Will your man lose next week?

View this email in your browser Prepare to Lose   Next week, your favored man is going to lose this presidential race – at least that's the statistical probability for about half of those reading today's column.   The loss may well send you into distress, despair, and disappointment as you endure hoots, hollers and honking horns from the winning side.    But it doesn't have to be that way.    Election losers needn't join an apocalyptic chorus of weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth. Losers needn't behave like, well, LOSERS!   In an election where opponents are disparaged as losers, it may be helpful to recall the 2008 concession speech delivered by John McCain. The classy discourse showed us not just how to survive a political loss, but how to encourage all Americans to thrive.   McCain began by conceding that "the American people have spoken, and they have spoken clearly." He endorsed Barak Obama as the "president of the country that we both love."   The Arizona senator praised his opponent for "inspiring the hopes of so many millions of Americans, who had once wrongly believed that they had little at stake or little influence in the election of an American president."   Speaking five years before Black Lives Matter, McCain declared that Americans "…must recognize that though we have come a long way from the old injustices that once stained our nation's reputation and denied some Americans the full blessings of American citizenship, the memory of them still had the power to wound."   The former POW possessed a full understanding of "wounds" as he urged all  Americans "… to find ways to come together, to find the necessary compromises, to bridge our differences and help restore our prosperity, defend our security in a dangerous world, and leave our children and grandchildren a stronger, better country than we inherited.    "Whatever our differences, we are fellow Americans. And please believe me when I say no association has ever meant more to me than that."   McCain admitted that "It is natural tonight to feel some disappointment, but tomorrow we must move beyond it and work together to get our country moving again."   Referring to his loss, McCain told supporters, "And though we fell short, the failure is mine, not yours." The audience didn't agree that he was at fault and gave him friendly boos. He dropped his palms downward to quiet the crowd.   He continued for several paragraphs thanking family, friends and "…the American people for giving me a fair hearing."    But it was the power I heard in closing remarks that moved me to tears.   McCain was no loser when he said, "I would not be an American worthy of the name, should I regret a fate that has allowed me the extraordinary privilege of serving this country for a half a century.    "Today, I was a candidate for the highest office in the country I love so much. And tonight, I remain her servant. That is blessing enough for anyone and I thank the people of Arizona for it.   "Tonight — tonight, more than any night, I hold in my heart nothing but love for this country and for all its citizens, whether they supported me or Sen. Obama, I wish Godspeed to the man who was my former opponent and will be my president."   The humble senator recognized that he and his opponent "… had and argued our differences, and he has prevailed. No doubt many of those differences remain."  But, in the end McCain pledged to President-elect Obama "…to do all in my power to help him lead us through the many challenges we face."   Closing with "I call on all Americans," McCain said, "… to not despair of our present difficulties but to believe always in the promise and greatness of America…."   Our losing candidate and his supporters can find no better guidance for the American people than McCain's final words to losers.   "Americans never quit. We never surrender. We never hide from history. We make history. Thank you, and God bless you, and God bless America.   Transcript of John McCain's Concession Speech Video of McCain concession speech. _____________________________ Read more columns or buy my books on my website www.thechaplain.net.  Like my page at  https://www.facebook.com/theChaplainNorris. Contact me at 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or via voicemail (843) 608-9715. Twitter @chaplain.               Copyright © 2020 Norris Burkes, All rights reserved. You signed up to be on Norris' list! Our mailing address is: Norris Burkes 10566 Combie Rd Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 Add us to your address book Want to change how you receive these emails? You can update your preferences or unsubscribe from this list.

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
Column for Oct 30-31/Nov 1


Column:

Prepare to Lose

Next week, your favored man is going to lose this presidential race – at least that's the statistical probability for about half of those reading today's column.

The loss may well send you into distress, despair, and disappointment as you endure hoots, hollers and honking horns from the winning side.

But it doesn't have to be that way.

Election losers needn't join an apocalyptic chorus of weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth. Losers needn't behave like, well, LOSERS!

In an election where opponents are disparaged as losers, it may be helpful to recall the 2008 concession speech delivered by John McCain. The classy discourse showed us not just how to survive a political loss, but how to encourage all Americans to thrive.

McCain began by conceding that "the American people have spoken, and they have spoken clearly." He endorsed Barak Obama as the "president of the country that we both love."

The Arizona senator praised his opponent for "inspiring the hopes of so many millions of Americans, who had once wrongly believed that they had little at stake or little influence in the election of an American president."

Speaking five years before Black Lives Matter, McCain declared that Americans "…must recognize that though we have come a long way from the old injustices that once stained our nation's reputation and denied some Americans the full blessings of American citizenship, the memory of them still had the power to wound."

