Spaces for Wholeness

            Wendy Cadge's book Paging God; Religion in the Halls of Medicine (2012) beautifully explores the notion of the chaplaincy in hospitals, and how it has changed over time in North American hospitals, both in meaning and in appearance. I have been learning quite a few interesting points from this book. For one, I never realized prior to reading this book how much hospitals in North America have historically been tied to religious spaces, such as the Christian church. In fact, hospitals originally arose from hospices, places where pastoral care was a frequent driving force for healing both the physical body and the spirit. Only recently have hospitals become more focused on healing the physical body through science, as opposed to the more holistic goal of healing the whole person. 
         It has only been recently, it seems, that chaplaincy has become an established discipline in its own right, with the growing pressures to validate or certify all health-care professionals . Cadge also chronicles an accompanying urge to neutralize chaplain spaces so that no one is excluded from spiritual practices in hospitals. For example, she notes how chaplaincy spaces in hospitals are often stripped of any religious symbols or furnishings, so that people of all denominations can feel welcome. Where possible, pulpits and other furnishing in traditional churches are equipped with wheels,  so that spaces can make way for other denominations. It is difficult to say whether perhaps too much neutrality can end up diminishing the spiritual capabilities of a space. For example, Cadge reports  chaplaincy places in hospitals where hardly anyone attends, because the spaces are so bare, save for the occasional abstract painting or gurgling fountain (p.67). It seems that without overt spiritual or religious symbolism, people may be at a loss as to how to use public spaces for personal spiritual practice, such as meditation or prayer.
    Cadge's observations are perhaps not surprising, considering a long-standing debate over the value of imagery and iconography in spiritual practice. Some spiritual practices heavily rely on images as pointers or symbols that help guide practitioners to an insight into themselves or their nature. Others feel that all spirituality is completely internal, and it is not valuable for practitioners to rely too heavily on  external images for support. Negotiating what belongs or does not belong in a place of meditation or worship might involve a tug of war between conflicting views of what spiritual spaces should be able to furnish for people.
    As I read Cadge's book, I become more aware of how problematic geographically locating spiritual practice can be. Where are spaces of spiritual learning and wholeness, exactly, and can anyone really leave a particular space to naturally furnish that for people?  What happens when people look to a particular space to provide them with spiritual inspiration, be it in the form of a quiet meditation room, or a prayer hall, or the like? My feeling is that it's hard for a space to speak to people's spiritual needs unless it points to something that teaches, guides, or informs the person in some way. It is also hard for a space to 'become' spiritually inviting unless there are communities of practitioners actively and regularly using that space. For example, simply attending a quite space is not going to automatically make a person want to meditate, even those who have a prior background of meditation experience. Even something that is presented as 'neutral' or non-intrusive can end up becoming an obstacle to practice, simply because it does not invite practice to arise. It gets overlooked, unless some group of practitioners can see the image's potential to point to a contemplative experience.
     The interesting point I also found in Cadge's work is: I cannot help but feel that the natural imagery and 'abstract art' found in some chaplaincy spaces in hospitals owes something to a similar "Zen" aesthetic found in certain paintings or poems. But I think the main difference is that whereas those traditional Zen arts are trying to point to mind, I am not sure if the natural or abstract images found in hospital meditation rooms are accomplishing the same thing. It's tempting to say that any form of art or scenery that is 'minimal' can encourage a place for contemplative or reflective practice. On the other hand, neutrality often has a way of being overlooked or habituated, especially if people haven't yet caught inspiration to practice meditation or contemplative practices. So I think that a further study is warranted into what spiritual space in hospitals really do for people, and how they are experienced by different kinds of practitioners.


Cadge, Wendy, (2012), Paging God: Religion in the Halls of Medicine. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.