We often talk about identity as if it were fixed, something we have settled on for ourselves, and yet identity is rarely fixed; rather, it is a dynamic process. In reality, we are always in the process of becoming ourselves. Our identity is shaped, moment by moment, by the tension between our experiences of others and our own inner perceptions, or, as Anton Boisen called it, our “inner world” of meaning and experience. To become a self is not something we achieve alone; we become who we are only through relationships.

The origins of pastoral care lie not in credentialing, policies, or procedures, but in the ancient human response to suffering: the willingness to step beyond routine and role when another person’s pain demands attention. At its heart is the timeless call to love one’s neighbor, a calling older than hospitals, ethics boards, or clinical pastoral training programs. Campbell (b. 1938–) insisted that this ethic of love and the demands of professionalism are always in tension, and he refused to smooth over that tension. He urged pastoral care providers to acknowledge it, feel it, and reflect on how it shapes and informs who we are.

The mark of pastoral competence is discernment. It is, above all, an art, a living practice, and a presence that takes shape in the dynamic interplay between patient and chaplain. It calls us to listen beyond words, to attend to the unspoken currents of fear, hope, grief, and despair, and to respond with courage, curiosity, humility, and thoughtful judgment rather than according to predetermined outcomes.

Covenant is not a contract. It cannot be reduced to compliance, credentialing, or procedure. It is relational, moral, and theological. Covenant binds us to one another not through hierarchy or enforcement, but through promise, shared responsibility, and the courage to speak truthfully and to be addressed in turn.

Clinical Pastoral Education unfolds within institutions: hospitals governed by protocols, documentation, performance metrics, and watchful towers. These structures are necessary. They preserve order, safety, and continuity of care. Yet, CPE does not form chaplains primarily in the tower or the yard, nor under the glare of the floodlight or the scrutiny of the spotlight. It forms them in the margin.

True pastoral presence is an act of attentive openness, a willingness to tolerate the tension of uncertainty and to allow the unfolding of another’s life without interference. In this stance, simply being present becomes a powerful expression of care.

Every organization begins with a sense of purpose, a mission that coheres the community, clarifies why it exists, and articulates the principles that guide its life. Yet even the most carefully conceived mission is fragile. Mission drift does not announce itself with flourish or fanfare. It creeps in quietly, like morning fog across familiar landscapes, altering contours, making strange that which was once, at a glance, familiar. By the time members notice, the organization may look and act quite differently from what its founders envisioned.