The former POW possessed a full understanding of "wounds" as he urged all Americans "… to find ways to come together, to find the necessary compromises, to bridge our differences and help restore our prosperity, defend our security in a dangerous world, and leave our children and grandchildren a stronger, better country than we inherited.

"Whatever our differences, we are fellow Americans. And please believe me when I say no association has ever meant more to me than that."

McCain admitted that "It is natural tonight to feel some disappointment, but tomorrow we must move beyond it and work together to get our country moving again."

Referring to his loss, McCain told supporters, "And though we fell short, the failure is mine, not yours." The audience didn't agree that he was at fault and gave him friendly boos. He dropped his palms downward to quiet the crowd.

He continued for several paragraphs thanking family, friends and "…the American people for giving me a fair hearing."

But it was the power I heard in closing remarks that moved me to tears.

McCain was no loser when he said, "I would not be an American worthy of the name, should I regret a fate that has allowed me the extraordinary privilege of serving this country for a half a century.

"Today, I was a candidate for the highest office in the country I love so much. And tonight, I remain her servant. That is blessing enough for anyone and I thank the people of Arizona for it.

"Tonight — tonight, more than any night, I hold in my heart nothing but love for this country and for all its citizens, whether they supported me or Sen. Obama, I wish Godspeed to the man who was my former opponent and will be my president."

The humble senator recognized that he and his opponent "… had and argued our differences, and he has prevailed. No doubt many of those differences remain." But, in the end McCain pledged to President-elect Obama "…to do all in my power to help him lead us through the many challenges we face."

Closing with "I call on all Americans," McCain said, "… to not despair of our present difficulties but to believe always in the promise and greatness of America…."

Our losing candidate and his supporters can find no better guidance for the American people than McCain's final words to losers.

"Americans never quit. We never surrender. We never hide from history. We make history. Thank you, and God bless you, and God bless America.

_____________________________
Find a link to the transcript and video of McCain's speech on my website www.thechaplain.net or https://www.facebook.com/theChaplainNorris. Contact me at 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or via voicemail (843) 608-9715. Twitter @chaplain.

 

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Are You on the A List?

View this email in your browser Irrational Labels Limit Relationships   In a time before COVID, I found myself in a boarding line clinching the coveted A-lister pass issued by Southwest Airlines. The pass granted me privileged first-choice seating while B- and C-listers scrambled for significance.   Inside the plane a flight attendant cheerfully suggested a front seat.     "Wonderful. Looks like I'll be flying first class."   Not to be out wisecracked, he offered me a coloring book, wings and Oreos.   Kind of surly, I thought. Didn't he realize he was talking to an A-lister?"   I took the aisle seat and soon a woman scooted past into the window seat.  After several minutes, the plane took off with no one between us.    We engaged in the routine seatmate-stranger conversation. She proudly announced she raced cars with her boyfriend and they'd just won first place in three races.   Race car drivers! Impressive! Definitely an A-list person. Eventually, she put her racing monologue in idle long enough to ask what I did.   "I'm a healthcare chaplain."    "Oh," she said apparently doubting my qualifications as an A-lister and a human being.   After a pause, she added eleven words demoting me to her F list.   "My ex-husband is a hospital chaplain. He left me for God."   I offered condolences, mentioning that I'd been happily married for over three decades.   "Well, we were married 32 years, so…"   She left me twisting in a 650-knot headwind and then offered, "He is Southern Baptist. What are you?"   May Day. May Day. My ego rapidly depressurized as this woman tried to morph me into someone she hated.   Fortunately for me, I found some relevant questions tucked beneath my chaplain cap.     "Where has all this left you spiritually?" I asked.   "Nowhere. I have nothing to do with church."   "Church is only a vehicle for spirituality. I hope you've not given your ex the power to dismiss your spirituality."   She returned a pained look suggesting she'd cordoned off her life from anything remotely reminding her of the person who'd brought her so much pain.   Suddenly, our conversation was interrupted by the overhead announcement of final approach. I adjusted my seatback and stowed my belongings.    But more than that, I quietly admitted to myself that I had once followed a similar strategy. A few years ago, I had let rumors spread by a Lutheran colleague spin me into a major depressive episode. Despite the fact that God showed me a U-turn out of my depression, I still found it hard to appreciate Lutherans.   I tried building an emotional dam that would prevent me from drowning in Lutherans. I assumed there could be no good Lutherans, so I had crossed these people off my "A" list.   However, when one works as an interfaith chaplain, meeting Lutherans is a fairly common experience. In addition to many Lutheran patients, God placed a Lutheran supervisor in my life who became a caring colleague. Furthermore, my daughter did the unthinkable and enrolled in a Lutheran college.   I relearned the truth that people can't be grouped or cloned. Attempting to judge people by A, B or C lists is a futile way of building our own private biosphere of quarantined living. Life needn't be a set of hostile, rerunning tapes that doom us to poor relationships.   Our conversation remained engaging and before we knew it our plane landed, and we were taxiing to the terminal. Our attendant issued the perfunctory warning to be careful unloading the overhead bags as they may have shifted in flight.   During our short taxi, the woman's expressions exhibited a new friendliness, suggesting a willingness to consider that I might not resemble the hurtful person she knew.    Once on the ground, I stood to open the overhead as the woman braved a venerable request.   "Do you have a card?" she asked. "I'd like to stay in touch."    "Sure," I said.   Our seats had given her the perfect opportunity to target a Southern Baptist Hospital chaplain, but in the end, she chose a different path. Her opinion of chaplains, like the luggage in the overhead had indeed shifted during flight.   -----------------------------------------------------   Visit www.thechaplain.net or https://www.facebook.com/theChaplainNorris. Contact me at 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or via voicemail (843) 608-9715. Twitter @chaplain.                       Copyright © 2020 Norris Burkes, All rights reserved. You signed up to be on Norris' list! Our mailing address is: Norris Burkes 10566 Combie Rd Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 Add us to your address book Want to change how you receive these emails? You can update your preferences or unsubscribe from this list.

