I don't when some couples seek 'I do'

BY NORRIS BURKES
FLORIDA TODAY

This is the time of year when many couples decide to get married. When they do, they often call a member of the clergy.

This week, as I was sharing some of the more -- shall we say -- wedding requests I've received, someone suggested that I write them in a column.

"OK," I said. "The column might seem a bit random, but I have no shortage of random thoughts."

At the outset, let me say most ministers I know would rather do a funeral than a wedding. I know that may sound like an odd preference, but there are two reasons for this.

First, the personality of most ministers isn't well suited for the pageantry details of a wedding. However, clergy often do exceptionally well with the pastoral care required at a funeral.

Second, wedding participants are very particular about details; funeral participants have simple requirements, such as good empathy and a caring presence. That's not too hard for most pastors. But, at a wedding, if I so much as mispronounce a middle name, my name is mud.

For those reasons, planning starts with premarital counseling. The first question often is about the honorarium. Because of a few memorable moments I've had in the past, I require payment in advance.

Two incidents inspired this requirement. Once, a groom stopped our march toward the altar, exclaiming, "Wait!" He then extended a $100 dollar bill toward my face, saying, "Here ya go, Bud!"

Another time, a bride summoned me to her dressing room, where she met me in the doorway in her slip and push-up bra. She positioned her checkbook on the doorjamb and insisted I accept her check that instant.

During our premarital session, I always try to clarify a few rules. One year after rousing a drunken groom at his home wedding, I added the rule, "No alcohol before the wedding." One "smart" couple brought their keg to the church parking lot -- presumably to drink after the wedding.

There are times when premarital counseling has concluded with me declining the wedding.

For instance, one couple wanted to know if it would be a deal-breaker if they left out the till-death-do-part concept. A second couple wanted to change the phrase to, "Until love do us part." Both were deal-breakers.

One of my most memorable deal-breaking moments was when a military couple requested that I avoid mentioning God because the bride's friends would be offended.

I wanted to ask them if they had noticed the sign "chaplain" over the door.

When pressed, she finally admitted she and her friends were witches. She had been reluctant to come to the chaplain, but her fiance told her that military chaplains don't charge for weddings done on duty.

She understood why I couldn't do the wedding, but the groom was a bit angry.

It took the intervention of the good witch to sway the argument.

"Dear, don't you understand? We would be hypocrites if we promised something we don't believe. Furthermore, the chaplain would be a hypocrite for leading us to promise something he knew that we did not believe."

I was stunned -- under her spell, as a matter of fact. I have quoted her words of wisdom to nearly every engaged couple who has come to my office.

Finally, my funniest story took place a few weeks after my own wedding, when Becky and I were forced to re-enact our ceremony. It seems that every single picture the photographer took of us as a couple failed to develop properly.

Gratefully, after 29 years of marriage this month, we have. Happy anniversary, sweetheart.

Burkes is a former civilian hospital chaplain and an Air National Guard chaplain. Write norris@thechaplain.net or visit www.thechaplain.net.

Chaplain's Iraq order brings 2nd thoughts

Chaplain's Iraq order brings 2nd thoughts

Let deployment pass by, he prays

I have anxiously anticipated them for months, and they finally arrived a few weeks ago: my deployment orders.

The orders direct me to leave home the day after Christmas to go to Balad Air Base in Iraq and serve as its hospital chaplain for the next 120 days.

With the orders came the inevitable feeling of "What have I done?"

I think I'm in good company asking the question. Jesus expressed a related thought in the Garden of Gethsemane when he prayed, "If it be your will, may this cup pass from me."

Unlike Jesus, I don't have any notions of bringing salvation. In fact, I don't mind telling you that since receiving the orders, I've prayed a paraphrased version of the Gethsemane prayer numerous times: "If it be your will, God, let these orders be canceled."

Some folks have asked me, "If you feel that way, then why did you volunteer?"

In giving my answer, I tell them what I've learned about a soldier's struggle to serve. The lessons learned came from something called a deployment line.

The deployment line is the place most of us will go on our way to a combat zone. The line is a one-stop shop consisting of rows of desks, each manned by someone who will check our immunizations, wills, dog tags, medical or dental issues and even personal problems.

Initially, the talk in the lines is light. You overhear good-natured complaints about the upcoming flights, haircuts or the bulging weight of our duffel bags.
Still, I've seen the serious moments. Those moments usually come near the table labeled "Dependent Care," where I'll often see a husband and a wife seeking approval of a child care plan that leaves their children with friends.

