Deacon's work with mentally ill is `grace-ful'

By KATE BLAIN

Assistant Editor

Planning liturgies and communion services can be a minefield when your congregation is made up of patients at the Capital District Psychiatric Center in Albany.

CDPC chaplain Deacon Charles Hall and sacramental minister Rev. Joseph Cotugno often start with "Amazing Grace."

"That's our theme song," said Deacon Hall with a smile. "We sing `Amazing Grace' a lot."

In fact, said Father Cotugno, regular parishes could learn a lot from this more eclectic community: While those who show up for Mass may not all be Catholic, they all sing -- loudly.

"It's cacophony, but they're singing," he remarked. "They're not afraid to sing out. If parishes sang like that, they'd raise the roof!"

Cautious choices

Choosing Scripture readings can also be complicated. Deacon Hall avoids anything that mentions demons or being possessed; he's also careful about passages that mention God the Father, since many of those struggling with mental illness have also been abused by father figures.

"We try to concentrate on passages that give people hope," he said. "That's the one thing they're searching for. We believe in a God who is forgiving, who is all-loving and who embraces us as individuals. I come back to that over and over."

The deacon and priest are both passionate about their work at CDPC. While Father Cotugno (see sidebar) celebrates Mass there only every other week in between his work as head of the Diocese's diaconate formation program, Deacon Hall spends the lion's share of his time at the center. The deacon is also a resident in Albany Medical Center's clinical-pastoral education (CPE) program, learning to be a resource for those making healthcare decisions.

Into the mind

Chaplaincy with the mentally ill is an experience 26 years in the Army couldn't prepare Deacon Hall for. He retired from his military career in 2000, having been ordained a deacon four years before. He was always fascinated with the human psyche and the psychology of Karl Jung, having studied at St. Bernard's Institute, the Albany Diocese's graduate school of theology and ministry.

When he heard about an open chaplaincy position at CDPC, he said, "there was something compelling about this place and the things people are suffering with that just pulled me in. I find hospital ministry difficult at times because I'm an introvert, but there's something about coming in here that's uplifting. I love it."

Initially, he admitted, he had to get past his misconception of a mentally ill person as acting out and potentially violent. Patients at CDPC may be struggling with schizophrenia, mood disorders, depression, bipolar disorders or variations of these; but he soon learned that between medications and treatment, most patients are relatively stable -- and that CDPC is a secure environment for those who aren't.

Getting feet wet

The deacon first "shadowed" a chaplain intern working at the center, then took a turn at meeting patients himself.

"It was a little daunting," he said. "You have to be concerned for your safety." But surprisingly, he found that "the people really embrace you."

Today, Deacon Hall spends much of his time evaluating patients coming into the center. Each new patient is screened by a chaplain, who asks about their denomination, involvement with a faith community, whether they want that community contacted, their spiritual practices (Bible reading, saying the Rosary etc.) and whether faith is a help or a hindrance to them. (Some patients have had negative past experiences with religion.)

Unlike regular hospitals, where patients quickly come and go, "you build relationships with people here," he said. Since he estimates an average stay as two or three years, "the patients will be here a while. You become available to them and they come to know you."

In place of God

Most patients, he's found, want a bond with a representative of God. The deacon joked that he's been called "every name in the book" -- "Father," "Pastor" and "Reverend" are popular misnomers, and some patients just call him "Charlie."

But everyone knows him, particularly because he holds communion services on each unit every Wednesday for those who aren't allowed to leave.

As many as seven or eight people per unit attend the communion services; 25 to 30 come to Mass in CDPC's tiny chapel. Those times "are probably the most ecumenical environments I've ever experienced, which I like," said Deacon Hall. "A lot of patients have `tested the waters' regarding religions; they're very eclectic. But they all profess a belief in God, and ritual is very important -- especially for people experiencing emotional problems. The Mass is very riveting and comforting."

Counseling

The deacon is also available to speak privately with patients. He spoke of the pain of those searching for hope, struggling to forgive people who've wronged them -- "and we're talking about some pretty horrific stuff" -- and wondering if God will forgive their actions.

"There's a very thin line between them and me," he pointed out. "I attempt to reassure them there is this loving Creator who isn't going to take away their pain and suffering, but is suffering in the midst of it with us."

Some patients leave feeling better. Some aren't changed. Some struggle with anger.

"Anger is a good word," Deacon Hall commented. "One thing I say is that God is okay with the anger; God can take it."

When a patient's anger is directed at him as a representative of the faith, he has a simple solution: "Accept it and be there with them."

God's voice?

On a recent afternoon, the deacon's tiny, cluttered office and the chapel next door were quiet. Out in the "mall," a common area for patients allowed to leave their units, a tall man with wild blond hair quietly walked up and down the hallway, while two staff members stopped to chat with each other.

"We have a lot of walk-ins," Deacon Hall noted. "There are some people who come every day; that's their comfort zone."

He became thoughtful. "When you go to church," he observed, "you often hear a preacher talk about `listening to God's voice within.' That can be difficult for those who hear voices, and those voices may not be telling them to do things that are good.

"There are people here that hear voices. It's that fine thread between the congregation out there and the people in here. What is God's voice? It makes me wonder and question and think."