Confessions of a Newbie Spiritual Leader

by Jason Kinchen

One of the most astonishing invitations I have ever received is to accompany Epiphany’s Haiti team as, what they insist on calling me, their “Spiritual Leader.”  The idea that I could be anybody’s spiritual leader fills me with mirth – and now, fear and trembling.  People who know me do know that I’m kind of a Bible “wonk.”  I love that crazy book – it’s just so amazing and interesting.  It’s full of poetry, mythology, action-packed stories with vivid descriptions of our insane ancestors doing passionate things to understand and relate to an unfathomable yet utterly present God.  All the makings of an eternal bestseller.

But that is a far cry from being any kind of spiritual leader.  I try and gently guide people on my team to the term “lay chaplain” – somehow that feels less imposing to my fragile courage.  Up until this morning, I was only called upon to say grace before meals and bless our travel.  That, I can do – we’ve been saying grace over meals since I was kid, so all I had to do was remember the rote blessings from my childhood and embellish them a bit.

But this morning, they threw me into the deep end.  While my compatriots were triaging, testing, diagnosing, treating, and filling prescriptions, they put me in a lonely corner with a translator that I had just met.  As the inevitable long lines formed at the medical stations, the translator went to the people seated and asked if anyone would like healing prayers.

Somehow, I had imagined a few people at a time coming over.  Maybe some getting a gander at my collar-less, unordained presence and changing their minds.  Maybe nobody would be interested and I could help count pills.  No such luck – you would have thought I was Taylor Swift at the Grammys.  Everybody who could fit on the benches near me got up and came over.

Holy you-know-what!!  About twenty-five people were headed to my little cubbie.  I gave a panicky glance at my translator who looked non-plussed.  I frantically looked around for one of my medical team.  Surely they couldn’t expect me to do this on my own.  I’ve never even prayed over one person for healing before.

But before I knew it, a young woman was sitting in front of me and describing the headaches and heart palpitations she had.  I had no time to indulge my terror but found myself just listening to her story.  Sadly enough, her symptoms began right after the earthquake.  Soon thereafter, she stopped speaking and bowed her head.

In my naïve approach to this role, I did do one wise thing.  I reread the Psalms all the way through on the plane ride down to Haiti.  Being a Bible geek did pay off, because before I knew it snippets of several Psalms made their way to my lips.  My translator dutifully relayed them in Creole – and somehow they sounded more comforting coming from him.

But I had no time to think about that.  Woman after woman (for they were *all* women – not a single man sat down to pray with me, but that’s for another blog entry) sat in front of me, not giving me time to worry, but pouring out tales of loss, of hunger, of sickness, of fear, of all kinds of distress and suffering.

But astonishingly they all smiled and thanked me as they got up to leave.  Some with tears in their eyes, but all seeming to be glad they came.  How was this happening?  I have no business giving this kind of comfort to anyone.

About halfway through, when things slowed down a bit, Richardson, my translator, asked me, “Where did you learn to pray like that?  These are really good.”  I started to tell him that I stole from a really good source, but I was suddenly brought up short.

“Dummy, it is not about you.  It’s about them”, were the words that sounded in my head.  (I either attribute them to the Holy Spirit or a psychotic break –but, you understand, I prefer the former.) They – those women with their stories – they were *telling* me what to say. I only had to look in their eyes and hold their hands and their divine courage and strength would give me the words.

I’m still surprised I’m here.  I still think that somebody has made a terrible mistake.  But so far, nobody has called me a fraud and the Holy Spirit seems to be providing good cover – so I’ve got that going for me.  And I can only think that being held in prayer by so many people at home has something to do with it as well.

Thank you, my friends, and keep those prayers coming – for all the team and for those whom we serve here in Haiti.  Goodness knows what will happen to me if you don’t!

- Jason Kinchen