New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
column for last weekend of July 2017


Column:

LOST IN TRANSLATION

As Becky and I transition into life in a non-English-speaking country, we are testing the boundaries of the timeworn admonition – Don't judge another until you've walked in their shoes.

In just the first week of cheek-kissing and rich foods, I've gained a little insight, if not a little weight, into life as a refugee.

For instance, I search the grocery store for milk, but without language skills, I can only hope I'm not pouring dairy creamer on my oatmeal the next morning.

Becky and I board a downtown bus, but decide to recheck our navigation on the transit map posted inside. We wonder aloud if we're going the wrong direction. Three riders take note of our concern. Without English, they gesticulate their assurances that we're OK.

The whole thing has me wondering about what refugees go through. Of course I'm not really an refugee. I'm a poser with a credit card. In comparison, I have few challenges. I have a retirement income that supports a standard of living nearly identical to home, and I enjoy ready-made friends in the local church.

To really know the refugee life is to know fear. Not just the fear of being on the wrong bus or buying the wrong kind of milk.

To experience the life of a refugee, you must assume the life of a nonperson, someone without the proper paperwork. To really know it, you must be in such fear, that you'd uproot your family, desert your house and leave all your belongings to search for food and safety.

Jesus' family struggled in much the same way.

I know that not all my readers buy the Jesus story, but at the very least, you can imagine the part of it where he's born into a family that crosses the border to escape a maniacal ruler who's killing all the Jewish toddlers.

The biblical narrative claims that Jesus is a guy from a whole different plane of existence. I mean, he's supposed to be God, right? Yet Christian scripture says he relinquishes all his god-like attributes to become one of us.

Not to get overly theological in a newspaper column, but Jesus purportedly laid aside his power, his omniscience and his omnipresence, to become the ultimate émigré, deportee or outcast. Scriptures say his own people, meaning the religious people of his day, rejected him.

Then he was crucified between two common thieves. Today, church folks call this celestial immigrant their Savior.

My point is that in modern times, we still discount the refugee for fear he might be a terrorist. But if you accept Jesus' story, you must consider the chance that today's immigrant might also be a savior.

No, not the born-of-a-virgin type, but perhaps a savior with a small s. Meaning, we must consider what this immigrant might contribute to our future if he is allowed an equal status. Perhaps he or she will lead, invent, create, produce or save the pieces of the world that need saving.

A stretch? Maybe. But I know one thing. The faith I follow teaches me to do unto others as I would have them do unto me. Now that I'm a pseudo-immigrant, I know more of what that means. I will depend on others to help me in the same way I should help them if they were in my country.

For instance, last week I had a wonderful dinner with a Belgium family. The meal was heavy with garlic and onions. Later, inside their guest bathroom, I considered using the breath spray I found on the counter.

Good thing I checked with my host. It was room deodorizer. I think I'm going to need a lot of help while I'm here.

-----------------------------------------
Read Norris' past columns at www.thechaplain.net. Write him at comment@thechaplain.net. Twitter @chaplain or call (843) 608-9715.

 

Attachment:

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
3rd column in July 2017


Column:

I apologize that last send was mislabeled, but it's the right piece for the 3rd week in July

If you want a picture of Pastor Pat Hood to go with the column, please reply and I will send you one.

 

Attachment:

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
3rd column in June 2017


Column:

Encouraging One Another

A tall woman in jeans and a light blouse greeted my wife and me with "Bonjour." Around us, people welcomed one another with a noisy kiss on each cheek. By now, we knew we "weren't in Kanas anymore."

We were standing at the information table inside LifePoint Church, on the fourth floor of a downtown office in Brussels, Belgium.

The woman offered us a choice of coffee or tea as I explained how we'd be in Belgium through November.

"When did you arrive in Brussels?" she asked

"Friday," Becky replied.

"And you came here first?" she asked.

"Well, not literally 'first,'" I qualified. "Technically, we took a shower first."

"Wow! Aren't you exhausted?" she asked.

I smiled, explaining how we'd made time to adjust to jet lag. We'd come from Sacramento via stops in New York and Iceland. We'd landed in Belgium less than 48 hours previous.

Our greeter wasn't the first person to express surprise that we came to church so quickly after our arrival.

