New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
Column for First week in November


Column:

Praying for Changes in Myself

Even as we were packing to return to the U.S.A. this month, I was already considering possibilities for our next adventure.

"I want to walk the Appalachian Trail next spring," I told my patient bride.

"I think your weekly running routine is depriving your brain of badly needed oxygen," she said.

"Besides," she added, "We are going to Honduras in January to spend 12 weeks helping our daughter establish children's libraries there. (See Chispaproject.org.)

I usually give my wife the stink-eye when she dismisses my ideas so quickly, but instead I broke into my best spirit-speak to tell her that she was unlikely to change my ideas on the subject.

"Do you recall that line in the Serenity Prayer that says, 'God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change and the courage to change the things I can?'"

She rolled her eyes at my elongated enunciation of the word "change." She read my mind. She's bright that way.

"I've prayed for the courage to change my lifestyle, and I did. So now I think I should go on a long contemplative walk."

"How old are you?" she asked.

I knew where she was trying to take our conversation, but I wasn't going there. I was on my way to the sporting goods store.

The problem was that I was doing what most people do when they spiritualize their language to justify their own desires. I was paraphrasing the third line of the prayer into something like, "God, help me change only what I want to change."

We can be pretty "courageous" (or in my case maybe foolhardy) when it comes to changing things we don't like. But the hardest part of the famous prayer is the first part: "Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change."

We can only pray the first part when we stress the word "accept" in our prayers. In doing so, we commit to a much more difficult course. It's a course I recommend to many who seek my counsel.

I once counseled a man who wanted advice on how he might persuade his wife to return home. "Concentrate on doing nothing," I told him.

"If you have a prayer of seeing her come home, you're going to have to focus on changing yourself, not her."

He seemed unimpressed at first, but he's back with his wife today.

Accepting that we are powerless to change others isn't easy. In fact, I'm rarely satisfied with that answer myself. In my family life, I'd like to force my son to find a job. In my professional life, I'd like a few of my harshest readers to love me or leave me.

When I committed both these concerns to prayer, guess what? The answer I heard was, "Do nothing. Accept it. There's nothing you can do."

The only changes we can really make are the changes we make in ourselves. If those changes are real, and not just simulated, they can have a lasting effect on people.

That night, I was lying in bed with my wife, still idealizing the hiking idea, when she asked me one last question.

"You obviously never finished the Serenity Prayer, did you?"

"Huh?"

"Did you pray the next line of the prayer that asks for wisdom to know the difference between acceptance and change?" She pronounced "wisdom" like it was a new concept to me.

She knew my real reward for my jogging routine wasn't the racing medals I could wear on the outside of my shirt, but what I felt on the inside of my body. She's a smart woman.

Still, I wasn't going to admit that to her. I kissed her goodnight. And then I gave her the stink-eye in the dark.

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New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
column for last week in October 2017


Column:

Editors,
I have a selfie picture of me with two of the people mentioned in the column. Let me know if you'd like to have them.


What do Europeans Think of America?

Last July, my wife and I put our worldly goods in storage and left for an extended stay in Brussels. Immediately upon our arrival, Belgians began asking me what Americans think of Europe.

Sheepishly, I admitted that many Americans likely share President's Trump understanding when he said in Atlanta last year, "Belgium is a beautiful city."

Clearly – and this is worth noting – Belgium is a country, not a city.

This month, as our travels took us beyond Belgium, I reversed the question and asked Europeans what they thought of America.

Nearly all answered that Americans should travel outside North America.

That should be easy because, according to the State Department, 53% of U.S.-born citizens hold U.S. passports.

No, not so much.

In his book, "America's Vacation Deficit Disorder," William Chalmers says most American passport holders limit travel to North America or their ancestral homes. He calculates that as little as 3% of us actually travel to another continent for business or pleasure.

So, in a sunny Beer Garten in Germany, I pressed for more specific answers to my question.

Becky and I were stumbling over a German menu when another diner offered to translate. Soon, we were pleasantly engaged in conversation with a 40-year-young public-property judge.