At the legal table, I've seen single soldiers produce wills that leave their possessions to parents. A power of attorney also is submitted so Dad will be able to make the necessary health care decisions should the soldier come home incapacitated.

Adjacent to that table, an airman verifies her address so Casualty Notification Teams can properly notify her family if she is wounded, dead or missing.

At the last table, there is usually a chaplain like myself offering camouflaged Bibles and other reading material. Eyes moisten and faces harden as the chaplain asks, "Sergeant, is there anything that would prevent you from going on this deployment?"

The question is asked because not everyone snaps a proverbial salute at the receipt of his or her orders. It is possible that some are feeling a conscientious objection to this action. Others may feel depressed or feel that they may even be a danger to themselves or others.

Gethsemane prayers aside, 99 percent of us are ready to go. Some of us feel fate at work. Others talk about patriotism, while others feel a larger force outside themselves that moved them to this point.

Yet, despite our philosophizing, there are still tons of stuff beneath our camouflaged exterior. We are leaving families, homes and jobs. Our psyche is often a mixing bowl for fear, pride and bravado.

This is our Gethsemane moment. We pause with only a fleeting thought as we proceed to "drink from the cup" that our leaders have given us, whether we agree or not.

And, for most of us, it will be this willingness to drink from the cup that will harden our resolve to both win this fight and to come home to those we love.

Burkes is a former civilian hospital chaplain and an Air National Guard chaplain. Write norris@thechaplain.net or visit www.thechaplain.net.

Here are last two articles

Dear Readers,


I'm off to Iraq 26 December. I hope to still be emailing the column.

Blessings!


It's the season to give -- of yourself
6 Dec 08

By the time I was 13, our Christmas became more about a way to dole out necessities such as socks, underwear and pajamas than about surprises.

By my mid-teens, our family stopped buying Christmas trees. Giving was limited to the exchange of single gifts of necessity on Christmas Eve.

Since many of my childhood Christmases were likely celebrated a little above poverty level, my wife says I shouldn't mention them in a holiday column. She remembers a different kind of Christmas. While her family wasn't affluent, her parents - a minister and a schoolteacher - surrounded her and her siblings with multiple packages wrapped in fluffy bows.

I wasn't there during her childhood, but I know what her Christmases looked like because she's brought them into our family tradition.

For the past 25 Christmases, our combined families bring a boatload of gifts to the Christmas tree. Traditionally, the person opening the gift is obliged to note the beauty of the paper and comment on the mystery of the contents.

Once unwrapped, bows, paper and ribbons are placed in their respective recycle bins. The whole event can be such a gift-opening marathon that sometimes we've actually scheduled a break for lunch and a nap.

It's not really such an overabundance - it's just that her family appreciates the color and wrapping of Christmas so much that they wrap every item individually. Say, for instance, a grandchild is given a remote-control car. Normally, my mother-in-law will wrap the car, the batteries and the remote control in three separate boxes.

While my wife says my childhood Christmases sound a bit deprived, I don't remember them that way. In fact, the recession we find ourselves in has caused me to more deeply cherish the most meaningful gift my father passed to me - faith.

It was a faith recounted many times during our frugal Christmases as my dad read and reread the story of the frightened village girl who heard the news of her pending pregnancy from an angel.

I love how "The Message" translates that moment from the first chapter of Luke's gospel.

"God sent the angel Gabriel to the Galilean village of Nazareth to a virgin ... Gabriel greeted her:

"'Good morning!

"'You're beautiful with God's beauty,

"'Beautiful inside and out!'

"'God be with you.

"She was thoroughly shaken, wondering what was behind a greeting like that. But the angel assured her, 'Mary, you have nothing to fear. God has a surprise for you: You will become pregnant and give birth to a son and call his name Jesus.' "

The simple story has a way of reminding us all that the reason for the season isn't so much about receiving gifts as it is about the giving of ourselves.

For if you celebrate the Christmas story in its full meaning, you are obligated to follow it through to its finale of giving, Easter. For it isn't until Easter that we can see the original Christmas gift wasn't gold, frankincense and myrrh but the sacrificial gift of God himself.

So while this Christmas you may not be able to afford the latest game console or the largest diamond, we may want to consider the ways in which we might give of ourselves in sacrificial ways.

Oh, by the way, when I was 10, we stopped doing Halloween, but I'll spare you that sad, sad story. After all, it is the season to be jolly.


