Aug 2-4 column

My Limitless Limitations

 

"A man's got to know his limitations," is the famous advice given by Clint Eastwood in his role as Dirty Harry, in the 1973 movie, "Magnum Force." As a spiritual columnist, I see some spiritual awareness in those words.

 

While my limitations are unlimited, I can briefly share three settings where it's helpful for me to "know my limitations."

 

Three things I'm too inept to manage in the retail setting.

 

1.      I can't seem to learn Italian so I can order a venti or grande iced tea at Starbucks. I remind the clerk, "This is America, darn it. Give me the Jumbo Super Slurper." 

 

2.      I'm unskilled in the self-check line at the grocery store. Those computer voices fluster me. They sound too much like creepy Hal in 2001 Space Odyssey, just endlessly repeating, "Unauthorized item in the bagging area."

 

3.      I can't manage accuracy when the grocery store asks for my personal information on the store application for "preferred card." I don't need the avalanche of junk mail, text messages or email spam they bring, so I use the name "Ima Snooty." 

 

Three things I'm too clumsy to accomplish at church. 

 

1.      I don't care to hug strangers. This limitation is a trait of the INFP, a type from the Myers Briggs personality test. The letters stand for "Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Prospecting" and, according to the test, an INFP "tends to be quiet, open-minded, and imaginative, and they apply a caring and creative approach to everything they do."

 

As an INFP, I sometimes feel like I'd rather run to my car after my sermon than stay around and hug people.

 

2.      I'm unable to think of the word that fills in the "fill-in-the-blank" sermon outlines found in many church bulletins. These outlines are akin to karaoke and were popularized by the now-retired evangelical pastor Rick Warren.

 

3.      I'm too rhythmically challenged to clap to the beat of contemporary church music. I have to make a choice: sing or clap. And since people tend to get hurt when I clap, I stick to singing. 

 

Three situations where my faith is stronger because it's limited 

 

On a more serious note, I'm a man who acknowledges his faith limitations.

 

1.      I cannot, will not, tell you that your faith and beliefs are wrong and mine are right. Some Christians are fond of quoting John 14:6 concerning Jesus being the only way to God. But if you are reciting the verse to other faiths, you are not sharing your faith, you're shouting your condemnation. 

 

2.      I won't impose my faith on you in a public situation by giving a public prayer when I know that the audience may not be of my faith. Because, if I only pray what doesn't offend me and -- you can only hear what doesn't offend you -- then we dilute both of our faiths.  

 

3.      I won't debate you. I'm not going to argue religion with you. Neither will I engage in disputes over abortion, the death penalty, theology, politics, evolution or the existence of God. I will, however, engage in a thoughtful examination of the issues. Maybe it's the INFP personality, but my dad taught me that it can take more courage to walk away from an argument. 

 

That's enough of the negative limitations. Before I finish, let me tell you where I tend to be limit-less.

 

1.      I try to be an example of struggling faith. "What is that?" you ask. Struggling faith recognizes that no one has faith completely figured out. God is too big to be contained in one religion. We can learn things about faith from people of other faiths, and even from people who profess no faith at all.  

 

2.      I want to follow the direction of I Peter 3:15: "Be ready to speak up and tell anyone who asks why you're living the way you are and always with the utmost courtesy."  

 

3.      Finally, if you ask me, I will pray with you without limits. My prayers are voiced in plain English without the "thee" and "thou" from King James's Old English. However, given my touch of ADD, the prayers won't be a grande or a venti size prayer, just a small one.

 

Just don't ask me to do one of those huggy prayers. After all, a pastor really should know his/her limitations. 

 

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

Join Norris' mailing list at www.thechaplain.net/newsletter or leave voicemail at (843) 608-9715 or email comment@thechaplain.net or @chaplain. Snail mail occasionally checked at 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602. All his books are also available on his website.

 

 

 

 

Aug 2 column

My Limitless Limitations

 

"A man's got to know his limitations," is the famous advice given by Clint Eastwood in his role as Dirty Harry, in the 1973 movie, "Magnum Force." As a spiritual columnist, I see some spiritual awareness in those words.

 

While my limitations are unlimited, I can briefly share three settings where it's helpful for me to "know my limitations."

 

Three things I'm too inept to manage in the retail setting.