He was so surprised we retired at 60 years old that he began praising us as fine examples of American Capitalism.

"Look at you two! You're retired because you worked hard and saved. I can't do that because the German government takes half my wages. No matter how hard I work, I must keep working to get my pension at 65 years."

A few weeks ago, we moved to Southampton, England, where I met retired biochemist and current pastor, Peter Silley. He's no fan of American Capitalism.

Silley admitted that Brits "speak the same language," but he notes troubling differences.

"Brits are aligned to a European culture founded on social democracy. Our values run deep and underpin a concern for those less fortunate in our society. U.S. culture centers on the individual rather than societal values."

Silley warned, "This raises capitalism to a dangerous position. Unfortunately, I fear that the U.K. is now headed in the same direction, where capitalism rules. Is this really progress?"

Last week I visited a military museum in London, where I met Roger Howell and his younger 65-year-old brother, Chris.

Roger, is an Australian and former Royal Marine who sees himself to the "right of center." He's a fan of Mr. Trump's America and asked me to tell Americans, "You can't save the world, so you should spend more time and money saving yourselves."

He added: "I like you Americans, but your Electoral College is not representative of the people. It's time for change. Oohrah!"

Chris, a U.K. citizen, is concerned with the poverty he sees in America. He believes Americans tolerate a system where "40% of your country is living in a third-world lifestyle." He strongly believes that America should adopt the European "healthcare for all as an absolute minimum."

Chris spoke glowingly of America's five previous presidents who came together last week to raise money for hurricane damage in Puerto Rico, Florida and Texas. See www.oneamericaappeal.org.

However, he sees Donald Trump as "a collective embarrassment." Chris blames America's two-party political system for electing Trump, arguing that it's "broken and congress is corrupt."

Finally, my friend Osarumen Osama, a Belgian citizen born in Nigeria, says "America is a nation made up of some of the world's best aspects put together, which is its divine privilege."

Osama is a director at Brussels Serve the City, so he's qualified to add that American "…citizens could be more invested in each other, sharing more, creating their own future (without media and political distractions) and having more time for true living."
Fortunately, our president travels extensively, so he eventually got the Belgium capital name right – even if he did call Brussels a "hellhole."

I think he's wrong about that. But, hey, get a passport and come see for yourself.

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

 

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New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
Shorter version of column 4th sunday Oct 17


Column:

Editors: This is the shorter version. Please let me know if you want me to send a photos separately



A Walk in the Woods

Osarumen Osama works for a Brussels charity called Serve the City. Last month I asked him to take me to what remains of the famous refugee camp at Calais in Northern France.

"Are you sure you want to go?" he asked.

I lied and said Yes.

A few days later, we disembark the train in Calais and take a taxi to the camp. The French have officially closed the camps, so the ground that once housed tens of thousands of people, according to Care for Calais, an immigrant charity, now contains around 1,000 refugees. The majority are Eritreans, Ethiopians and Afghans, mostly men with a few isolated teens.

We randomly choose an immigrant standing about the entrance and ask him to escort us into the camp. He does. However, when we get inside, I don't see any offices or tents. I see only trucks dispensing potable water to a few dozen men filling their old plastic jars. There are portable toilets and showers as well.

This isn't a camp. These men are stragglers, those who have fallen between the proverbial cracks. Like the soldiers trapped at nearby Dunkirk in WW2, they can sometimes glimpse the Dover cliffs of freedom.

"Is this all of it?" I ask our unofficial guide.

He points into the forest not yet bulldozed.

"In there," he says. "Come."

Osama nods in agreement, whispering for me to stay close.

We walk through the woods along a muddy trail to find a dozen men smoking cigarettes, squatting around a campfire.

They give me an examining eye from my Keen® boots to my blue Gore-Tex® raincoat. I don't belong here. I'm an invader in their world who doesn't speak their language, literally or figuratively.

Gratefully, one man speaks English, so he translates the desires of the group. Many of them have been here for months and even years because they don't have the necessary immigration papers. They want to go to England or America in hopes of making more money.