Nevertheless, I was caught short in my answer, a bit surprised at myself. Am I really so "religious" that I must report to church first thing? I'd never thought so.

The clarity came when Pat Hood stood to preach.

Through a French translator, he explained that the Brussels church was a church plant, or franchise, of the mother LifePoint in Smyrna, Tennessee. Hood is the senior pastor in Smyrna, but helps to fill the interim while the Brussels campus searches for a French-speaking pastor.

Hood directed the congregation of 70 to the words of the Apostle Paul in Hebrews 10:25ff. "Consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another…."

It's a great passage that inspires the church, but it was the phrase "one another" that had my attention. It's a catchphrase used over 50 times in the New Testament to hearten people of faith to do such things as, love one another, stop passing judgment on one another, honor one another, etc.

Furthermore we are told to speak, submit, love, honor, forgive, instruct and be kind – all commands qualified by the words "one another."

And where are we supposed to learn and practice those things? Apparently the church is our laboratory or classroom. Paul tells us we aren't to cut class or "give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing."

So yes, I found a church quickly. Not because I'm an ordained, Right-Reverend, member of the clergy required to do some kind of professional check-in.

I went because church is my practice field where I will exercise love, honor, compassion and forgiveness. It's here among people of like-mind and faith that I will be "spurred on" to live out these one-another traits. After all, if I can't find some success in a church, then I probably need to stay for extra practice before I go onto the field of life.

By the way, I'm having trouble with a few of these one-another directives. John 13 says we are to wash one another's feet. Not sure I'm up to that one yet.

Fortunately, I like the one-another way the French practice Romans 16:16, "Greet one another with a holy kiss." Although, I should say that Madame Chaplain isn't quite as enthusiastic about it.

C'est la vie. Until next week – kiss, kiss, and au revoir.

See more at http://lifepointchurch.org/brussels-en
-----------------------------------------
Read Norris' past columns at www.thechaplain.net. Write him at comment@thechaplain.net. Twitter @chaplain or call (843) 608-9715.

 

Attachment:

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
Second column for July 2017


Column:

Bags Sometimes Shift During Flight

I spent last week packing heavy suitcase for our new overseas life. However, they were relatively light compared to the suitcase of worry I had to unpack during a recent dentist visit.

I'd come to check out a bump on my hard pallet, but no sooner had I dispensed my tongue to say "ahh" than he involved an oral surgeon. The surgeon sent me to an Ear, Nose and Throat (ENT) doctor "just to be on the safe side."

The ENT exam began with a young resident jamming his index finger in my mouth like he was looking for lose change in a couch cushion. As the resident hunted, the ENT doctor joined our party.

The doctor asked how I was doing, but my answer sounded more like a charismatic evangelist speaking in tongues.

"Whaaa up hawk?" I asked, feigning a casual note.

The resident released my tongue from its gibberish desires so I could explain things to the doctor. "I have a bump the size of a pea in my upper jaw."

I told him that I was looking got get travel clearance for our "4-month European chocolate expedition."

I had legitimate reasons to worry. During my chaplain training, our supervisor warned us that we'd see enough tragedy to make us honest hypochondriacs.

"Just a professional hazard," he shrugged.

He was right. I've met patients whose story began with a simple visit to their family doctor. Suddenly a specialist sends them to a surgeon and hospice soon follows. When you see this much, it's easy to wonder, as Hemmingway did, "When will the bell toll for thee?"

Confiding in the doctor, I unpacked some personal story. I described how I picked up a limp while running high school cross-country. The limp developed into a bone tumor and, at 17 years old, I was sure I'd lose a leg to amputation. Gratefully, the tumor was benign.

But most of all, my bag of fear transferred from a connecting flight with a friend's story. In the early 70s, I lived with my roommate Roger in an asbestos-packed flophouse on the edge of Baylor University. Despite a small fire in the house, we stayed in the damaged apartment an additional 18 months.

Twenty years ago Roger made a round of doctor visits and was diagnosed with neck and throat cancer. We never learned the cause of his cancer, but I've always suspected the asbestos smoke from our college days.

Gratefully, only a few minutes into my exam, the ENT doc kicked my overweight bags off this flight.

