In the last week of the final unit of my three-unit CPE residency a few weeks ago, I presented a final self-evaluation to my peers and supervisor, reflecting on my progress on my personal learning goals and the Standard 312 Outcomes for CPE Level II as outlined by the Association for Clinical Pastoral Education (ACPE). I refer to it as “not-so-final” in the title of this post because, although my work in CPE has come to an end, the learning process most certainly has not. I am always and forever a work in progress. (Thanks be to God.)

As a case-in-point: in every unit of CPE I’ve done (four in total), my self-directed learning contract contained at least one goal centered on the work of claiming my Pastoral Authority (see these posts from the first and second units of my residency). Like many who have grown up in conservative religious communities, I have tended to associate “authority” with something unchallengeable, hierarchical, and probably masculine. Authority rules. Authority has the final word. Authority—at least in this form—justifies the abuse and marginalization of “non-authorities.” This is not the kind of authority I want to be subject to, or the kind of authority I want to wield.

But when we talk about authority in CPE—and as I talk about it here—we invoke the value and wisdom inherent in each human being’s unique experience. Authority is something in each of us; we all have something to offer. Sadly, I do not always live as though I believe this; I carry with me the messages I picked up in church, in school, in my own family, that my voice doesn’t belong. Trusting my voice, trusting that I have something to offer, and trusting the capacity of others to receive it, have all been important elements in my journey to claiming my unique pastoral authority.

I offer this excerpt from my final evaluation:

One of the lessons that has stuck with me from this unit of CPE came during a drumming workshop at the Art of Healing event in June. The facilitator encouraged the group, “Music is your birthright; it is already in you. Rhythm is in the universe, it’s in the stars, it’s pulsing in your veins and in your heart.” This message frees and empowers me, not only in the liberty I take at employing music and rhythm in pastoral care, but in my willingness to trust another “birthright”: the unique Image of God imprinted in my spirit and my body, carried in the wisdom of my unique experiences, pleading not to be stifled or ignored. I have learned throughout the year that the more space I can allow to welcome my own needs and feelings, the more space I will be able to offer to others. When I evaluate my own pastoral functioning and pastoral care relationships, I think in terms of how I have used my own authority—the wisdom, supportive presence, and love that I have to offer—to lean into the unknown with others.

At the beginning of the first unit of the residency, I was excited when I learned I had been assigned to cover Adult Psychiatry, and I ended up requesting to remain as the floor chaplain throughout the year. Working in inpatient psychiatry has brought me in close contact with my own fear and discomfort in unique ways. For my final verbatim presentation, I chose to spend time examining and outlining my process for facilitating the weekly spirituality group on that floor, where I have gained increased confidence in drawing on my own authority often using the creative arts as a vehicle for self-expression and exploration. As I reflected in that presentation, my growth as a facilitator of this group in many ways mirrored my process in CPE: my willingness to lean into play, spontaneity, and the holiness of mystery helped foster an environment where hope and healing could take form in fresh and surprising ways.

My current job search is geared toward using some of these skills and insights as a chaplain, and I aspire to work in psychiatry again someday. Both professionally and personally, the most significant learning I am taking from this residency program is the confidence that pastoral authority is not just something I assume when I put on a Pastoral Care badge but something I carry with me, and that authority can be used positively in the service of others. I take with me the conviction to “trust what I have to offer” and “speak my truth,” leaning into the hope that, when I do, I will be a little closer to what it means to be human. And I will still be loved. And that will be enough.