Osama responds with a mixture of French and English, repeating what he often tells immigrants in Belgium. "England is overcrowded," he says. "Stay in France where some of you already know the language. Or go to Croatia or Kosovo where you can build your own dream and be rewarded for it."

It's a message many find unacceptable. They believe they'll find utopia in an English-speaking world.

We are interrupted by a man announcing the arrival of lunch trucks and take that as our cue to start our return trip home.

A month later, I'm living on the other side of the Channel in England where I daily encounter refugees that came through these camps. They're polite, curious, and hardworking. They're here to drive a taxi, start a kabob stand, or go to school. Some are professionals seeking national certifications to retain the profession they worked in their home country.

Sounds like many of the same reasons my ancestors settled in Texas.

As the Apostle Paul said, "But for the Grace of God, this would be me."

How can we help?

There are many ways to help migrants, and not just those in Calais. Most organizations are asking for volunteers, supplies, clothes and, of course, money.

You can help. Do your research. Present the needs to your organization or service group. If you are active in your church, encourage them to redirect their budget helping the immigrants and thus toward becoming the church God calls us to be.

The following is a list of organizations that are helping now:

http://care4calais.org/
http://www.utopia56.com/en
https://helprefugees.org/calais/
https://www.servethecity.net/
Unicef.org

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

 

Attachment:

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
Version 1 of 2 column for 4th Sunday in October 2017


Column:

Editors,

I have written a long and short version of this column to choose from. This is the 1000 word version. I will send the shorter version by 1700 EST on Tuesday.. I can also send photos if you request them.


A Walk in the Woods

Osarumen Osama works for a Brussels charity called Serve the City. Last month I asked him to take me to what remains of the famous refugee camp at Calais in Northern France.

"Are you sure you want to go?" he asked.

I lied and said Yes.

A few days later, with rain and winds inverting our umbrella, we boarded the Eurostar for the one-hour trip from Brussels to Calais. (Cal-A).

The small town of Calais plays a crucial part in international transportation. It's the gateway to England through the Chunnel, the longest undersea tunnel in the world. Trains dive through the opening at 100 mph and emerge in England within 35 minutes.

On that day, Osama and I are among a handful of passengers leaving the train before it continued to England. We hail a taxi to take us to the camp, but Osama asks our driver to stop a half-mile short because he wants me to gather some geographical perspective.

We step out onto a desolate road leading toward an industrial zone. We are standing light-years away from the French world of culinary delicacies and Riviera sun.

I squint at the miles of barbwire fence constructed to discourage refugees from stowing away on the trucks, ferries and trains. In the distance I see warehouses where semi trucks are offloading pipes and odd-looking parts. Bulldozers are overturning and grading the grounds as if for new construction. However, this is not a new construction. This is destruction.

The French have officially closed the camps, but bulldozers remain to sift and level mounds of remaining trash into smooth ground as if it never happened.


The ground that once housed tens of thousands of people, according to Care for Calais, an immigrant charity, now contains around 1,000 refugees. They are all living out of doors in Calais and Dunkirk. There is still another 500 in Brussels and over 1,500 in Paris. The majority are Eritreans, Ethiopians and Afghans, mostly men with a few isolated teens.

After a few moments of surveying, we lean into the wind and walk toward some buildings in the distance. Soon, we meet up with an Ethiopian man who tells us he's been in the camp for two years. Osama introduces me as a "priest" because it's a notion easily conveyed.

The man seems affable and escorts us into a clearing that he says is the camp. However, I don't see any offices or tents. I see only trucks dispensing potable water to a few dozen men filling their old plastic jars. There are portable toilets and showers as well.

This isn't a camp. These men are stragglers, those who have fallen between the proverbial cracks. Like the soldiers trapped at nearby Dunkirk in WW2, they can sometimes glimpse the Dover cliffs of freedom.

"Is this all of it?" I ask our unofficial guide.

He points into the forest not yet bulldozed.

"In there," he says. "Come."

