Don't forget to download my free Kindle book this weekend
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Subject:
Labor Day weekend column
Column:
FOR THE LOVE OF BOOKS
I'll begin my annual book review column with a random question: Can you guess what the biggest natural disaster was to ever hit California? If you said the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, you'd be wrong.
If you'll read "The Big One: How Natural Disasters Have Shaped Us and What We Can Do About Them," veteran seismologist Lucy Jones will tell you that California's biggest disaster was the 43-day nightmare floods of 1862.
I most appreciated the book for its spiritual insight. Jones begins by examining man's need to eliminate randomness from life. She says we abhor unpredictability because we are left feeling vulnerable to unforeseen events.
To combat our distaste for randomness, man developed some toxic religious beliefs that associated natural disaster to sin and equated salvation to moral purity.
The book recounts the lessons learned from the world's most disruptive natural disasters and is a call to action for the reader to think in new ways about the big ones to come.
"Educated," by Tara Westover, is the memoir of a woman raised by Mormon survivalists in the mountains of Idaho, where her mother mixes herbs for healing as her father salvages things from the junkyard.
One of six children, Westover grows up isolated by parents who forbid healthcare and formal education. Nevertheless, she teaches herself enough mathematics and grammar to be admitted to Brigham Young University and eventually Harvard and Cambridge.
Throughout her incredibly odd ordeal, Westover is abused by an older sibling, but manages to come out of it all fiercely loyal to family.
I loved the book because it portrays a woman who finds a way to overcome toxic religious teaching and still salvage a sense of faith.
I thoroughly enjoyed "Fly Girls: How Five Daring Women Defied All Odds and Made Aviation History" by NPR and Boston Globe reporter, Keith O'Brien. The book interweaves the story of five women, Amelia Earhart and her four lesser-known contemporaries, Florence Klingensmith, Ruth Elder, Ruth Nichols and Louise Thaden.
A few of them will fly and die as they compete against men in the extremely dangerous national air races of the 1920s and 1930s.
The book follows the women as they are praised, but mostly ridiculed for their "silly efforts" to compete in a man's world. This cadre of women fly their way through the glass ceiling and shatter the prejudice that schemed to keep them grounded.
I loved the book because these tenacious, trail-blazing women show what female flyers faced not so long ago. Moreover, the book will likely leave you wondering if the aviator boys club is really a thing of the past.
Finally, for the love of books, I want to give you all a free digital copy of my books.
No strings. Really free. The books are available to ANYONE who goes to Amazon.com during this Labor Day 3-day weekend and downloads them in the Kindle format.
You can download "Heroes Highway" about my deployment to the Air Force Field Hospital in Iraq or "Thriving Beyond Surviving," a compilation of my columns. My book, "No Small Miracles" is also in digital format but is only available for purchase.
If you prefer a signed paperback version, you'll need to email me or send $15 to the address below.
Finally, if you really love books, you probably love libraries. We need five more volunteers to join us March 8-15, 2020 in Honduras where we will help Chispa project establish children's libraries. Write to me or sign up at www.chispaproject.org/volunteertrip.
If you can't go, but you can contribute (or if you have already contributed) $100 toward our $5,000 goal to fund a library, please contact me and I'll send one of my books to you for no charge.
Email me at comment@thechaplain.net or write me at Norris Burkes 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602. Make contribution checks payable to "Chispa Project." OR leave a voicemail at (843) 608-9715. I will return your call.
Bless all of you for loving books and helping make the Chispa Project such a great success!
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Subject:
Release date for column 23-25 August
Column:
The High Calling of Hospice Work
Last year, I came out of early retirement - perhaps better characterized as "premature retirement" – to accept part-time work as a hospice chaplain.
In my new role, I often hear three common reactions when I tell friends I work for hospice.
The reaction that always surprises me is, "Where is your hospital?"
While hospice sometimes happens in a hospital, my work happens in a patient's home. I join a team of social workers, nurses, aids and volunteers who schedule individual appointments to provide comfort to people in their final six months of life.
My employer is housed in a typical office building where I go for meetings or to schedule my patient appointments. But by midmorning, I'm driving a maze of roads.
I crisscross three counties to find rural homes settled along creeks, sheltered under oaks and pines or nestled in the hollows of the Sierra Nevada foothills. Yes, the view from my personal cubical is often stunning.
