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Buddhist Chaplaincy Speaker Series: Spiritual Care as Creative Listening: A Buddhist Writer’s Perspective - Chenxing Han

The following talk was given by Chenxing Han at The Sati Center in Redwood City, CA on October 09, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Buddhist Chaplaincy Speaker Series: Spiritual Care as Creative Listening: A Buddhist Writer’s Perspective

Introduction

Jim: Welcome, everyone. We might have a few more folks trickling in, but we'll get started. Welcome to the Sati Center Buddhist Chaplaincy Speaker Series. This is the first one of the new year, so we're excited to be here for a second year and to have you all with us today. It is an especial pleasure to welcome Chenxing Han as our first speaker.

Chenxing Han is the author of Be the Refuge: Raising the Voices of Asian American Buddhists and One Long Listening: A Memoir of Grief, Friendship, and Spiritual Care, as well as numerous articles and book chapters for both academic and mainstream audiences. A frequent speaker and workshop leader at schools, universities, and Buddhist communities across the nation, she has received fellowships from Hedgebrook, the Herrera Foundation, the Lenz Foundation, and the University of Michigan.

Chenxing holds a BA from Stanford University, an MA in Buddhist Studies from the Graduate Theological Union, and a certificate in Buddhist Chaplaincy from the Institute of Buddhist Studies in Berkeley, California. She is a founder of "Listening to the Buddhists in Our Backyard," "May We Gather" (a national Buddhist memorial for Asian American ancestors), and "Roots and Refuge" (an Asian American Buddhist writing retreat). Chenxing also completed the Sati Center Buddhist Chaplaincy program in 2010. Welcome, Chenxing. Thank you for being here.

Chenxing Han: Thank you so much, Jim. I know Vanessa wasn't able to join us today, but I want to thank her for the invitation to speak. As Jim mentioned, I was part of the 2010 cohort for the Sati Center, so I want to thank Gil Fronsdal, Jennifer Block, and Paul Haller as our teachers for that program.

I also must say hello to Reverend Beth Goldring, who is so dear to me. I'm delighted to see her here. She will feature in my presentation because I would not be here if it weren't for Beth and Brahma Vihara¹, and the beautiful chaplains she worked with in Cambodia. I also want to thank all of you for joining from many different geographies and time zones. Undertaking this program is a wonderful endeavor, and it’s delightful to see you all here.

I’ve been asked to speak for about 45 or 50 minutes. I know that's a long time to sit, so please make yourself comfortable. If you need to stretch or have tea, please do so. I’ll have some slides, and feel free to type questions into the chat. I often find it hard to read the chat while doing a PowerPoint, but we can open it up at the end. We have an hour and a half together; the talk will be about an hour, followed by Q&A and informal chatting.

Situating the Perspective

Before I open my slides, I want to situate my perspective. I like to open with the caveat that I am not a "badge-wearing" chaplain anymore; I'm not employed in an official capacity as a chaplain. However, my training in Buddhist chaplaincy deeply informs everything I do as a writer, speaker, and educator. I’ll be presenting from the perspective of one Asian American Buddhist among many.

Part of this talk is inspired by the decade-long process of writing my two books. Be the Refuge began in 2012 as a master's thesis. I interviewed 89 young adults from different Asian and Buddhist backgrounds who were grappling with identity and representation as racial and religious minorities in the US. I was born in China and raised in Pennsylvania and Washington State before spending 16 years in the Bay Area and four years in Cambodia and Thailand with my husband, Trent Walker. We recently moved to Ann Arbor, Michigan.

I was not raised Buddhist, but I began to explore Buddhism after high school. I’ve been steeping in it for 20 years now. I often feel like a "baby Buddhist," but the teachings, practices, and friendships within the many sanghas² I’ve connected with bring me so much joy. I identify as a non-sectarian Buddhist influenced by both Theravada³ and Mahayana⁴ traditions.

My second book, One Long Listening, came out in 2023. It’s a memoir about my education in Buddhist chaplaincy. I believe we need much more creative expression in literature regarding what it feels like to be a spiritual caregiver in training.

Formative Lessons from Cambodia

I want to give a shout-out to Beth Goldring. The first piece on Buddhism I ever published was a reflection on my time with Brahma Vihara, the extraordinary Buddhist chaplaincy program Beth ran in Phnom Penh for many years.

