<Table Of Contents

The Mundane Matters

by Patrick M. Tugwell, 2024 Clergy & Religious Leaders Fellow

I

“Beautiful lake, is it not?” Heydrich gestures toward the water. “When the war ends, I shall come to live in this house and rise to see that lake every day and dream of comforting things. I am a dreamer, as I think you are.”

Lange nods. “It is a dream world.”

“Ah, Major Lange, how can I help you?” Heydrich continues, his tone shifting. “Politics is a nasty game. I think soldiering requires the discipline to do the unthinkable, and politics requires the skill to get someone else to do the unthinkable for you. But we need the politics, so we put up with them—for now. We look forward to a better day. A peaceful world…that is what we work for.”

Lange straightens up. “I appreciate the words, sir.”

Heydrich, offering a faint smile: “We are servant soldiers, are we not?”

“Yes,” Lange replies. “That is what we are.”

To prepare for our fellowship to Germany and Poland, our cohort was assigned to watch the television movie Conspiracy (2001).1 The film reimagines the Wannsee Conference, the infamous 1942 meeting in which Nazi officials meticulously planned the logistics of the “Final Solution.”2 A few days prior to our trip, a friend and FASPE alumnus recommended I also watch the most recent adaptation of the meeting, Die Wannseekonferenz (2022).3 Viewing both films, I was struck by the sheer mundanity of the proceedings. It had the appearance of a routine administrative meeting, complete with polite conversation, cold euphemisms, and even moments of casual laughter.

It was the contrast that unsettled me most—the subdued banality of the setting and the horrors it had borne. I witnessed a kind of evil that whispers rather than shouts, subtle and pervasive, far from the theatricality of Hollywood villains. What took place was no dramatic showdown. Nothing about this meeting suggested the scope of the atrocities it would enable.

Entering the House of the Wannsee Conference on our third day in Germany, my disquiet only intensified. The villa, elegant and unassuming, nestled among tiny sailboats and manicured hedges, belied the unspeakable horrors that had been orchestrated within its walls. Walking its halls, I tried to imagine the weight of the decisions made there, the alarming indifference to human suffering.

II

On our final evening in Berlin, I delivered a paper on the evolving role of hospital chaplains at the American Academy of Religion’s online summer conference. Historically, chaplains were primarily consulted for cases in which religious needs were explicit, reflecting the chaplain’s recognized ministerial role within hospitals. Today, their scope has expanded to address spiritual, existential, and emotional distress.4 The result of recent advancements, modern chaplaincy education equips practitioners to provide care that engages with beliefs and practices beyond that which has been traditionally considered religious.5 While this therapeutic shift in chaplaincy provides for diverse needs, it has also fragmented public perceptions of the profession and practitioner identity.6

Departments of spiritual care are not revenue generating for hospitals, making them some of the first to face budget cuts during financial downturns.7 In such precarious times, hospital chaplains are often urged to find ways to demonstrate their value.8 This results in practitioners becoming increasingly embedded within the hospital’s administrative system, which carries a notable danger. Take, for instance, the harrowing words of a colleague:

I was indirectly asked to assist in persuading a family to agree to a change in a patient’s code status to “do not resuscitate,” despite the family’s firm religious objections to such a decision. I was torn. Torn between honoring the patient’s spiritual needs and accommodating the hospital’s pressure for a resolution. I recognized that the family’s resistance was rooted in more than just a misunderstanding; it was a fundamental expression of their faith. Nevertheless, after consultations with the care team who were eager to expedite the discharge process, I felt cornered. In an attempt to maintain relationships with my fellow staff, I used my established rapport with the family to sway them to modify the patient’s code status. Since that day, I grapple with the uneasy sense that I compromised my integrity. I mean, who am I to leverage the name of God for such ends?9

Hospital chaplains often find themselves in the middle of competing obligations. Should they advocate for the desires of patients and families, risking strained collegial relationships? Or should they align with their colleagues, prioritize institutional goals, or perhaps avoid taking a stand altogether? One thing is clear: when systems (like hospitals) begin, or even express interest in, co-opting professionals meant to serve as beacons of ethical questioning (like chaplains) into the framework of administrative and capitalistic priorities, the risk is significant. In this time of immense change, it is essential for chaplains to stand by their role, to safeguard their indispensable voice against the weight of latent and unreasonable institutional demands. History has shown that indifference and silence in critical moments do not merely echo injustice—they perpetuate it.

The Wannsee Conference compels me to confront the privilege that allows me to believe I wouldn’t have been complicit if I were sitting at the round table, tasked to represent my profession; that I wouldn’t have gone along with the movement for the sake of myself, my work, or my family. But as I reflect on the future of chaplaincy, I realize how easily one can hide behind administrative language and systems, how unjust decisions can appear ordinary, and how vital it is to never be fooled into believing that financial, legal, or other systemic pressures can justify suppressing ethical questioning.

