I find myself without an anchor. With 20 years of pastoring experience, I have a fairly solid foundation for serving in the church, but what orients my faith and practice as a professional spiritual care provider? What are the parameters of my contributions to a care team? Any good and lasting endeavor requires a foundation—a purpose. “For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it?” (Luke 14:28). To be an effective Reformed Baptist clinical chaplain, I need to build a similar tower upon the bedrock of God’s Word.
I reject the notion espoused by some who say, “Professional chaplains must be able to move aside their own belief system(s)/theology and support the system of the person to whom they are providing chaplaincy care.”[1] Chaplaincy is not at odds with compassion. It is not something that must be moved aside but embraced. Christian theology not only allows for, but demands compassionate care for all mankind, in spite of the spiritual state of the sufferer.
I set out to build a theological foundation for the Christian chaplain through a careful study of the Parable of the Good Samaritan and other relevant biblical passages. The Parable of the Good Samaritan is the locus classicus of chaplaincy, and the word upon which the entire parable turns should be the starting point of any meditation concerning clinical spiritual care. That word is compassion.
Jesus Christ came into the world and was moved with compassion. After John the Baptist was beheaded, Jesus sought solitude in the wilderness, but the multitudes followed him out of their cities, apparently bringing their sick friends and family with them. Jesus did not separate himself from them, but “was moved with compassion toward them, and he healed their sick” (Mat 14:14). In those days, Jesus was serving as the sole physician, nurse, and chaplain. He couldn’t escape the crowds of sufferers. And what motivated his physical and spiritual wellness program? “He was moved with compassion toward them.” The Greek word behind the English phrase “moved with compassion” is in the passive voice which implies this affection is happening to Jesus, not by Jesus. The Light of the World came into contact with the pain and suffering of this world, and compassion overcame him. This compassion is the moving cause of his healing ministry, here and in passages like Matt. 14:14, 15:32, 20:34; and Mark. 1:41, 8:2.
The quintessential passage that describes Christ’s compassion is the Parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10. In the parable, a certain man fell among bandits on the road to Jericho, was robbed, wounded, and left half dead (Luke 10:30). A Jewish priest and a Levite dispassionately ignored the sufferer, and the crisis appeared bleak. But the parable turns on the word compassion. A third traveler comes upon the sufferer: “a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him” (Luk 10:33). Once again, this verb is in the passive voice meaning the Samaritan was moved with compassion. This movement of compassion resulted in the Samaritan bandaging the sufferer’s wounds, setting him on his own pack animal, and taking him to an inn in Jericho where he paid for the man’s care. Jesus presents this parable as the reasonable service of all who share in humanity, saying, “Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves? And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise” (Luke 10:36-37).
Jesus is moved with compassion when he encounters the pain and suffering of mankind. This movement of affections occurs in his human nature, not his divine. The divine nature cannot be moved by anything outside of himself, for He is immutable (James 1:17). God the Father cannot be moved to compassion. Therefore, Christ was moved to compassion in his human nature—the nature which he took upon himself at his incarnation, which he shares with all of us.
Therefore, it is this shared humanity that moves Christ to compassion upon the plight of human sufferers. “For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). For every high priest “can have compassion on the ignorant, and on them that are out of the way; for that he himself also is compassed with infirmity” (Heb. 5:2). Ultimately, this compassion allows Christ to bear the infirmity of mankind’s sin on the cross. Secondarily, it allows Christ to be moved with compassion for the earthly plight of his fellows.
Since all Christians share Christ’s human nature, we are to be likewise moved. “But whoso hath this world’s good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him?” (1 John 3:17). Since Christ’s human nature was moved with compassion for the needy, it is assumed that we will be moved with compassion as well.
This movement of compassion, just as it was with Christ, will occur when we come into contact with suffering. Paul tells us that in allowing ourselves to be transformed by the renewing of our mind, we will rejoice with them that rejoice and weep with them that weep (Rom. 12:2, 15). This implies that the more we are transformed, the more empathy we will experience toward sufferers. Although the Holy Spirit can move anyone to compassion, he mostly reserves this good fruit for those who now walk as children of light (Eph. 5:8,9). Compassion is a movement of the Spirit of Christ working in us “to will and to do his good pleasure” (Php. 2:13).
