Chaplain's Column -- New Year's weekend 2022

God Seeks to Heal Broken Relationships

 

In the weeks after the first Christmas, the Bethlehem gossip-mill was in full swing.

If there had been newspapers at the time, the Society Page would have likely run the lead headline:

 

"Test results show Joseph not the father; considering divorce."

 

In the New International translation, we find a line embedded in the Christmas story not usually emphasized in candlelit church readings.

 

"Joseph, her husband, was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace; he had in mind to divorce her quietly" (Matthew 1:19).

 

As a chaplain, I'm often asked the difficult question: "What does God think of divorce?"

 

I wish I were asked easier ones like, "What does your wife of nearly 43 years think of divorce?"

 

While I'm ­­tempted to facetiously reply, "That depends on the hour of the day she's asked," I like to think I'd manage a more sober answer.

 

Long before our wedding, my wife, Becky, made her plan clear: "Never joke about divorce and never threaten it. Don't even plant that seed of thought."

 

Good plan.

 

In the beginning, God had some plans too.

 

In The Message translation, Jesus describes marriage as an art. In Mark 10:9 he says, "No one should desecrate his art."

 

Nearly 30 years after Jesus' teenage mother escaped a likely stoning, he risked a similar fate by recounting God's plan to religious leaders who were asking what God thought of divorce.

 

These leaders challenged Jesus by noting that Moses' teachings allowed for divorce. "Moses provided for divorce as a concession to your hard heartedness," Jesus retorted, "but it is not part of God's original plan."

 

The key words here are, "as a concession to your hard heartedness." Divorce isn't a part of creation, but because we all experience a hardening of our hearts, divorce can happen.

 

"Hard heartedness" is a way of describing resentments. Maybe these resentments took root during the marriage, or long before you met your partner.

 

These resentments can cause infidelity and all relationships will break under the weight of infidelity. However, don't be too quick to settle with the sexual definition of infidelity. I think God's definition is much bigger than that.

 

Infidelity happens when one or both people stop working the vows, not just the vows to be sexually true, but the vows to be truthful, the vows to work with each other throughout difficulties and the vows to share each other's hurts.

 

When one or both people stop working these vows, divorce will most often be the result. So what happens then?

 

I think it helps to remember two things.

 

First of all, God feels the pain from all broken relationships at work and at home. He hurts when he sees broken relationships with children as well as weakening relationships in our places of worship.

 

Understanding that God hurts with us gives us a greater perspective. Instead of considering only our personal battle, we realize we are also hurting an innocent party. We are hurting the one who created us to live in loving relationships.

 

This perspective gives me energy to do my best at mending those relationships, whether they be at work, home or in world politics.

 

Second, and most important, God works with us to heal relationships. The healing may take place in our current relationship, or it may take place while we begin another relationship, but healing will always be God's business.

 

After all, when I consider the "scandalous birth" of a child named Jesus, I become more and more convinced that God has always been about restoring and healing relationships.

 

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This column was excerpted from Norris's book, 'Thriving Beyond Surviving." His books are available for purchase on his website, www.thechaplain.net Send comments to comment@thechaplain.net or 10556 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or via voicemail (843) 608-9715.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chaplain's Column -- Christmas weekend 2022

From Darkness Into Light

 

This Christmas, do you find yourself asking why you aren't as happy as everyone else seems to be? Has Christmas cheer become an elusive commodity? If so, where do you get Christmas cheer?

 

In an effort to answer those questions, a UK pie-making company called Mr. Kipling commissioned a company called Nurosense to define the "feeling of Christmas." The pie makers wanted to know if was possible to reduce the Christmas spirit to the right combination of sights, sounds and smells.

 

The study, reported by England's Daily Mail, subjected 30 female participants to various Christmas sights, smells and sounds. Afterward, they asked the women to give a score of 1 to 10 for how Christmassy they felt.

 

The least Christmassy combination seems to be candles, classical music and a pine smell, which scored 2.95. Candles, carols and the smell of oranges scored a bit higher at 6.2.

 

The winner-winner-Christmas-dinner combo was candles, carols and cinnamon with the highest rating of 7.3.

 

However, for some of you, those same sights, sounds and smells may have you crying more than smiling or laughing.

 

If that's you, you may be affected by Seasonal Affect Disorder (SAD) aka, "Winter Depression." According to a Boston University report, you needn't feel alone; an estimated 10 million Americans suffer from it.