New Column From Norris Burkes

Subject:
column 23-25 Oct 2020


Column:

Irrational Labels Limit Relationships

In a time before COVID, I found myself in a boarding line clinching the coveted A-lister pass issued by Southwest Airlines. The pass granted me privileged first-choice seating while B- and C-listers scrambled for significance.

Inside the plane a flight attendant cheerfully suggested a front seat.

"Wonderful. Looks like I'll be flying first class."

Not to be out wisecracked, he offered me a coloring book, wings and Oreos.

Kind of surly, I thought. Didn't he realize he was talking to an A-lister?"

I took the aisle seat and soon a woman scooted past into the window seat. After several minutes, the plane took off with no one between us.

We engaged in the routine seatmate-stranger conversation. She proudly announced she raced cars with her boyfriend and they'd just won first place in three races.

Race car drivers! Impressive! Definitely an A-list person. Eventually, she put her racing monologue in idle long enough to ask what I did.

"I'm a healthcare chaplain."

"Oh," she said apparently doubting my qualifications as an A-lister and a human being.

After a pause, she added eleven words demoting me to her F list.

"My ex-husband is a hospital chaplain. He left me for God."

I offered condolences, mentioning that I'd been happily married for over three decades.

"Well, we were married 32 years, so…"

She left me twisting in a 650-knot headwind and then offered, "He is Southern Baptist. What are you?"

May Day. May Day. My ego rapidly depressurized as this woman tried to morph me into someone she hated.

Fortunately for me, I found some relevant questions tucked beneath my chaplain cap.

"Where has all this left you spiritually?" I asked.

"Nowhere. I have nothing to do with church."

"Church is only a vehicle for spirituality. I hope you've not given your ex the power to dismiss your spirituality."

She returned a pained look suggesting she'd cordoned off her life from anything remotely reminding her of the person who'd brought her so much pain.

Suddenly, our conversation was interrupted by the overhead announcement of final approach. I adjusted my seatback and stowed my belongings.

But more than that, I quietly admitted to myself that I had once followed a similar strategy. A few years ago, I had let rumors spread by a Lutheran colleague spin me into a major depressive episode. Despite the fact that God showed me a U-turn out of my depression, I still found it hard to appreciate Lutherans.

I tried building an emotional dam that would prevent me from drowning in Lutherans. I assumed there could be no good Lutherans, so I had crossed these people off my "A" list.

However, when one works as an interfaith chaplain, meeting Lutherans is a fairly common experience. In addition to many Lutheran patients, God placed a Lutheran supervisor in my life who became a caring colleague. Furthermore, my daughter did the unthinkable and enrolled in a Lutheran college.

I relearned the truth that people can't be grouped or cloned. Attempting to judge people by A, B or C lists is a futile way of building our own private biosphere of quarantined living. Life needn't be a set of hostile, rerunning tapes that doom us to poor relationships.

Our conversation remained engaging and before we knew it our plane landed, and we were taxiing to the terminal. Our attendant issued the perfunctory warning to be careful unloading the overhead bags as they may have shifted in flight.

During our short taxi, the woman's expressions exhibited a new friendliness, suggesting a willingness to consider that I might not resemble the hurtful person she knew.

Once on the ground, I stood to open the overhead as the woman braved a venerable request.

"Do you have a card?" she asked. "I'd like to stay in touch."

"Sure," I said.



