NPLC.org - National Patoral Life CenterNPLC BlogsNPLC EventsNPLC Pastoral ServicesThe ROUNDTABLECPPCDCommon GroundAbout NPLCNPLC PublicationsNPLC Store
 
CHURCH Magazine
UP FRONTCenter SectionParish BulletinIn PrintA Different KeySubscriptionsMedia KitContact
 

 

NEWS & VIEWS
Amen: Healthy Hospitality

by Liz O'Connor

Liz O'ConnorI am planning to have some elective surgery, and in the run-up to that, I’ve been getting the equivalent of an executive physical. However, instead of going to a boutique medical facility for a day of tests and exams, I’m scheduling doctor visits and tests at various times in various offices. It’s nice to know that I’m so healthy stem to stern; in addition, interacting with so many different aspects of the healthcare system is an experience.

I once covered a workshop on how to avoid malpractice suits. One of the presenter’s pieces of advice was that doctors should find and hire the most professional and personable office staffs they could find, and should treat those people very, very well so that they stay upbeat and helpful to the patients. His thesis was that interaction with the office staff is an important part of the patient’s experience with the doctor—and patients who have kindly feelings toward the doctor and his staff are much less likely to sue.

In the many years that have passed since then, I’ve often thought about that good advice. Some of the people who work in medical offices and facilities seem caring and eager to help patients. I notice them and try to express my appreciation; they make me expect to like the doctors they work for. Others brusquely instruct the patient to fill out a sheaf of papers, often requiring printing the same information several times, and answer any questions with, “Just have a seat in the waiting room until you’re called.”

Then there are the gatekeepers—my name for them is “dragon ladies” although they are occasionally male—who seem to see their role as protecting doctors from their patients. After you get through the phone maze (“If this is a doctor or hospital, press 2; if you are calling for a referral, press 8…”) and get to speak with them, they make it as difficult as possible to make appointments or arrange routine medication refills, and they never, ever, want you to be able to have a telephone conversation with the physician. Maybe they’re acting on instructions from their employers, but I often imagine that they’re making themselves feel important by exercising power.

I don’t visit as many rectories or parish offices as I did when I was a reporter, but I’ve seen and heard that sometimes some of the same dynamics are in place. I hear stories of people who call to request the sacrament of the sick or to ask that Communion be brought to an ailing relative and are put off by secretaries who seem to want to know only if they are registered and using their envelopes. The same stories circulate about young people planning weddings and parents seeking baptism for their children.

I know that in these days of one-priest parishes, parish life directors, and pastors handling multiple parishes, people can’t and shouldn’t expect to be able to whistle up a priest at any time of the day or night. And I understand that pastors want to know that couples have some level of commitment to the church and even to the parish before they agree to celebrate sacraments with them. I don’t expect my doctor to drop everything and take my phone call, either. But as in the doctor’s office, a lot of things pivot on manner and tone.

Parish secretaries and receptionists are on the front line of parish ministry, whether they’re dealing with someone who wants a Mass card, helping someone register, answering wacky questions, or telling people about required preparation for a baptism. Theirs is a delicate and important task; they present the face of the parish both to active parishioners and to the drop-ins who may just arrive at a teachable moment. If they are excellent, their worth is above rubies, and they should be cherished, appreciated, affirmed, and encouraged at every opportunity. If they are less than excellent, they deserve remediation, some attitude adjustment, some help in recognizing how important they are (not self-important, but really important).

Maybe they’re overworked and just need help. Maybe they’re in the wrong job and would do better and be happier without receptionist’s duties. Situations can be sticky and difficult. I’m not advocating firing even a dragon lady who’s been doing her job as she thought she was supposed to; I’m advocating helping such a person see the job through a different lens.

I’ve watched doctors’ dragon ladies transform into warm, welcoming, helpful employees. Facilitating that process takes some work and some finesse, but it pays off—and the upside for a parish is even better than not getting sued.

Liz O’Connor is the editor of CHURCH magazine.

 
     

CHURCH