"Actually you have another smaller bump on the opposite side."

I inhaled. "What?"

"Nothing to worry about, he assured. "Bad things don't come symmetrically – only good things."

I squinted, not understanding. He dumbed it down a bit more.

"If that was a tumor, you wouldn't have a matching lump on the opposite side."

I sighed. The good doctor had repacked my story, scanned it through security, and found no worries.

All of us try to smuggle our bags of worry onto our flights. But sometimes we need to set those bags down and find someone to share them with. We need the help of friends, family and sometimes professionals to help us unpack and re-examine them.

In other words, we need help finding those good things in life that come in symmetric pairs like faith and family, purpose and direction or travel and culture.

My luggage may have shifted during this flight, but the doctor was on a smooth glide path when he suggested only good things come in pairs. He cleared me for take off and sent me packing to find some of those good things on the other side of the Atlantic.

Follow my new travel blog at burkesbums.com

-----------------------------------------
Read Norris' past columns at www.thechaplain.net. Write him at comment@thechaplain.net. Twitter @chaplain or call (843) 608-9715

 

Attachment:

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
Column for Jul 8 weekend


Column:

Everything I Needed to Know, I Learned in Vacation Bible School

I spent last week driving my grandson to Vacation Bible School, or VBS as it's often called. If you're unfamiliar with VBS, you should know it's like a summer school run by church volunteers for five consecutive weekday mornings.

I grew up a preacher's kid and attended VBS every year where I learned much of what I needed to know about faith. I can't recall the names of my teachers, but I'd like to describe how and what they taught me through a composite character I'll call Ms. Susan.

We didn't have video screens then, so Ms. Susan mesmerized us with something called a flannel board. She attached cutouts of felt figures to the board to tell the stories of longhaired, bearded heroes like Samson, Moses and Noah. She left us spellbound as she told the story about the boy who used his own lunch to help Jesus feed a crowd of 5,000. Then she'd challenge us to find ways to help Jesus, too.

Ms. Susan often quizzed us to measure our attention. When we answered correctly, she placed gold stars beside our names on a chart. If we could recite our daily Bible verse, she'd give us an extra star. Once we collected five stars, we got a candy prize.

Sometimes she'd initiate a Bible drill, calling random scripture references like Isaiah 3:12 and 1 Timothy 1:6. The first child to find the verse won. If you think it's easy, see how long it takes you to find Hesitations 1:2.

Ha! No such verse. If you fell for that trick, you wouldn't get a star.

Her stories were so well told that when I arrived at Baylor University in 1975 for Dr. James Breckenridge's New Testament class, I assumed I wouldn't need to study. The D- on my first test told me otherwise.

Breckenridge upended my world by teaching that the Bible told an important story, but not always with literal facts. Sometimes Biblical writers used poetry and hyperbole. He challenged us to read the Bible for its stories of redemption, forgiveness, not for it's scientific timelines.

As I listened to his teaching, I wondered if it meant that Ms. Susan's Bible stories were untrue. My ship of faith began listing, but just before it capsized, my professor threw me a life preserver.

"Search the Genesis story for a deeper debate than simply when the world began," said Breckenridge. When I searched, I found that Adam and Eve, just as Ms. Susan had suggested, speaks to our mankind's common temptations.

Both of my teachers, Breckenridge and Ms. Susan helped me realize that the Bible is the story of God's personal intervention in our lives. We can regard its message, respect its words and revere its truths, but we needn't worship it.

At the end of the day, I have to credit Ms. Susan as being the first teacher to challenge me not to simply memorize Bible trivia, but to live out its truths in everyday life — difficult truths, like loving one's neighbor as one's self and forgiving each other our trespasses.

Finally, it is the claim that the Bible makes about itself that I hope my grandson heard at his VBS. The claim expressed in the prayer spoken by the Psalmist who said,

By carefully reading the map of your Word
I'm single-minded in pursuit of you;
don't let me miss the road signs you've posted.
I've banked your promises in the vault of my heart
so I won't sin myself bankrupt.

Message Translation Psalm 119:11
-----------------------------------------
Read Norris' past columns at www.thechaplain.net. Write him at comment@thechaplain.net. Twitter @chaplain or call (843) 608-9715

 

Attachment: