Column for syndication -- Feb 25 2022

In the Name of Religion

 

As Russia invades Ukraine, I'm reminded of the warning Jesus expressed in Matthew 24:6 that the end of days will be filled with "wars and rumors of wars."

 

I wish the invasion was only a rumor, but it's clearly a reality.

 

The only consolation I have is -- and it's a shallow one -- so far this isn't a conflict likely to be blamed on religion.

 

I say that because it seems that whenever war is contemplated, religion is accused of providing the kindling. 

 

There's always someone who resurrects the tired logic by claiming, "There's been more killing perpetrated in the name of religion than for any other cause."

 

I wish I had the column-writing skills to react to this statement as well as Rabbi Alan Lurie who writes that "… an objective look at history reveals that those killed in the name of religion have, in fact, been a tiny fraction in the bloody history of human conflict."

 

As proof, he references the "Encyclopedia of Wars" by authors Charles Phillips and Alan Axelrod, who documented the history of recorded warfare in their 2004 three-volume set.

 

The rabbi concludes, "From their list of 1,763 wars only 123 have been classified to involve a religious cause, accounting for less than 7 percent of all wars and less than 2 percent of all people killed in warfare.

 

While, for example, it is estimated that approximately one to three million people were tragically killed in the Crusades, and perhaps 3,000 in the Inquisition, nearly 35 million soldiers and civilians died in the senseless, and secular, slaughter of World War 1 alone."

 

Of course, these calculations really depend on how one defines the word "religion."

 

If "religion" can be defined loosely as "a zealous system of beliefs and values," then you'd have to include the genocidal maniacs of the world who've made a religion of power.

 

Now is it just me, or do others see this "zealous belief" definition as a fit for Mr. Putin?

 

Because if you think that shoe fits, then you'd also need to count the anti-religious fervor of Hitler in Europe, Stalin in Russia, Mao in China and Pol Pot in Cambodia. These men worshiped at the maniacal shrine of greed, in the church of xenophobia and in the temple of hedonism.

 

Include their efforts and you'd be hard-pressed to accurately count the hundreds of millions of people killed in the last 75 years alone. While these men weren't religious per se, they became expert practitioners of intolerance.

 

Sometimes in these discussions, I'm tempted to inject a slight correction and reword the premise to say: there have been more people killed in the name of intolerance — not religion — than any other thing.

 

But if you're still among those who want to believe that religion is somehow responsible for the increased level of violence, then I'd like to prescribe the writings of historian and New York Times bestselling author Reza Aslan.

 

In response to a question put to him by CNN, Aslan made the point that "religion only becomes violent when you bring violence into it."

 

He said, "If you're a violent person, then your Islam, your Judaism, your Christianity, your Hinduism is going to be violent. There are marauding Buddhist monks in Myanmar slaughtering women and children. Does Buddhism promote violence? Of course not.

 

People are violent or peaceful and that depends on their politics, their social world, and the ways that they see their communities."

 

Nevertheless, if you insist that we're being drawn into a war about religion, check out Aslan's book, "How to Win a Cosmic War." In addressing the question, "How do you win a religious war?" he gives the best answer I've read yet:

 

"By refusing to fight in one."

 

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

 

Contact Chaplain Norris at comment@thechaplain.net or 10556 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or voicemail (843) 608-9715.

 

 

Column for syndication -- Feb 18 2022

Fun Flight Not a Fearless One

 

Some years back -- decades actually -- I left my young family to spend seven weeks in Montgomery, Alabama, for Air Force training called Squadron Officer School.

 

The dry content included Air Force leadership, communication and strategy. Not much to hold a chaplain's interest, so when a classmate offered to take a few of us on a beach-getaway, we jumped at the opportunity.

 

I remember my buddy as a tall, self-assured affable guy, but since I can't recall his name, let's call him Lt. Gray.

 

When Gray told us we were making the trip in his personal plane, I assumed he was an overpaid flyboy. But when we got to the airport, his 1957 Piper Cub spoke bargain flight.

 

I couldn't help but think how I shared a birth year with this plane and prayed I wouldn't share a death year with it as well.

 

Nevertheless, I swallowed my fears to tell the lieutenant what I thought he'd want to hear.  "Wow, what a cool plane! She's gorgeous." 

 

Looking back, I'm sure I enjoyed the beautiful 90-minute flight, just as I surely enjoyed the stunning sands of Ft Walton Beach, Florida.