Our seats had given her the perfect opportunity to target a Southern Baptist Hospital chaplain, but in the end, she chose a different path. Her opinion of chaplains, like the luggage in the overhead had indeed shifted during flight.

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

Visit www.thechaplain.net or https://www.facebook.com/theChaplainNorris. Contact me at 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or via voicemail (843) 608-9715. Twitter @chaplain.

 

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Are You Eating Worms?

View this email in your browser Diet of Worms for the Persecuted   Did you ever sing that classic campfire song, "Nobody Likes Me"?   "Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,  Guess I'll go eat worms.  Long, slim, slimy ones,  Big, fat, juicy ones,  The kind that wiggle and squirm."   The lyrics from yesteryear's campfires were sung in a self-deprecating style poking fun at campers who complained of mistreatment.    Today however, some churches use the song's persecutorial theme as a cry for sympathy against the quarantine rules restricting indoor gatherings.     I hear the tune being promoted by the anti-masking pastors like a whining parody: "Nobody likes Christians. Everyone hates us. Let the coliseum lions loose."   Promoting this repeating chorus on the national level is Sean Feucht, a volunteer worship leader at Bethel Church in Redding, Calif. Feucht considers the ban on public gatherings to be an oppression of the church, so he's hosting a series of nationwide "worship protests."   Last week, without permits, Feucht gathered an estimated 9,000-10,000 worshippers on the courthouse steps in downtown Nashville. Tweeting in all caps, Feucht declared – "THE CHURCH WILL NOT BE SILENCED!"   The Nashville health department said they were "…investigating and will pursue appropriate penalties against the organizer." My question is: Does legal prosecution amount to "religious persecution"?   Because if it truly constitutes persecution, then I have good news for Sean. Jesus promised his followers a great reward for their suffering. But if Sean is bucking for that incentive, he should read the fine print.    In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."   The little word "because" is a stipulation often overlooked. Jesus grants the reward only when suffering comes "because of righteousness."   This means that when religious folks claim to be persecuted, they must first ask themselves if their suffering is a direct result of doing virtuous things.   Churches can only know righteous suffering when they stand alongside those who are hurting. It's the kind of suffering Jesus endured when he took a stand against the religious hypocrites. It's the kind of anguish endured by Martin Luther King Jr. and Mother Theresa.    We cannot say we are suffering for righteousness when our fellowship-hall donut hour is canceled for COVID. Wearing a mask for outdoor worship is not biblical suffering.     In other words, as long as cities are closing convention halls, skating rinks, nail salons and city council meetings, the church cannot claim its persecution badge.    So Sean, in the meantime, even though your website promises more city protests in upcoming weeks – please – this is no time to get the band back together.    If you won't take my word for it, you might consult the COVID "No-masker-pastors" who suffer not because of their righteousness, but because of their foolishness.    Founding pastor of San Antonio's Cornerstone Church, John Hagee, 80, famous for declaring God's judgment in natural disasters has tested positive for the coronavirus.   Greg Laurie, 67, pastor of Riverside Calif., megachurch, Harvest Christian Fellowship positively resisted worship restrictions, but is now COVID-positive.   Paul Van Noy,59, the "no masker" pastor of Candlelight Church in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, is happy to be home after doctors initially saw only a 20% chance of survival.   Van Noy survived but Erin Hitchens did not. The 46-year-old pastor from West Palm Beach had dismissed COVID as just the flu. She met her maker last month.   Pastor Mark Price, 62, of Martinsville, Va., also joined the celestial choir. Even with open-air worship, 59 of his church members tested positive for the coronavirus, and 15 of them were hospitalized.   In the meantime, the same song, second verse, is being sung by pastors like Todd Bell of Maine.  Social Media critics dubbed him "Pastor COVID" after he officiated a wedding where the virus sickened over a hundred and killed eight.   Pastor Rob McCoy of Godspeak Calvary Chapel in Southern California's Ventura County is willing to pay a $500 daily fine to defy a court order against indoor worship for his 1,500-member congregation.   Pastor Rob admits that 158 deaths in his county are "tragic," but he maintains a greater injustice in "the measurers of our government."    With 13,423 active coronavirus cases in his county, clearly Pastor Rob McCoy is not the one suffering for righteousness sake. But if he thinks it might help, I'm happy to send him a bucket of worms.   ----------------------------------------------   Visit www.thechaplain.net or https://www.facebook.com/theChaplainNorris. Contact me at 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or via voicemail (843) 608-9715. Twitter @chaplain.                     Copyright © 2020 Norris Burkes, All rights reserved. You signed up to be on Norris' list! Our mailing address is: Norris Burkes 10566 Combie Rd Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 Add us to your address book Want to change how you receive these emails? You can update your preferences or unsubscribe from this list.