Reflective Practice - Formation and Supervision in Ministry (E-Journal)

Haynes, Robert

Corey, Gerald

Moulton, Patrice

Robert Haynes, Gerald Corey, and Patrice Moulton, Clinical Supervision 
in the Helping Professions: A Practical Guide (Pacific Grove, CA: Brooks/ 
Cole, 2002), 360 pp. 
The aim of this book is to provide a practical guide to “topics essential to 
becoming an effective supervisor.” A clinician or chaplain venturing into the 
world of clinical or chaplaincy supervision could find no better single current 
source of written guidance in thoughtfully considering clinical supervision’s 
many facets. Drawing on their extensive experience, as well as literature 
on clinical supervision, the authors present a wide range of material in 
an interactive format that encourages personal reflection and the integration 
of theoretical material and supervision experience. In so doing, they provide 
the reader with an opportunity to develop a well balanced and sound foundation 
for effective work with supervisees. 
Each chapter begins with a set of “focus questions” designed to elicit 
the clinician’s personal experience, provide a structure for personal reflection, 
and support the growth of a well considered basis for supervision. 
Chapters also include clinical vignettes, outlines summarizing key topics, 
and practical tips and worksheets. Each chapter ends with structured exercises 
and activities that will extend and deepen the reader’s understanding 
of the topics covered. 
Chapters are organized to cover the arc of a supervisors training. 
Chapters 1 and 2 introduce the history and evolution of supervision, pro- 
vide a clear definition, and outline the responsibilities, goals, and objectives 
for the supervisor and the supervisee. Chapter 3 explicates the complexity 
of the supervisory relationship, including characteristics of the supervisor 
and supervisee, which can support or hinder supervision. They also discuss 
common conflicts and challenges. Chapters 4 and 5 provide an in depth 
discussion of methods of supervision including configurations (individual, 
group), a wider range of tools (audio/video taping, role play, and observation), 
and methods based on various modes of psychotherapy (psychodynamic, 
person-centered, and cognitive behavioral). Models of supervision 
are presented grouped into developmental, psychotherapy based, and integrative 
categories. The authors include a wide range of perspectives, as well 
as guidance in choosing and developing a personal model of supervision. 
Chapter 6 addresses the importance of multicultural competence in the supervisor 
and includes methods for self assessment and reflection, as well as 
means of enhancing ones cultural sensitivity. Ethical and legal dimensions 
of supervision are the focus of chapters 7 and 8. Chapter 7 covers confidentiality, 
multiple roles, ethical boundaries, and changes in the supervisory 
relationship over time. It also addresses the important, and often ignored, 
topic of competence in supervisors, as well as how to assess and respond to 
incompetence. Chapter 8 reviews essential legal aspects of the supervisory 
relationship, including detailed forms and policies that ensure that legal requirements 
are followed. Chapter 9 provides clear and cogent guidance for 
developing a plan of response to crisis situations involving supervisees and 
their clients. The authors provide a framework that can be applied to the 
unique circumstances of each crisis and are careful to remind the reader that 
there are no “cookbook” responses. 
In the final two chapters, the authors provide a method of evaluating 
the practice of supervision and guidance in becoming an effective and 
successful supervisor. Topics include the importance of learning to pair the 
non-judgmental attitude prized in psychotherapy with the ability to evaluate 
a supervisee and provide clear and appropriate feedback—particularly 
negative feedback. They also discuss the use of written evaluations. The ideal 
supervisor is described by both supervisors and supervisees. The difficulties 
and challenges that supervisors’ experience are shared in the authors’ 
own words, which once again support the personal reflection and transparency 
of this book. Finally the authors conclude with recommendations for 
enhancing the practice of supervision. 
The depth and breadth of this book is considerable. There are, however, 
several areas that are notably absent. For clergy, chaplains, and other 
spiritual care providers, the single most important topic not included is the 
role of faith in the life and practice of the supervisee and his or her clients. 
Considering that skill in understanding the impact of faith on clinical work 
is increasingly expected in all kinds of clinical training programs, the fact 
that there is no substantive inclusion of it in the text is an unfortunate omission. 
For the chaplain or pastoral care provider this is particularly telling. 
Recognition and inclusion of a client’s faith is essential for effective spiritual 
care, as is awareness of and sensitivity to the diversity of spiritual and 
religious traditions and their expression. Possible contributions from archetypal 
psychology are also absent, as is consideration of the role of dreams, 
myths, symbols, and metaphors in the supervision relationship, the development 
of the supervisee, and his or her work with clients. Finally, the role 
of gender in the supervision relationship, the development of new supervisors, 
and the work of supervisees with their clients could have been given 
more attention. Considering the omission of the role of spirituality/faith/ 
religion as an aspect of clinical work, this book could be fruitfully paired 
with one which explicitly addresses these dimensions, for example Griffith 
and Griffith’s, Encountering the Sacred in Psychotherapy.1 
No single text can be expected to fulfill all the needs of a person entering 
into supervisory training. Rather, after careful consideration, a few 
should be selected to provide a foundation that can be expanded and built 
upon over time. This should be one of those few. It provides a rich and well 
thought out guide to the development of effective supervisory relationships 
that can be fruitfully consulted again and again. 
 
NOTE 
1. James L. Griffith and Melissa Elliott Griffith, Encountering the Sacred in Psychotherapy: 
How to Talk to People about Their Spiritual Lives (New York: The Guilford Press, 2002). 
 
Daijaku Judith kinst 
Institute of Buddhist Studies 
Berkeley, CA 


English

Clinical Supervision in the Helping Professions: A Practical Guide

Jenkins, David R.

Do Spiritual Practices and Ascetical Theology Have a Place in Clinical Pastoral Education?