December 13, 2008


Know what motivates you to give


If you haven't finished your Christmas list yet, you might consult another list written by Moses. No, not that Moses. This Moses was a Rabbi from the 13th century, Moses Maimonides.

His list -- Maimonides' Eight Degrees of Charity -- describes eight levels that motivate our giving to those in need. Read the paraphrased list below along with my comments and ask yourself which one best describes your motives.

1. Giving to the poor unwillingly.

This is what a Tibetan Buddhist named Trungpa Rinpoche called "Idiot compassion." It's the kind of giving we do when we can't bear to see someone suffer. That's co-dependency and we only do it out of our own need to avoid suffering.

2. Giving to the poor happily, but inadequately.

This happens when the coffee barista asks whether you'd like to add $1 to help AIDS orphans in Africa. We smile generously, because smiles are cheap, and we reply, "Certainly" -- even though we know a buck is a woefully "inadequate" for such a momentous task.

3. Giving to the poor after being asked.

This can either be giving pocket change to the homeless or writing a large check at a charity benefit. You do it because in some sense you had to be pressured before you "noticed" the need.

4. Giving to the poor without being asked.

Giving gets a bit harder at this level. You've got to be looking for needs. As Kaiser Cement Corp. used to say, "Find a need and fill it." Truthfully, I usually hover about a "4."

5. Giving to the poor without knowledge of the recipient, but allowing the recipient to know your identity.

This is giving to someone we don't know, but we still "allow" them to hear of our generosity, perhaps because we are waiting for the applause.

6. Giving to the poor with knowledge of the recipient but without allowing the recipient to know your identity (anonymous giving).

Some see this as the highest form of giving. Perhaps you give your pastor $200 to buy clothes for the Jones' family and whisper, "Don't tell them who gave this gift." It's a high form of giving, because it concentrates on the need and doesn't wait for applause.

7. Giving to the poor without knowledge of the recipient and without allowing the recipient to know your identity.

This gets much harder, because there simply is no "payback." This might occur where a person runs from a restaurant without paying. You pay the bill and he receives the gift oblivious to your generosity.

8. Investing in a poor person in a manner in which they can become self-sufficient.

This giving is illustrated in that saying, "Give a person a fish and he eats for a day. Teach him to fish and he eats for a lifetime."

This is extremely hard, because "the gift" is really you. It requires that you know your ABCs of charity -- Assess the problem. Believe you can effect a change. And implement Charity.

These ABCs are best characterized in the radical giving Jesus introduced in his parable about a poverty-stricken widow who gave all she had, two coins worth half a cent.

In Mark 12, Jesus says, "This widow . . . has put in more than all those contributing to the treasury. For they all threw in out of their abundance; but she, out of her deep poverty, has put in . . . all she had on which to live."

Our current economy might be best benefited from this kind of radical giving. After all it's the kind of giving that God best demonstrated when he put a baby in a Bethlehem manger 2,000 years ago.

Here are last two articles

Dear Readers,

Finally, I have my web site moved new server. You don't need to know what a server is -- ya just need to know this one works much better. No more repeated emails or failed deliveries of the column.

I'm off to Iraq 26 December. I hope to still be emailing the column.

Blessings!


It's the season to give -- of yourself
6 Dec 08

By the time I was 13, our Christmas became more about a way to dole out necessities such as socks, underwear and pajamas than about surprises.

By my mid-teens, our family stopped buying Christmas trees. Giving was limited to the exchange of single gifts of necessity on Christmas Eve.

Since many of my childhood Christmases were likely celebrated a little above poverty level, my wife says I shouldn't mention them in a holiday column. She remembers a different kind of Christmas. While her family wasn't affluent, her parents - a minister and a schoolteacher - surrounded her and her siblings with multiple packages wrapped in fluffy bows.

I wasn't there during her childhood, but I know what her Christmases looked like because she's brought them into our family tradition.

For the past 25 Christmases, our combined families bring a boatload of gifts to the Christmas tree. Traditionally, the person opening the gift is obliged to note the beauty of the paper and comment on the mystery of the contents.

Once unwrapped, bows, paper and ribbons are placed in their respective recycle bins. The whole event can be such a gift-opening marathon that sometimes we've actually scheduled a break for lunch and a nap.

It's not really such an overabundance - it's just that her family appreciates the color and wrapping of Christmas so much that they wrap every item individually. Say, for instance, a grandchild is given a remote-control car. Normally, my mother-in-law will wrap the car, the batteries and the remote control in three separate boxes.

