Christmas message from SWAH chaplain Dean Kenneth Hall

How do I and many other clergy long to return to the role we were ordained to fulfill by being able to offer a caring pastoral and priestly ministry?

These past two years have proved to be a very difficult challenge for hospital chaplaincy [at the South West Acute Hospital].

This was, and still is, end-of-life ministry both for the families concerned and for the hospital chaplains.

In my 23 years since ordination, I have witnessed things that I thought would never happen, such as praying with the dying by video call, and seeing someone lying on their death bed, surrounded by medical staff all gowned up with a mask and visor – how scary that must be for a dying person, and seeing, or maybe only hearing me, not in person, but through some form of technology!

Often, I had to get a member of the medical profession to sign the dying person with the Sign of The Cross as I prayed the final blessing, committing them into God’s eternal care!

We have underestimated – and often taken for granted – the privilege of being able to be present at bedsides, to touch a person, to hold their hand and to comfort them in their hour of need.

Likewise, being able to put one’s arms around a grieving family member is now also denied by this deadly virus that has stripped us of many things that we once took for granted.

Words often fail to express sympathy to grieving family members, and many people do not know what to say. And what do you say to those immediately affected?

What we used to do was just to be there to support those greatest affected, to forget about words, if necessary, and to just offer a shoulder to lean or to cry on.

Very often, words did not matter anyway – just being there was what counted – and even that is now not possible, with social distancing.

Every time I visit a hospital, I see pain and fear on the faces of people due to the possibility of a traumatic report of their medical condition.

Death is probably the most difficult challenge we have to face, and Christmas can be a dark time for many who are going through grief, or the aftermath of trauma, depression, loneliness, or whatever sadness and heartbreak we may be experiencing.

Having light in the form of hope, peace, and joy in our lives can feel like a far-fetched desire.

Christmas lights radiate the reason for this season. The sparkling of lights sparks something deep within us. This season is bright with the light of love.

Christmas gives us hope that no matter how dark the night, the light has shown, and darkness cannot stop it.

Many of us think of the experience of lighting up a dark room by turning on a light switch. The room is instantly turned bright, and darkness is gone in the blink of an eye.

However, overcoming darkness often does not happen in a fraction of a second, but rather in a more subtle, gradual, and slow fashion, such as when the sun sets or rises every day.

Jesus said of himself, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12). The Gospel according to St. John tells us: “The light shines into the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it.”

Christians believe that Jesus is a light to the world, or in other words, He points the way.

As Christian people, we believe that Jesus displayed for us a supreme ethic — love. Jesus made love the light of the world.

Love shines into the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it.

So may you know the peace and the presence and the love of God in your life this Christmas.

The Very Rev Dean Kenneth Hall, (Church of Ireland), The Rev Lorna Dreaning, (Methodist), The Rev David Coupples, (Presbyterian) and Rt Rev Monsignor Peter O'Reilly, (Roman Catholic),