Springs of Salvation & Safety Precautions

With joy you will draw water from the fountains of salvation (Is.12.3).

This is a PSA for anyone who attended the Easter Vigil last night at St. Matthew Cathedral. I was one of the cantors, and I got to sing four of the seven Psalms. 

Maybe you noticed during the second reading that I kept leaning over to my left. Maybe you noticed that I left the sanctuary during the fourth reading and came back during the fifth with a fistful of paper towels. Maybe you noticed that I was a bit distracted as I intoned the fifth and seventh Psalms. 

Here's the deal (or "tea," as they say), not that you care: As I sat down after the first Psalm, my alb knocked over my uncapped water bottle, and a sea of Kroger-brand purified H2O suddenly materialized on the marble floor. 

Damn. I was sitting up in front of a fairly full house. It was pitch black except for the reader's lamp, and the lectern was right in front of me, so all eyes were fixed in our direction. For liturgical decorum's sake, I could've just left the puddle alone, but my nursing conscience kicked in: A pool of water? On a marble floor? And people of varying ages and mobility possibly moving through the area? No way.

So I did the best I could under the circumstances. Sorry if my fussing about was a distraction to you. Sorry to Anna, the sacristan, who had to clean up the mess I left behind. Sorry, too, to Jon, my co-cantor, who was no doubt bewildered by my strange behavior during the solemn liturgy. And I'm sorry if the damp floor resulted, God forbid, in anyone taking a spill (pun intended). I was glad that there were no messages from law firms on our answering machine this a.m. 

Finally, I could use this moist anecdote to segue into an Eastery discourse on baptism and its attendant risks – that allowing yourself to be splashed with salvation means peril, suffering, and death to self – but that would be a metaphorical stretch, so I'll skip it. You're welcome.

Happy Easter! Alleluia!
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Nursing School, Prayer, and Avoiding Burnout

I'm teaching a new Nursing 101 course at Saint Mary's College. It's designed to help sophomores in their transition from classroom to clinical next year. Recently I solicited anonymous feedback from my students, which resulted in this (edited) online announcement.

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A few of you turned in notes with comments and questions the other day, and I intend to follow up accordingly. However, two of the notes are worth addressing sooner rather than later, for they overlap and concern our theme for next week. 

The first concerns prayer. "I'm trying to be patient and respectful," one of you wrote, "but I don't understand why we are praying at the beginning of every class." That's a fair question, especially if you haven't yet encountered prayer in the classroom at Saint Mary's. 

But, as you know, SMC is a Catholic institution, and so one can expect that the culture on campus, both in and out of the classroom, will reflect Catholic values and practices to one degree or another. Obviously, there are many at SMC (students, faculty, staff) who aren't Catholic (or even Christian, or religious in any way), and it goes without saying that they are all valued members of the community. Be assured that there will never be pressure or incentive for anyone to become Catholic or adopt Catholic perspectives on anything, in my class or any SMC class.

Nonetheless, a majority of SMC students are Catholic, and they've come to SMC, in part, because it's Catholic. They (and their parents) anticipated that an SMC education would include an integrated Catholic vision of various subjects of study among other, often competing visions, and that there would be room and even encouragement to experience growth in the Faith. The faculty who aren't Catholic might provide less of those things, but it's reasonable that your Catholic faculty would provide more. 

That's what Pope St. John Paul II meant when he wrote that while all professors at Catholic colleges are to be inspired "by the principles of an authentically human life," Catholic professors are called to a higher standard: "Christians among the teachers are called to be witnesses and educators of authentic Christian life, which evidences attained integration between faith and life, and between professional competence and Christian wisdom" (Ex Corde Ecclesia, #22).

I know I don't do it perfectly, but that's what I'm striving to do, and prayer is at the heart of it.

Which brings me to the second note: "What are some ways to prevent nurse burnout," somebody asked. "I am worried since this is always a topic of conversation in healthcare." True enough, which is why we'll be talking about "self-care" next week, strategizing for how to build up your emotional and mental reserves as you head into clinicals next year and your nursing career after that. Prayer can play a key role in that regard. In fact, for those who follow a faith tradition, I'd say it's absolutely vital.

Indeed, I know our guest speaker next week will be talking about prayer along with meditation and other self-care practices, but it's also good to keep in mind that many of your patients may actually seek your prayerful support, which can be an important part of spiritual care. "Regardless of the faith tradition or practices of the patient, family, or nurse," suggest the authors of an article in RN Journal, "the moments taken to pray may provide comfort and renewal for all present."

So, by all means, pray along with me when we pray in class if you wish, or else use it as an opportunity to learn about SMC's Catholic heritage and the ways in which Catholics express their faith. For further conversation about this matter (or anything else), please don't hesitate to make an appointment or come by during my office hours. I'd love to hear from you!

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