Jim Moore: Chaplain stands in sacred space

Take a look at your hands.

"Our hands are a gift. Our hands are an extension of who we are and allow us to do so much for others. Our hands allow us to administer medication, they type notes, they lift equipment, they shuffle papers, and they hold phones and they hold hands, they clean and they feed," Chaplain Jim Moore says.

Our hands allow us to care for others and to share with others the depth of our compassion, he tells fellow Circle of Life staff in a June of 2020 video message. A couple of times a year, the chaplain performs a "blessing of the hands" for workers at the Northwest Arkansas nonprofit hospice provider. In 2020, the blessing took place virtually.

"They hold the power to communicate, with just a simple touch, that someone's not alone," Moore says. "Here at Circle of Life, it takes many of us doing many different things to meet the one goal of caring for people at the most sacred time of our their lives."

Moore truly loves and understands his role in this sacred space, his coworkers and friends say.

He is present in those hard moments and has a heart to serve. Thoughtful, uplifting and full of grace, Moore makes both the patients and staff feel comfortable and comforted, says Allison Wright, hospice bereavement and spiritual care manager.

Spiritual guidance, along with the medical care and counseling available, is an important part of hospice care for patients and their families.

"Are they at peace with God? Themselves and others?" Moore says. "I can't do that for them. We can be there with them and walk with them as they make sense of it all."

Moore is one of five Circle of Life chaplains, who together cover four counties. He serves as inpatient chaplain at the two hospice facilities but also sees some patients in their homes, where most stay for end-of-life care. He spends a significant amount of times with families because this is a difficult time for them, he says.

Like Moore, those who become hospice chaplains have often worked as pastors, but he makes clear the distinction between his two jobs.

"The difference between a preacher and a chaplain is preachers are taught to talk; chaplains are taught to listen," he says. "My job is to be spiritual support for people no matter what their faith background is or even if they don't have a faith background. My job is to meet the patient and the family where they are. It's not about me. We're going to talk about what they want to talk about. We want to give them the safe space to do that. We want them to find peace."

After completing a two-year clinical pastoral education program, Moore saw that Circle of Life needed a part-time chaplain, a job which soon turned into full time. That was over eight years ago.

"I was happy being a church pastor. I just wanted to do some self-work, self-discovery; CPE is part of that," he says. "I'd gotten so invested [in hospice care] and felt like this is what I was called to do. ... I stand in sacred space every day, and it really feeds me. Sometimes I have to stop and pinch myself, like 'who gets to do this?' and I do."

Moore has followed this type of calling throughout his life and its different turns.

A Utility Player

Most of us possess different titles but some embody more than others. Husband, father of three, hospice chaplain, pastor, coach, published author and golfer are just a handful of the descriptions that can be attributed to Moore.

And a stats junkie, his wife Carol Moore adds.

Jim Moore is the youngest with three older sisters. His father -- a Vietnam veteran -- retired from the military when Moore was 11 years old. He was born in Korea, but being only around 2 years old when they moved, he considers Austin, Texas, his hometown. He loved growing up there, and Northwest Arkansas, where he's lived for around 22 years, reminds him of home, he says.

Growing up, his family went to church, but Moore says he was the weird one: He liked it.

Moore's father was a microbiologist and direct of food and nutrition for the state of Texas. He was a smart man, but Moore says when your dad was a colonel, everyone was a soldier. However, they found a way to connect through sports, often going to games and playing golf together.

Moore had dreams of being a professional golfer and received a golf scholarship from Schreiner University, a private Presbyterian school in Kerrville, Texas. Like his father, though, Moore graduated from Texas A&M. He realized he didn't want to go pro and earned his degree in agriculture with the goal of becoming a golf course superintendent.

"Then, something grabbed his mind, and he decided on ministry," says Carol, who was then his girlfriend after a blind date gone right.

After earning his undergraduate degree, Moore went straight to Texas Christian University for seminary. He has been in the ministry his entire adult life, though at first he wanted to be a missionary.

"I like to say 'faith informs my life'. I don't know I wanted to be in church work. ... I wanted to go to the far-reaches of the world and help teach people how to farm," he says. Then he got married and started having children. "Life took me another direction. I have no regrets. I feel very fortunate and blessed."

His Own Path

Being "little Jimmy," Moore says he felt the need to move out of Texas and his father's shadow.

The family moved to Oklahoma and eventually to Rogers for Moore to pastor a fledgling church.

Carol describes Moore at the time as ambitious and energetic with an "I can accomplish anything" attitude and still having a reddish brown color to his hair. Their children were 2, 6 and 8 years old at the time. She says they were a bit "young and stupid," but they found a good support system when they moved to Northwest Arkansas.

In the fall of 1999, Moore was walking door to door in a Rogers neighborhood inviting people to First Christian Church, which was then holding services at an elementary school. When Kent Shelor tried and failed to hurry his family into the car that day, he didn't yet realize he was about to meet a life-long friend, he says.

