please pray for my discernment regarding the Navy. I have so many thoughts and feelings. I don’t want to rush it but I am interested and part of me wants to prove it to myself and be that kind of man, it’s just so attractive as a way of life. and the financial aspect is simply something I can’t ignore. it would only ever be temporary anyways. just for a little bit to pay off my debt and form some good discipline and health. But I also don’t want to build the house without the Lord laying the foundation. I don’t want to rush in and do something that other people want more than I do (eg my parents want me to make it a life career). God is always speaking in my heart to slow down, slow down. but my finances can’t.. can they?
Lord Jesus, show me the way. Show me Your way. Help my unbelief.
Examining ADFs Virtues through a Study of Virtue Ethics
In my clinical pastoral education program for chaplaincy we were asked to examine an ethical framework that resonates with our faith tradition and personal inclinations. I found myself reading through various ethical frameworks, from Consequentialism (ex: Jeremy Bentham) to Deontology (ex: Immanuel Kant) to various Pluralistic Theories (ex: WD Ross, John Kekes). After a thoughtful conversation…
Hello darlings, it would mean a lot to me if you would read this essay. it is my whole heart and soul, just... opened up for you to see. If you like what I do, then I'd love for you to read about WHY I do what I do.
"I’ve been able to speak publicly about these things only as an adult who has lost the fear of not being believed."
On “Paranormal Chaplaincy,” by Leanna Renee Hieber - The Deadlands
While you're there, please purchase a copy of this digital magazine, The Deadlands creates such an incredible conversation around death and mourning, via poetry, fiction, non-fiction and art. It's worth joining their Patreon at any level, anything helps keep great magazines like this alive.
“Quaker spirituality affirms that the spirit of the living God is at work not only in our hearts, but in the world, transforming, redeeming, and restoring right order in our social relationships. It testifies that there is a power at work ‘in this dark night,’ liberating, healing, birthing new life in our midst. The ‘ocean of light and love’ moves over the ‘ocean of darkness.’”
Maureen Graham, “Quaker Ministry and Pastoral Care: Centered Presence, Relational Engagement, Prophetic Witness,” in “Out of the Silence: Quaker Perspectives on Pastoral Care and Counseling”
“I had one interaction with a patient who had trouble talking and had to communicate by writing on notebook paper. And as she struggled to write, she told me that she was preparing to be her husband's co-caretaker now that they were both in a place of poor health. As a chaplain, to receive that note and see the love that was poured into it was beautiful. That is what ‘holy’ is. I still carry that specific note with me, almost as one would a prayer card.”
Steven Fisher is a third-year master of divinity degree candidate at HDS and serves as a chaplain at Boston Children's Hospital.
Forming Identity, Finding Belonging
I grew up outside of Chicago, in a suburb called Vernon Hills. I was born there in 1993, my family having immigrated from Mexico City in 1991. So, I grew up in a household in which Spanish was primarily spoken, and then as soon as I started school, I started speaking Spanglish. Even though I spent most of my time in Illinois, we traveled to Mexico City often to be with my family there. Both the Chicago area and Mexico City are very much home for me.
I had a rich childhood, filled with time spent outdoors in the prairies, the forest preserves in Northern Illinois, and then Mexico City for Christmas. I remember spending many hours in such beautiful places, like grandmother's flower garden, and the nearby open-air market. These vivid places have informed my experience of the world. I recall being in Mexico City seeing houses that were painted pink, and cerulean, and orange, then taking the plane back to Chicago, and as we were landing, I’d look down and see the winter. Suddenly everything was covered in snow. The sky was gray and the houses were painted gray or brown. It felt like I was entering a completely different world.
Over time, I learned to switch between and navigate those worlds. Whenever I was in Chicago, I felt like a part of myself was missing—my Mexican identity. And whenever I was in Mexico, a part of my American identity was also missing, or wasn't being acknowledged fully. But when I got to college, I began to meet people from similar backgrounds with immigrant childhoods.
There, I found belonging with people who knew what it meant to belong to more than a single culture. They knew how to speak Spanglish, they accepted my Spanish with all its grammar mistakes, and they weren’t embarrassed about their own accents in whichever language. Finding these communities was probably the most enriching experience I had, because I felt seen.
Ministry at Harvard Divinity School
Before HDS, I worked for the Red Cross in their disaster services. Doing that work, I came across firefighter chaplains, state trooper chaplains, and hospital chaplains. I loved their ability to connect with survivors of natural disasters, so I investigated that career a little bit more and realized one needed a theological graduate degree.