Floding, ed., Matthew

Matthew Floding, ed., Welcome to Theological Field Education! (Herndon, 
VA: The Alban Institute, 2011), 206 pp. 
In Welcome to Theological Field Education, Matt Floding has gathered together 
some of the luminaries who teach and work at the intersections of theology 
and practice to offer their collective wisdom about several of the major 
components that comprise a robust Field Education program in theological 
schools. The end result is a very accessible book, which will be most beneficial 
to several different audiences including students preparing for field 
education, new and seasoned supervisor/mentors, as well as faculty and administrators 
responsible for experiential learning in a theological curriculum. 
In this edited volume, each chapter gives deep consideration to one 
dimension of field education in such a way that it is possible to use select 
chapters as resources to the learning agendas of the audience with whom 
one is working. For example, I could envision asking theological students to 
read Floding’s introductory chapter, “What is Theological Field Education?” 
prior to even beginning their work in reflective practice. I could then imagine 
using the concrete tools Lee Carroll offers in his chapter, “The Forming 
Work of Congregations” as a way to gain a complexified understanding of 
one’s learning context. Also, I can imagine using Emily Click’s essay, “Ministerial 
Reflection” in an attempt to teach reflective skills; and I can see benefit 
in asking students to return to this same essay once they are more fully 
engaged in the experience. 
Similarly, each of the chapters on case studies, peer group reflection, 
self-care, ethics, assessment, and cross-cultural placements could be used 
as stand alone resources for use with students or supervisors. Many of the 
chapters have a section aimed specifically at those who supervise/mentor 
our students which could easily become components of an ongoing training 
program. 
In addition to these helpful, topically defined chapters, Charlene Jin 
Lee and Lorraine Ste-Marie each offer a chapter which helps us understand 
the meta-narrative of this work in experiential education. Lee’s chapter, 
“The Art of Supervision and Formation” considers the poetics and artful 
dimension of this work which helps locate it, ultimately, in the heart of mystery. 
This chapter suggests that we would do well to think metaphorically 
and artfully about the images which inform our teaching. Ste-Marie’s chapter, 
“Language and Leadership” helps us peel back our assumptions about 
language itself, so that our acts of leadership might have more integrity. 
One of the most daunting pedagogical challenges facing theological 
field educators at any school is that of teaching our students how to reflect 
theologically on their experience. Whether we serve at a denominational 
seminary with clear theological tenets and claims, or whether we serve at an 
ecumenical divinity school, where the theological landscape beckons with 
many paths, helping our students do the integrative work at the intersections 
of theology and practice remains our central task. This book by Matt 
Floding and our colleagues provides wisdom in creating the “scaffolding” 
upon which we can design a program of deep and rich theological reflection. 
 
Viki Matson 
Vanderbilt Divinity School 
Nashville, TN 


Welcome to Theological Field Education!

Rorro, Mary C.

Reflective Practice: Formation and Supervision in Ministry
ISSN 2325-2855
© Copyright 2013 Reflective Practice: Formation and Supervision in Ministry
All rights reserved.
A Korean War Veteran’s Dream
Mary C. Rorro
Summary
This brief vignette illustrates the power of collaborate conversation for the same of 
healing moral injury.
The little girl walks up to me on the beach. At first, I’m happy to see her. 
As she comes closer, I see she’s been crying and ask her, “What’s wrong, 
sweetheart, don’t cry.” Then she always says the same thing: “Why you 
shoot me, GI?” I start to cry and she disappears. I never meant to hurt her. 
She was just looking for food in the dark and she died because she was 
starving. I have never hurt a fly and now killed a child. I’ll never forget 
her face when I pulled her from the rice paddy—she was like a little angel. 
She could have grown up and had babies and been happy in her village. 
Instead, she only lives on in my dream as a six-year-old girl. They say it 
wasn’t your fault—you were doing your job—but how can God forgive 
me? I can’t forgive myself. Now my own daughter has died and I think 
it’s a punishment from God. I don’t know if I’ll see the girls in Heaven.
A Therapist’s Response
This is the recurring dream of a Korean war veteran who has been haunted 
since the war for accidentally killing a young Korean girl and two other 
children in a rice paddy at night while on guard duty. He had thought that 
the enemy was primed for attack, but in the darkness shot these starving 
children who were looking to take the soldiers’ food. This patient’s poignant 
story was so moving that it compelled me to write his story. The emotional 
Mary C. Rorro, DO, New Jersey Veterans Healthcare System, James J. Howard Outpatient 
Clinic , 970 Rt. 70, Brick, NJ 08724 (Email: mary.rorro@va.gov).
48
content of his regret and guilt weighed on me. I felt such compassion for this 
gentle man who lived with grief every day of his life. There was no absolu-
tion I could provide and no forgiveness he would accept. His dream embod-
ied a wish fulfillment that he never killed her and that she was still alive on 
the beach, walking to him unafraid. It was as if it had never happened—un-
til this scene was shattered every night with her crying, “Why you shoot me, 
GI?” As I heard his dream time and time again, I realized she had not only 
lost her life, along with the two other children, but my patient’s spirit was 
lost as well—he was the fourth victim. For this veteran’s enduring pain and 
my own for him, I wrote this poem:
Korean Girl Poem
Little girl, straight black hair
 smallest of the three
you made too much noise
 I had no choice
can you forgive me
You’ve been eternally young
 since nineteen fifty one
haunting my dreams
 until my day is done.
I’m happy to see you
 In my dream alive
until you say, with
 searching tears in your eyes,
“Why you shoot me, GI?”
Pulling the trigger
 sealed my tortured lot.
My pain would have ended there
 if I instead were shot.
Maybe I’ll see her in God’s House
 though maybe I will not;
Her face stays with me
 to my grave
four childrens’ spirits
 lost.
A KOREAN WAR VETERAN’S DREAM
49
Korean Veteran’s Response
I did not know how he would react when I gave him this poem on the next 
visit. I did not want it to make him feel even more dysphoric, but thought 
it should be shared. After reading it he said, “You have been so good to me, 
Doc.” He shook my hand and asked to take it home. Near the holidays, he 
brought me a green wooden framed copy of my poem which he made. He 
was so proud, saying “Here, Doc, I want you to keep this in your office for 
other people to see, and put it near the door. I also have a copy hanging in 
my house; it makes me feel that I am honoring the girl’s memory.”
The Korean veteran still dreams of this little girl and feels this will 
never end. My listening and reframing of his story into the poem seems to 
have benefitted him and to have created an empathic connection between 
us as doctor and patient. On the next visit, he said that his own daughter 
had died. “Now they are both together in Heaven, the Korean girl and my 
daughter. Now maybe my daughter can tell her that I never meant to kill her 
and that it was a mistake. I don’t know if I’ll see them in Heaven.” His grief 
had been transformed into a healing remembrance of both children and a 
validation of his pain.
RORRO