III

In our closing session at Wannsee, all three cohorts collaboratively engaged with a hospital case involving multidisciplinary medical and non-medical staff and outside media presence. The study illustrated the pervasiveness of tension surrounding patient autonomy in medical decisions at the end of life, juxtaposed with the competing obligations of each professional to both institution and coworker. The brilliant and diverse perspectives from my FASPE colleagues in medicine, clergy, and journalism made this session one of my favorites.

As the discussion concluded, I found myself reflecting on how other professions perceive the role of chaplains and clergy more broadly. I was reminded of instances in which I encounter the assumption that religious leaders are expected to respond solely with prayer in all circumstances, as if prayer alone is the full extent of our contribution to the fight against injustice.

We might, in turn, ask how this perception has been constructed. We have all seen comment sections on just about any social media platform flooded with the brief phrase, “(my) thoughts and prayers (are with you)” in response to violence or unrest. These well-meaning wishes are often followed by conclusive statements like “God bless (insert name/place)” or “all we can do is pray.”

Should religious and spiritual leaders take this last statement at face value? Or is it worth asking ourselves: is prayer all we can do?

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel’s words provide a powerful response:

Prayer is meaningless unless it is subversive, unless it seeks to overthrow and to ruin the pyramids of callousness, hatred, opportunism, falsehood. The liturgical movement must become a revolutionary movement, seeking to overthrow the forces that continue to destroy the promise, the hope, and the vision.10

Prayer should not be considered a substitute for action. Overreliance on prayer alone risks absolving us of the personal responsibility we bear for the systems we’ve created and their consequences. Heschel’s teaching reminds us that our spiritual practices should draw us closer to our world, not distance us from it. Faith, then, must become the catalyst for confronting systems that undermine justice for our neighbors. This dynamic and transformative vision of faith propels us toward a more just world. It is therefore not in spite of, but because of, our sacred teachings that our horizon leans forward, drawn by the hope of a better tomorrow.

Compassion and empathy depicted in a sketch by Rembrandt entitled The Return of the Prodigal Son based on Luke 14:20-32 (Leiden, Netherlands, 1836), public domain.

IV

What do you do when there are no words to say?

While visiting Auschwitz-Birkenau, I was hit with the gravity of the location, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt. I thought, “I don’t deserve to feel bad; look at me? I’m safely walking these grounds with no fear of persecution or death.”

After our group tour through Auschwitz-Birkenau, we were given the option to return to each of the sites on our own. Despite my tiredness, I chose to return to Auschwitz I.

Walking the grounds, I found myself at the wall where innocent prisoners were commonly executed. At its base stood a lantern with a single ember, a striking contrast to the wall’s considerable presence. It had one singular bunch of flowers laying at its side, and a flame that was blowing in the breeze.

To the side of the wall was a cement cover to the basement windows of the neighboring building. I sat there for what seemed like an eternity, staring at the flame. Many crowds walked by, stayed for a minute, and walked on.

As I was lost in contemplation, a young girl approached me and asked in a faint British accent, “What is it?” After my initial startle, I shared a little about the camp’s history, much of which I had learned the day prior. She paused, then asked, “When did the killing end?”

My instinct was to say ‘45, but I hesitated.

Patrick M. Tugwell was a 2024 FASPE Clergy & Religious Leaders Fellow. He is a doctoral student in Religious Studies at University of California, Santa Barbara and works as a hospice and palliative care chaplain in Santa Barbara County. He is a licensed pastor in the United Methodist Church.