I had been a theology minor in undergrad and had a professor who encouraged further theological studies. At the time, I was at a Catholic university and this professor wanted me to go to a Catholic graduate school. However, I heard about HDS and decided to apply to their DivEx program instead. When I got to DivEx, it was incredible to see so many people who were rooted in different traditions and unconventional ways of being within their own traditions. They had such a commitment to justice and what that looked like in their respective communities. It was an almost immediate connection with the people there, coupled with lots of laughter.
After that, I decided to apply to HDS, and I came about a year later. I could have gone to any number of theological graduate schools to complete that requirement, but I think I chose HDS because of our sense of wholeness when it comes to spirituality. The sense that we can take a class at the Medical school or the Education School and turn that into ministry. I love that HDS honors that, and that's a big part of why I came here.
Queerness, Catholicism, and Eco-Spirituality
I grew up Catholic in a predominantly Mexican American experience of Catholicism, with a deep devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Saints, and all the folklore that surround that. I still carry that with me as someone who is part of the Catholic tradition.
At the same time, I'm also queer. And going back to the conversation about belonging, my queerness has challenged my place in the Catholic Church and forced me to claim spaces within it at the same time. What that looks like today is constantly navigating what it means for me to be true to myself, and what it means for me to be Catholic.
Pointing toward Saints like Saint Francis of Assisi, Saint Joan of Arc, and Saint Therese of Lisieux has been a big part of my spirituality. They had a really deep and expansive sense of what loving is, in ways that extend even beyond the human, and into other ecosystems and other beings in the world. That is something that I want to hold true to. It shows up a lot in my spirituality and the ways it’s grounded in the environment, which I like to think of as a manifestation of God's creation.
As individuals, some of us have a strong relationship with different ecosystems and what our place is in those ecosystems. But as a collective, we haven't really articulated a common vision. I think this is why we have so much trouble articulating our positions on climate change and policy. This is not to say we need to create a moral vision around the environment, but rather to say that we have an opportunity to unearth truths within our own traditions, and to learn with humility from the traditions of people who have been a part of this land before us, particularly indigenous peoples.
The Holiness of Love
Currently I'm at Boston Children's Hospital, where I'm working primarily as a Spanish-speaking chaplain. However, a lot of my past training here at the Divinity School has been in English. Therefore, phrases like “holding space”, or “ministry”, or even the word “chaplain” don't necessarily translate to Spanish very well. It's awkward, it's clunky, and I struggle. So, now I'm learning to let the patients and families give me their own language for articulating their spiritual care.
I ask very basic questions, and the vocabulary they use around God, or meaning and faith, is what I can more easily use to reflect back. I can't come in with my own vocabulary anymore. And I think this lesson applies to the way we meet people with other traditions. Essentially, we cannot come in with our own language of what it means to articulate a moral position around the environment, for example. We can only learn from other people's languages and reflect back what they have shared.
Being a chaplain has honestly given me a broader conception of what is considered “holy”. This is due to the fact that I have had to learn how to honor holiness in the lives of other people who may have a very different worldview from me, whether it is about politics, religion, race, or gender. I've had to grow the capacity to learn what is holy in their lives, and to take that seriously.
I had one interaction with a patient who had trouble talking and had to communicate by writing on notebook paper. And as she struggled to write, she told me that she was preparing to be her husband's co-caretaker now that they were both in a place of poor health. As a chaplain, to receive that note and see the love that was poured into it was beautiful. That is what “holy” is. I still carry that specific note with me, almost as one would a prayer card.
Additionally, every time I talk to a patient nowadays, I try to light a candle. When I'm done talking to that patient, I blow out the candle. I've since extended that to my classes. It is one simple thing that has allowed me to acknowledge the holiness of the moment, even if it is through a phone call, or a video call, or a class on Zoom. This has been really centering for me.
I am also a beekeeper and now that it’s getting warmer, I'm ready to be with my bees again, and check on their hive more regularly. Bees have the capacity to leave the hive, explore, and then come back to their community. For me, there's a sense of connection that comes with that. During this time where I'm somewhat isolated, I can welcome these bees back from wherever they went and feel like I m a part of this world, especially when I see all the pollen they have returned with from flowers miles around me.
Interview by Suzannah Omonuk; photos courtesy of Steven Fisher
