New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
First column in October 2017


Column:

Booking for Love in all the Wrong Places

Before Hurricane Maria last week, I would've told you that Puerto Rico is a beautiful place. At least that's what my wife, Becky, discovered when she and my daughter, Sara, visited there in 2010.

By day, they set course to as many beaches as possible. When they weren't snorkeling or reading a book, they navigated the roads around the island. By night, they rowed into the bioluminescent bays where bacteria stirred up a soup of Christmas lights.

Amidst the fun, they took time each day to plan their next stop. Sara is fluent in Spanish these days, but wasn't so much back then. She occasionally misunderstood some seemingly inconsequential details in their bookings.

Their planning worked pretty well until about the fourth day when they'd spent too much time in the blistering sun. Both feverish, they desperately followed a recommendation toward a quiet, air-conditioned hotel.

Somewhere not far from the beach, they took a wrong turn on a midnight road. They found a motel, but it didn't seem as classy as the one recommended to them. It was configured in an odd way with individual garages for each room. Nevertheless, they were eager for sleep, so they pulled into the driveway.

Instead of finding a reception room, two men came to their car window to ask $25 for admission. My daughter paid and was motioned to pull into an open garage attached to the hotel room, much like a condominium in the states.

The garage door closed behind them, and my wife and daughter stepped into their well-lit hotel room with suspicion. At first it seemed they'd found what they needed -- a shower, a clean-sheeted bed and an air-conditioner.

However, after finding no blankets, my wife quickly saw a seedy side to the windowless room. There was a mirror on the ceiling. There was a box resembling a medicine cabinet that opened to the outside air. Next to the door was a menu for various lotions, condoms and other paraphernalia.

Wow. I guess you can say Sara was booking for love in all the wrong places

My sunburned family was too tired to be bothered by such transgressions. They locked the doors, covered themselves with towels and fell fast asleep. The phone rang loudly at 6 a.m. with a frantic caller declaring that their time had expired and they must leave.

Later that day, they made some detailed inquiries with locals. Apparently Sara had become lost in the translation and missed a critical detail in her travel fatigue. The "hotel" was a "love motel" popular in the Latin and Asian world. They are rented by hour as places for both marital romance and adulterous rendezvous.

Why would a chaplain share such a sordid story in a spiritual column?

I confess, like advertisers who use sex to get your attention, I tell you this funny story to get your spiritual attention. The people of Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands are stranded on an island hit with apocalyptic devastation. They need real love, not the empty love of "I'll pray for them," or "They're in my thoughts."

They need our hands, our monies and our resources. They are us. They are Americans. If you care about your fellow Americans, please help Puerto Rico too. See the Time Magazine list of charities for Puerto Rico at http://tinyurl.com/HelpPRtoo

"Shouldn't we help Florida and Texas too?" you ask. Good question. My personal favorite that gives 100% of your donation to help all three places is One America Appeal. This charity was started by all our living past presidents and is supported by the current one. Donations are best made online at oneamericaappeal.org.

Show them our love. Give today.


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New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
4th weekend in September


Column:

Living the Last Day of the Rest of Your Life

If David Meade of Wisconsin is right, this will be the last column I ever write. However, if you're reading this, it's probably because Meade's calculations that the world would end on Sept 23 were wrong.

Meade is a "Christian numerologist" and self-published author who believes that the Bible contains a decipherable code that reveals the date of Jesus' return. This event, of course, is something Jesus categorically called unpredictable.

However, Meade isn't deterred by Jesus' teaching. He points to the recent solar eclipse and hurricanes as proof of the coming apocalypse. He arrives at the Sept. 23 date by using the "codes" he's found in the Bible. He believes that certain planetary alignments on that date will foreshadow the apocalypse with volcanic eruptions, tsunamis and earthquakes.

Disclaimer: this columnist is not promoting Meade's whack-a-doodle views.

For that matter, I'd say few if any Christians share his calculations. Nonetheless, many evangelical Christians do believe the apocalypse will come someday. Fortunately, their "some-day" outlook sets a more reasonable tone than Meade's "today" tune.

But if we're honest with ourselves, it's tempting to give thought to such calamitous predictions. They remind us of the two ways we look at life: one good and the other not so much.

On the negative side, we seem to enjoy making rash negative predictions about our future. It's called catastrophizing, and it's how 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, we take an otherwise manageable problem and worry ourselves silly by imagining the possible catastrophic endings of our personal 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."

On the better side, Meade's prediction reminds us that any day could be our last one on earth. If the world will end this Saturday, then today is really the only moment truly promised to us. In that case, shall we party on?

No. 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 in this very moment. Don't just build a bucket list for some day. Turn the bucket upside down and let it all spill out. Live tomorrow's list today.

