New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
First Column of Feb 2018


Column:

Assuming Your Role, but Shirk the Assumptions

Have you ever been mistaken for someone you're not?

It happened to me multiple times during my years as a hospital chaplain. That's because staff will assume that a necktie-wearing man is either a doctor or a salesman. They usually hope I'm a salesman because salesmen bring chocolate.

Not long ago, I was working as a hospice chaplain when I stopped to visit a patient in a local hospital. Before entering the patient's room, I paused at the nurses' station to gather some information about my patient.

A nursing student stood so quickly, I thought maybe I caught her sleeping on the job. "Good morning, doctor."

"Oh, I'm not a doctor," I said patting my necktie. "I just wear the tie."
My remark brought welcoming giggles from the other students.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said.

"I'm not," I added with a truthful smile.

I said that because I'm not disappointed that I am who I am. I'm not sorry that I don't hold the title of doctor.

Jesus also experienced a bit of identity confusion, causing him to ask his adoring disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" The boys reported the wild-eyed guesses they'd head, that Jesus was a ghost of an old prophet or even a lunatic.

Jesus brushed aside the hearsay and asked his students. "Who do you say that I am?"

Peter stood and set it straight. "You da' man!"

OK, he didn't exactly say that. Peter said, "You're the Christ."

Jesus responded to this astute conclusion in an astonishing way. He told them to not tell a soul.

Why would Jesus ask for such anonymity? Some scholars say that he was trying to avoid being crucified prematurely. I think it was much more.

I think Jesus had arrived at the moment in his life when he knew that he didn't need to "proclaim" who he was. His walk, his breath, his talk all exuded the confidence of one who was truly different. He knew his purpose, and he knew he was the only one who needed to feel contentment in that purpose.

Over the years, I've had glimpses of such contentment. One such moment was during my Ordination Council in 1981.

The council was an inquisitive group of ministerial peers who pitched random theological questions for 90 minutes. Finally, after I'd successfully navigated most of them, the council president concluded with a query.

"What," he asked, "will you do if this council refuses to ordain you?"

I told the council that even if they mistook me for someone who was not "called," I would continue to pursue the purpose God had for me. Even if they didn't affirm my call, I would continue to minister and share God's unending love with all.

They voted to ordain me, but I still encounter people like the innocent nurse who want me to be someone I'm not. When I meet those folks, I try to follow Jesus' teaching and not spend too much energy proclaiming who I am. Instead, I try to present myself as a person centered on who God wants me to be.

At the end of the day, assuming our roles in life doesn't mean we accept the assumptions of others. It means that our efforts are best spent in the role God gives us. .

However, just to be on the safe side, I always mentor my younger tie-wearing colleagues by encouraging them to bring chocolates to their favorite nurses at least once a year.

-------------------------------------------------------

Reach Norris Burkes through email at comment@thechaplain.net, by phone 843-608-9715 or on Twitter @chaplain.

 

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New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
Quick question


Column:

Editors,

How do you feel about me continuing to write on my Honduras trip? My style is to write what I'm living, but is the Honduran theme been too much? We come home April 1st

 

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New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
Column for last week in Jan 2018


Column:

Editors,

If you want pictures, please reply by email because I cannot attach them in this web-based email I use.


Generosity Inspires Chaplain to Pay it Forward
 
Justin is a 12-year-old student at Southwest Bilingual School in the high mountains outside La Esperanza, Honduras. Every weekday, he rides five miles on a school bus through twisted and rutted dirt roads.

The only thing that might prevent his journey is when heavy rains make it impossible for the bus to climb the 7% grade of cratered road. Maybe it's this tough terrain that inspired the school mascot to be named the Wildcats. 

Fortunately on this day, my daughter Sara is driving, leaving my wife and I to bounce in our seats like popcorn. We are carrying a hundred pounds of books from Chispa Project, a charity founded by Sara, to start children's libraries. The books comprise the second part of the 1,300 books provided from stateside donations.
 