A Korean War Veteran's Dream

Phillips, Susan

Spiritual Direction with Evangelical Christians 
Susan S. Phillips 
One of my favorite roles as executive director of New College Berkeley 
(NCB: an institute of the Graduate Theological Union) is supervising people 
who serve as spiritual directors to our NCB groups throughout the greater 
San Francisco Bay Area. These groups meet monthly to pray together in a 
contemplative spiritual direction form and the supervisory group for spiritual 
directors of those groups does the same. 
Recently the word “evangelical” cropped up in one of our meetings 
as we gathered in a circle before the formal time of supervision began. One 
spiritual director said her group includes someone who is “very evangelical.” 
“I consider myself evangelical in the sense that I believe in the Good 
News of Jesus Christ,” she said, “but I just don’t share the political commitments 
of many American evangelicals.” Other spiritual directors in the 
group, all from different Christian traditions, seemed to murmur in harmony. 
Yet, there was unease in the conversation. The theological conversation 
seemed to move us away from the question of more central concern for our 
meeting: How does a director’s spirituality inform the sacred art of accompanying 
a group of people as they open their hearts to God and one another 
in spiritual direction? 
As is our practice, the supervision time moved from casual, gathering 
conversation to the reading of a short passage of Scripture and then into silent 
prayer. Emerging from the silence, the spiritual director who had mentioned 
the word “evangelical,” said: “Again, in the silence, I’m moved to 
tears. This happens when I’m with the directees, too. I remember God is 
here. God is with each of the directees. God is with us.” As our meeting continued, 
we returned to a devotional stance, experiencing and standing in 
God’s grace that informs and sustains our spiritual care, a perspective central 
to evangelical spirituality. 
As an adjective deriving from Greek, “evangelical,” like its theological 
cousin “gospel,” points to the centrality of Christian Scripture and communicates 
the joy that faith bestows. Literally, euangélion (eu = good + angelion = 
message) is good news (gospel). This definition is in keeping with the stance 
of the spiritual directors I supervise. They are Christians, devoted to Scripture, 
and engaging in a ministry (spiritual direction) that communicates the 
joy bestowed by faith. In the sixteenth century, William Tyndale wrote that 
“evangelical” signifies ‘good, merry, glad and joyful tidings’ that make the 
heart glad and the person ‘sing, dance, and leap for joy.’”1 Those are not the 
first images that come to many minds when they hear the word ‘evangelical’, 
yet they’re good ones for the practice of spiritual direction which is, at 
base, about accompanying others as they seek and attend to the One Who is 
Truth and Love. Indeed, as spiritual directors we attend to the directee’s experiences 
of grace, joy, and freedom, and, as a supervisor, I look for the same 
in the directors with whom I work. It is those spiritual gifts that our supervisory 
group turned toward as we were together in silent prayer. 
Today most evangelical Christians when meeting someone from 
whom they hope to receive soul care would introduce themselves as Christian, 
without any prefacing adjective. Nevertheless, they have been shaped 
by a particular tradition that has theological, historical, and cultural components, 
all of which affect how spiritual direction is sought and received. 
Those offering spiritual care and direction to evangelical Christians 
and, therefore, respecting the evangelical perspective, encounter significant 
differences in orientation across the generations. Older evangelicals who became 
adults just after World War II are interested in apologetics, the reasons 
for faith which can then be offered to nonbelievers in the hope of their conversion. 
Some of these evangelicals do seek spiritual direction, but most are 
unfamiliar with the practice. Evangelicals who were young adults in the 
1970s through the 1990s are characterized as more pragmatic, less convinced 
by objective evidence for the claims of faith, largely ahistorical in their religious 
identification, and more attentive to experience. Most evangelical 
spiritual directors in the United States today are in this age cohort. 
Christians identifying with the evangelicalism of the new millennium, 
whether using the word “evangelical” or not, retain belief in the truth of 
Christ, yet, in keeping with their post-modern leanings, are less sure that 
they know the whole of that truth. They are relationally-focused and praxisoriented, 
emphasizing devotion and right living. They are often politically 
liberal and interested in global concerns, such as the abolition of modern 
slavery, AIdS prevention worldwide, and the relief of global hunger. They 
are also more open to spiritual understandings and practices from the whole 
history of the Christian church, especially the pre-modern church, that include 
contemplative practices of prayer and worship, adaptations of monasticism, 
pilgrimage, and spiritual direction. This reflects a notable shift 
within the evangelical tradition toward spiritual formation and the disciplines 
that aid it such as lectio divina and the Ignatian prayer of examen. It 
also indicates a response by the evangelical tradition to a spiritual need felt 
by many Christians. 
This new direction is reflected in the 2011 edition of the Dictionary of 
Christian Spirituality—edited by scholars from evangelical seminaries— 
which contains entries for spiritual direction, formation, and mentoring, as 
well as ones devoted to early saints of the church and pre-Reformation practices. 
The inclusion of these topics signals a turn within evangelical spirituality 
toward attention to soul care and growth, which is of significance in the 
practice of spiritual direction. In the supervision session mentioned at the 
beginning of this essay, the conversation shifts from one about theological 
categories and toward a spiritual experience of God’s grace through prayer. 
For evangelical Christians, the Good News of Jesus Christ offers the 
grounding vision of spiritual progress. Scripture claims we are to be “sanctified 
by the Spirit to be obedient to Jesus Christ” (1 peter 1:2). We are enjoined 
to follow Christ (John 21:19), grow in grace (2 pet. 3:18), and become 
rooted and grounded in love (Eph. 3:17). According to Christian historian 
William Bouwsma, “[t]he essential element in the Christian idea of adulthood 
is…the capacity for growth, which is assumed to be a potentiality of 
any age of life”2 Yet, as dallas Willard, a prominent exponent of evangelical 
spiritual formation, claims, “We have for most of the twentieth century 
been in [a] period of time when, in all segments, the Christian churches have 
been distracted from the central task of teaching their people how to live the 
spiritual life in a way that brings them progressively to enjoy the character 
of Christ as their own.”3 The traditional focus of evangelical Christianity has 
been on the mind and mission of the Christian believer. Scant attention was 
given to spiritual growth and the cultivation of prayer, and some wrote of a 
“sanctification gap” existing between a person’s conversion and the end of 
his or her earthly life. 
Today evangelical churches have begun to correct their neglect of spiritual 
formation (including soul care practices like spiritual direction). There 
is a great thirst for spiritual vitality among those who are steeped in Scripture. 
Evangelical Christians find the invitation to lively spirituality in the 
Gospel, yet in their churches have too often found their minds engaged and 
their hearts untended. As a supervisor to spiritual directors working with 
evangelical Christians, I am keen to cultivate the directors’ attunement to 
this situation, respecting the biblical literacy and strong theological tradition 
of their directees, and paying attention to how God’s grace flows through 
this particular form of spirituality. 
NOTES 
1. d . Bruce Hindmarsh, “Contours of Evangelical Spirituality,” in Dictionary of Christian 
Spirituality, Glen G. Scorgie, Simon Chan, Gordon T. Smith, James d. Smith III, eds. 
(Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), 146. 
2. William J. Bouwsma, “Christian Adulthood,” in Adulthood, Erik H. Erikson, ed. (New 
York: WW Norton, 1978), 85. 
3. d allas Willard, “Foreword,” in Spiritual Formation as if the Church Mattered: Growing in 
Christ through Community, James C. Wilhoit, ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 
2008), 9. 
 