Shelor says Moore has a unique vision and very deliberately cut down any barriers like a dress code or making people feel like they had to give money.

"He's a genuinely nice guy and a great human being," says Shelor, who went on to serve as a church moderator. "He believes actions are more important than words, and I don't know if I've ever heard a harsh word from him."

As the church grew, Moore never hesitated to do whatever was needed. He got his bus driver's license so he could drive children to and from the church's after-school program, which had around 150 children before the pandemic. With a mission to serve, he's led members to spend time volunteering in the community.

Church members and friends like Shelor say it's refreshing to have a pastor who seems just like everyone else. Throughout the years, Moore has coached kids on local sports teams and was a passionate coach, who loved all 12 years of it. A decade ago, he even wrote a book on the subject called "The Coaches Motivational Playbook" with the help of a friend from Dallas who is a corporate team builder. The book was for coaches of high school age and younger children.

"It's the same as being a pastor and chaplain; it's just understanding people. We broke it down into four different player personality types. They're not all going to respond the same," Moore says. "It was kind of a bucket list deal."

The book got around, and the authors traveled the country to different coaching clinics.

Coaching was also a way to spend time with his own kids.

"He always felt like, 'I don't want to miss that part of my kids' life'," Carol says. "He's a fanatic with sports and determined we were going to do those things as a family."

His two sons played almost every sport while their daughter preferred band, but she can talk football with the best of them, Carol says.

Whether it's a Super Bowl party or going to the grandparents and visiting with all the cousins, in the Moore family, it's important to spend time together, "and we have a great time," Carol and her husband both say.

Their dinner table conversation can sometimes resemble a talking heads sports broadcast.

"Jim can quote stats," Carol says. "Our youngest son started quizzing him the other night -- top 10 college quarterbacks of all time -- which turned into a 30-minute discussion going back to so and so from the 1930s. He knows all that stuff."

"I know way too much and have way too many things in my head," Moore jokes.

All the kids and their father still play golf when they're all in town, and Moore tries to make it for a few holes with friends when he can. However, being a chaplain and pastor don't often leave much time open on the weekends.

Stop Asking 'Why'

A friend awoke at 2 a.m. very sick and struggling to breathe. He texted Moore.

"He goes, 'I'll be there in 5 minutes,' and he sat with me all night," says Patrick Byrd, who learned he was anemic. "Jim is a great friend. Everybody has story likes that. He doesn't brag about it. He is so selfless. He inspires people, like Mr. Rogers. You're just glad to be around him."

As part of his work, Moore officiates funerals.

"He always goes out of his way to get to know those families, and you'd think he'd known the deceased for 20 years," Shelor says. "That's the kind of guy he is. He thinks 'who is this person? What do his friends want to hear?' You never leave without laughing, and he boils messages down to their simplest form. He's terrific."

Hospice workers are taught to maintain a non-anxious presence and the slowest heartbeat in the room. When working with patients and families, chaplains and social workers can take a team approach.

"He is the most approachable human being," says Karen Grumme-Rodriguez, a licensed bereavement counselor who works alongside Moore. "His presence is so positive, but there's also an underlying sense of humor."

The two share an office wall and have a habit of saying "goodnight" at the end of the day in reference to "The Waltons" television show. She says she sees how devoted Moore is to the patients, staff, his family and his church.

While he did not become a full-time missionary, Moore has led trips to places like Cuba, Mexico and Ecuador. They have taken multiple cultural immersion trips to the Chota Valley region in northwestern Ecuador. The village residents have African heritage and are thought to be descendants of people who escaped from wrecked colonial slave ships.

Moore says they go to learn what their lives are like and to invest in them, not necessarily "teach" them.

"They don't have much material things but have a lot of joy. The kids don't have our toys, but they make their own toys and kites," he says. "Even though these folks don't have the things we have, they experience everything we experience. It's kind of neat to watch that and understand that life is life whether you have all these things around you or not.

"You realize what's important in life. And we take people with us and hope they realize that we're all in this together and where you are is just an accident of birth."

Moore says he used to question why he had so much and such a wonderful family.

"Finally, I had to stop asking 'why.' 'Why' is not the question. It's 'what,'" he says. "For whatever the reason, I was born into a good situation. I have to ask, 'What am I going to do with it?'"

He relates this back to the Scripture Luke 12:48: "To whom much is given, much will be required."

Through his missionary and chaplain work, Moore has learned to check any of his personal views and cultural biases at the door. His wife says she thinks growing up in a military family also contributed to his love of different cultures.

Even from a hospice room, Moore says he gets to hear stories about other countries from immigrants, the history of Northwest Arkansas from those who lived it, accounts of the Holocaust from survivors. He says he takes any life advice they offer to heart.

"Everyone's greatest joy and grief have revolved around relationships," Moore says. "I love the people I work with and work that I get to do. It gives you the perspective to not let the little things eat you up. I've been blessed to learn that from patients."