Notes

  1. Conspiracy, directed by Frank Pierson (May 19, 2001: HBO Films, California). My introductory dialogue between Nazi officials Reinhard Heydrich and Rudolf Lange is drawn directly from the film.
  2. The plan to murder all Jews. See Doris L. Bergen, War and Genocide: A Concise History of the Holocaust, 3rd edition (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2016), 209-212. Kindle edition.
  3. Die Wannseekonferenz, directed by Matti Geschonneck (January 18, 2022: ZDF, Berlin). The ZDF television premiere coincided with the 80th anniversary, nearly to the day, of when the meeting occurred.
  4. These distresses are sometimes rooted in one’s faith tradition, while at other times they pertain to personal values or the larger question of the meaning of human suffering. In the preface to her book A Ministry of Presence: Chaplaincy, Spiritual Care, and the Law (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2014), lawyer and religious historian Winnifred F. Sullivan likens modern chaplains to “secular priests” and “ministers without portfolios,” lifting the veil on previous orthodox understandings of chaplaincy. Sullivan’s reimagining of the chaplain’s role highlights convincingly that the recent reprioritization of equitable access to spiritual care more appropriately addresses the diverse spiritual and existential needs and concerns prevalent in public life. Recent data suggest that the chaplain’s role may also move beyond the confines of their employment. See, for example, Kelsey B. White, et al., “Chaplains’ Reports of Integration in Community Health Initiatives: A Qualitative Study,” Journal of Health Care Chaplaincy (September 2024): 1-20. doi:10.1080/08854726.2024.2401742. Furthermore, chaplain studies are reclaiming the affective dimension of spiritual suffering, a burgeoning paradigm shift to address the somatic ways that individuals process the spiritual and religious imprints of trauma. See Mary C. Moschella, “Affect in Narrative Spiritual Care,” Pastoral Psychology 73 (2024): 151-162. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11089-023-01110-x.
  5. Chaplains often engage in religious practices with care recipients, such as offering end-of-life prayers, administering sacraments, and organizing funeral services in alignment with specific traditions. It is worth noting, however, that the broader question of what constitutes “religion” or “religious” remains a central inquiry for scholars of the subject. In Genealogies of Religion: Discipline and Reasons of Power in Christianity and Islam (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993), Talal Asad argues that definitions of religion are neither universal nor neutral but are historically shaped by culture and power. He suggests that the meanings of “religion” and “religious symbols” are deeply embedded in the social and cultural practices in which they are utilized. This assessment invites reflection on the limitations of the “World Religions” model, which categorizes religion through a framework influenced by colonial and post-Enlightenment contexts. Anna Sun, in Confucianism as a World Religion: Contested Histories and Contemporary Realities (Princeton University Press, 2013), builds on this perspective, arguing that Confucianism’s classification as a “religion” reflects the imposition of Euro-American frameworks that fail to account for the fluid boundaries and lived practices of traditions outside the West. Such critiques have implications for ministerial and chaplaincy education, which historically operated within these paradigms. At its best, modern chaplaincy training endeavors to destabilize and move beyond these constraints by first asking, “Whose narrative is being prioritized?” This approach equips practitioners today with the awareness and tools to provide equitable, personalized care that respects the individuality of beliefs and practices, including those outside the boundaries of what has been traditionally identified as “religious.” See also Tomoko Masuzawa, The Invention of World Religions, or, How European Universalism Was Preserved in the Language of Pluralism (University of Chicago Press, 2005).
  6. Amy Lawton and Wendy Cadge, “The Persistence of Religion as a Master Status for Chaplains,” Review of Religious Research 65, no.4 (2023): 493-507. https://doi.org/10.1177/0034673X231215280. Despite the destabilization of Western religious frameworks in chaplain education, much of what remains continues to reflect Euro-American Christian traditions, particularly evident in the reasons chaplains are consulted. See also Christopher R. Cotter, “Introduction: The ‘World Religions’ Paradigm in Contemporary Religious Studies” in After World Religions: Reconstructing Religious Studies, eds. Christopher R. Cotter & David G. Robertson (London: Routledge, 2016): 1-26, and Kellie C. Cornforth, “The Transformation and Transformational Potential of Religion: Modernity, Secularism, and Humanist Chaplaincy” (Master’s thesis, University of Calgary, Calgary, Canada, 2023).
  7. Since 2022, many healthcare systems worldwide have struggled financially. Persistent workforce shortages, significant disruptions in the drug and other supply chains, as well as high inflation have driven up hospital costs as they continue providing around-the-clock patient care. Meanwhile, these rising costs have been exacerbated by insufficient reimbursement increases from government payers and the growing administrative burdens imposed by commercial health insurers’ inappropriate practices. Broadly speaking, chaplains are a non-reimbursement field and, as such, are often budgeted for last. In fact, much of the recent rise in evidenced-based research about the role of chaplaincy in healthcare has been to promote its value in response to this reality. See, for example, Renske Kruizinga, et al., “Enhancing the Integration of Chaplains within the Healthcare Team: A Qualitative Analysis of a Survey Study Among Healthcare Chaplains,” Integrated Healthcare Journal 4, no. 1 (2023): 1-6. https://doi.org/10.1136/ihj-2022-000138. See also American Hospital Association, “2024 Costs of Caring Report,” online, May 2024. https://www.aha.org/system/files/media/file/2024/05/Americas-Hospitals-and-Health-Systems-Continue-to-Face-Escalating-Operational-Costs-and-Economic-Pressures.pdf.
  8. Our Clergy & Religious Leaders cohort read the introduction to Doris L. Bergen’s newest book Between God and Hitler: Military Chaplains in Nazi Germany (New York/Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2023), which sparked this connection for me. Bergen argues that most German military chaplains and religious leaders not only failed to speak out against the Nazi regime but actively supported it through their words, presence, and inaction. Her thesis strongly challenges the notion of clerical moral neutrality: military chaplaincy served to normalize and legitimize the actions of those in power by promoting a ‘muscular Christianity’ that supported the war effort. Bergen indicates that these chaplains were ideologically aligned officers selected for their loyalty to the regime; and that, pre-World War II, the prestige and limited number of chaplain positions in the German army made them difficult to obtain. As such, more often than not, as Bergen implies, German military chaplains highly valued their positions and were thus reluctant to risk repercussions by speaking out against the regime. She concludes that German military chaplains constantly jockeyed for self-worth and importance with their comrades. This occurred throughout the war because the need for religious guidance was judged in direct correlation with the achievements of the German army. In other words, when the army was losing, soldiers would ask, “Where is God?” When their military was succeeding, soldiers felt no need for the chaplain’s presence.
  9. Shared with permission.
  10. Abraham Joshua Heschel, “On Prayer” in Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity: Essays, ed. Susannah Heschel (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1996): 263.