NINE out of ten people will not be in church on a Sunday. Nine
out of ten people will be at work on a Monday. This is why
chaplaincy is so important in our day and age. The whole world is
potentially a place for encountering God. Chaplains who are doing
their pastoral work beyond our churches and cathedrals have a key
part to play in helping people to discover God's presence in that
world. And yet chaplains are sometimes perceived as being on the
periphery of church life, and not at its centre.
The ministry of Jesus shows that life on the periphery can
actually be the centre of activity. He pointed out that spirit and
truth are not always found in the obvious places of the holy
mountain, or in temple-centred Jerusalem. He made his presence felt
on the periphery - even beyond remotest Galilee - by healing a
Canaanite's daughter in Tyre, and talking to a Samarian woman in
Sychar.
If parish life is often seen as the bread-and-butter of Anglican
ministry, perhaps chaplaincy could be its jam. Chaplains are
embedded in the nation's social structures, getting stuck in to the
nooks and crannies of a multitude of organisations, from football
clubs to art academies, from hospitals to prisons. If you combine
the number of chaplains (about 1500) with lay volunteers in
chaplaincy in the C of E, the total figure of those working in
chaplaincy is around 10,000. While there is obviously a greater
number working in parish ministry in various capacities, chaplaincy
is no mere sideshow.
ONE reason for the peripheral image of chaplaincy is that churches
and cathedrals are the obvious and visible hubs of church life.
They gain much of the attention. You have only to read the "Real
Life" section of this newspaper to see how many of the enterprising
initiatives depicted are parish-based. The work of chaplains, on
the other hand, is more discreet, often one-to-one. It is largely
hidden work.
Chaplains sometimes say that they feel cut off from mainstream
church life. This is compounded by the fact that many chaplains are
paid by the organisations for which they work rather than by the
Church. A chaplain also has less obvious control than a parish
incumbent, who orchestrates things from the centre. Chaplains are
not figureheads of the organisations they serve. In a school, that
is the head teacher; in a prison, it is the governor; in an army
division, it is the commanding officer. But less control does not
equate to less influence: a prisoner in jail, or a soldier in a
company, or a patient on a ward may spend only a few moments with a
chaplain, but such moments can be transformative.
UNIQUELY, at a recent chaplaincy conference, held at Wellington
College, almost all types of chaplains were represented: school
chaplains, college chaplains, hospital chaplains, prison chaplains,
chaplains to the armed forces, and even bishops' chaplains (who are
often seen as private secretaries rather than in any pastoral
capacity).
As we listened to one another's stories, it became clear that
chaplaincy was powerful work. Chaplaincy as a whole seems even
greater than the sum of its sectors. The work of chaplains may be
largely unseen, but they can, nevertheless, exert much influence on
the communities that they serve.
In a typical week, chaplains of all types collectively touch as
many people in their rounds as a parish incumbent might meet on a
busy Sunday. Moreover, chaplains often encounter people at crucial
moments in their lives. This is particularly apparent in the work
of military chaplains, in theatres of war in places such as
Afghanistan; or of hospital chaplains, as they support patients
recovering from illness, or accompany them to death's door.
Hospital wards and military battlegrounds are places where
suffering is most acute. Chaplains often meet people when they are
in a low place. Very often, these encounters prove to be the
beginning of the road back to faith, and even back to church,
making a vital link between chaplaincy and parish life. Encouraging
those links would not only reduce the disconnection between parish
life and chaplaincy: it would also help us as a Church to
appreciate fully what Christian mission is all about.
THE keynote speaker at the Wellington conference was Lord
Williams, who, as a former Archbishop of Canterbury, described
himself as having once been "chaplain to the nation". He pointed
out that Christ was pushed out of the world on to a cross: from the
centre to the edge. Chaplains are at the edge too, in non-routine
situations where there is unpredictability, darkness, and even
danger.
Another speaker, the Revd Ruth Scott, reminded us of the "state
of liminality", where we find ourselves on the threshold of new
experiences. Chaplains experience this much of the time, as
pastoral situations emerge that may be unplanned, chaotic and
dramatic.
It is a far cry from the prescribed act of worship at ten
o'clock on a Sunday morning.
IF CHAPLAINS are indeed on the edge, it is the cutting edge. Jesus
lived on the edge in his ministry in Galilee, and the Gospels bear
witness to these edgy encounters. As another Archbishop of
Canterbury, Robert Runcie, once put it, "the centre of the Church
is at the edges."
The Revd Dr Mark Dimond is the Chaplain to the Archbishop of
Wales.