 

But sometime late in the afternoon, we noticed our pilot studying the sky. "Time to go," Gray said.

 

As a reader, you have the luxury of knowing we would return safely, but if you'd been there, you'd have enjoyed no such luxury.

 

That's because halfway into the flight, the clouds amassed quite a threating arsenal. Flashes appeared in the sky and the plane rumbled toward the approaching storm like a tennis shoe in a dryer.

 

During the next thirty minutes, the chatty, confident banter of young sunburnt officers disappeared. "I think I can steer us around this," Gray finally announced.

 

As our pilot plotted to skirt the storm, I was trying to say my prayers, thanking God for my wife and firstborn daughter.

 

But just as quickly as the drama built, it dissipated into a smooth landing in Montgomery.

 

As Gray was taxiing the old girl right back to where we started, he glanced at our copilot to say, "Well, I'm glad we took the chaplain along for that one."

 

Chaplains are used to the rabbit-foot, lucky-charm jokes. But it was time to set the record straight, giving credit where it was due.

 

"Yeah, I'm just glad we had a good pilot," I said. "I was scared spitless."

 

My story seems a decent analogy of the pandemic-size storm our world has navigated the last two years.

 

Like our makeshift aircrew, it's time we all admit something. We've all been afraid.

 

Some of you may say, "Not me. I didn't panic. I depended on the Lord."

 

Others insist they knew science would save them all along.

 

Either way, we can't honestly deny that we were afraid.

 

All of us knew fear, such as the anxiety of losing a job or business, or worse yet, the terror of losing a loved one.

 

Now's the time we find the bravery to admit we've all acted out of that fear -- whether we were fearful of a vaccine or fearful of being without a vaccine. Both the masked and the unmasked were stricken with a bout of unhelpful fear.

 

Whatever side you were on, it boiled down to one thing -- losing control of our lives.

 

As tragic as this pandemic has been, the thing I fear the most is that we may come out of this crisis not speaking to each other, afraid of one another. 

 

Our pilot's joke that day about his chappy passenger, was the first time I realized he'd been scared. That moment we all laughed together became the most redeeming one -- it was the minute we knew we weren't alone.

 

As I learned during my shaky flight, faith in God and/or a pilot's skill doesn't exempt us from fear. But honestly admitting our fears is the first step to overcoming them.

 

Something I'm confident Lt. Gray learned well by the summer of 1990 as the Air Force graduated him and half my classmates to fly combat missions over the sands of Kuwait.

 

 

Take a fearless flight with me to Honduras May 15-22, 2022. Signup deadline March 15, 2022:  https://chispaproject.org/volunteertrip/

 

Contact Chaplain Norris at comment@thechaplain.net or 10556 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or voicemail (843) 608-9715.

 

 

Column for syndication -- Feb 12 2022

Clichés of an Unhealthy Faith -- the Sequel

 

My wife, Becky, expressed surprise to hear that last week's column "Clichés of An Unhealthy Faith," brought more responses than probably anything I've written in twenty years. (Posted at www.thechaplain.net).

 

When readers began to share a few clichés I missed, she suggested the column deserved a sequel. So here it is.

 

Additional Unhealthy Clichés:

 

1. "Love the sinner, hate the sin."

 

Try something for me, will you? Repeat the phrase aloud as if it's being said about you. 

 

Do you hear the way the words create an us-versus-them dynamic? The speaker becomes the righteous person looking down at the poor miserable "sinner."

 

"Hate" is the word that gives me the most trouble. Even if God hates, and I know some believe he does, he certainly didn't delegate that job to us. The cliché seems to be roughly 10% love and 90% hate. Yet, we haven't a clue why it doesn't work.

 

How about we replace this one with the truism, "God loves you." Has a certain biblical ring to it, right?

 

2. "God told me."

 

Related to the let-me-pray-about-it cliche, this claims to have God in your pocket. Back when I was in clergy school, a few of my fellow ministerial students told their girlfriends, "God told me we should get married." Even then I could hear the ulterior motives.

 

My wife, Becky, told one of her early suitors, "Let's just wait until God tells me too." God never did.

 

We needn't make up what God tells us to do when we have 66 biblical books presenting some good decisions

 

3. "Christianity isn't a religion; it's a relationship."

 

I applaud the second half of this cliché, but the first half of the saying is intellectually false.

