The Ministry of McDonald's

One of the first things many people notice on their initial visits to SLEH/TCH is the interior McDonald's that sits on the border between the two. One of the first things people ask is the same question I asked on my first day: "Isn't it counterproductive to put a McDonald's in one of the nation's top heart hospitals?"

I occasionally take a late-night trip through the drive-thru of my Abilene McDonald's, but for the most part, I believe there is something extremely important about being a good steward of my body—and that includes avoiding foods that are excessively greasy, salty, fatty, or preservative-y. I was a little disappointed to see that America's best-known fast food restaurant had such a presence—and so much business—in a hospital. But then I asked someone about why it was there, and his answer changed my opinion: first, that McDonald's donates a significant amount of its earnings back into the hospital, in addition to the Ronald McDonald House nearby.

Second—and the part that really grabbed my heart—is its importance: many times, there are children in TCH who are terrified of their circumstances, and that combined with whatever illness put them in the hospital often results in a poor appetite. As it turns out, many kids who won't (or can't) eat anything else will eat a Happy Meal. Even if it's not the best dietary choice, food is food.

It goes even farther: for friends and visitors who are experiencing the chaos of having a loved one in the hospital—an experience that may lead to significant life changes—there is something incredibly reassuring about eating something familiar. For better or for worse, every single McDonald's hamburger tastes exactly the same no matter where you are or what is happening in your life.

I'm reminded of Jesus' disciples breaking Sabbath law by picking and eating grain out of their hunger (Matthew 12:1-8). Jesus could have chosen any number of scriptures to defend the importance of keeping a weekly Sabbath, but instead he quotes Hosea 6:6: "I desire mercy, not sacrifice, [and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings]."

How wonderful it is to know a God who cares about people and knows what we need. Most of the time, what we need is a good diet and other healthy lifestyle choices. But there are also times when what we need is to feel, smell, and—most importantly—taste that our lives have not been completely lost to the storms of this world, whatever shape those storms make take.

So, yes, I'm lovin' it.

For the next twelve weeks, I will be working as a hospital chaplaincy intern in St. Luke's Episcopal Hospital and Texas Children's Hospital, which means I will spend my mornings in class and discussions and my afternoons visiting patients to provide pastoral care.

Rather than writing long, trailing essays about emotions and ministry and theology, I thought this blog would be more interesting to read (and I would be much more likely to update regularly) if I offered brief vignettes—snapshots of what it's like to do ministry in a hospital among hurting people. The pressures of patient confidentiality necessitate me writing cautiously and forgoing details, but I'll do my best to set the scenes sufficiently. And you can bet that some theological reflection will find its way into my posts.

If you've found this blog, thanks for reading, and please keep me in your prayers—it probably won't take long for my inexperience to rear its ugly head in a pastoral situation, so I'm just praying that my mistakes will (a) not do permanent damage and (b) teach me something valuable.

Happy summer!