 

SAD may be worsened by unrealistic expectations, credit card debt, family conflict or catastrophizing your existing problems. (See my recent column.)

 

The whole SAD picture reminds me of the unmarried pregnant girl whose fiancé was already thinking divorce. She figured her family would certainly disown her. Her community would likely stone her.

She was from a humble beginning with no royal lineage or marketable skills. Her situation was unimaginably bad.

 

Yet the scripture suggests that Mary somehow found a way to rejoice under these horrible circumstances. Expecting the birth of the Lord Jesus, she found the faith to say,

 

"I'm bursting with God-news; I'm dancing the song of my Savior God. God took one good look at me and look what happened— I'm the most fortunate woman on earth!

 

What God has done for me will never be forgotten, the God whose very name is holy, set apart from all others. His mercy flows in wave after wave on those who are in awe before him" (The Message Luke 1:46-48).

 

I hear a lot of inspiration in Mary's story because I've known overwhelming depression twice in my life. Don't judge. I'd dare to say few can see what I've seen as a chaplain and still come out the other side unscathed.

 

But help began with an admission that I was overwhelmed and needed help. It took some time, but with the assistance of family, friends and pastoral supervisors, counseling, and clinical intervention I found my way out. 

 

Even now, there are still days when I sense the foggy fingers of depression returning. When that happens, I double down on the three-prong strategy that's always helped me thrive beyond surviving.

 

First, I center myself with mediation or prayer.

 

Then, I open my eyes and reach outside the limits of my own needs to help those around me. 

 

Finally, and most important of all, I surround myself with those who are able to affirm my calling, hear my heart and grant me grace.

 

As this three-prong strategy reasserts its place in my faith I, like Mary, begin to see myself as favored.

 

And thankfully, no matter how much my Christmas spirit has suffered, I've never had trouble downing a few pieces of pie.

 

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If you need help, reach out to your physician, clergy or local mental health provider. If you need assistance finding one, call the national hotline at 1-800-662-4357.

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Norris Burkes is a syndicated columnist, national speaker and author. He is board-certified in the Association of Professional Chaplains. Send comments to comment@thechaplain.net or 10556 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or via voicemail (843) 608-9715.

 

 

 

Chaplain's Column -- Dec 16-18 2022

The Late Chaplain Norris

 

You likely know that tired, old dad joke — "I don't care what you call me, just don't call me late for dinner."

 

I put the saying to the test years ago during our Christmas dinner gathering at the childhood home of my wife, Becky.

 

Since the early death of my father, Becky's father, Wil, has encouraged me to call him "Dad." Reciprocally, he sometimes calls me "Son," (although mostly when I annoy him).

 

Truly, I've never cared what he calls me – just not late for the lavish spreads furnished by his wife, Darla.

 

Christmas at Darla's table differed greatly from those in my childhood home.

 

Her banquets resembled the turkey feast famously portrayed in Norman Rockwell's "Freedom from Want." 

 

The house bustled with the reunion of aunts, uncles and cousins. We were a crowded, noisy bunch. Cooks labored in an overheated kitchen while impassioned football fans filled the TV room.

 

We all waited for that moment when Darla would ask Wil to bless the food.

 

I don't recall the exact words of his prayers, but I do remember how his baritone voice carried the weight and warmth of sustaining hope. His prayers were extemporaneous, poetic, powerful, and above all, humble.

 

His appeals brought the listener into the presence of a "gracious God" and comforted the surrounding guests with the tender love of a sympathetic creator. They originated from his heart –  never recorded, written or memorized.

 

By the time I'd been a guest a dozen times, I began to hope I might be granted the honor of giving the Christmas prayer.

 

But any hints I gave were lost in the meal-prep confusion. Dad was busy telling jokes, hustling extra chairs into place and carving the turkey.

 

However, as usual, the meal seemed unlikely to begin on schedule, delaying the dinner prayer. 

 

One moment Darla declared the dinner ready, and the next moment the kitchen crew announced, "False start." Potatoes were not yet mashed, so salivating football fans returned to the Dallas game.

 

When the potatoes finally came to the table, start-time was reconsidered as someone noted the dinner rolls were cold. While they warmed, I called for a bathroom timeout.

 

I expected the announcement to stop the game clock.

 

It didn't. Either I wasn't heard or perhaps the absence of another preacher among so many start/stops seemed insignificant.

 

While I was away, my father-in-law began a prayer much like this:

 

"Almighty God,

 

"YHWH*, King of the Universe,

 

"We want to celebrate this Advent Season in remembrance of the arrival of our Lord and Savior as God-in-the-flesh knowing it also points to Easter.

 

"As the Christmas Carol says, 'The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight,' bringing Joy to the World.

 

"May we open our mind and heart to receive it. Yes. Yes.

 

"Now let us repeat the words our Lord taught us to say, 'Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come thy will be done….'"

 

Of course, I can't be sure that's what he said, because I'd spent most of my bathroom visit reading December's Reader's Digest. But when I finally returned, the rolls were nearly gone and my favorite dark meat was depleted.

 

Wil reached his 90^th birthday this year. Yet as a retired pastor now widowed, he remains active at church and is still praying strong.

 

He'd be honored if you used his prayer at your gathering.

 

By the way, we're progressing, Wil and I. After editing this column draft last week, Dad finally asked me to give the blessing at Taco Tuesday.

 

No word yet on who'll give the Christmas prayer next Sunday. But you can bet I'll be on time.

 

 

*This name for God which occurs most frequently in the Hebrew Bible is pronounced Yah-Way.

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Please read past columns on my website, www.thechaplain.net. Send comments to comment@thechaplain.net or 10556 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602 or via voicemail (843) 608-9715.

 

 

Chaplain's Column -- Dec 9-11 2-22

No Is Not a Dirty Word

 

In Roger's and Hammerstein's musical, "Oklahoma," Ado Annie Carnes declares, "I'm just a girl who can't say, 'No.'"

 

I love those kinds of people because, well, for a guy named Norris that starts with "No," I really hate the word "no."

 

For instance, whenever the 16-year-old ticket seller tells this 65-year-old movie patron that he can't take the 64 oz. Big Gulp, diet Pepsi into the theater, I have an excuse.

 

"Oh, really?" I ask. "I figured since I'm buying the jumbo refillable popcorn, you'd let me slide past."

 

This is the moment when my wife will ask to buy a ticket for a different movie.

 

Fortunately, God is pretty much a "yes man." He says yes to love. He says yes to relationships. And he also says yes to limits.

 

"Limits?" you ask. 

 

Yes, limits. Moses recorded those limits in an ancient text called the "Ten Commandments." And while most of us acknowledge their wisdom, it's the "thou shalt not" parts that give us a problem.

 

For example, God says, "Thou shall not commit murder," and we ignore its inference to waging war or implementing the death penalty.

 

God says, "Thou shall not commit adultery," but we refuse to examine how it impacts platonic relationships or how it applies to pornography.

 

God says, "Thou shall not steal," but we fudge a few lines on our taxes.

 

God says, "Thou shall not give false testimony against your neighbor," but we insist that our gossip is just "sharing our prayer concerns."

 

God says, "Thou shall not covet," but we assume a second mortgage to buy the big-boy toys and then wonder how we lost our house.

 

These are the limits God sets in the same way caring parents set limitations for their children. You may discount the Ten Commandments because they come from a Judeo-Christian heritage but consider that most world religions have similar limits.

 

Hindus have "The Four Aims of Hinduism;" Buddhism has the "Noble Eightfold Path;" and Muslims have the "The Five Pillars."

 

If there's a loophole out there, I haven't found it. The Ten Commandments are not confused with legalese jargon like "Thou (hereinafter known as the Party of the First Part) shalt not covet thy neighbor's (hereinafter known as the Party of the Second Part) wife, excepting insofar as the Party of the Second Part fulfills the obligations hereinafter set forth, including, but not limited to, all sections and subsections listed below."

 

Nope. Just "Don't covet your neighbor's wife." Done.

 

Of course, God knows that whether it's lust for Nancy Neighbor or greed with Lady Luck, the mind turns to peanut butter - very creative peanut butter that can come up with some doozies as far as rationalizing and justifying why "in my case it's different."

 

That's why Jesus steered us toward a "Yes-God" when he said, "Let everything hang on these two commandments: 1) Love the Lord your God with all your heart. 2) Love your neighbor as yourself."

 

At the end of the day, you'll probably find these commandments are much simpler and leave you with fewer excuses. The best part is that you'll also find that when it comes to love, "He's just a God who can't say "No."

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Norris Burkes is a syndicated columnist, national speaker and author. He is board-certified in the Association of Professional Chaplains. Please visit his website thechaplain.net. Email him at comment@thechaplain.net