Susan S. Phillips,PhD, Executive director and professor of Sociology and Christianity, 
New College Berkeley, Graduate Theological Union, 2029 durant Ave., Berkeley, CA 
94704 (Email: suphillips@aol.com). 


Spiritual Direction with Evangelical Christians

Abu-Shamsieh, Kamal

The Spiritual Formation of a Chaplain: 
an Islamic Perspective 
 
Kamal Abu-Shamsieh 
My spiritual formation as a Muslim chaplain has involved deep reflection 
on various verses in the Quran and the examination of the Sunnah1 in order 
that such sources will form me as a chaplain who strives to be available and 
present to Muslim patients and patients of diverse faiths. 
As a Muslim, the Lordship of God and the institution of prophethood 
that supports the concept of Tawhid or oneness of God is the theological foundation 
of my faith. In the divine plan for humanity, God empowered humans 
to be His vice-regents on Earth. In Quran (2:30), God said: “And [mention, O 
Muhammad], when your Lord said to the angels, “Indeed, I will make upon 
the earth a successive authority.” It is my understanding that a small group of 
people [from various faiths] will be entrusted to establish faith and to guide 
humanity as revealed in Quran (9:122): “...they could devote themselves to 
studies in religion, and admonish the people when they return to them—that 
thus they [may learn] to guard themselves [against evil].” 
My growth as a chaplain included the development of communication 
skills, awareness of my acceptance and respect for people, and empowerment 
through engagement and consultation for this ministry. My understanding of 
Quran 41:33 is that it teaches that better speech (da’wa) is a call to all humanity 
to follow the path of God and that better action (A’mal Salih) aims at mending 
relations. “And who is better in speech than one who invites to God and 
does righteousness and says, ‘Indeed, I am of the Muslims [those who submit 
to God].’” That verse forms me as a Muslim chaplain and sets the path for me 
to serve Muslims and non-Muslims alike through better speech and action. 
In addition, the Quran provides examples of skills that were taught to prophet 
Mohammad (pbuh) including the intentional balance between body, mind 
and heart. For example, the Quran describes the practice of soft-spoken speech 
and kindness to capture the hearts of people. Quran 3:159, states: “So by mercy 
from God, [O Muhammad], you were lenient with them. And if you had been 
rude [in speech] and harsh in heart, they would have disbanded you.” 
My growth in understanding the process of spiritual assessment included 
an awareness of my willingness and ability to accept and respect 
people through conscious engagement and consultation. In Quran 49:13, 
God said, “O mankind, indeed We [God] have created you from male and 
female and made you peoples and tribes that you may know one another. 
Indeed, the most noble of you [in the sight of God] is the one most [of God]” 
This verse increases my desire to conduct a spiritual assessment through 
intimate engagements with people in order to uncover interpersonal and 
intrapersonal dimensions of the self and the relationship with the divine. 
In the Maqased Al-Sharia’, or the goals of jurisprudence, several themes 
are addressed that highlight what is important for humanity. Among them 
are areas such as dealing with essentials (ad-daruriyat), necessities (al-hajiyat), 
or enhancement (at-tahsiniyat). The response in such cases is not a goal 
by itself but a tool, when preserved and/or cared for, that will bring benefits 
and/or alleviate harm or pain, enhance the quality of life, and strengthen 
faith. As a Muslim chaplain, I respond by providing services according to 
each individual’s needs as long as the services or its delivery are not contrary 
to my faith or belief. 
The Quran provides other themes that draw me closer to God and enhance 
my faith as I am being formed as a Muslim chaplain. 
The Closeness of God 
From an Islamic perspective, to ‘be with’ is illustrated in numerous verses of 
the Quran and prophetic narratives and addresses the availability of God to 
‘be with’ the individual. For example, Quran (9:40) teaches that the presence 
of God with the believers at times of difficultly brings comfort. For example, 
it was reported that the people of Mecca attempted to kill prophet Mohammad 
(pbuh) and ultimately drove him out of Mecca. He and his companion 
Abu-Bakr hid for three nights in a cave (Ghaar Thawr). The people of Mecca 
pursued them to the entrance of the cave, closed in onto them, and Abu- 
Bakr showed signs of fear and sadness. The verse (9:40) was revealed and 
the prophet said, ““Grieve not: verily, God is with us.” It is a reminder to the 
believer and to me, as a Muslim chaplain, not to be sad because God is available 
and near. The closeness of God in such circumstances brings comfort 
and a reminder of the availability of the mercy and love of God. Such closeness 
is mentioned in Quran (50:16) in a striking way: “We [God] are nearer 
to him [the human] than his jugular vein.” As a chaplain, the verse helps 
me articulate a theology that promotes the closeness of God, physically and 
spiritually, and comforts the patient by invoking the closeness of God to 
answer their prayers. In addition, the knowledge of God’s presence might 
empower some patients to be closer to God. 
The Availability of God 
The relationship between God and humanity is based on love. Love, according 
to God, means He is approachable and loves to be approached. Quran 
(2:186) states, “And when My servants ask you, [O Muhammad], concerning 
Me—indeed I am near. I respond to the invocation of the supplicant 
when he calls upon Me.” God is close, listens to the prayer of every suppliant, 
and will respond to their calls. In Hadith Qudsi2 number 15, “On the 
authority of Abu Hurayrah [may Allah be pleased with him], who said that 
the prophet [peace and blessings of Allah be upon him] said: “Allah the Almighty 
said: ‘I am as My servant thinks I am. I am with him when he makes 
mention of Me. If he makes mention of Me to himself, I make mention of him 
to Myself; and if he makes mention of Me in an assembly, I make mention 
of him in a better assembly. And if he draws near to Me at an arm’s length, I 
draw near to him a fathom’s length. And if he comes to Me walking, I go to 
him at speed.” In addition, some Muslims have interpreted the availability 
and closeness of God to mean there is no need for human intercession when 
it comes to the relationship between God and His servants. 
What then is the role of Imams when it comes to a patient’s spiritual 
care? As a chaplain, I explore what God’s love means for the patient and 
how such love is manifested. A patient might mention certain rituals that 
will bring satisfaction when performed or increase the love or God, while 
others might ask for companionship as the patient tells his/her own story. I 
reflect on the availability of the divine by being available myself to be with 
the patient, which by itself is enough and sufficient demonstration of love. 
peacefulness and Contentment 
My relationship with God instills peacefulness, calm, and happiness in my 
heart, body, and mind. Quran (13:28) encourages the remembrance of God 
as a path to bring about satisfaction as such remembrance enhances the 
quality of life and faith. 
The term Sakina is used to describe the state of peacefulness, satisfaction, 
and stillness. In Arabic, the term Sakana means ‘to dwell’ and Maskan 
is ‘home’. The home to the believer brings comfort after a long day at work 
and a stress-less environment where a husband and his wife take care of 
each other and their children. The relationship with God enhances spiritual 
contentment and brings joy to their hearts. Tranquility of the heart is 
achieved through dhikr, the constant remembrance of God. As a chaplain, 
I might reflect with patients about what brings peacefulness, contentment, 
and tranquility in their lives in the midst of sickness and pain; and what a 
patient can draw upon to achieve such peacefulness. 
Mending Relations 
The example of good action is linked to the state of faith in the Quran. The 
phrase, A’mal Salih, is often interpreted as “good deed”—that is a demonstration 
of faith. As a chaplain, I ask patients what the demonstration of faith or 
good action means to them. Many patients, both in their lives and in their 
struggle with Illness, face various interpersonal or intrapersonal challenges. 
The spiritual mending of relations might become an area that a patient 
reflects on as she/he seeks to become at peace with God, at peace with humanity, 
and at peace with himself/herself. Change is an intentional act that 
starts with the individual. Quran 13:11 teaches that God will enable change, 
however such change will not happen unless the individual change their 
own inner self first. As a chaplain, I seek to empower patients by encouraging 
each to begin the process of deep reflection to address what is important 
to him or her. I assess their strengths, weaknesses, and what resources 
are available to each to make such change possible whenever the patient is 
ready for the process. 
A chaplain is a professional who is present and available to be with the 
patient. The Quran gives the best example of God’s presence in our lives, 
and how such presence brings peace and tranquility. Whenever a Muslim 
is inflicted with a hardship, she/he is encouraged to show patience, reflect, 
and strengthen the soul with prayers. patience has great benefits: worldly 
and Heavenly. In order to show patience, a Muslim will need to empower 
the soul with a strong foundation of faith and the personal will and intention 
to exert patience. By being present and available, a Muslim chaplain 
reassures the patient that God is present and hears the supplications of the 
penitent, loves to be called on, and will fulfill His promises. 
 
