I am applying to Vanderbilt’s Graduate Department of Religion, and today finalized my application. W00T! (Which, is now officially a word.) Here is my Statement of Purpose, a.k.a. why the heck I would want to subject myself to more education and debt:
In order to understand why I am applying to Vanderbilt’s Graduate Religion Department’s program in Religion, Psychology, and Culture, I must first paint for you the two important intersections of my life these last eighteen months. The first road began when I started dating an atheist. Yes, once upon a time an atheist and a minister met and fell for each other. Despite the curious rumblings of friends and family, he proved to be the one person (thus far) most similar to me when it came to the questioning the role of religion in society, the individuality of the faith story/existential quandary, and the core essence of spirituality, namely curiosity. We asked similar questions, and while we fell to either side of a dividing line due to differing conclusions, we could easily reach the other one over that line.
Our conversations awoke a deep need and desire in me to discuss the fragile and hurting world through the lenses of Pastoral Care, with its tenets of “being” and “healing,” and logic. I had already read Rabbi Lerner’s The Left Hand of God, but he pushed me to read Neo-Atheists such as Harris, Hitchens, and Dawkins, as well as the economist Naomi Klein and philosopher Jamie Whyte, among others. We began a blog reflecting the core issues we felt must be addressed for the future of humanity. He wanted his voice to be one of reason and science in the face of religiosity and mythology. I wanted mine to be the voice of a servant to the hearts and minds of hurting people with a strong commitment to logic. After we parted ways, I struggled to find ways to continue this conversation. I began my own blog and reworked the one we started. I kept reading. I volunteered and started a chapter of “Drinking Liberally” in order to meet other people to talk with about these things, but these actions are not enough. So, on one hand, I am applying because of a post break-up intellectual void. I need the conversation, discipline, exposure and mentoring only a graduate program can offer me at this point intellectually.
The other trajectory of my life unfolded for me by working as a hospice chaplain. I currently serve as a Home Team Chaplain in a middle to upper-middle class area. My typical patient is over sixty years of age, most likely Jewish or Roman Catholic, married, and retired. Repeatedly I heard the same story of faith narrated to me, and I began to call my patients and their families “The New Agnostics.” [1] I described them as such because regardless of what faith tradition they report historical and familial roots to, their descriptions matched one another. I see three distinct characteristics in this group: 1) A move away from the precepts of their historical religion, while still keeping some limited rituals from the tradition; 2) The centrality of a benign and altruistic God, who is best exemplified by the love of their family and/or friends; and 3) An co-opting of language, ritual, belief, and values specific to traditions other than their own seen as being coherent with their own spirituality. On the whole, they eschew attendance to services, with only some Catholics wanting a ritual visit from a priest—one they almost always have no connection with whatsoever. For example, I provided care to a woman who left Reformed Judaism for Kabbalah, only to not be connected at all but who reported that the two most important factors of her faith were “The Golden Rule and Karma.” Often to my surprise, they have read, seen or otherwise been influenced by the writings of the current Neo-Atheist movement. [2] They disagree, and still believe in “a higher power,” but they keep reading them and report to me the “good points” raised. Paradoxically, when they move away even from this kind of agnosticism and completely abandon their faith, or spirituality it is almost without fail due to the love of family or friends no longer being available to them. The larger systems of community or congregation based social interaction no longer provide “back-up” to their individualized spiritual belief.
By comparison, when I worked in Chicago as the Pastoral Care Resident for the Trauma Department, I saw young men of colour replace their family of origin with their family of choice—namely their gang affiliation. The search for meaning so great, that even in the face of the failure of society as a whole to address the needs of persons of colour—whether that be by the modalities of education, employment, access to services such as healthcare or training—another type of connection was found without regard for its inherent destructive nature. I saw a whole generation eschewing the spirituality of their mothers and grandmothers and a kind of unidentified atheism within them. This was in sharp contrast to the agrarian based spirituality I encountered in North Carolina regardless of economic or educational background. In other words, the types of spiritual crises I minister to has been largely dependent on geographies, economics and education. And within these larger structures of society, fractured, discarded, or amalgamated religious belief emerges.
I firmly believe humanity is at a crossroads where the potential for radical change—if not total abandonment—of our religious systems is imminent. The rise of fundamentalism across the globe speaks to a deep spiritual hunger, as well as an economic and educational famine the whole of humanity must contend with, but especially those of us in the One-Third World. I fully own that my own practice has thus far been limited to those living within the luxuries of the One-Third World, even as they are sometimes impoverished within it. What I see as opportunistic from a Pastoral Care standpoint is the types of interventions we offer as providers are more needed now—on both the individualistic and societal levels—than ever before. While at the same time, I also see a need to rethink these interventions outside of the systematic hermeneutics most seminaries ascribe. I want to be a part of this re-tooling and creation, and I want to be able to both research emerging spiritualities and teach how to provide essential spiritual care that creates an opportunity for genuine healing even in places where traditional religiosity has been abandoned. Let me be clear: I believe religion on the whole has failed, and I want to be a part of the phoenix of faith rising from her ashes.
The esoteric and existential questions posed to me now by my patients and their caregivers require me to “sit Shiva” with the failures of the religions of my patients. As a result, I provide care to people whose spiritual needs are much more difficult to map than ever before. I know my Spiritual Assessment skills are excellent. I even surprised one of my supervisors in Chicago—the inimitable George Fitchett—with the depth of information I garnered from my patients during my Residency! I can see all of the intersections, but my studies have not always prepared me for these emerging spiritualities, and what to do when they are in-fact in crisis. What interventions can be offered when the replacement spirituality no longer works? The emphasis on “being” with those we care for is important, but spiritual care providers are asked profound questions related to meaning. Although I do not believe we ought to answer these outright for those we serve, I do think our active listening, teaching, preaching and other interactions must reflect an understanding of what is at stake for those we care for.
