three more columns

Readers,

In my last email, I cut off the last part of a column. I've re-sent the column in the bottom of today's email


Subtle questions still plague race relations

BY NORRIS BURKES • FLORIDA TODAY • FEBRUARY 6, 2011
"Have you ever been fired from a church?" I once asked my dad.
As a pastor, he was subject to the whim of the local congregation whose denomination, the Southern Baptist Convention, saw 2,000 ministers fired each year.
My dad paused, as if wondering how much he should tell me.
"Once," he announced. "I shook hands with a black man on the steps of our Mississippi church. I was fired the next week."

Last month, as I hung around the National Guard Chaplain's Conference in Washington, D.C., with Seventh-day Adventist Chaplain Ivan Williams, I realized how far we've come in race relations since my dad's generation.
Ivan is African-American. We've been friends for almost 10 years, and during the conference, we ate meals together, shared our hurts and even went shopping together.

Hanging around Ivan is like befriending a true celebrity. People of all colors and persuasions love him. He's funny. He's sincere, and he's extremely caring to people he meets.

On one of our museum outings, when we stood looking at a gallery of previous museum directors, I said to Ivan, "Did you notice there aren't any people of color among these directors?"

Ivan surprised me when he responded with, "You ask questions other white people won't ask."

"Are you talking about how I asked the question about lunchtime in the conference?"

"Nah, man. You know what I mean," he said.

I did know. So, I asked a few more things.

"Why is it that you make friends wherever you go? And why is it that since I'm a member of a majority race, I have to prove my intentions with folks? Sometimes I'm jealous of you, man."

I don't know why, but we always call each other "man."

We laughed, perhaps a bit nervously as friends breaching the race issue. We both knew race relations had come a long way since rogue policemen let loose the dogs or pushed folks to the back of the bus, or off the lunch counter, but we also knew the subtle questions remain.

I had to wonder what it was about the clerk or waitress of color who'd greet Ivan first and bring that extra ice tea without asking. Yet I'm sure Ivan also questioned why it was the white people we met would often speak to me as if I was in charge. There is an interesting little verse in Romans, which says, "God does not show favoritism." It's not a particularly profound thought until you analyze the passage in the early manuscripts. Literally, the verse says: "God is not a face receiver." It means God doesn't look upon the race of the face, but as the verse says, grants "glory, honor and peace for everyone who does good."

About the same time that the church fired my dad for shaking hands with a black man, a Biblical scholar named Clarence Jordan founded an interracial farming community called Koinonia based on the question: "Could people who followed the same Lord work side-by-side with people of all colors?"

As you might imagine, they experienced a great deal of opposition to that question, but the community still exists today. (See koinoniapartners.org.)
Jordan believed in questions that could provoke change. And I leave you with one of those questions he asked his own brother. When his brother balked at helping Koinonia Farms with legal representation, Clarence asked him, "Are you a disciple of Christ or merely an admirer?"

Good question for all of us.


A good reminder to live in the moment

BY NORRIS BURKES • FLORIDA TODAY • JANUARY 30, 2011

As you read this, you should know Harold Camping is warning that you have less than four months before Jesus returns.

And the word is, the Lord Jesus Christ ain't happy.

Before you dismiss Camping as a crackpot, you should know he is no slouch. Well, at 89, he may slouch a bit, but mostly he's a businessman who owns a chain of 150 conservative Christian radio stations called Family Radio.

With a civil engineering degree from the University of California at Berkeley, Camping has a flair for calculations.

He says the Bible contains a decipherable code that reveals something Jesus categorically called unpredictable, namely the date of Jesus' return.
He's put those calculations on hundreds of billboards nationwide stating that Jesus will return on May 21, 2011, to be followed by the catastrophic destruction of Earth on Oct. 21, 2011.

It's these specific predictions that make Camping an easy target of ridicule from those within and without the Christian faith.

But if we were honest with ourselves, we'd admit Camping's calamitous predictions remind us of two sides of our lives: one good and the other not so much.

On the better side, there is a way in which we should treat every day as if this was our last day in this world.