Jesus wasn't a psychiatrist, but he had a much better way of looking at things than Meade's catastrophic viewpoint. In a talk he gave on a hillside, usually referred to as the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus perfectly summarized the positive points of living each day as your last. In Eugene Patterson's "The Message" translation of the Bible, Jesus says,

"Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now."

"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 if you'll heed those words, I have a prediction for you. You needn't worry about the last day because your days will truly be lasting.

In other words, make your weekend beach plans.
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Attachment:

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
third column for Sept 2017


Column:

Does Your Faith Call You To Heroics?

Ten years ago, I was packing for my deployment to Iraq when I stopped to ask my wife, Becky, what she feared most."

"I'm afraid you'll be killed doing something heroic," she said.

I answered her with an embrace, proud she thought me capable of that kind of mettle.

This past week I rehashed those thoughts while touring the resting place of thousands of World War I soldiers in France and Belgium. The outing with Baxter's Battlefield Tours was called "Faith Under Fire" because it focused on the heroism of WWI chaplains.

Our tour guide, Paul Prendergast, took us to St. Sever Cemetery in Rouen, France to visit the grave of Chaplain Theodor B. Hardy, the most decorated noncombatant of the Great War.

Hardy was 52 years old in 1916 when he told his wife, Florence that he was voluntarily deploying to the Western Front. I imagine Florence reacted much the same way as my wife. She didn't want her husband to make heroic risks, but she knew he'd follow his calling.

Like many combat chaplains, Hardy moved quietly inside the darkened trenches to offer guidance and consolation along with cigarettes and sweets. But it was his reputation for advancing from those trenches with his men that endeared him in military history.

He received his first decoration from the Battle of Passchendaele, in October of 1917 where the British lost 275,000 men.

The Distinguished Service Order reads, with a "… broken wrist and under the worst weather conditions, he crawled out with patrols within 70 yards of the enemy and returned with the wounded men under heavy fire."

Two months later, Hardy was awarded the Military Cross, the British military's third highest award, for his attending of the wounded. "The ground on which he worked was constantly shelled and casualties were heavy, [yet] he continually assisted in finding and carrying wounded and guiding stretcher bearers to the aid post."

During a battle on the Somme in the spring of 1918, Hardy initiated three actions that would bring his nation's highest honor, the Victoria Cross.

On the first occasion, he located a badly wounded officer separated from his patrol. Hardy endured tremendous enemy fire until he finally managed to bring the man back to the aid station.

In the second event, Hardy responded to a destroyed battalion post. Again while under heavy shelling, he dug a survivor from the rubble.

But the most valiant deed listed in the lengthy citation recounts how Hardy persuaded his sergeant to search for a wounded man in woods heavily infested with enemy soldiers. They found the man and carried him back to the trenches while under constant enemy fire.

When the King of England presented Hardy with the Victoria Cross on August 9, 2018, he urged him to become His Majesty's personal chaplain. I can only imagine Florence had high hopes that her husband would accept the job, but his calling was with "the boys."

On October 10th 1918, Hardy was moving about the ranks as they readied their crossing of the river Selle. Suddenly a machine gun burst shattered the chaplain's leg. The injury seemed survivable, so he was evacuated to the hospital in Rouen.

"Sadly," our tour guide concluded, "Hardy passed away the following week at the age of 54."

I stood motionless, with the reality of my wife's fear over military service. I felt small in the presence of such heroics. I was grateful that men such as these likely reduced the risks I faced during my military career.

Gratefully, I returned from Iraq, all the hero my wife was looking for. For that reason, on this, the centenary of World War I, I salute our heroes of faith.
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Attachment:

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
Please replace graph #15


Column:

Editors please replace graph 15 in previous copy with this one:

For instance, I join with religious leaders who have overwhelmingly condemned President Trump's decision to end the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program. For me, this "condemnation" is my valid spiritual assessment as a chaplain. If you choose not to read my column after this, you too have made an assessment.

Entire column follows:

To Judge or Not to Judge

In my role as a chaplain, people often bring me their complaint against organized religion. I'm not proud of the fact, but my responses occasionally come with a bit of snark.

For instance, when folks complain, "Religion is a cash business," I say, "No. We take credit cards too."

When they protest, "The church is full of hypocrites!" I reassure them that it's not yet at full capacity, so "We have room for you, too."

Often they joke in return, asking if "my boss" will do something about the lousy weather. I say, "Sorry. I work in sales, not customer service."

But I'll admit I lose my levity when someone judges religious people as being "too judgmental."

That was the tune whistled last week by a few readers who thought my column about Trump was "too judgmental." They rebuked me with Jesus' warning to "judge not" and advised me not to "cast the first stone."

My response, not at witty as the others, is that I follow a Judean teacher who pronounced more than a few judgments.

He wasn't one to throw up his hands and say, "Hey, whatever floats your boat. Who am I to judge?" Actually he said, "The world is against me because I expose the evil behind its pretensions" (John 7:7).