Osama nods in agreement, whispering for me to stay close.

We walk through the woods along a muddy trail zigzagging through abandoned campsites littered with rubbish. We turn a bend to find a dozen men smoking cigarettes, squatting around a campfire.

They examine us from head-to-toe. I feel like invaders who obviously don't belong here. I'm wearing blue jeans, a blue Gore-Tex® raincoat and Keen® boots. I don't speak their language, literally or figuratively. My hope is that my presence conveys a comforting empathy.

Osama sports a dapper fedora crowning his big-collared leather coat that matches his black slacks. Still, his darker skin tone and his command of three languages inspire trust among the men.

Gratefully, one man speaks English, so he translates both the words and desires of the group. Many of them have been here for months and even years because they don't have the necessary immigration papers. They want to go to England or America in hopes of making more money.

Osama responds with a mixture of French and English, repeating what he often tells immigrants in Belgium. "England is overcrowded," he says. "Stay in France where some of you already know the language. Or go to Croatia or Kosovo where you can build your own dream and be rewarded for it."

It's a message many find unacceptable. They believe they'll find utopia in an English-speaking world.

We are interrupted by a man announcing the arrival of lunch trucks. International charities provide three meals a day and on this day, it's a group from England.

Osama and I take that as our cue to return to the train station for our trip home.

A month later, I'm living on the other side of the Channel in England where I daily encounter refugees that came through these camps. They're polite, curious, and hardworking. They're here to drive a taxi, start a kabob stand, or go to school. Some are professionals seeking national certifications to retain the profession they worked in their home country.

Sounds like many of the same reasons my ancestors settled in Texas.

As the Apostle Paul said, "But for the Grace of God, this would be me."

How can we help?

There are many ways to help migrants, and not just those in Calais. Most organizations are asking for volunteers, supplies, clothes and, of course, money.

You can help. Do your research. Present the needs to your organization or service group. If you are active in your church, encourage them to redirect their budget helping the immigrants and thus toward becoming athe church God calls us to be.

The following is a list of organizations that are helping now:

http://care4calais.org/
http://www.utopia56.com/en
https://helprefugees.org/calais/
https://www.servethecity.net/
Unicef.org

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

 

Attachment:

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
second column in Oct 2017


Column:

Vegas Reminds Me That I Am My Brother's Keeper

In the ancient biblical story of Cain murdering his brother Abel, Cain asks God, "Am I my brother's keeper?"

It's a question I can't help but wonder if Eric Paddock, the brother of Vegas shooter Stephen Paddock, has been contemplating. While I can't know Eric's anguish, I do believe we share a few things as they relate to being our brother's keeper.

First, I too have an older brother in Las Vegas whom I call by the nickname "Brotherman." I phone him every morning to talk to the kindest guy you could ever meet. He'd give you anything if you just asked him. We end our daily conversations with, "I love you."

However, Eric Paddock and I also share the fact that our brothers are delusional. Fortunately my brother's delusions became drastically noticeable. So, last year I literally became my brother's keeper with power of attorney and placed him in a senior-care facility. I also confiscated his only gun from his bedside stand.

Brotherman believes the earth is flat and that the government uses hurricanes as WMDs (Weapons of Mass Destruction). But worse yet, he believes that mass shootings are staged media events.

He gets these ideas from listening to the mentally deranged claims of Internet radio personality Alex Jones. With several million listeners, Jones is a conspiracy theorist who is the breathing definition of Fake News. Among other things, Jones questions whether the Sandy Hook massacre of kindergarteners actually happened. If you've not heard of Jones, you should. Donald Trump listens to him and has appeared on his show.

So, given my brother's tendency toward these Jones-inspired theories, my first reaction was to call and assure him that the Las Vegas shooting was a real-life incident. I was worried he might upset his caregivers or the other residents by questioning the reality of this atrocity.

He took a patronizing tone as he quoted more Internet conspiracy garbage. He believes that there were more shooters and vaguely implied FEMA's involvement. Before ending our conversation, he told me that he's feeling persecuted and is possibly being drugged by facility caregivers.