The second reaction is more of an assumption.
"I'll bet you get a lot of chances to tell people about Jesus."
While Jesus is definitely a friend of mine, my job doesn't come with the supposition that everybody wants him to be their friend.
If I used the occasion of a person's pending death to push my view of eternity, I'd be quickly fired for proselytizing the dying.
However, that's not to say I must remain silent about my faith.
I begin my visits by asking patients if they practice any sort of religion or spirituality, giving them opportunity to share their beliefs. In turn, some patients ask me about my faith.
For instance, one patient told me she had no religious beliefs, but she was "ready." I discovered that she'd been studying the Christian faith and wanted to know more.
But by far, the most common reaction I get from friends is unnecessary sympathy. Folks say things like, "Your job must be so sad." Or, "I can't say I envy you."
My response might surprise you.
I tell them, "It's not really so hard." I often add that it's much easier than the years I spent as a hospital chaplain.
That's because hospital patients rarely understand they are dying. If they do, they may not be ready to talk about it, especially to a stranger.
Hospice patients enter our program with a full-on acknowledgement that they expect to live less than six months. They are often ready to talk about, even confront, death.
They don't live in denial, but they are definitely still living. And by living, I mean they are conversing, connecting and conspiring with us to live out their last days in dignity.
Perhaps it's ironic that in this job with the dying, I rarely feel sad. Even as I watch them live their last moment on earth, I feel nothing but honor to be present for that sacred occasion.
During that time, I often join hands with the family and the patient and clear my throat to say one final blessing. When the patient is Christian, the blessing may sound like this.
"May God take you in his hands and pull you up close to his heart.
May you hear the beating of his heart and the direction of his will.
"Moreover, may you hear the familiar voice of your loved ones and the tender call of God's invitation,
"And may you experience the love of both.
"Amen."
With that, our patient may shut their eyes, allowing me the opportunity to paraphrase the Apostle Paul from 2 Timothy 4:7 "You have fought the good fight. You have finished the race. You have kept the faith."
As I drive to see my next patient, I often think about my friends who say this job would be too sad for them.
"Sad" is the last word I'd use.
It's not sad. It's an honor. It's a calling.
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Last week, Chaplain Norris' readers contributed more than half of the $5000 needed to help the Chispa Project start a library in Honduras. There are five slots remaining for the humanitarian trip in April 2020. If you can help, go to www.chispaproject.org/thechaplain or contact Chaplain Norris at comment@thechaplain.net or 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or voicemail (843) 608-9715.
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Column for 17-19 August 2019
Column:
Don't Go Away Mad, Just Go Away
Has someone ever become so exasperated with you that they stormed off in an angry fit? Sure. It happens to all of us.
But if you were fast on your feet, just before they were out of range, you may have fired off that old insult, "Don't go away mad, just go away!"
I'm sure I've never said that outright, but in my twenty years of pastoring churches and chapels, I can recall at least three occasions when I shared the sentiment.
These three people threatened to drop out of my congregation if I didn't change some of my practices. When I didn't change, they withdrew their membership records and promised they wouldn't be back.
The first person was the retired pastor in the church I was serving in Stockton, Calif. He approached me very upset over the new time-saving method I initiated for communion. My plan used our ushers to pass the communion cups down one row while simultaneously passing the wafer tray down the other row. Then, they reversed the process until everyone was served.
The pastor emeritus felt that the method was confusing for his aging wife, so he promised if I kept my new practice, he'd leave, never to return. He was so loved, that I knew others would likely follow him.
Nevertheless, I did, so he walked.
The second person was a member of the Air Force chapel where I served in Mountain View, Calif. The octogenarian protested my sermons about tithing. (Evangelicals consider tithing a Biblical requirement to give 10 percent of one's income to Christian charities or churches.) He didn't feel the teaching was appropriate in a government-sponsored chapel filled with retired congregants.
It didn't matter to the man that our chapel used the tithes for educational material, giving the remainder to charity. He promised that if I ever repeated this preaching mistake, he'd never return to the chapel.
Of course, I did it again, so of course he didn't stay.
The third person was a young mother who became troubled with the sad pediatric stories I told in my sermon illustrations (many of which became my first book, "No Small Miracles"). She told me that if I kept telling the stories, she wouldn't return to chapel.
By now you likely see the pattern in my stubbornness. I kept telling the stories, so she didn't stay.
It's not unusual for parishioners to disagree with their spiritual leader. The Bible has several examples of it, but most especially in Jesus' pesky disciple named Peter.
When the authorities came to arrest Jesus, Peter drew his sword and slashed off the ear of one of the arresting soldiers. Pete was a loyal parishioner, but like my congregants, he definitely had his own ideas on how things ought to be run. The problem was that his plan contradicted Jesus' plan.
Now I don't tell this story to compare myself to Jesus. I cite it because it shows how inevitable it is for people to get sideways with others in their faith community. I don't find fault with those who find it necessary to leave their church. It's probably our nature to seek more agreeable environments when things become uncertain.
Nevertheless, it's good to remember that a faith community should be a place where people are allowed to practice their faith. "Practice" being the operative word here. We won't always get it right, but nothing should keep us from trying.
"It's hard," you say. I know it is. But Christianity teaches that our faith needs to be only the size of a minuscule mustard seed. Once we find that bit of faith, we may begin to move mountains.
I'm glad I can report to you that my three congregants were grounded enough in their faith to avoid becoming spiritual dropouts. They found new communities and presumably more pliable preachers.
Now if I can just find a more pliable congregation – or in my case, a more pliable readership – it would be a perfect world.
But again, probably not.
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Contact Chaplain Norris at comment@thechaplain.net or 10566 Combie Rd.
Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or voicemail (843) 608-9715.
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Subject:
Column for 9-11 August
Column:
COME FLY WITH ME
I know you're busy, so in today's column I ask for only a few minutes to consider two questions.
First question: Feel like taking a trip with me?
If so, I'm inviting you to join my wife and me as we return to Honduras March 8-15, 2020.
"Why would I use my vacation dollars to go to a third-world country?" you ask.
Well, if you've been following my column the last five years, you know I've been to Honduras several times to help the Chispa Project start libraries in public schools.
Chispa Project is a 501(c)3 started by my daughter, Sara, to share the choice of education. It's pronounced cheez-pah, meaning "spark" in Spanish. It's a word Hondurans use to describe people with spark or drive. And what is better than education to spark sustainable change?
I know a lot of my readers have that kind of spark because last year 12 of them volunteered to go and returned with life-changing experiences. Half of them will return this year as veterans. (Ask me for references.)
Chispa has a simple mission: sponsor children's libraries and equip them with quality books in Spanish by working side by side with Honduran community leaders and educators.
In the 60 schools where Chispa is established, their secret to success is building alliances with the local communities to design, fund and manage their own libraries. The local people raise a symbolic portion of the funding because self-help insures sustainability and ownership.
Chispa Project, like Hondurans, wants to see children educated so they can grow up with their families and have choices in their future. They want to see Honduran children dreaming the American dream.
No, not the U.S. dream, but the true American dream that belongs to all people everywhere. It's a God-given belief that all people should have the power to prosper anywhere through hard work and community that isn't stifled by lack of health care, stolen tax money or violence.
But most of all, I see Hondurans working for a better education. Their public schools are overcrowded, underfunded and poorly staffed. Children are required to buy costly uniforms and have little hope of progressing past sixth grade because advanced education requires expensive private schools.
Now, I'm guessing you have questions like "What will I do in Honduras?"
As a volunteer, you will paint, label and inventory books and help with the library inauguration festival activities and decorations. You do not need to know Spanish or have any great art skills, just enjoy working with kids!
So if the answer is "yes," write me at the address below or go to this website, Chispaproject.org/volunteertrip for all the details and applications.
If you can't go, consider this Second question: Would you become one of 50 people who will give $100 this year to help fund a library with 1,000 books? Chispa will match your donation dollar for dollar. Write me at the address below or go to thechispaproject.org/thechaplain.
Finally, I've had people tell me that the Chispa project struggles against impossible odds. "Why do you do it?" they ask.
Melissa Rush, a returning volunteer from Charleston, sums it up the best. "The end result proves it's worth the risk. We need to risk it for the children. Risk being afraid. If the children can read a book and see something beyond their neighborhood, I can put up with discomfort. We come for a week, but they have a lifetime."
If you can help, email me at norris@thechaplain.net or leave a voicemail at 843-608-9715. 10566 Combie Rd Suite 6643 Auburn CA 95602
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