NOTES 
1. Sunnah includes all what the prophet Mohammad [peace be upon him] said, did or 
approved of and was compiled, after the death of the prophet, and the canonization 
process of Hadith included the classification of each on a scale of its authenticity for its 
(Matn) text and (Sanad) the chain of its narrators. There are four books of Hadith: Sahih 
Al-Bukhari, Sahih Muslim, Sunan Abu-dawud, and the Muwatta of Imam Malik. 
2. Hadith Qudsi is a form of divine inspiration to prophet Mohammad narrated on behalf 
of God where the thoughts belong to God and the words are the prophet’s words. 
Unlike Hadith, Quran is God’s actual words. 
 
Kamal Abu-Shamsieh is founder of Muslim Spiritual Care Services (www.MuslimHealth. 
org) and provides spiritual care at Stanford Hospital and to Fresno hospitals. He can be 
reached at shamsieh@sbcglobal.net. 


The Spiritual Formation of a Chaplain: An Islamic Perspective.

Milne, Bruce

 
 
 
 
Bruce Milne, Dynamic Diversity: Building Class, Age, Race and Gender 
in the Church (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2007), 190 pp. 
There is now a diversity of literature pertaining to diversity in congregations. 
In recent years, a number of books have been written as resources for 
congregational leaders to nurture human diversity in community. A quick 
search on Amazon.com for the phrase “multicultural congregations” yields 
over 150 titles. Few of these, though, are aimed directly toward seminarians 
engaged in theological field education and praxeological reflection on their 
initial experiences in ministry. Theological field educators, therefore, must 
choose between the various books available for their students’ particular 
learning needs and challenges in ministry. Dynamic Diversity by Bruce Milne 
is one such book. 
Drawing from his own experience as pastor of the First Baptist Church 
in vancouver, Milne writes to inspire his readers with an inclusive reading 
of the gospel that would seek to gather a greater diversity of God’s children 
in Christian fellowship. Indeed, as Milne develops his position, it becomes 
clear that he sees such inclusive fellowship as the norm—and not just an option— 
for congregational life as a response to God’s call in Christ to all. 
Citing the missiologist and historian Andrew Walls, Milne advocates 
a congregational model defined as “diversity in unity under Christ.”1 This 
means, first, building churches that move in the direction of God’s purpose 
for the ages—all things together under Christ—and, accordingly, that selfconsciously 
set out to unite in Christ the diversities and polarities of their 
surrounding communities. Moreover, Milne confesses, to do so is a doxological 
praise to God. 
Milne makes his case by appealing to Scriptural examples, theological 
doctrine, and an account of current trends in society. He attends in great 
detail to biblical materials as proof text and foundation for his argument. 
He appeals to the cosmic Christ depicted in Ephesians and Colossians, to 
the precedent of circumcision in Galatians, to the struggle over division in 
Corinth, to the fellowship of saints in Hebrews, and to the pentecostal community 
and mission in Acts. Doctrinally, Milne appeals to the Trinity, creation, 
incarnation, atonement, Ecclesiastes, and eschatology. 
There is a sociological line of his argument as well, as he presents a picture 
of postmodern pluralism, citing authors as disparate as Andrew Walls, 
Alvin Toffler, and Ray Bakke. Again, though, he looks at this world confessionally— 
as one where Jesus is Lord—and concludes that “we can credibly 
establish a meaningful parallel between the first- and twenty-first century 
worlds.” He urges the contemporary church to be “prepared to become the 
modern equivalent of the instrument God used so effectively in the first century— 
a diversity-in-unity, ‘together under Christ’ community’” (p. 84). 
He urges us to view all “fellow Christians in Christ,” as people for 
whom Christ died, in whom Christ now lives, and through whom Christ 
will one day reign (pp. 144–145). 
While this is a universal vision, it is not an absolute inclusivity. Milne 
expects this inclusive community of Christians to also reach a common 
moral understanding on certain matters and a consensus about sexuality 
in particular. He explains: “A specific clarification is required here, as the 
adjective ‘inclusive’ has come to mean, for some, a tolerance of sexual partnerships, 
particularly homosexual ones, that contravene the biblical man- 
date...” Milne recognizes that this is a divisive issue, but insists “Christians 
are, however, without exception, called to faithfulness to the clear teaching 
of Scripture, not least in this area” (p. 127). 
It is here, at the limits of Milne’s understanding of inclusive community 
that this book’s usefulness for seminary programs in theological field 
education will itself be most clearly limited. It falls on one side of the chasm 
that threatens to divide the church. His manner of constructing his case, attending 
extensively to Scripture to proof test his position, will appeal most 
to more evangelical students in programs of study that employ similar methodological 
approaches. Here, its potential value is considerable, depending 
upon the manner in which it is taught. However, it will neither be convincing 
nor appreciated by progressive theological students, whose vision for 
inclusivity is to embrace a diversity of sexual orientation. Finally, Milne’s 
sweeping and facile dismissal of sexual diversity will simply be disappointing 
to those students caught in the middle on this issue who are trying to 
address it with authenticity, faithfulness, and care. 
 