Sara parks inside the school compound and we walk to the faculty lounge hoping to recruit help to unload. Inside, we meet Edmundo, a science teacher who's writing his lesson plans.

He's grateful to see us because Spanish books are rare and costly to purchase in-country. Most children grow up without a culture of reading in the home. 

"As a kid, I was bored with reading, "Edmundo says. "We had only reference books and I'd fall asleep reading them. The books you bring will inspire our students to read."

"Muchas Gracias," he adds.
 
"De nada" I say. Literally translated, "It's nothing," an informal expression for "You're welcome."
 
The vice principal, Corita Warner enters the lounge, a tall, take-charge American. She brings Justin and a gaggle of seventh graders to help unload.
 
We make our way to the library where the kids tear open the boxes, nearly inhaling the titles. One girl shrieks when she finds a Harry Potter book, while another begins devouring Moby Dick. 
 
Justin focuses on Steven Covey's book, "Seven Habits of Highly Effective Teens." Justin speaks excellent English because he was born in the USA but returned to Honduras when he was seven.

He asks if the book will help him succeed. I allow a "maybe," and then point out Frank McCourt's Pulitzer Prize-winning book, "Angela's Ashes." Justin asks if McCourt's Pulitzer won him a lot of money.
 
It's a typical kid question, more so from those without money. Southwest may be a private school, but money remains a concern for the middle-class parents who send their children. 
 
Corita tells me later that the school was founded by three couples who wanted to bring subsidized education to the town. Many kids attend with scholarships and the founders are working toward offering full scholarships to all their students.
 
I'm not sure why, but their generosity brings moisture to my eyes and memories to my heart. 
 
I recall my growing up in a pastor's home, living on the edge of poverty. Mom made many meals of beans, cornbread and even fried baloney. We did without many things, but no one ever told me that I couldn't have a good education.
 
In 1975, I was accepted to Baylor University, a Texas Baptist school. Through the generosity of anonymous benefactors, I took home a BA degree four years later. The generosity continued into seminary where I graduated in 1983 with a tuition-free Master's degree. These opportunities came from those who thought education was worthy of their contributions.
 
Their charity recalls Jesus' words: "From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded." In other words, we must "Pay it Forward."
 
A few days later as we load up to leave, several children gather to thank us. My eye moisture returns. All I can manage to say is, "De nada," because for all that's been given to me, it's nothing for me to do this for Justin and his classmates. 
 
Go Wildcats!  See more at www.chispaproject.org/southwest 

Reach Norris Burkes at comment@thechaplain.net, (843) 608-9715 or @chaplain.

 

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Whoops -- one more thing to add

View this email in your browser Hey faithful readers,   I've pasted my upcoming column below this message, but first, I must apologize that I've sent two emails in the same week. I promise to send only one per month, but this extra one was necessary to answer the questions you asked about how to help Chispa Project.   First, if your church is considering a mission trip here, please contact my daughter Sara@chipspaproject.org. She can make the way much smoother for your church. Folks here tell me that her Spanish is perfect. Learn more or like her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/chispaproject     However, most of you can help through a small donation, either a one time or monthly – and I mean small – just $10 a month makes a difference. If you'd like to help us get books to Honduran children go to www.chispaproject.org/donate.   If you'd rather mail a check, send it to:   Chispa Project 3816 10th Ave  Denver, CO 80206   PS: We need 100 donors to commit $50 a month to reach our annual budget. Recurring donors make our projects stable and sustainable.   Thanks so much – preview next week's column below   Blessings Chaplain Norris       Can Anything Good Come from Honduras?   I graduated from high school in Atascadero, California. In the 1970s, Atascadero was a town without a stoplight or chain stores. However, we had a lot of churches and liquor stores. Truthfully, it fit the Spanish meaning of "miry place," roughly translated as "pigsty."   Of course, our rivals from neighboring schools described the town much like our president allegedly did in reference to Haiti, El Salvador and Africa as "expletive-hole" countries. Supporters contest the exact wording, but not his disparagement of the developing world.   About the time he was speaking so eloquently, my wife and I deplaned in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. We are here in this Central American country to bring children's books for Chispa Project, a grassroots charity founded by my daughter, Sara, to start children's libraries in rural Honduras.   We hit the ground running, with little time for jet lag as my daughter put her "favorite volunteers" to work. We've sorted through dozens of boxes of books shipped down to Honduras on pallets. We've shopped for library decorating supplies, made copies for the teacher workshops and tested paint samples for the library murals we will paint next week.   This is my third trip to Honduras, and I don't find it to be a ****hole. In fact, I've encountered dozens of people with whom I'd proudly share my country. I've met printers, bakers, and restaurateurs, parking attendants, taxi drivers, pastors and teachers, and I find that they want things similar to what I want. They want fulfillment in their work, loyalty in their friends, love in their home and faith in their hearts.   Just because they often have less money than U.S.-ers, doesn't mean they consider themselves to be a stink-hole country. It's quite the opposite. Many find their true wealth in their love of family, friends and faith. They proudly cherish their culture, passionately defend their belief and productively contribute to their country.   Still, some people living in more posh surroundings continue to think of places like this as pigsties. When they do, I have to wonder how they would've welcomed Jesus had they'd lived in first-century Palestine.   Jesus came from Nazareth, likely a 400-person dot on the map. Neighboring cities held the town in high contempt, demonstrated in the question asked by Nathanial, a disciple recruit: "Can anything good come from Nazareth?"   Today, we call towns like Nazareth "backwoods, trailer parks, Hicksville," and yes, even "pigsties." Perhaps we'd do better to heed the words of Rev. James Martin, editor of America, a Jesuit Magazine, who says "God, in other words, came from a 'sh#*hole' place, and he pointedly asked us to welcome him whenever he appeared as a 'stranger,' or as one of our 'least' brothers and sisters."   Yes, Mr. President, you're right that we need people from developed countries like Norway who can help us. But we also need – all caps, NEED – people who can help us value life outside of ourselves. We need to welcome others, if for no other reason than for the way helping each other transforms us into the people God would have us be.   However, I must confess that I may have used the word "sinkhole" upon hearing that one of my suitcases had sunken into the abyss of the San Salvador airport. Gratefully, Avianca Airlines quickly reunited us with the lost suitcase crammed with donated books.   Next week, we will place these books in the hands of children who demonstrate a voracious appetite for learning. Many of you have been a part of that, and we thank you from God's country, Honduras. Follow us here at facebook.com/chispaproject or on our personal blog, burkesbums.org.   ------------------------------------------- Email: comment@thechaplain.net. Voicemail (843) 608-9715 Twitter @chaplain. PO Box 247 Elk Grove CA 95759 Read past columns at www.thechaplain.net.               Copyright © *2018* *|thechaplain.net|*, All rights reserved. Our mailing address is: norris@thechaplain.net Want to change how you receive these emails? You can update your preferences or unsubscribe from this list.

This email was sent to burkesn.norris@blogger.com why did I get this?    unsubscribe from this list    update subscription preferences Norris Burkes · PO Box 247 · Elk Grove, CA 95759 · USA

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
3rd column of Jan 2018


Column:

Editors -- During the time I'm in Honduras I will have many pictures. Please reply by email if you want me to send them to you.


Chaplain Books it to Honduras

I graduated from high school in Atascadero, California. In the 1970s, Atascadero was a town without a stoplight or chain stores. However, we had a lot of churches and liquor stores. Truthfully, it fit the Spanish meaning of "miry place," roughly translated as "pigsty."

Of course, our rivals from neighboring schools described the town much like our president allegedly did in reference to Haiti, El Salvador and Africa as "expletive-hole" countries. Supporters contest the exact wording, but not his disparagement of the developing world.

About the time he was speaking so eloquently, my wife and I deplaned in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. We are here in this Central American country to bring children's books for Chispa Project, a grassroots charity founded by my daughter, Sara, to start children's libraries in rural Honduras.

We hit the ground running, with little time for jet lag as my daughter put her "favorite volunteers" to work. We've sorted through dozens of boxes of books shipped down to Honduras on pallets. We've shopped for library decorating supplies, made copies for the teacher workshops and tested paint samples for the library murals we will paint next week.

This is my third trip to Honduras, and I don't find it to be a ****hole. In fact, I've encountered dozens of people with whom I'd proudly share my country. I've met printers, bakers, and restaurateurs, parking attendants, taxi drivers, pastors and teachers, and I find that they want things similar to what I want. They want fulfillment in their work, loyalty in their friends, love in their home and faith in their hearts.

Just because they often have less money than U.S.-ers, doesn't mean they consider themselves to be a stink-hole country. It's quite the opposite. Many find their true wealth in their love of family, friends and faith. They proudly cherish their culture, passionately defend their belief and productively contribute to their country.

Still, some people living in more posh surroundings continue to think of places like this as pigsties. When they do, I have to wonder how they would've welcomed Jesus had they'd lived in first-century Palestine.

Jesus came from Nazareth, likely a 400-person dot on the map. Neighboring cities held the town in high contempt, demonstrated in the question asked by Nathanial, a disciple recruit: "Can anything good come from Nazareth?"

Today, we call towns like Nazareth "backwoods, trailer parks, Hicksville," and yes, even "pigsties." Perhaps we'd do better to heed the words of Rev. James Martin, editor of America, a Jesuit Magazine, who says "God, in other words, came from a 'sh#*hole' place, and he pointedly asked us to welcome him whenever he appeared as a 'stranger,' or as one of our 'least' brothers and sisters."

Yes, Mr. President, you're right that we need people from developed countries like Norway who can help us. But we also need – all caps, NEED – people who can help us value life outside of ourselves. We need to welcome others, if for no other reason than for the way helping each other transforms us into the people God would have us be.

However, I must confess that I may have used the word "sinkhole" upon hearing that one of my suitcases had sunken into the abyss of the San Salvador airport. Gratefully, Avianca Airlines quickly reunited us with the lost suitcase crammed with donated books.

Next week, we will place these books in the hands of children who demonstrate a voracious appetite for learning. Many of you have been a part of that, and we thank you from God's country, Honduras. Follow us here at facebook.com/chispaproject or on our personal blog, burkesbums.org.

-------------------------------------------
Email: comment@thechaplain.net. Voicemail (843) 608-9715 Twitter @chaplain. PO Box 247 Elk Grove CA 95759 Read past columns at www.thechaplain.net.

 

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Chaplain Norris Books it to Honduras

Here's the latest column from Norris Burkes! View this email in your browser Readers: This is my first email to you in three years, so I hope that tells you how important this is.  Please read my latest column and consider how you might help in even the smallest of ways.  Chaplain's Daughter Sparks International Change   By the time you read this column, my wife and I have landed at one of the most treacherous airports in the world in one of the most dangerous cities in the world. The final approach is so nightmarish that passengers often post harrowing videos of their flight through a twisted ravine before landing on a way-too-short runway.   The airport is in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. With 1.3 million people, the city is best known for its crime, corruption and high murder rate.   Becky and I will spend ten weeks here to help our daughter Sara with the humanitarian project she started in 2014.   Sara named her undertaking the Chispa Project, pronounced cheez-pah, meaning, "spark" in Spanish. Honduran people use the word to describe people with spark or drive. Sara chose the name because she believes that education must spark the sustainable change Honduras needs.   Chispa has a simple mission – start children's libraries and equip them with quality books in Spanish. She accomplishes the mission in three ways: she solicits donations, coaches their teachers, and sponsors international volunteer projects to Honduras.   Sara's secret to success is in her ability to inspire the communities to design, fund and run their own libraries. Local people do the work and supply a small portion of the funding which helps assure that the library will be maintained.   Still, Sara must operate within a tight budget. She depends on small monthly donations from her relatives and friends. After she pays rent, she lives on less than $500 a month. This year, she went into debt as she financed much of the Chispa expenses herself.   Nevertheless, the project works because hers is a "micro-charity," meaning that small donations make a huge difference. So far, she's received enough donations to send over 10,000 books to more than 50 different schools.   Yes, her parents worry. It's dangerous work. Tegucigalpa regularly places in the top-ten murder-rate cities in the world. She drives some very dangerous roads that are sometimes plagued by highway robbers. She rents a truck when she can, but her tight budget often sends her riding a used motorcycle to transport books in a 50-pound backpack.   I sometimes wonder what sparked Sara to work in such a dangerous place. I suspect it's the same spark God gives us all, but it's always accompanied by a choice. We can snuff it out or we can we use the spark to ignite the kind of change this world needs.     So what spark will Becky and I take to Honduras? Well, for starters, we've lugged 250 pounds of books. Additionally, I suspect, Sara will have her mom teach a bit while I may be preach some in the local churches.   But we'll certainly rent a truck, drive the dangerous roads and distribute books to smiling, giggling children. And of course, I'll be writing this column each week.   Last year, Chispa became a 501(c)3 not-for-profit organization with a governing board. Sara says if I prove my worth next month, she'll make me a board member. Whoopee. I can't wait.    If you want to join her board too, or donate, or land a mission team on the most maddening runway in the world, visit www.chispaproject.org/donate   ------------------------------------------- Email: comment@thechaplain.net. Voicemail (843) 608-9715 Twitter @chaplain Read past columns at www.thechaplain.net.             Copyright © 2018 Norris Burkes, All rights reserved. You signed up to be on Norris' list! Our mailing address is: Norris Burkes PO Box 247 Elk Grove, CA 95759 Add us to your address book unsubscribe from this list    update subscription preferences

https://www.postandcourier.com/columnists/chaplain-s-daughter-sparks-international-change-in-honduras/article_30b10b70-f582-11e7-b31b-879861e4ac39.html?utm_medium=social&utm_source=email&utm_campaign=user-share

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:



Column:

Editors,

If you'd like to consider pictures for this column, please request them by email reply or text 916.813.8941

Chaplain's Daughter Sparks International Change

By the time you read this column, my wife and I will have landed at one of the most treacherous airports in the world in one of the most dangerous cities in the world. The final approach is so nightmarish that passengers often post harrowing videos of their flight through a twisted ravine before landing on a way-too-short runway.

The airport is in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. With 1.3 million people, the city is best known for its crime, corruption and high murder rate.

Becky and I will spend ten weeks here to help our daughter Sara with the humanitarian project she started in 2014.

Sara named her undertaking the Chispa Project, pronounced cheez-pah, meaning, "spark" in Spanish. Honduran people use the word to describe people with spark or drive. Sara chose the name because she believes that education must spark the sustainable change Honduras needs.

Chispa has a simple mission – start children's libraries and equip them with quality books in Spanish. She accomplishes the mission in three ways: she solicits donations, coaches their teachers, and sponsors international volunteer projects to Honduras.

Sara's secret to success is in her ability to inspire the communities to design, fund and run their own libraries. Local people do the work and supply a small portion of the funding which helps assure that the library will be maintained.

Still, Sara must operate within a tight budget. She depends on small monthly donations from her relatives and friends. After she pays rent, she lives on less than $500 a month. This year, she went into debt as she financed much of the Chispa expenses herself.

Nevertheless, the project works because hers is a "micro-charity," meaning that small donations make a huge difference. So far, she's received enough donations to send over 10,000 books to more than 50 different schools.

Yes, her parents worry. It's dangerous work. Tegucigalpa regularly places in the top-ten murder-rate cities in the world. She drives some very dangerous roads that are sometimes plagued by highway robbers. She rents a truck when she can, but her tight budget often sends her riding a used motorcycle to transport books in a 50-pound backpack.

I sometimes wonder what sparked Sara to work in such a dangerous place. I suspect it's the same spark God gives us all, but it's always accompanied by a choice. We can snuff it out or we can we use the spark to ignite the kind of change this world needs.

So what spark will Becky and I take to Honduras? Well, for starters, we've lugged 250 pounds of books. Additionally, I suspect, Sara will have her mom teach a bit while I may be preach some in the local churches.

But we'll certainly rent a truck, drive the dangerous roads and distribute books to smiling, giggling children. And of course, I'll be writing this column each week.

Last year, Chispa became a 501(c)3 not-for-profit organization with a governing board. Sara says if I prove my worth next month, she'll make me a board member. Whoopee. I can't wait.

If you want to join her board too, or donate, or land a mission team on the most maddening runway in the world, visit www.chispaproject.org.

-------------------------------------------
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:
First column of 2018


Column:

Chaplain's Wife Misinterprets Dying Breath

Hospice chaplain Dale Swan has always been clear with his wife, Jill, about how he wants to die.

"If I get sick and can't feed myself or make my own decisions, please don't let them put in a breathing or feeding tube. Let me go peacefully."

Jill, a CPA who is used to calculating the options, responded in the way many families do: "But I don't want you to starve to death."

Dale reassured his wife of 34 years that his hospice colleagues would be there for her and wouldn't let him suffer.

Dale is a 58-year-old avid cyclist who showed no signs of impending problems until one evening this summer. He was watching TV from his recliner, eating a veggie burger and sipping a beer, when he was hit with troubling stomach pains.

He took some antacid and told his wife he was going to lie down. When Jill checked on him an hour later, she found his pain intensifying. She suggested a doctor, but Dale declined, instead making a restroom visit that brought only mild improvement.

An hour later, Jill heard Dale moaning with extreme pain. She insisted on taking him to the ER, but Dale countered by asking her to call 911.

When paramedics arrived they began assessing pain even as they were speculating it was a heart attack. Within a few minutes, EMT's placed him on a gurney and loaded him in their ambulance. Beside him, they hung an IV drip of Fentanyl, a strong opiate for pain control.

The ER doctor ordered blood tests, a CT scan and a sonogram. Dale was suffering from pancreatitis, but staff could find no cause. They ruled out stomach blockage, gallbladder problems and even alcohol abuse. Dale's pain level was rising to alarming levels, with no apparent diagnosis.

Nurses admitted Dale to a room, ordered that he have no food for four days, and administered Dilaudid. However, once inside the room, the pain medication slowed his respiration to six breaths per minute. Dale was rapidly loosing consciousness.

Hospital staff suspected an overdose and instructed Jill to keep her husband awake or they'd have to give him Narcan, a drug that reverses opioid effects.

"If that doesn't work," they grimly warned, "we'll have to insert a breathing tube down his throat."

Jill remembered Dale's instructions and shocked the staff by saying, "Oh no, he doesn't want that! He's always said to let him die peacefully."

Jill felt prepared. She and Dale had discussed many of the crucial questions involving the end of life and placed those answers into an advance directive, (often called a Living Will).

The Advance Healthcare Directive is a document that we should all have. It instructs doctors what we want done if we became incapacitated. Without the directive, doctors are obligated to do everything possible to save our life – even if "everything" means a painful delay of our inevitable death.

Fortunately, the medical staff knew this wasn't a moment to give up on a healthful and strong patient. They helped Jill understand that Dale's document didn't apply to situations where a full recovery could be logically anticipated.

While Dale has fully recovered and returned to work, the happy couple is taking no more chances. Dale's given Jill more detailed instructions. And Jill, ever the logical number cruncher, is reviewing their life insurance policies – just in case.

------------------------------------------------

More information on state-specific advance directives is available at www.caringinfo.org. Email me at comment@thechaplain.net. Voicemail (843) 608-9715 Twitter @chaplain Read past columns at www.thechaplain.net.

 

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