Hal Paulson

1947-2003

Hal was born July 23, 1947 in Ponoka. He was of Norwegian descent, his father having come to Canada as a boy of 9 yrs. He has one older sister Fern, and two younger brothers, Glen and John. He was raised as a Protestant in the Lutheran church and remained with this faith group all his life. He received his BA Ed degree Oct 13, 1967 from the University of Saskatchewan, and got his diploma for heavy duty mechanics in 1968 at SAIT.  In the early 1970s he worked the family cattle farm in Ponoka. He attended Lutheran Seminary in SASK and received his M.Div on May 12, 1978 and was Ordained in Swift Current that same year. His first parish call was to St. Ansgar Lutheran church in London Ontario, which he held for five years.  He started in the CPE Residency program at the University Hospital in London, Ont. in Sept of 1983 and graduated from it in June of 1985. In Jan of 1991 he received his certification as Supervisor of Clinical Pastoral Education.  Hal supervised many students in London, Ontario, and Edmonton, Alberta, with wisdom, insight, respect, knowledge, sensitivity and passion.  He also served on many CAPPE committees: Advanced, Specialist, Provisional, Teaching Supervisor, Site Accreditation with the same qualities being part of his reflections.  After many CPE and PCE classes he got his Specialist in Pastoral Counselling Ed in Feb of 1996.  In Nov of 1998 he received a Letter of Call to Peace Lutheran church Leduc AB and filled that position for one year.  In the fall of 1999 he became the Chaplain and Pastoral Educator at the Rosehaven facility in Camrose and remained there until his death in March14, 2003.  Just before his death he received a five year Site Visit Accreditation in Feb 2003.

 
He married Sandra Sayer on Aug 11, 1976, and had three children, Siri, Kim, and Mikkel. He married Patricia Lodberg on June 14, 1997 and acquired three step children, Jamie, Laura, & Angela.
 

Hal was a practical, low key, no-fuss person with a profound depth and awareness.  He knew the meaning of grief and inner growth. Hal was a man of faith living with a reverence for life, respect for others, and respect for the earth. His garden gave him much pleasure, as did riding his bike with friends or 150 km MS Bike Tour.  He was a strong advocate for justice and environmental issues. He continues to be missed as a teacher, mentor, and friend.  Adele Roy 

In all the capacities I knew Hal he was always the same -- gentle, confident, and inclusive. We co-facilitated a support group for men with violent behaviour. The whole time Hal used the words us, we, and ours when speaking with the group. It was never "your violent behaviour" or "your anger." Hal was inclusive and by doing so included us all in the struggles we have. The guys picked up on this. On the final day one man commented how non-judged he felt which influenced him to be as honest as he could. To be with Hal and his natural inclusivity was a healing encounter every time. He will be missed. His healing ways, however, will live on as we continue to exercise what we learned from Hal. Carmen Person

I have a picture of Hal on the bulletin board beside my desk -- actually a picture of the 1984-85 residents in the Pastoral Counselling Education Program of the Pastoral Institute of Edmonton. All of the men in the picture had a lot more hair back then than we do now. Hal cared for our clients and learned a great deal about being a pastoral counsellor as he engaged in, and reflected on, that ministry and as he explored the pastoral counselling literature. Over the years, we have spent significant time together in differing roles, most recently when I was part of the Accreditation Site Visit Team at Bethany Care Centre in Camrose (and was very proud of the work Hal had done to develop the CPE program there). Most of all, however, those contacts in varying CAPPE/ACPEP roles gave me the opportunity to grow in my appreciation of Hal as a wise and caring person. John C. Carr

Hal was the teaching supervisor of my first two basic units of CPE more than fifteen years ago. Later he was a friend that I met for coffee and cycled with on occasion. Hal died from stomach cancer on March 14, 2003. I remember how astonishingly painful it was for me to see his bicycle helmet on the table at the reception following his funeral. In the years since, I have had fleeting thoughts of Hal, but they are good and warm thoughts of a quiet and unassuming man with a twinkle in his eye and a great sense of humour; a patient and soft spoken supervisor who spoke the truth in love but whose fierce gentleness could make you quiver in your boots; a man who was unafraid to show his emotions or articulate them; a loyal friend; a man who loved his children passionately. Yesterday I ran into a male friend of Hal’s who said, “I still miss him.” Many people still miss Hal, I suspect. In an article for the ARCAPPE newsletter in April 2003, I wrote that in spite of the fact that the major part of my studies and work was in bereavement, I learned a lot about grief during the week of March 14, 2003. Looking around at all the people at Hal’s funeral, I had been struck by the fact that each of us was there because we had a relationship, with Hal. However, the stories of each of our lives entangled with the stories of his life in many different ways. I was made aware of the loneliness and sense of isolation that comes with that. Not only do no two people grieve alike, but no one, I felt, could know or understand how bereft I was. The student-supervisor relationship would fit into what many grief experts categorize as “disenfranchised grief”.  How recognized and acknowledged is the grief of a friend for a friend?

A vivid memory I have is my first "aha" moment about what it is to be a chaplain. I visited a woman who had just recently received the prognosis that she had approximately 6 months to live. She began to tell me the story of her life and the many losses she had already endured, including the death of her only son. I was very moved by her story. As I sat on the edge of her bed I cried my own tears with her. I was rather embarrassed to tell Hal during supervision that I had done this. I thought at the time that it wasn't very professional to cry on the job! I also mentioned to him that I thought it was sad that this woman had said that, considering all the bad things that had happened in her life, she didn't know if there was a God. "Oh, she knows God," Hal said. Confused at first, and wondering how he could know that this woman knew God, I asked, "Do you know this woman?" "No," he said. "But I do know that God was sitting on the bed beside her and crying with her." I was awestruck. That was my first realization that as a chaplain others could know the love and compassion of God through me.

I remember how Hal loved Ted Loder’s book of prayers called Guerrillas of Grace. “Certainly Jesus was the preeminent guerrilla of grace,” writes Loder. “He confronted repressive institutions and liberated captive minds and hearts with his words and life.” These words capture beautifully my memories and image of Hal Paulson. He, too, was a guerrilla of grace, certainly a human being who will never be forgotten.  Janet Greidanus