{'fraction_non_alphanumeric': 0.022132796780684104, 'fraction_numerical': 0.0053655264922870555, 'mean_word_length': 4.874015748031496, 'pattern_counts': {'":': 0, '<': 0, '<?xml version=': 0, '>': 0, 'https://': 0, 'lorem ipsum': 0, 'www.': 0, 'xml': 0}, 'pii_count': 0, 'substrings_counts': 0, 'word_list_counts': {'cursed_substrings.json': 1, 'profanity_word_list.json': 0, 'sexual_word_list.json': 0, 'zh_pornsignals.json': 0}}
Developing multi-faith chaplaincy

For spirit’s sake ...

To be human, one has a spirit. That this spirit is named and nurtured in multiple ways around the globe does not detract from the fact that it exists at the core of each and every being.1 So how, in modern day medical practice is this essential aspect of health catered for, for the children and their families from non-Christian faiths?

Ever since the inception of the NHS, hospital authorities have attempted to “provide” for the spiritual needs of patients and staff. Almost every hospital in Britain boasts a chapel and during the past 50 years over 400 hospital chaplains have been appointed. In pluralist societies, it is however essential that the spiritual needs of all faith communities are identified and met.2 Regrettably, this has not been the case with respect to many of the estimated three million Britons, or the one in ten children subscribing to non-Christian minority faith and ethnic communities.3

Acculturation—the process by which minority cultures gradually adopt the values and ethos of the majority culture—has for many families resulted in the erosion of traditional support networks. Such lay alliances have hitherto often been crucial buffers during times of illness, turmoil, and grief. And minority communities have, as has repeatedly been shown by government reports on health inequalities, more than their fair share of morbidity and mortality, starting from the neonatal period and extending over …