As a person of this planet, it's essential that I make judgments. As a person of faith, my judgments must follow the guidelines of grace that require me not to judge the heart of another person.

"How do you balance grace and judgment?" you ask.

The answer might come from Judge Abner McCall, the late president of Baylor University, where I attended in the late 70s.

"When people ask about the difference between our Christian University and a secular one," he said, "I tell them this: If our professors give you a failing grade, they'll sit down and cry with you."

McCall was teaching Baylor students that professors are perfectly qualified to judge a student's work. However, with his reference to tears, McCall was saying this judgment was accompanied by an offer of grace after failure.

Being people of faith doesn't disqualify us from speaking on moral issues. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Spiritual folks are obliged to speak for those who have no voice. We are compelled to challenge the face of injustice.

For instance, I join with religious leaders who have overwhelmingly condemned President Trump's decision to end the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program. For me, this "condemnation" is my valid spiritual assessment as a chaplain. If you choose not to read my column after this, you too have made an assessment.

"Assessment" is a word that commonly used in the healthcare world where I've worked for more than 20 years. A few years ago, VA doctors diagnosed my brother as a diabetic. They were not passing judgment on him as a person. They were making an impartial assessment in which they extended the grace of treatment.

However, when he refused to take his medications, I told him that he was making a very bad decision. I was not making a judgment of his heart, but I made it clear that he was wrong.

A year later, he's taking his medications because judgments offered with grace often lead to recovery.

Pastor and theologian J.D. Greear put it best when he concluded his "Christianity Today" article on the subject of judgment.

"Don't judge others by withholding the truth. But don't judge them by speaking the truth without grace…. Truth without grace is judgmental fundamentalism; grace without truth is liberal sentimentality."

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Email: comment@thechaplain.net. Voicemail (843) 608-9715 Twitter @chaplain Read past columns at www.thechaplain.net.

 

Attachment:

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
Column for second week of Sept


Column:

To Judge or Not to Judge

In my role as a chaplain, people often bring me their complaint against organized religion. I'm not proud of the fact, but my responses occasionally come with a bit of snark.

For instance, when folks complain, "Religion is a cash business," I say, "No. We take credit cards too."

When they protest, "The church is full of hypocrites!" I reassure them that it's not yet at full capacity, so "We have room for you, too."

Often they joke in return, asking if "my boss" will do something about the lousy weather. I say, "Sorry. I work in sales, not customer service."

But I'll admit I lose my levity when someone judges religious people as being "too judgmental."

That was the tune whistled last week by a few readers who thought my column about Trump was "too judgmental." They rebuked me with Jesus' warning to "judge not" and advised me not to "cast the first stone."

My response, not at witty as the others, is that I follow a Judean teacher who pronounced more than a few judgments.

He wasn't one to throw up his hands and say, "Hey, whatever floats your boat. Who am I to judge?" Actually he said, "The world is against me because I expose the evil behind its pretensions" (John 7:7).

As a person of this planet, it's essential that I make judgments. As a person of faith, my judgments must follow the guidelines of grace that require me not to judge the heart of another person.

"How do you balance grace and judgment?" you ask.

The answer might come from Judge Abner McCall, the late president of Baylor University, where I attended in the late 70s.

"When people ask about the difference between our Christian University and a secular one," he said, "I tell them this: If our professors give you a failing grade, they'll sit down and cry with you."

McCall was teaching Baylor students that professors are perfectly qualified to judge a student's work. However, with his reference to tears, McCall was saying this judgment was accompanied by an offer of grace after failure.

Being people of faith doesn't disqualify us from speaking on moral issues. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Spiritual folks are obliged to speak for those who have no voice. We are compelled to challenge the face of injustice.

For instance, if I say something like "The use of nuclear weapons is morally bankrupt," it's not a statement to diminish individuals or hold myself above them. This is my valid judgment or assessment. If you choose not to read my column after this, you too have made an assessment.

"Assessment" is a word that commonly used in the healthcare world where I've worked for more than 20 years. A few years ago, VA doctors diagnosed my brother as a diabetic. They were not passing judgment on him as a person. They were making an impartial assessment in which they extended the grace of treatment.

However, when he refused to take his medications, I told him that he was making a very bad decision. I was not making a judgment of his heart, but I made it clear that he was wrong.

A year later, he's taking his medications because judgments offered with grace often lead to recovery.

Pastor and theologian J.D. Greear put it best when he concluded his "Christianity Today" article on the subject of judgment.

"Don't judge others by withholding the truth. But don't judge them by speaking the truth without grace…. Truth without grace is judgmental fundamentalism; grace without truth is liberal sentimentality."

-----------------------------------
Email: comment@thechaplain.net. Voicemail (843) 608-9715 Twitter @chaplain Read past columns at www.thechaplain.net.

 

Attachment: