New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
Early submission of November 3/4 column


Column:

EDITORS - I'm submitting this column early because I'm traveling. It will go in your November 3/4 edition.


God's love too large to be stuffed into your pocket

I have some great readers who sometimes disagree with me, but will only rarely become disagreeable. However, once in a great while I get a letter reeking of discontent.

Last week, a Mansfield, Ohio, reader accused me of being a political writer because I urged readers to vote for candidates who display competence and integrity. The woman argued issues I've never raised by ranting against pro-lifers and democrats. She even spouted an anti-gay view that included an anatomical explanation. Wowzer!

She closed with a polite request: "Please quit your day job and go work for the Democrat party, but don't be surprised when you finally stand before judgment and you end up in hell."

I'm always amazed when someone seeks to discount my faith, my journey, my God by lobbing a few unfounded accusations. I mean, the Bible itself is written by various characters. Like them, I write from my point of view, but still only manage to reveal slivers of God's qualities.

The crazy thing is that since we've learned to condense our religious books into pocket-size versions, some people, like this woman, have the mistaken impression that God can also be condensed into our pockets. I don't know about you, but I don't think God lives in anyone's pocket.

Matter of fact, I think God prefers more open-air spaces, like a home with a recliner where he can stretch out.

I think faith is about inviting God into our house, into your house and mine. It's about giving God the room to become who God needs to be in the different places in which He lives.

Why do folks sometimes expect God to act the same way in every "house?" I mean, I don't act the same way at my friends' apartments as I do at my aunt's ranch. When I go to a friend's place, we sit on the couch and drink soda.

When I go to my favorite aunt's farmhouse outside of Waco, we talk about books and children and cattle. Mostly we talk about the heat and the previous night's rain. We go to bed right after the weather report and get up in the morning and eat Czechoslovakian Kolaches.

The point is there's a different Norris who visits his aunt's house than the Norris who burps carbonated soda at his friend's flat. Nevertheless, both my friend and my aunt urge me to make myself at home. That means they like who I am and they enjoy seeing more of that person. The feeling is mutual.

God enjoys seeing each of us the way we are. I think that's one of the reasons God doesn't get bored.

All that said, I know it can be a nice feeling to walk into church and find a bunch of folks who believe mostly how you believe. I do it every Sunday. I walk in and know that many of the people believe as I do and we take Communion to celebrate our common belief.

But at the end of the day, you and I both have to re-enter a world where God has chosen many domains in which to live, and the celebrations of life we make together must outweigh our many differences.

As for my email critics, I must accept that some of them exercise in various ways. I exercise by running, while some of them get their exercise by jumping to conclusions.
________________________________________
Comment at (843) 608-9715 or comment@thechaplain.net or @chaplain Facebook: chaplainnorris. Norris is also available for public speaking.

 

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New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
column for 27/28 October 2018


Column:

What Really Scares you?

With trick-or-treaters donning their scariest costumes in just a handful of days, I propose we play a version of the Twenty Questions game.

I introduce these questions under the heading, "What is it that really frightens you?"

For instance, are you afraid of the dark? Are you terrified of miniature goblins and monsters? Or are you just hoping to keep your home safe from these tricksters?

Hopefully, you've outgrown such fears, but maybe you still have some phobias of the everyday nature. For instance, do you dread the upcoming holidays with the in-laws? Or do you share with me the universal fear of public speaking?

If those things don't bother you, maybe you're ready to address your deeper fears.

Are you afraid of losing someone you love? Or does the possibility of your own demise frighten you to death?

When I feel afraid or anxious about something, I use a two-point checklist to uncover my pressing issues.

First, I ask myself, "What is the most terrifying part of my fear?"

Much of the time, my response reveals a deeper sense of helplessness.

It's the same feeling I hear expressed by hospital patients who confess that waiting is the scariest part of their illness. They say they'd cope better if they knew their future and could prepare for it. The fear they are voicing is "powerlessness."

I address the fear of being powerless with the first two steps from the 12-step groups.

Step one: "Admit you are powerless."

Step two: "Believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us."

But the most important question I ask myself is, "What would I do if I were not afraid?"

Many of my readers will recognize this question from the book "Who Moved my Cheese?" by Dr. Spencer Johnson.

I like the question because I believe that deep down we know what we would do if we weren't so afraid. We know what we want.

Maybe we want something relatively simple like self-improvement. We ask ourselves if fear wasn't such a showstopper, could I go back to school? Could I take just one step toward fitness? I did both of these things in 2012. I earned a Masters of Fine Arts in nonfiction writing, and I took up golf and running, eventually finishing two marathons.

But these are surface fears. To grow, we must ask harder questions.

Are we afraid to confront the bullies in our lives?

Perhaps we are dealing with an abusive spouse. Or maybe we struggle with an adult child who's boomeranged yet again. Is this the moment we'll choose to face our fears and evict him or her?

Or possibly, will you muster the strength to confront your foul boss? If you weren't so afraid you'd lose your job, would you, could you speak up for yourself?

Still, the scariest thing you could possibly list has got to be forgiveness.

What would happen if you used Halloween as an occasion to forgive someone?

As a chaplain, I've visited many terminal patients. They never told me they weres "afraid" they hadn't spent enough time in the office or made more money.

No, they wished they hadn't been too scared to express love. They wished they hadn't been so hard on people and had chosen forgiveness over hate instead.

Mahatma Gandhi said: "The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong."

I suspect he is right.

The Apostle Paul completes that sentiment in 2 Timothy 1:7. " For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind."
_____________________
Email Norris at comment@thechaplain.net. Facebook: chaplainnorris Voicemail (843) 608-9715 or PO Box 247 Elk Grove, Calif. 95624. See more at www.thechaplain.net

 

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New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
spelling correction of "Publicly" and rewrite graph #13


Column:

Who Will You Vote For?

The signs are popping up in my Auburn neighborhood. Our mailbox overflows and the robocalls light up the evening. It's election time in Placer County.

"I'm wading through the material trying to make the right choice, but it's a formidable process," I confessed to a neighbor.

"I just try to vote for the Christians," she said.

"Yeah? How do you know they're Christians?"

"They say they love God and they are anti-abortion," she said.

I took a hard look at my Fitbit. It just felt like it was time for me to go jogging. I wanted to check my calendar too. Maybe I had an appointment, somewhere I needed to be.

Before we vote for the candidate with Jesus in her pocket or the one kneeling with a televangelist under glaring camera lights, maybe we should think this through.

Let's pause to ask two questions concerning the candidate who publicly professes his or her religion.

First, let's ask what it looks like for a candidate to be spiritual or religious. Is one religious just because he goes to church or his wife is a stay-at-home mom? Does his clean living tell us everything about his faith?

Perhaps, but I'm thinking that sometimes a deeper faith is uncovered by in their failures. For instance, what did the candidate do when he lost the last election? Or if he has publicly "sinned," what has he done to confess and make restitution?

Maybe faith is best revealed when one does the hard thing. He makes an unpopular stand with his constituents. Perhaps he stays with a wife who's been arrested for drugs. Or he supports a son who's come out as gay. Someone taking this course of action will demonstrate that faith runs a strong parallel with integrity.

Yes ma'am, a strong faith will help a candidate be a good person, but his or her faith insinuates little about their level of competence.

That's why I suggest we also ask the second question of competence.

After all, I think most of us would rather hire a capable plumber than one who hangs a Fish sign on his truck. It's nice to employ someone with both attributes, but I'd rather have a working faucet than a praying plumber.

In that same respect, I'll forgo a religious politician who parades his personal faith for his own good, and I will vote for one who will guarantee that "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof."

My dad taught me the lesson of competence the day my siblings asked my parents a difficult question. "Who will raise us if something happens to you?"

"Your Uncle Lowell will raise you," my dad revealed.

Questions populated our faces like chicken pox gone amuck. Our uncle was a smoker, drinker and cusser. It seemed likely that he'd never darken a church door.

My dad patiently explained that while his brother wasn't one to display his faith in a "Baptist way," he would make a disciplined and competent parent. "He will make certain you are in church."

We had expected to live with one of our church-going aunts, but our father's will cast a vote for competence, over religion.

So, my new neighbor friend, I'll be praying for our candidates, but I'll not vote for someone primarily because they proclaim to support the Christian agenda. I'll be voting for integrity and competency. I hope you will too.
_________________________________________
If you want Norris to speak at your church or organization, contact him for details at (843) 608-9715 or comment@thechaplain.net or @chaplain

 

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New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
column for Oct 20/21 2018


Column:

Who Will You Vote For?

The signs are popping up in my neighborhood. Our mailbox overflows and the robocalls light up the evening. It's election time.

"I'm wading through the material trying to make the right choice, but it's a formidable process," I confessed to a neighbor.

"I just try to vote for the Christians," she said.

"Yeah? How do you know they're Christians?"

"They say they love God and they are anti-abortion," she said.

I took a hard look at my Fitbit. It just felt like it was time for me to go jogging. I wanted to check my calendar too. Maybe I had an appointment, somewhere I needed to be.

Before we vote for the candidate with Jesus in her pocket or the one kneeling with a televangelist under glaring camera lights, maybe we should think this through.

Let's pause to ask two questions concerning the candidate who publically professes his or her religion.

First, let's ask what it looks like for a candidate to be spiritual or religious. Is one religious just because he goes to church or his wife is a stay-at-home mom? Does his clean living tell us everything about his faith?

Perhaps, but I'm thinking that sometimes a deeper faith is uncovered by in their failures. For instance, what did the candidate do when he lost the last election? Or if he has publically "sinned," what has he done to confess and make restitution?

Maybe faith is best revealed when one does the hard thing. He makes an unpopular stand with his constituents. Perhaps he stays with a wife who's been arrested for drugs. Or he supports a son who's come out as gay. Someone taking this course of action will demonstrate that faith runs a strong parallel with integrity.

Yes ma'am, a strong faith will help a candidate be a good person, but his or her faith insinuates little about their level of competence.

That's why I suggest we also examine the competence of the one we vote for.

After all, I think most of us would rather hire a capable plumber than one who hangs a Fish sign on his truck. It's nice to employ someone with both attributes, but I'd rather have a working faucet than a praying plumber.

In that same respect, I'll forgo a religious politician who parades his personal faith for his own good, and I will vote for one who will guarantee that "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof."

My dad taught me the lesson of competence the day my siblings asked my parents a difficult question. "Who will raise us if something happens to you?"

"Your Uncle Lowell will raise you," my dad revealed.

Questions populated our faces like chicken pox gone amuck. Our uncle was a smoker, drinker and cusser. It seemed likely that he'd never darken a church door.

My dad patiently explained that while his brother wasn't one to display his faith in a "Baptist way," he would make a disciplined and competent parent. "He will make certain you are in church."

We had expected to live with one of our church-going aunts, but our father's will cast a vote for competence, over religion.

So, my new neighbor friend, I'll be praying for our candidates, but I'll not vote for someone primarily because they proclaim to support the Christian agenda. I'll be voting for integrity and competency. I hope you will too.
_________________________________________
If you want Norris to speak to your church or organization, contact him for details at (843) 608-9715 or comment@thechaplain.net or twitter @chaplain

 

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New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
column for Oct 13/14 2018


Column:

Five Questions to Ask Someone About Their Spiritualty

More than a few times, I've introduced myself as chaplain to a patient only to hear him respond, "I'm an atheist"

"Tell me more," I say.

"I don't believe in a genocidal god who wipes out people."

"I don't believe in that kind of god either," I offer. "Under your definition, maybe I'm an atheist too."

My response often disarms a person long enough to suspend debate and allow us to engage in a meaningful dialogue about their personal spirituality.

I suspect that many of you would like to have a consequential conversation about the divine but have trouble finding a way to initiate it.

As a chaplain who's served in both the military and healthcare worlds, allow me to offer a few suggestions I've found to be helpful through the experience.

First, begin with an open-ended and inclusive question. I often ask, "Do you have any particular religious or spiritual beliefs?"

I want people to tell me how they see the world outside their sphere of influence. Their answer tells me if they see purpose and design in their world, or if they consider everything a spinning accident.

Unless they tell me outright that they are religious, I don't ask what church they attend. That communicates a presumption that the person must be like me. In worst case, the person feels shame for not being like me.

You might also ask something like the following:

"Where do you go to reconnect with the holy?"

I ask this because you learn a lot about folks when they tell you where they go to meet the holy. Some people attend church to reconnect; others lie on the beach or hike in the forest. Some of my friends play golf.

When I need contemplative time, I find a lake, pool, beach or waterfall. My friend Tamara Chin calls these places a "God spot," a physical place where you feel God's presence.

For you, maybe this place is a field, a mountain, a space in your home or a place of worship. Mostly, it's where you find a moment of peace and presence outside yourself. Wherever it is, one needs to find their "God spot" and go there often.

If you want to move the conversation to a personal place, ask folks what they are praying for. Or, to avoid parochial divisions, I amend that to, "What are you hoping for?"

Tell me what you are really hoping or praying for, and our conversations avoid religious debates and move into the deeply personal. We disclose our hurts and we open ourselves to healing.

Which leads me to ask, "How does forgiveness work within your beliefs?"

Jesus taught us to pray, "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." The question of forgiveness surpasses religious division. No matter what our individual ideas are about the eternal, forgiveness will spawn profound spiritual healing in all our lives.

My last query is the one all of us, religious or not, wonder about from time-to-time: "Do you think this life is our end?" Or, "What do you see happening after this life?" This question is the great equalizer. It humbles both the inquisitor and the responder.

Finally, a warning: The sure-fire way to implode your inquisitive efforts is to use these questions to debate with people or to prove your brand is the right one.

Proverbs 15:14 says, "The heart of him who has understanding seeks knowledge, But the mouth of fools feeds on foolishness."

If you seek understanding, I suspect you'll find that all people – both the atheist and the church-goer are spiritual. We are all seeking answers to the questions of life's purpose and I pray we will find unity in our search.

_____________________
Email Norris at comment@thechaplain.net. Voicemail (843) 608-9715 or PO Box 247 Elk Grove, Calif. 95624. See more at www.thechaplain.net

 

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New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
First column in October 2018


Column:

WEDDING FEE PAID IN FULL

With more than 35 years in full-time ministry, I've performed scores of weddings. In the initial planning stages, the groom will often raise the awkward question about my fees. 

For me, this moment is about as tricky as asking a waitress to decide her own tip. I sometimes try to defuse the monetary strain with a joke. Like, "Pay me whatever you think she's worth, sir." Boo-hiss. A real Grandpa joke, I know. 

However, it's never my fee discussions that generate the most discomfort; it's the fashion in which the gift is presented to me. 

In 1986, a groom paid me $35 to perform my first wedding. I should have framed the check, but I deposited it instead. The bank promptly returned it, charging me an insufficient funds fee of $15.

Talk about an uncomfortable moment. I had to tell the poor groom that the check he wrote on his new joint account was rubber and he needed to cough up the cash to cover it, plus fees.

In another case, the groom sent me to the bride's dressing room to collect my check. My knock brought a not-fully clothed woman to the door. As I averted my gaze, the bride wrote the check against the door jam. She paused only long enough to repeat the awkward question, "How much do you charge?"

When another groom arrived late with a keg of beer in his pickup bed, I rushed him into the dressing room to give last minute instructions.

At the appointed time, I opened the sanctuary door a sliver to see my wedding coordinator giving me the high sign to begin. I motioned the men to follow me out toward the altar. With my hand on the door knob, the groom reached over my shoulder and closed the door.

With one hand holding the door shut, he presented me with a $100 bill, adding the salutation, "Here ya go, bud!"

With our decorum shattered, he rushed our party into the ceremony, me still holding a crumpled C-note. 

But occasionally, I will perform a ceremony gratis.

Some years back, a VA nurse sent me to visit an Army veteran in his 50s. He was small in stature and weak in the face. Sitting beside him, a slight, pale woman held his hand under the bedcover.

"Your nurse tells me you want to get married," I said.

The couple locked their starry eyes, nodding in affirmation.

"When?" I asked.

"Now would be good," he said.

"Why now?" I asked.

"I'm dying," said the patient. "Lung cancer." 

His response was brutally honest. Silence flooded the room. 

The bride cleared her throat, draining the last of the discomfort.  "Today seems like the right time."

I gave a hard swallow and looked at my watch. "Now is good."

By late afternoon, I stood again before the couple with a dozen staff members as witnesses. The bedridden groom wore a rose on his chest. The bride managed to freshen her look with a little makeup and a discounted bouquet from the hospital gift shop.

A few minutes into the ceremony, I asked the couple to repeat after me their promise to stay together "in sickness and in health…till death do us part."

Without hesitation, they echoed the traditional vows. Suddenly, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

"How much do we owe you?" The new bride asked.

I smiled. "What's he worth to you?"

Priceless. 

"No charge," I said. 

Promising one's love is always risky, but this couple seemed to appreciate that truth. They knew what sickness and health meant. And a few months later, she learned what it meant to be parted by death.

At the end of the day, they'd stood "before God and this company" to declare their eternal love with his literal dying breath. Somehow, I think they understood the cost better than most. 

 

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