NOTE 
1. Andrew F. Walls, The Cross-Cultural Process in Christian History (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 
2002), 72–78. 
 
Joseph E. Bush, Jr. 
Wesley Theological Seminary 
Washington, DC 


Dynamic Diversity: Building Class, Age, Race and Gender in the Church

Chaplain, Anonymous Military

Reflective Practice: Formation and Supervision in Ministry
ISSN 2325-2855
© Copyright 2013 Reflective Practice: Formation and Supervision in Ministry
All rights reserved.
Costly Empathy
Anonymous Military Chaplain
Summary
A chaplain, who was not there, imagines how a soldier died to save his buddies. The 
chaplain’s empathic imagination confirms the words of Helen Keller: “Security is 
mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men experi-
ence it.”
I was not on that Ramadi rooftop that Friday afternoon, September 29, just 
days after my daughter turned three—I was 75 miles east in Baghdad. Al-
though inside the wire and supposedly secure, I felt vulnerable. Helen Keller 
once said, “Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor 
do the children of men experience it.” There on that rooftop, I could enjoy 
the superstition—an illusion—that with height came safety. I was above the 
fray; the fight was below—it was dangerous down there; here, not as much.
I had lived with that illusion my whole life, the illusion of being above 
it all, beyond danger’s reach—bad things happen to other people. “All things 
work together for good to those who love God” (Romans 8:28). I believed 
it until that grenade exploded my illusion and demolished my superstition. 
Once it did, I lost my innocence, my faith, my sense of peace and joy, and I 
want to say my friend Mike, but then I didn’t know him until after he had 
died.
I was not on that Ramadi rooftop that day, but I have been there many 
times since. How else would I be able to visualize so clearly the sand-col-
ored ledge, to feel the searing heat and the grit underfoot, to squint in the 
sunlight and lean forward into the silence and listen with my whole being 
for the sound of danger, to mute my breathing to mask even a whisper? 
How else would I find myself so on edge again and again, ready to leap to-
ward safety or lunge toward danger? Why else would that site be so plant-
ed in my memory? Is my memory another casualty of the war? There is no 
prosthesis for memory.
33
I was not on that Ramadi rooftop that day. The night before, on Sep-
tember 28, I had worked into the wee hours of the morning, as always. 
Sometime between 0200 and 0300 hours, I left my place of duty and stepped 
out into the darkness that swallowed the night. Alone I walked to my hooch 
about a mile away. It was pitch black: no ambient light, save for a sliver of 
the moon and the tracers that darted randomly across the sky, as they did 
each night while I traversed the darkness. I navigated my course by land-
marks detectable only when I drew near: a gate, a curb, a tree, a patch of 
gravel, a gully. Occasionally I used a small pocket light if I veered off course, 
flashing it for a second or so to adjust without being seen. I was spent, physi-
cally and emotionally, and terrified.
Reaching the tin trailer, I entered without benefit of light to avoid wak-
ing my hooch mate, whom I never saw by day. Slipping in silently, I unlaced 
my boots, slid them off, slipped out of my uniform, and dropped onto my 
rack. At first I lay still, craning my ears to hear sounds distant or near, listen-
ing for the crack of gunshots or the explosion of mortars. Then I whispered 
the same prayer I said every night while in theater: “Lord, I am too exhaust-
ed to keep watch any longer. Be my shield. Protect me from any harm that 
may come this way.” For a few breaths, I lay still while my ears kept vigil. 
Soon I was asleep.
Sometime between when I fell asleep and when I arose seven hours 
later, Mike and his team had gone on duty 75 miles to the west to provide 
overwatch on that Ramadi rooftop for ground operations conducted in the 
streets below.
When I awakened, the sunlight was piercing through the crack under 
the trailer door. I rose, picked up my towel and shaving kit, put on my sun-
glasses, and squinted as I opened the door to enter the blinding daylight and 
hike to the latrine. Already the sun was searing and the air was hot. I cleaned 
up and made my way to the chow hall to have lunch (for “breakfast”) before 
reporting for duty to relieve the chaplain who had been on duty since early 
that morning. I relieved him at the same time every day for months, but I 
cannot recall his name for the life of me.
To the west, in Ramadi, the overwatch was under way. Harassing fire 
had erupted repeatedly throughout the morning. A rocket-propelled gre-
nade struck the building at mid-day, but by 1400, an eerie stillness had de-
scended. Atop the roof, two SEAL snipers lay prone—another, named Mike 
was between them, crouched—there was a fourth SEAL to Mike’s left, about 
fifteen feet away. The air was still, yet the heat made it shimmer. Sand and 
ANONyMOuS MILITARy CHAPLAIN
34
grit imparted coarseness to every surface, including the skin. Streams of 
sweat poured, dripping silently to the blazing deck and evaporating.
Suddenly there was movement below...or was there? The SEALs’ 
breathing slowed, their vigilance piqued. The air hung silent, in expectation 
that all hell might break loose.
It does.
Hurtling across the ledge, a grenade flung from below smacks Mike 
in the chest with a “thunk,” ricocheting to the deck and suspending time. 
Mike’s gaze is riveted to the grenade. Ahead of him to either side are the two 
prone snipers he is protecting. Four feet behind him, the only exit—with a 
lunge backward, he alone can survive—but he doesn’t take it. His instincts 
aroused, he never takes his eyes off the grenade, never pauses, never hesi-
tates. “Grenade!” he shouts, (and a wave of terror surges through my body) 
as his boots make a scraping sound, gaining traction against the grit beneath 
them. Instantly, Mike lunges forward and down to smother the grenade: 
swift, purposeful, precise. A SEAL, who turns to look, sees the options cross 
Mike’s face, but resolutely he rejects all but one. Mike flings himself onto 
the grenade belly first and braces with his forearms and knees to halt its 