Beth shared a story about how she initially went in with the idea that she would teach meditation to people who were very ill—many with advanced stages of AIDS or multi-drug resistant TB. These were people in hospitals and prisons with few financial means. Brahma Vihara provided spiritual care, but also physical needs like food and medicine.

It quickly became clear that the patients were often too weak to do extensive concentration-based meditation. Beth adapted to the local context. The extraordinary "bodhisattvas in training" who cared for their fellow Buddhists offered chanting—chants for healing, for the end of life, and for after passing. They also offered Reiki⁵, which patients translated simply as "the meditation of the hands." This made the practice inviting and understandable within their theological context.

To me, this was a privilege—not only to learn the art of spiritual care from gifted practitioners but to see what it looks like to translate and adapt. We go into everything with assumptions, but what does it mean to confront those assumptions and change rather than barrel through and impose them? I was also fortunate to encounter chaplaincy in a majority Buddhist context, which is certainly not the case in the West.

Training in the US: Sati Center and SF General

I started my Sati Center training right after Cambodia. My grandmother had become ill, and I was able to be with her in her last few months. I was working multiple part-time jobs and volunteering for hospice while researching programs. I was so grateful to find the Sati Center program led by such revered teachers.

My internship was with Sojourn Chaplaincy⁶ at what was then San Francisco General Hospital. I went in with assumptions: that chaplains have to be very serious or pray during every visit. That setting quickly disabused me of those notions. It was an incredibly diverse patient population. Often, I wasn't speaking the same language as the patients, or the person was in a coma. We had to find non-verbal ways to communicate.

I realized that chaplaincy requires translation even when you speak English; we are translating across culture and lines of difference. Sometimes chaplaincy looks like unsuccessfully attempting to fix a crappy hospital TV and then just commiserating with the patient that it sucks they only get three channels. Sometimes it’s holding a hand; sometimes it’s a hug.

In my Sati Center cohort, I had the privilege of knowing Sandy Chen Stokes, founder of the Chinese American Coalition for Compassionate Care (CACCC). They created wonderful heart-to-heart cards called Aninka⁷. These bilingual cards help families discuss end-of-life values, such as "I don't want to be a burden on my family" or "I want to talk about my spiritual beliefs." They host "cafés" where people rank these cards over tea and food, making a daunting topic communal and even lighthearted.

I also want to acknowledge the Institute of Buddhist Studies (IBS), the oldest Buddhist seminary in the US, founded in 1949 to train Jodo Shinshu⁸ ministers. We cannot understand American Buddhism without appreciating the contributions of Shin Buddhists, who have been on the West Coast and in Hawaii since the 19th century.

Residency, Burnout, and the Etymology of "Chaplain"

After graduating from IBS, I did a year-long Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE)⁹ residency at Alta Bates. I worked on oncology and medical renal units. I learned an incredible amount, but I was extremely burned out by the end of it. I was fortunate to spend a semester afterward in Taiwan at the Dharma Drum Institute of Liberal Arts (DILA).

I went from an interfaith, multicultural Bay Area setting to a space where the majority language was Mandarin, but also Hakka and Hokkien. They asked me to explain chaplaincy in the US. It was a challenge because so many of our terms are inflected through a Christian lens. Even the word "chaplain" has a Christian origin.

I ended up explaining not who I am, but what I do. In Chinese, I used terms like Zongjiao Daoshi (religious teacher), Lingxing Zhichi (spiritual supporter), or Guanhuai (care). I carried the word Guanhuai around with me; "care of the spirit" or "care of the heart and mind."

The word "chaplain" actually relates to the story of the cloak of St. Martin of Tours. In the 4th century, Martin was a soldier who met a beggar in the depth of winter. He used his sword to cut his cloak in two and gave half to the beggar. He then dreamed of Jesus wearing that half-cloak. The cloak became a relic, and the priest who cared for it in its reliquary was called a cappellanus. Eventually, priests serving the military were called capellani, from which the word "chaplain" is derived.

Many chaplains use this metaphor to show how we comfort those we serve: we give others a part of our cloak, but not the entire thing, because it is no use freezing to death ourselves. This is a vital reminder of unwavering self-care.