 

You can't say Christianity isn't a religion. BUT if you say Christianity is "a unique religion" then you'd be in good company with Boston University professor Stephen Prothero.  In his book "God Is Not One: The Eight Rival Religions That Run the World — and Why Their Differences Matter" he dismisses a related cliché often voiced by those opposed to religion. Namely, that all religions are the same.

 

Prothero shows how each belief, including Christianity, meets the criteria of a religion. The difference he sees is that each religion is vastly different with greatly opposing goals. For instance, Christians uniquely focus on Eternal Life, Sin and Salvation. Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, and Confucians either don't believe in sin or don't concentrate on it.

 

Honestly, the untruth has undertones of "My religion is the only true one." And if you insert John 14:6 and proclaim that Jesus is the only way to know God, then you might as well add the conversation-stopper that all those who follow other religions are going to hell.

 

4. "Let's agree to disagree."

 

This one is often used in discussions of religion and politics. Unfortunately, it's a cliché many of us use to grab the last word of any discussion. 

 

It's definitely the cliché I'd be tempted to use if I ever meet Dr. Jeff Myers of the conservative Colorado Christian University. His bio tells me there is some doctrine we don't share, yet I was still able to find inspiration for this column in his blog.

 

"Clichés produce shame, not change," he says. "They seem powerful at first because people ooh and ahh and applaud when they hear them."

 

But those who disagree are left feeling unspiritual. How long will it take us to realize that such shame-inducing tactics are counterproductive?" 

 

Finally, speaking of "shame-producing" Becky says that the positive responses for last week's column came because I shamelessly begged you to agree with me. Please write and tell her that she's wrong.

 

Whoops. I did it again, didn't I?

 

______________________

 

Contact Chaplain Norris at comment@thechaplain.net or 10556 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or voicemail (843) 608-9715.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://www.orbcfamily.org/blog/faith/7-christian-cliches-that-help-no-one/

 

https://www.summit.org/resources/articles/christian-cliches-damaging-church/

 

Delete previous version. Revised Column for syndication -- Feb 5 2022

It's been pointed out to me that I misused the word "Truism" in the previous copy.  Please use the copy below.

 

 

 

 

Cliches of an Unhealthy Faith

 

Last week, I wrote about Ruth, a patient who asked our hospice team to be present as she took the life-ending prescriptions allowed by California law. If you missed the column, please visit my website where you can listen to it or read it. www.thechaplain.net.

 

As you might guess, the column prompted some healthy responses, mostly favorable. Still, a few readers insisted that life-and-death matters should be left up to God since only God chooses the end of life, not the individuals.

 

As a healthcare chaplain, I recognize leave-it-up-to-God as one of three popular cliches. However, I'm not sure they always reflect the kind of healthy faith that God planned for us.

 

Take a moment and consider these adages.

 

The first one I usually hear is, "I never question God."

 

If you tell me that you never doubt God, I'll ask you to consider how doubt takes more courage than certainty. If you don't think doubt is a big part of faith, you haven't read Psalms where King David openly questions God.

 

So, when I hear people claim that they don't question God, I'm tempted to throw down the elementary-schoolyard challenge: "What's the matter? Are ya' chicken?"

 

Don't you think God can handle your puny doubts and criticisms? I encourage folks to stand up and shake their fist at God.

 

"Stop badmouthing God behind his back," I tell them. "Go to that God Spot where you talk to him and say, 'Hey, God! My life stinks!'"

 

He's God. He can take it.

 

Another unhealthy saying I hear is, "Let me pray about that first."

 

Don't get me wrong here. Prayer promotes good physical and spiritual health. God and I both want you to pray.

 

It's just that sometimes we hide our own intentions behind our prayers.

 

For instance, when I was a pastor trying to recruit volunteers to teach a Sunday School class, parishioners would often say, "I don't know, Pastor. Let me pray about that first."

 

Their "prayers" were a stalling technique to get me to ask someone else. They were wimping out.

 

My father-in-law is a retired pastor, but he rarely uses that phrase. When people suggest he pray about something before making a commitment, he often replies, "No, I'm all prayed up."

 

His response reflects the wisdom of 1 Thessalonians 5:17 commanding Christians to "pray continually."  Of course, he's not always on his knees. He knows that prayer isn't primarily words. As Richard Rohr writes, "Prayer is primarily a place, an attitude and a stance."

 

Now, let's circle back to the idea of, "We are leaving it all up to God."

 

That can be a helpful saying if you're working the 12-step process for addiction recovery. It means you've taken the positive step of confessing your powerlessness over a problem and surrendering it to God.

