I want to invite you into a conversation around faith issues.  So to kick things off let me share a reflection that originally went out to members of Luther Memorial congregation.  How have you been blessed or cursed by the church and its members?

"The truth is that each of us is necessarily either blessing or curse to those around us.  How much better—both for them and for ourselves—to be a conscious blessing to another than a burden on the way."                                                 —Joan Chittister, Listen with the Heart—

As I read the above quotation during my morning devotions last week, I remembered an incident which occurred during the summer I spent in Clinical Pastoral Education.  As part of my seminary training I served as the chaplain to several floors in a large general hospital.  I visited patients, spent periodic nights on call for emergencies, and supported the nursing staff in whatever ways I could.   

To tell you the truth I do not remember the exact circumstances; I just remember the nurse's words.  We were sitting in a nurse's station on the orthopedic floor when she looked earnestly into my face and said, "Pastor King, I believe in you; I really believe in you."  My immediate reaction was to be dumbfounded—and then to be consumed by terror.  I really did not want that kind of power and trust given to me.  I was just a callow young fool who was making it up as he went along.

Part of clinical education is debriefing critical incidents with your supervisor and I could hardly wait to bring this one into Len's office.  Len nodded as I explained what had happened and how I felt about it; then he said, "Bill, you don't have a choice.  Whether you like it or not you have the power to bless and the power to curse.  It comes with the turf."

Since then I have learned the truth of Len's words.  Few are the people who listen to a pastor unquestioningly, but we who occupy the office of pastor do have wisdom and power imputed to us far beyond what we deserve.  I hope knowing that means I weigh my words carefully, whether speaking from the pulpit or to a wounded soul sitting on the sofa in my office.  Yet Joan Chittister points out something much more important:  Every single one of us, not just clergy, has the power to bless and curse in ways we can scarcely imagine.

• A little child will remember whether or not you called him "stupid" the next time he is faced with a daunting challenge, and your blessing or curse may make all the difference in whether he succeeds or fails. 
• Your patience—or lack thereof—may be the critical factor in whether a co-worker who is struggling through divorce dares to expose her pain and begins to heal. 
• The telephone call which is just one among many things on your "to do" list may be the lifeline which gets a deeply depressed friend through one more day. 

We simply have no idea how much power we have, how often another is waiting with bated breath to hear whether we will speak blessing or curse, whether we will ease the burden or add  more weight to the load.  Does that scare you?  Good, it ought to.  Unacknowledged power wielded in irresponsible ignorance causes a lot suffering.  Yet don't let knowledge of your latent power paralyze you; rather, let it prompt you to speak wisely and act gently.  Someone you will meet today needs your blessing.  Give it.