Diversity and Trends in Asian American Buddhism

I want to zoom out to the broader sociological picture. The Pew Forum recently released a report on Asian American religions. It’s helpful to know general trends. For instance, there is a rising share of people who have no religion but might stay close to a tradition for family and culture.

The term "Asian American" is heavily contested and incredibly diverse. Legislation like the 1924 Asian Exclusion Act and the 1965 Immigration Act deeply influenced these demographics. For example, Korean Americans are much more likely to be Christian than Buddhist due to immigration patterns.

Many Asian American Buddhists don't attend religious services regularly but worship at a home altar or shrine. If we measure religion only by Christian metrics—like "how often do you attend church"—we miss important spiritual dimensions. As chaplains, we can look for cues: mala beads, a small Guanyin¹⁰ statue, or even a request for hot water.

The Breadth of Modern Chaplaincy

Chaplaincy is constantly shifting. We see it in the military (where Buddhist chaplains were officially included in 1990), prisons, sports teams, and even workplaces like Tyson Foods. There is also a growing interest in Buddhist Eco-Chaplaincy to support those facing despair and fear around climate change.

I learned so much about the collaborative nature of this work from my supervisors: Reverend Carrie Buckner, Reverend Vanisha Rayford, and Laura Crawley. I also learned from a chaplain we called "the Mayor of the hospital," Stevie.

Stevie taught us about "viewings"—when a family sees the body of a loved one. He told a story about running between tasks while holding a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in one hand and arranging the deceased's room with the other. He wasn't being disrespectful; he realized he couldn't help the family if he wasn't nourished himself. Half the cloak, remember?

Stevie also started a clothing closet for unhoused patients so they wouldn't have to leave the hospital in just a gown. This, too, is spiritual care—supporting dignity. Similarly, in the hospital, I found myself doing "simple" spiritual care like microwaving water for patients who preferred it hot. These intimate, quiet moments of attunement are the heart of the work.

Rituals and Parables: The Mustard Seed and the Monk

Buddhism offers so many resources for chaplaincy: prayer, meditation, chanting, and ritual. I think of the Shinnyo-en Lantern Floating Festival in Hawaii, where tens of thousands gather. Ritual is powerful in times of grief.

We often point to the Buddha himself as a chaplain. Consider the parable of Kisa Gotami and the mustard seed. Kisa Gotami was deranged with grief after her young son died. She asked the Buddha for medicine to revive him. He told her to find a handful of mustard seed from a house that had never experienced death. She went from house to house and realized she was not alone in her suffering; every household had lost someone. This realization opened the door to her liberation.

There is also the story of the monk with dysentery. His fellow monks did not want to care for him, so the Buddha himself tended to the monk despite the bodily fluids. He scolded the other monks, saying, "If you don't tend to one another, who will tend to you?"

And I love the depictions of the Buddha’s Parinirvana¹¹, where Ananda, his closest attendant, is shown weeping. It’s a reminder that Buddhism isn't just about being "detached" or serious; there is a vital place for emotions. Difficult emotions can be the door to connection and liberation. As Thich Nhat Hanh said, "No mud, no lotus." The difficulties of our lives provide the nutrients for our awakening.

Conclusion: Creative Listening

I want to end with a project called "Listening to the Buddhists in Our Backyard," which I co-founded with Andy Housiaux. For three years in Massachusetts, we took students to visit local Thai, Lao, Cambodian, Vietnamese, and Chinese temples.

The students could have learned about Buddhism from a textbook, but instead, they learned by listening. We realized that the students—and we as teachers—were receiving spiritual care from these communities. The best way to learn is often just to listen and attune to who is actually here in our backyard.

I wouldn't have written my books if my supervisors hadn't said to me, "Chaplaincy needs writers, too." At the time, I felt like a "failed" writer and a "failed" chaplain because I wasn't going into a full-time professional position. That simple phrase helped me stop seeing things dualistically. Each of you has unique gifts. There are as many ways to do chaplaincy as there are chaplains.

I hope this inspires you to think about translation—moving between cultures and being comfortable with the "untranslatable." I wish for all of you a long-term practice of cultivating ease and curiosity in yourselves and in those you encounter. Thank you for your kind and attentive listening. [Laughter]