roll underneath him. As he exhales the grenade detonates, accelerating time, 
exploding into Mike’s gut, and propelling shrapnel into the SEALs beside 
him. I grimace, jerk away instinctively, turning my back toward the shards 
that embed themselves in everything they reach, including me. Searing heat 
gives way to searing pain and penetrating groans. I turn back and see Mike 
in agony, his blood everywhere, including on me. Horror, rage, fear, and 
grief must all be suppressed to respond in the moment, to do what must be 
done, to try to save Mike, and to fend off the next attack.
The muffled sound of the explosion jolts SEALs nearby and blows a 
hole in the pit of my stomach, though as I said, I was not there. A rescue par-
ty races to the roof and I help them roll Mike off the grenade, his belly ripped 
open. “Mike! you’re gonna be alright, buddy,” I lie to him. “Stick with us 
now. We’re gonna get you out of here.” I hear the chopper blades approach-
ing, their familiar rhythmic thumping reaching a crescendo, and I feel the 
blast of hot air whipping downward underneath the blades, the sting of 
airborne grit pelting my face, arms, and hands. I try to position myself to 
shield Mike from the downwash, but grit covers him. We hoist him onto the 
helicopter, and it surges skyward and tilts in the direction of the battalion 
aid station—he will barely make it there. The rooftop heat shimmers and 
my memory fades. Everything feels surreal, as if what just happened didn’t. 
COSTLy EMPATHy
35
How could it...in this elevated position above the fray, looking down on the 
war? How could what just happened possibly have happened in the way I 
remember it, since I was not there?
Seventy-five miles east, I knew nothing of what had happened. It was 
1405—SEALs’ ears in Ramadi were ringing from the blast. Mike was mede-
vaced as fast as possible, but died by 1440. The prone SEALs, riddled with 
shrapnel, would survive. I learned later that afternoon of the carnage in Ra-
madi, but it was several days before I learned that the incident involved a 
Navy SEAL. Mike was only the second SEAL killed in the war.
When I discovered that he had laid down his life for others on that 
rooftop, I launched a quest to get to know Mike (or “Mikey,” as many called 
him). I would lead a memorial tribute for him just days later. I learned that 
he was asthmatic as a boy and fought to strengthen his lungs by racing his 
siblings in the pool. I learned that he did not make it through BuDS the first 
time due to an injury, but determined, he returned and completed it the sec-
ond time. I learned that this sailor from Garden Grove, California—just over 
sixty miles from where my daughter was born—was the son of a Marine and 
a social worker, a devout Roman Catholic as I had once been, who attended 
Mass each day before leaving the wire—which meant that he went to Mass 
while I was sleeping on the morning of the day he died.
My suspicions roused, I learned that Mike was named after St. Michael 
the Archangel—long revered for his battle with evil—and that Mike gave his 
life on his namesake’s feast day, September 29, as if somehow he fulfilled his 
life’s purpose in doing so. That thought, I am sure, was never in his mind, 
but was it somehow in the mind of God—and if so, why? Why would Mike 
be born to die; why wouldn’t he be born to live?
I never met Mike, never knew him personally, never served with him 
on a mission, but I have never been the same since he died. I have worn a 
St. Michael medal since returning from theater. Finding one was one of my 
first quests after returning home; I found it at a little Catholic gift shop. It de-
picts St. Michael the Archangel subduing a dragon, evil embodied. I pray for 
protection every morning when I put it on. Who knows what horror lurks 
outside the door? “St. Michael, pray for us. Guard and protect us.” I need an 
angel with a sword.
I never met Mike, but I feel close to him in a way that is hard to explain. 
I have lost a friend I never knew. He is part of me now, though he wasn’t 
before. I might have thought myself demented before my wife and I experi-
enced four miscarriages, but somehow each of those children are part of me 
ANONyMOuS MILITARy CHAPLAIN
36
now though they weren’t before, dear to me though I never knew them—so, 
too, is Mike. I led tributes to many like him in theater, and I pray that in the 
communion of saints I will meet them one day. I need to fill the hole inside 
me that their absence has left—Mike, first among them.
I have been gutted by the grenade that took his life, galled at his chance 
execution, horrified at the injustice of a worthy life wasted, a man of char-
acter cut down. I have been struck dumb by the blast, rattled to the core by 
the deathly silence afterward that deadened my heart and my faith—too 
stunned to be angry at God (yet furious), too appalled to try to make sense 
of such senselessness (yet aghast), too torn apart to mend (though I bear no 
outward scar). My faith exploded like that grenade and was blown to bits 
and scattered—and my peace—and my joy. For what? “It doesn’t matter,” I 
tell myself—often. All that matters from that day is that Mike is gone and I 
survived. How, compared to his death, could my suffering matter?
While I carry no scar, the shards of my faith, and the sad remnant of the 
peace I once knew lie like embedded shrapnel just under the surface. The 
pain leaves me numb—and yet...
I was not on that Ramadi rooftop the day that grenade struck Mike in 
the chest and he lay down on it, but I have returned to that rooftop again 
and again. Each time the grenade hurtles across the ledge and smacks me 
in the chest, and like Mike, I fix my gaze on it and never turn away, moving 
steadily down and toward it to shield the others by absorbing its blast. I re-
member the fleeting stillness beforehand, the penetrating silence, the sudden 
intrusion, the muffled blast, the trauma to the gut, and the ringing sound 
that pierced the stillness that followed—and wounded afresh, I feel the void.
“Security is mostly a superstition,” Helen Keller once said. “It does not 
exist in nature, nor do the children of men experience it. Avoiding danger,” 
she added, “is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either 
a daring adventure, or nothing.”
COSTLy EMPATHy


Costly Empathy

Anderson, Herbert

SECTION I: THE SPIRITUALITY FACTOR Editoral Introduction

Table of Contents
 Reflective Practice Continues as an Online Journal ......................................................... 3
 Editorial Policy
 The Editorial Board ..................................................................................................... 4
	 Theme:	SPIRITUALITY	IN	FORmATION	AND	SUPeRVISION
SYMPOSIUM ON MORAL INJURY AND SPIRITUALITY
 Editorial Introduction ................................................................................................. 6
 What Spills Blood Wounds Spirit:
 Chaplains, Spiritual Care, and Operational Stress Injury
 Beth A. Stallinga ................................................................................................ 13
 Costly Empathy
 Anonymous Military Chaplain ....................................................................... 32
 Engaging the Moral Injuries of War: A Call to Spiritual Leaders
 Gabriella Lettini ................................................................................................. 37
 A Korean War Veteran’s Dream
 Mary C. Rorro .................................................................................................... 47
 Morality and Moral Injury: Insights from Theology and Health Science
 Kent D. Drescher, Jason A. Nieuwsma, and Pamela J. Swales ................... 50
 Developing Shame Resilience through Pastoral Supervision
 Mary Q. Browne ................................................................................................ 62
 Revisiting Family Narratives of War through Courageous
 Collaborative Pastoral Conversations
 Larry Kent Graham ........................................................................................... 66
 Notes toward a Neuropsychology of Moral Injury
 Caroline Knowles .............................................................................................. 76
SeCTION I: The SPIRITUALITY FACTOR
 Editorial Introduction ............................................................................................... 79
 Head and Heart: Renewing Spirituality for Ministry Preparation
 Herbert Anderson ............................................................................................. 81
 Relational Spiritual Formation
 Steven J. Sandage and Mary L. Jensen ........................................................... 94
 Recasting “Spiritual but Not Religious” at the End of Life
 James W. Green ................................................................................................ 109
SeCTION II: hOW DOeS YOUR ReLIgIOUS TRADITION
 INFORM YOUR PRACTICe OF SPIRITUAL CARe?
 Editorial Introduction ............................................................................................. 126
 Spiritual Direction with Evangelical Christians
 Susan Phillips................................................................................................... 127
 The Spiritual Formation of a Chaplain: An Islamic Perspective
 Kamal Abu-Shamsieh ..................................................................................... 130
 Spirituality and Spiritual Care: A Buddhist Perspective
 Seigen Yamaoka ............................................................................................... 135
 Jewish Spirituality as Reflected in Jewish Practice
 Goldie Milgram ............................................................................................... 138
 The Spirituality of Connectedness and Care: A Buddhist Perspective
 Nobukatsu Sera ............................................................................................... 143
 A Roman Catholic Spirituality for Spiritual Care Supervision
 Barbara Brumleve............................................................................................ 147
 A Progressive Christian Approach to Spiritual Care
 Carrie Buckner ................................................................................................. 150
SeCTION III: SPIRITUALITY AND PASTORAL COUNSeLINg
 SUPeRvISION
 Editorial Introduction ............................................................................................. 153
 Supervision as Soul Care: A Spirituality of Integrity
 Felicity Kelcourse ............................................................................................ 154
 Co-Pilgrimage and Presence:
 An Eastern Orthodox Perspective for Pastoral Supervision
 David W. Alexander ........................................................................................ 169
 The Metaphor of Wholeness in the Practice and Supervision of Spiritually
 Integrated Psychotherapy: A Case Study
 Monika-Maria Grace ....................................................................................... 181
SeCTION Iv: SPIRITUAL PRACTICeS IN FORMATION
 AND SUPeRvISION
 Editorial Introduction ............................................................................................. 195
 Practitioner as Pilgrim: Pilgrimage and Formation for Ministry
 Martha E. Stortz ............................................................................................... 197
 Do Spiritual Practices and Ascetical Theology Have a Place in
 Clinical Pastoral Education?
 David R. Jenkins .............................................................................................. 210
 An Integrative Model of Spiritual Formation: A Work Always in Process
 Valerie Lesniak................................................................................................. 226
SeCTION v: OUTSIDe The TheMe
 Editorial Introduction ............................................................................................. 234
 Encounters for Change: A Book Review Roundtable
 Peter Yuichi Clark, Dagmar Grefe, and Susan Freeman ............................ 235
 Translating Theological Reflective Practice into Values Based Reflection:
 A Report from Scotland
 Ewan Kelly ....................................................................................................... 245
 Creativity as Prophetic Wellspring
 David Glenister ............................................................................................... 257
ATFe ADDReSS OF The ChAIR, 2013
 From Pasts to Possibilities: Finding our Way as the
 Association for Theological Field Education
 Lorraine Ste-Marie .......................................................................................... 268
ACPe TheORY PAPeR
 Chaos, Mutuality, and Paradox as Pathways to Self-Authorship:
 A Theory of Supervision
 Krister White .................................................................................................... 282
BOOK RevIeWS
 The Soul of Supervision: Integrating Practice and Theory
 by Margaret Benefiel and Geraldine Holton, eds.
 Reviewed by Rod Sunderland ...................................................................... 309
 Personhood and Presence: Self as a Resource for Spiritual and Pastoral Care
 by Ewan Kelly
 Reviewed by Herbert Anderson ................................................................... 311
 Lifelong Learning: Theological Education and Supervision
 by Frances Ward
 Reviewed by Susan Conrad ........................................................................... 312
 Clinical Supervision in the Helping Professions: A Practical Guide
 by Robert Haynes, Gerald Corey, and Patrice Moulton
 Reviewed by Daijaku Judith Kinst. .............................................................. 313
BOOK RevIeWS (CONTINUeD)
 Spiritual Formation as if the Church Mattered: 
 Growing in Christ through Community
 by James C. Wilhoit
 Reviewed by Carson E. Reed ........................................................................ 316
 Dynamic Diversity: Building Class, Age, Race and Gender in the Church
 by Bruce Milne
 Reviewed by Joseph E. Bush, Jr. .................................................................... 317
 Sacred is the Call
 by Suzanne Buckley, The Mercy Center, eds.
 Reviewed by Karla Droste. ............................................................................ 319
 Nourishing the Spirit:
 The Healing Emotions of Wonder, Joy, Compassion and Hope
 by James D. Whitehead and Evelyn Eaton Whitehead
 Reviewed by Scott Sullender ......................................................................... 321
 Spiritual, but not Religious: Understanding Unchurched America
 by Robert C. Fuller
 Reviewed by C. George Fitzgerald ............................................................... 322
 Welcome to Theological Field Education!
 by Matthew Floding, ed.
 Reviewed by Viki Matson .............................................................................. 324
 The Spirit’s Tether: Eight Lives in Ministry
 by Malcolm L. Warford
 Reviewed by William B. Kincaid .................................................................. 325
 Practice Perfect: 42 Rules for Getting Better at Getting Better
 by Doug Lemov, Erica Woolway, and Katie Yezzi
 Reviewed by Scott Sullender ......................................................................... 326
Subscription/Order Form ............................................................................................. 328
Reflective Practice:
Formation and Supervision in Ministry
Continues as an Online Journal for the 4th Year
volume 33 published electronically at http://journals.sfu.ca/rpfs.
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