And not just because it will be the last day for some of us, but because this moment is the only moment truly promised to us.

I'm not suggesting you max your credit card or quit your job. I'm suggesting you give your full attention to living life now. How will you use your now?
But the flip side is the negative way in which we can make rash predictions about our future. It's called catastrophizing, and it's the way we tend to turn small things into catastrophes.

The online Urban Dictionary defines this common psychological term: "to hyper-imagine negative outcomes to a situation that has no basis in reality. To blow problems out of proportion such that you spiral into an emotional catastrophe."

Simply put, it's like taking an otherwise manageable problem and imagining how that problem will become the catastrophic end of our world.The ironic thing about catastrophizing is that it tends to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Psychological studies done at the University of California, Riverside, indicate: "Males with a tendency to catastrophize were at the highest risk for early death . . . and were 25 percent more likely to die by age 65 . . . by accident or violence."Jesus wasn't a psychiatrist. In a little session he conducted on a hillside, usually referred to as the Sermon on the Mount, he perfectly summarized my column points in the Message translation of the Bible:
1. "Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now."
2. "Don't get worked up (or catastrophize) about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes."
And when Jesus provides my column summary, I can't think of much more to say, unless it would be to ask him for an interview and preferably before Oct. 21.


Norris Burkes: Expressing sympathy can be a tricky task
BY NORRIS BURKES • FLORIDA TODAY • JANUARY 23, 2011


"What we've got here is (a) failure to communicate" is the statement made famous by the prison warden in the 1967 film "Cool Hand Luke." It's a line I find myself repeating when a reader's interpretation of my column sounds like something pulled from a rabbit hole.

I'll usually respond with: "What I meant to say . . .," but it's rare that the reader will renege and let me know, "Oh, now I understand."
Such are the limitations of written communication.

Perhaps nowhere is communication more important than in the moment we attempt to convey sympathy or understanding. As a chaplain, I've noticed there are three ways people can show concern toward someone who has experienced a tragedy or a loss in their lives.

First, there is a written form. Inevitably, someone introduces written communication expressed through a greeting card. Discussion arises on who will pick the card. What is appropriate? Something direct or something poetic?

With the card purchased, everyone signs it. Some are artificially relieved with the feeling they've done something. And yes, it's something, but it's very limited in what it can convey.

Secondly, I encourage people to talk to the bereft, because speech doesn't have the limitations of the written word. If someone misunderstands your speech, it can be repeated, slowed, rephrased, softened or strengthened. Or you simply can try again later.

There are good things to say to those who are hurting that will help them express their grief. I advise people to simply state their observations.

You can say things such as: "I know you were very close to her." "I have no idea what it must be like for you." "People are going to miss him, especially you." "All of this is unreal. It must be hard to accept."

The best conversations share memories of the deceased. By offering stories and anecdotes, you show willingness to keep memories alive. If you didn't know the deceased, it's a good idea to invite the sharing of a story or photo.
But even speech has its problems. The list is long of things not to say, such as: "It was God's will." "I know how you feel." "God doesn't give you more than you can handle." "Give it time."

Unfortunately, the fear of saying the wrong thing often will silence people and leave the grieving feeling neglected.

That's why I favor personal presence as the best form of communicating your sympathy. Presence trumps writing and speech.
I often quote the story of the nurse who introduced me to a woman whose mother was bleeding to death in our operating room. Knowing there was nothing I could say to make it better, I simply asked her if I could sit in reverent silence while her mother died.

She readily accepted.

People who share their presence are people who go beyond the impotent offer, "If there's anything I can do, let me know."

When my father died, my sister anticipated these cliché offers, so she prepared a signup list of errands and chores that invited people to be present in the grief process. People who were sincere in their offer stood up and showed up. One man even mowed my widowed mother's lawn for a year.
By communicating willingness to disregard our comforts and be present following or during the moments of tragedy, we ensure there is no failure to communicate God's love.

Burkes is a former civilian hospital chaplain and an Air National Guard chaplain. Write norris@thechaplain.net or visit thechaplain.net. You also can follow him on Facebook at facebook.com/norrisburkes.