And just like with Christ, we are especially moved to compassion when we come into contact with the suffering of our fellow human beings. This is part of what the author of Hebrews calls letting brotherly love continue: “Remember them that are in bonds, as bound with them; and them which suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body” (Heb 13:3). You don’t have to suffer incarceration to be bound with the incarcerated in compassion. You don’t have to suffer the exact same adversity as your brother to experience brotherly love. The prerequisite to compassion is not shared experiences, but fellowship with Christ in his sufferings on behalf of mankind (2 Cor. 1:3-5).
All those who commune with Christ by faith are little by little, more and more, conformed to the image of Christ (Rom. 8:29), having their compassion sanctified. The movement of compassion toward mankind is by the Spirit working in Christ’s people by faith, empowering each of us to act upon that compassion according to our shared humanity. However, as with all of God’s gifts, there are some who are called to something more.
Some, like Nehemiah, Jesus, the Apostles, Stephen, and Philip, were moved with an extraordinary compassion which led them to leave their vocations to concentrate on spiritual care. This kind of compassion flourished in the first decades after Christ. Clement wrote that many in the early church gave themselves into prison in order to ransom their imprisoned brother, and many willingly sold themselves into slavery and used the money to ransom their brother out of slavery.[2] All Christians are capable of great acts of mercy. However, the Spirit does move some to extraordinary, full-time compassion.
It is reasonable, therefore, that those who are moved by the Lord’s compassion in an extraordinary way might, like the apostles and deacons of the early church, make compassion their vocation. In Acts 6 for example, Stephen and Philip, among others, were chosen and set apart for vocational mercy toward the widows of the church. Just as some are called to minister the word, some are called to compassion in the field of chaplaincy.
Those who are called to vocational compassion need instruction and experience in the finer details of compassionate spiritual care. Education and training are indispensable for effective preaching ministries, and so they are for effective mercy ministries. For three years, the Apostles followed the greatest mercy minister the world has ever seen, studying and experiencing the Lord’s compassion on multitudes of people. Soon after his death, resurrection, and ascension, we find Christ’s disciples fine tuning their own massive ministries. Peter, for example, became so proficient at healing, that sufferers sought a cure from his mere shadow (Acts 5:15). Compassionate elders in the church were so highly practiced in compassionate care that James said with confidence, “the prayer of faith shall save the sick” (James 5:13,14).
Peter’s healing ministry differed slightly from that of Stephen and Philip, whose main subjects were those within the community of faith. Although Peter was a respected leader of the early church, his healing ministry reached the world at large. In this way, it could be said that Peter functioned like a modern chaplain as well as one of the pillars of the church. Clinical chaplains seem to follow in Peter’s healing footsteps, and ultimately in Christ’s, in that they are moved to compassion for all suffering people, regardless of faith, and seek to grow in compassion and hone their skills. Clinical chaplains may come out of the church with its shared Christianity, but their ministry extends to the whole world because of their shared humanity. Their connection with the sufferer is not fellowship in redemption, but fellowship in creation.
About the Author
Ken Klein is a retired Pastor of 20 years in the Southern California area. Ken is a MABC student at CBTS and enrolled in the ACPE program at Loma Linda University Health in Loma Linda, CA. He and his wife, Marjorie, have been blessed with six children and five grandchildren.
[1] Martha R. Jacobs, “Creating a Personal Theology to Do Spiritual / Pastoral Care,” in Professional Spiritual & Pastoral Care: A Practical Clergy and Chaplain’s Handbook, ed. Stephen B. Roberts (Woodstock, VT: Skylight Paths Publishing, 2012), 10–11.
[2] Pope Clement I et al., The Apostolic Fathers, ed. Kirsopp Lake, vol. 1, The Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge MA; London: Harvard University Press, 1912–1913), 103.
This blog post is authored by a student of Covenant Baptist Theological Seminary.