While my wife says my childhood Christmases sound a bit deprived, I don't remember them that way. In fact, the recession we find ourselves in has caused me to more deeply cherish the most meaningful gift my father passed to me - faith.

It was a faith recounted many times during our frugal Christmases as my dad read and reread the story of the frightened village girl who heard the news of her pending pregnancy from an angel.

I love how "The Message" translates that moment from the first chapter of Luke's gospel.

"God sent the angel Gabriel to the Galilean village of Nazareth to a virgin ... Gabriel greeted her:

"'Good morning!

"'You're beautiful with God's beauty,

"'Beautiful inside and out!'

"'God be with you.

"She was thoroughly shaken, wondering what was behind a greeting like that. But the angel assured her, 'Mary, you have nothing to fear. God has a surprise for you: You will become pregnant and give birth to a son and call his name Jesus.' "

The simple story has a way of reminding us all that the reason for the season isn't so much about receiving gifts as it is about the giving of ourselves.

For if you celebrate the Christmas story in its full meaning, you are obligated to follow it through to its finale of giving, Easter. For it isn't until Easter that we can see the original Christmas gift wasn't gold, frankincense and myrrh but the sacrificial gift of God himself.

So while this Christmas you may not be able to afford the latest game console or the largest diamond, we may want to consider the ways in which we might give of ourselves in sacrificial ways.

Oh, by the way, when I was 10, we stopped doing Halloween, but I'll spare you that sad, sad story. After all, it is the season to be jolly.


December 13, 2008


Know what motivates you to give


If you haven't finished your Christmas list yet, you might consult another list written by Moses. No, not that Moses. This Moses was a Rabbi from the 13th century, Moses Maimonides.

His list -- Maimonides' Eight Degrees of Charity -- describes eight levels that motivate our giving to those in need. Read the paraphrased list below along with my comments and ask yourself which one best describes your motives.

1. Giving to the poor unwillingly.

This is what a Tibetan Buddhist named Trungpa Rinpoche called "Idiot compassion." It's the kind of giving we do when we can't bear to see someone suffer. That's co-dependency and we only do it out of our own need to avoid suffering.

2. Giving to the poor happily, but inadequately.

This happens when the coffee barista asks whether you'd like to add $1 to help AIDS orphans in Africa. We smile generously, because smiles are cheap, and we reply, "Certainly" -- even though we know a buck is a woefully "inadequate" for such a momentous task.

3. Giving to the poor after being asked.

This can either be giving pocket change to the homeless or writing a large check at a charity benefit. You do it because in some sense you had to be pressured before you "noticed" the need.

4. Giving to the poor without being asked.

Giving gets a bit harder at this level. You've got to be looking for needs. As Kaiser Cement Corp. used to say, "Find a need and fill it." Truthfully, I usually hover about a "4."

5. Giving to the poor without knowledge of the recipient, but allowing the recipient to know your identity.

This is giving to someone we don't know, but we still "allow" them to hear of our generosity, perhaps because we are waiting for the applause.

6. Giving to the poor with knowledge of the recipient but without allowing the recipient to know your identity (anonymous giving).

Some see this as the highest form of giving. Perhaps you give your pastor $200 to buy clothes for the Jones' family and whisper, "Don't tell them who gave this gift." It's a high form of giving, because it concentrates on the need and doesn't wait for applause.

7. Giving to the poor without knowledge of the recipient and without allowing the recipient to know your identity.

This gets much harder, because there simply is no "payback." This might occur where a person runs from a restaurant without paying. You pay the bill and he receives the gift oblivious to your generosity.

8. Investing in a poor person in a manner in which they can become self-sufficient.

This giving is illustrated in that saying, "Give a person a fish and he eats for a day. Teach him to fish and he eats for a lifetime."

This is extremely hard, because "the gift" is really you. It requires that you know your ABCs of charity -- Assess the problem. Believe you can effect a change. And implement Charity.

These ABCs are best characterized in the radical giving Jesus introduced in his parable about a poverty-stricken widow who gave all she had, two coins worth half a cent.

In Mark 12, Jesus says, "This widow . . . has put in more than all those contributing to the treasury. For they all threw in out of their abundance; but she, out of her deep poverty, has put in . . . all she had on which to live."

Our current economy might be best benefited from this kind of radical giving. After all it's the kind of giving that God best demonstrated when he put a baby in a Bethlehem manger 2,000 years ago.