However, the most worrisome thing I have in common with Eric is that Brotherman can legally purchase dozens of guns. Gratefully, he's never had the money or the desire to make such a purchase. But he has a car and enough spending money from his disability check to buy at least one gun from a Wild-West Nevada gun show.
If we shared my home state of California, I might be able to prohibit my brother from making gun purchases. Under a California law passed in 2016, I could seek a temporary restraining order that would prevent him from owning a gun.

Unfortunately, he lives where poorly regulated gun shows and automatic weapon ranges are part of the daily landscape.

I had some hope for my brother in the commonsense gun regulation implemented by the previous administration. The directive prohibited the purchase of guns by people who are unable to work because of severe mental impairment. However, Trump repealed that rule on Feb. 28th.

Gratefully, my situation is different from Eric Paddock's in at least one way. My brother's behavior was evident. If Stephen Paddock had shown more obvious signs, I'm certain Eric would have taken steps to stop him.

Given that difference, I remain committed to being my brother's keeper. And it's that commitment which marks the distinction between just having a brother and being a brother.

I love you Brotherman!
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Attachment:

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
second column in October 2017


Column:

European Solutions to Common Annoyances

Occasionally a reader suggests that I offer a religious view on the division that entangles our nation. My response is that often our best spirituality can be found by unpacking its practical components.

To that end, I've made some observations during my extended stay in Europe that might help defuse some of our national disagreements.

For instance, road rage might be checked if we practiced the European method of passing other cars only while they are in the slow lane. Doing this means you aren't whizzing by someone on their visually restricted passenger side.

Also, does a slow or uncertain driver ever befuddle you? Maybe he's a new driver. It'd be great if we adopted the Irish practice of labeling the back window of student drivers with a large red "L" for learning, and newly licensed drivers with a large "N."

Best of all, Europe employs traffic cameras to identify traffic offenders and citations are sent by mail. Adopt this practice and police aren't making dangerous traffic stops.

Driving isn't the only thing that rages Americans. We detest any perceived intrusion into our personal space. Not so in Europe.

If you brush a passerby, you needn't utter so much as a "pardon me." In fact, during the two years I was stationed in Turkey with my family, I was only once asked for a pardon. A man profusely apologized when he bounced a cigarette butt he intended for the street off my son.

Personal space in Europe is defined as any unoccupied space. If there is an open sidewalk space, no mater what its size, you're entitled to it. We were in a nearly empty theater when a couple took the seats next to us. No worry.

However, restaurants will place a high regard on personal space. They encourage you to occupy your table long past your last bite of dessert. Signal them when you're ready for a check and your bill will exactly total the menu price because all prices include tax.

Meanwhile, in the U.S., the battle lines are drawn over the most personal of spaces – the toilet. Much animosity is expressed over who should enter restrooms marked men or women. Some argue for a traditional gender distinction based on safety. Others make a case for inclusivity based on self-identity.

No matter what bathroom you choose in Europe, you'll find an attendant who'll likely collect 75 cents for use of the toilets. At first I was annoyed by the practice, but now I'm impressed with how the attendants keep the bathrooms clean, stocked and safe.

Bathrooms are labeled as toilet or W.C for Water Closet, while the British call it a loo. While German men desperately hunt for the crude sign "pissoir," Belgian men look for relief in the public square urinal behind a half partition. Many restrooms maximize space through the use of a foyer where both sexes share the wash sinks.

But whatever a toilet is called or however it's used, Europeans make gender agreements a moot point with floor-to-ceiling toilet stalls. Better still, some places simply have two or three unmarked toilet rooms – fill in your blank. No fuss, no muss. No one questions who you are or how you accomplish your business.

These down-to-earth solutions are simple methods to employ before anger erupts. They are the practical side of Jesus' teaching that we call, "The golden rule." The modern Message Translation of his words are this: "Here is a simple, rule-of-thumb guide for behavior: Ask yourself what you want people to do for you, then grab the initiative and do it for them."

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