The Ministry of Presence?

I am getting too old the ride the midnight shift with the police officers that I provide chaplaincy services for in Granbury. I am not a college student who can get by on 2 or 3 hours of sleep anymore. But I had a short break this week, and decided to join my friends on the late shift. We had not been on the streets too long that night when a call of a fight in progress at a local hotel came through. I figured it was a couple of drunks getting into it after returning from a local bar. The number #1 rule in law enforcement, and crisis ministry is: Assume nothing. It turned out to be a man and his estranged wife fighting in the confines of a hotel room. A cute little 10 year old girl found herself literally sandwiched between two belligerent parents. Dad was angry and mom was tweaking on methamphetamine.

The officers immediately separated the volatile adults. I was given the duty of taking the terrified little girl down the lobby, and thus out of earshot of the investigation. The little girl was not assaulted, but she was shaking uncontrollably. I asked her if she wanted a blanket. I assured her that I could secure one easily. She was just scared. My new friend just needed someone to hug her and hold her hand. I held her hand, as we sat in silence… All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind. For a second, my mind went back to the training room at the Wichita Falls Police Dept.

Almost 18 years ago I underwent the initial training to become a volunteer law enforcement chaplain. The training was intended to prepare us to minister to people in the immediate moments following every kind of imaginable crisis. I was clueless at the time as to what that really meant, and that of course was a good thing. During the training the phrase: the ministry of presence was introduced. Ministry of presence… What does that mean? This was a new phrase. Ministers after all are trained first and foremost to proclaim and teach. The ministry of presence, according to veteran crisis responders, means sitting quietly with people. It means acting like Job’s friends, as they sat with him in silence. It is not an entirely passive activity. It entails holding a person’s hand, or providing a reassuring hug. It is not an act of service that can be rushed. It may even require a significant investment of time. It requires active listening and few words.

I listened to the presenters carefully. I knew from personal experience that poorly chosen words directed to a person in acute grief are extremely damaging. But I was still skeptical… I am a fixer. How can this ministry of presence, as they call it, do anything to help a person who is in shock over the loss of a loved one? Wouldn’t it be better to do something on their behalf? Even though I was skeptical, I followed the counsel that was provided during that training event in 1990, and did my best to be the ministry of presence for the people I was called to serve. I was still not satisfied. After each crisis event, I walked away feeling that I had not done enough.

I suppose you can call me a slow learner, because it has taken me 18 years to realize that the ministry of presence is powerful, and amazingly healing. I am no longer skeptical.