 

But if you've "left it up to God" because you're too wimpy to be decisive, then you aren't practicing faith. You're playing roulette.

 

I often hear this thoughts from people considering the gut-wrenching decision of disconnecting their loved ones from life support. Instead of facing the hard choice, they just back out of the hospital room telling the doctors, "We've left it up to God."

 

The saying has me, and nearly every chaplain I know, wanting to scream, "If you were really leaving it up to God, you'd let us pull out the wires and tubes and let God do what he'll do."

 

My chaplain colleagues see the contradiction: If we're really "leaving it up to God," we wouldn't be using every medical intervention in the book to play tug-of-war with God over the patient's life.

 

At the end of the day, life throws us some amazingly complex questions, but as people of faith, we needn't rely on cliches.

 

If you agree, I hope you'll let me know. If you disagree, then may I suggest you simply pray about it and leave it up to God.

______________________

 

Contact Chaplain Norris at comment@thechaplain.net or 10556 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or voicemail (843) 608-9715.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Column for syndication -- Feb 5 2022

 

Truisms of an Unhealthy Faith

 

Last week, I wrote about Ruth, a patient who asked our hospice team to be present as she took the life-ending prescriptions allowed by California law. If you missed the column, please visit my website where you can listen to it or read it. www.thechaplain.net.

 

As you might guess, the column prompted some healthy responses, mostly favorable. Still, a few readers insisted that life-and-death matters should be left up to God since only God chooses the end of life, not the individuals.

 

As a healthcare chaplain, I recognize leave-it-up-to-God as one of three popular truisms. However, I'm not sure they always reflect the kind of healthy faith that God planned for us.

 

Take a moment and consider these adages.

 

The first one I usually hear is, "I never question God."

 

If you tell me that you never doubt God, I'll ask you to consider how doubt takes more courage than certainty. If you don't think doubt is a big part of faith, you haven't read Psalms where King David openly questions God.

 

So, when I hear people claim that they don't question God, I'm tempted to throw down the elementary-schoolyard challenge: "What's the matter? Are ya' chicken?"

 

Don't you think God can handle your puny doubts and criticisms? I encourage folks to stand up and shake their fist at God.

 

"Stop badmouthing God behind his back," I tell them. "Go to that God Spot where you talk to him and say, 'Hey, God! My life stinks!'"

 

He's God. He can take it.

 

Another unhealthy truism I hear is, "Let me pray about that first."

 

Don't get me wrong here. Prayer promotes good physical and spiritual health. God and I both want you to pray.

 

It's just that sometimes we hide our own intentions behind our prayers.

 

For instance, when I was a pastor trying to recruit volunteers to teach a Sunday School class, parishioners would often say, "I don't know, Pastor. Let me pray about that first."

 

Their "prayers" were a stalling technique to get me to ask someone else. They were wimping out.

 

My father-in-law is a retired pastor, but he rarely uses that phrase. When people suggest he pray about something before making a commitment, he often replies, "No, I'm all prayed up."

 

His response reflects the wisdom of 1 Thessalonians 5:17 commanding Christians to "pray continually."  Of course, he's not always on his knees. He knows that prayer isn't primarily words. As Richard Rohr writes, "Prayer is primarily a place, an attitude and a stance."

 

Now, let's circle back to the idea of, "We are leaving it all up to God."

 

That can be a helpful saying if you're working the 12-step process for addiction recovery. It means you've taken the positive step of confessing your powerlessness over a problem and surrendering it to God.

 

But if you've "left it up to God" because you're too wimpy to be decisive, then you aren't practicing faith. You're playing roulette.

 

I often hear this truism from people considering the gut-wrenching decision of disconnecting their loved ones from life support. Instead of facing the hard choice, they just back out of the hospital room telling the doctors, "We've left it up to God."

 

The saying has me, and nearly every chaplain I know, wanting to scream, "If you were really leaving it up to God, you'd let us pull out the wires and tubes and let God do what he'll do."

 

My chaplain colleagues see the contradiction: If we're really "leaving it up to God," we wouldn't be using every medical intervention in the book to play tug-of-war with God over the patient's life.

 

At the end of the day, life throws us some amazingly complex questions, but as people of faith, we needn't rely on truisms.

 

If you agree, please let me know. If you disagree, then may I suggest you simply pray about it and leave it up to God.

______________________

 

Contact Chaplain Norris at comment@thechaplain.net or 10556 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or voicemail (843) 608-9715.