My theological education provided some helps, especially Mary McClintock Fulkerson’s approach to Theology from a perspective of practice and story. Also, I took two spirituality classes with Father Phillip Leach, which I still find invaluable in my own practice but more from the standpoint of self-care than application. Admittedly, I did not study Pastoral Care while in seminary. Finding myself to be a “duck to water” (per Nape Baker, my first Supervisor) during my CPE Internship was a surprise, and my own interests centered more on Medical Ethics at the time than the philosophy of Pastoral Care or Psychology. In fact, as I researched PhD programs while in my CPE Residency at Rush, I looked for programs where by I would be exposed to the theories behind the practices.[3] I am an avid reader, so I have sought out books on my own and read psychological theories on-line, but I see the places where I lack the theory behind the practice. In large part, I believe this program will fill in those gaps and accelerate my own thinking and practice.
I also see the ways these emerging expressions of spiritual thought influence me. For example, so greatly has my own understanding of the need to speak of God without imperatives become that I no longer speak of my own beliefs as being normative, but instead temper with “God is for me…” in all of my interactions and writing. I see the issue of faith and its efficacy impacting my colleagues…oftentimes, ministers—even those from the more progressive traditions—in theological crisis. We are wholly affected by the ponderings of those we care for, but we are not wholly supported in trying to flesh out the implications of these questions on our own spirituality and pastoral care practice. I see ways of negotiating these waters, but often lack the time, training, or resources to work on these dilemmas to benefit my colleagues and myself. One recent success stemmed from teaching my fellow chaplains about how to incorporate Healing Touch modalities into their practices, and it was also taking a course in Healing Touch that led me to seek a PhD program now. I came away from the seminar knowing I needed an opportunity to take my practice to a new level and to be able to offer a wider array of interventions for those I care for. Lastly, I do not think we speak often enough of the manipulative nature of the “helping professions,” which is why I think these issues are not just paramount to those we tend to but also to ourselves. How do we arrive at our own theological clarity (not to be confused with certainty)? For without this we are more susceptible to compassion fatigue, manipulation and the eroding of our own healthy boundaries.
When I am asked why I am applying to Vanderbilt’s PhD program I answer this way: I want to study emerging spiritualities, specifically Neo-Agnostics and Neo-Atheism and the Pastoral Care emergency they generate not only in the types and efficacy of interventions offered, but also the spiritual crisis that can result for the provider when the failures of systematic doctrines are exposed through logic and science. Quite honestly, most people shake their heads and roll their eyes a bit. However, there are the few—especially some of my pastoral care colleagues—who pump their fists up and down and say, “Yes! Yes! We need that!” One such colleague, Paul Veliyathil, who is from India, an avid student of Eastern philosophy and spirituality, and of the Disciples of Christ tradition commented to me when I first began my application process, “You are on the cusp of it all. This is what it is all about, but no one teaches these things or talks so much about them. As long as the conversation continues to only mention emerging spiritualities or give passing reference to the Ancient Eastern Philosophical mindset, we will not be able to provide the type of care needed desperately for our patients and for the world as a whole.” I will admit that his words have been a comfort to me these last three months because it is one thing to be fully convinced that you are on the right track for yourself—it is another to inspire others to support you in that pursuit.
Another person who added an unexpected blessing to my thinking and process is Naomi Klein. She recently spoke at my congregation about her book The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism. I found myself fascinated by her use of narrative language in framing the societal hunger for meaning following a disaster. One of Duke’s many gifts to me has been the theological emphasis of the Divinity School on Narrative Theology. I asked her how she would suppose to offer wide-scale healing when in my own work as a chaplain dealing with individuals in crisis demonstrates just how difficult intentionality towards healing often is. She commented that my question was “brilliant” but that she is more focused on identifying the issues and not on offering the solutions.
I, for one, want to be a part of creatively thinking about healing paradigms and how they might be offered to individuals and communities. As my Spiritual Director in North Carolina once commented to me: “You are called by God once and for all and called by name, but what God will call you to, Jacqueline, will change over time.” I know that I want to first have the opportunity to learn and add more theory to my practice, but I also want to be a part of a wider conversation about how we prepare seminarians for ministry in this ever-evolving world where access to information has created unparalleled spiritual diversity. I hope that at some juncture I will be able to serve in a hospital again, where I would like to do research and work on the application of emergent spiritual models in crisis situations. I also know that my future is unwritten and yet to be explored. I recognize some hurdles in-front of me, including mastery of French, which was not needed on the side of the tracks I grew up on! But I also see an amazing opportunity for me if accepted to Vanderbilt, and an opportunity for Vanderbilt to benefit from my experiences, gifts and enthusiasm.
Respectfully submitted by Rev. Jacqueline Hope Derby
1. I am now familiar with Winifred Gallagher’s book by the same name, but I was not when these thoughts began for me.
2. I realize calling it a “movement” might be seen as a leap, but I really do see an emerging “evangelical” atheist movement. The blog de-conversion.com with its accompanying forum is a good example of the by-products of this movement.
3. I seriously investigated two other similar programs, but in talking to colleagues who attended these institutions and those who attended Vanderbilt, I came away feeling that your program and faculty would be the best fit for me.