 

1. I can't seem to learn Italian so I can order a venti or grande iced tea at Starbucks. I remind the clerk, "This is America, darn it. Give me the Jumbo Super Slurper."

 

2. I'm unskilled in the self-check line at the grocery store. Those computer voices fluster me. They sound too much like creepy Hal in 2001 Space Odyssey, just endlessly repeating, "Unauthorized item in the bagging area."

 

3. I can't manage accuracy when the grocery store asks for my personal information on the store application for "preferred card." I don't need the avalanche of junk mail, text messages or email spam they bring, so I use the name "Ima Snooty."

 

Three things I'm too clumsy to accomplish at church.

 

1. I don't care to hug strangers. This limitation is a trait of the INFP, a type from the Myers Briggs personality test. The letters stand for "Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Prospecting" and, according to the test, an INFP "tends to be quiet, open-minded, and imaginative, and they apply a caring and creative approach to everything they do."

 

As an INFP, I sometimes feel like I'd rather run to my car after my sermon than stay around and hug people.

 

2. I'm unable to think of the word that fills in the "fill-in-the-blank" sermon outlines found in many church bulletins. These outlines are akin to karaoke and were popularized by the now-retired evangelical pastor Rick Warren.

 

3. I'm too rhythmically challenged to clap to the beat of contemporary church music. I have to make a choice: sing or clap. And since people tend to get hurt when I clap, I stick to singing.

 

Three situations where my faith is stronger because it's limited

 

On a more serious note, I'm a man who acknowledges his faith limitations.

 

1. I cannot, will not, tell you that your faith and beliefs are wrong and mine are right. Some Christians are fond of quoting John 14:6 concerning Jesus being the only way to God. But if you are reciting the verse to other faiths, you are not sharing your faith, you're shouting your condemnation.

 

2. I won't impose my faith on you in a public situation by giving a public prayer when I know that the audience may not be of my faith. Because, if I only pray what doesn't offend me and -- you can only hear what doesn't offend you -- then we dilute both of our faiths. 

 

3. I won't debate you. I'm not going to argue religion with you. Neither will I engage in disputes over abortion, the death penalty, theology, politics, evolution or the existence of God. I will, however, engage in a thoughtful examination of the issues. Maybe it's the INFP personality, but my dad taught me that it can take more courage to walk away from an argument.

 

That's enough of the negative limitations. Before I finish, let me tell you where I tend to be limit-less.

 

1. I try to be an example of struggling faith. "What is that?" you ask. Struggling faith recognizes that no one has faith completely figured out. God is too big to be contained in one religion. We can learn things about faith from people of other faiths, and even from people who profess no faith at all. 

 

2. I want to follow the direction of I Peter 3:15: "Be ready to speak up and tell anyone who asks why you're living the way you are and always with the utmost courtesy." 

 

3. Finally, if you ask me, I will pray with you without limits. My prayers are voiced in plain English without the "thee" and "thou" from King James's Old English. However, given my touch of ADD, the prayers won't be a grande or a venti size prayer, just a small one.

 

Just don't ask me to do one of those huggy prayers. After all, a pastor really should know his/her limitations.

 

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

Join Norris' mailing list at www.thechaplain.net/newsletter or leave voicemail at (843) 608-9715 or email comment@thechaplain.net or @chaplain. Snail mail occasionally checked at 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602. All his books are also available on his website.

 

 

 

Corrected July 26-28 column

The Tale the Dead Man Told

 

According to the animatronic skull at Disneyland's "Pirates of the Caribbean" ride,

"Dead men tell no tales."

 

The saying didn't prove so true some years ago when I received a phone call from the director of a funeral home in Stockton, Calif. 

 

The director asked if I was available to conduct the funeral of a person unknown to me. Honestly, these were welcome requests in my early pastoring days as they supplemented my modest pay while demanding little from my emotional bank.

 

I told him I'd be happy to do it, so he launched into the background story of how a local man had visited the funeral home a few months prior to make advance preparation for his own funeral. The director was happy to oblige and helped the man make his plans, choose a casket and select the music.

 

"There would have been nothing odd in this man's request," the director said, his voice trailing. "Except for his modest prediction." 

 

"Don't expect a crowd," the lone man told him. "In fact, probably no one will be here at all."

 

With that, the director approved the plan and accepted payment.

 

"Perhaps my visitor was only being modest with his attendance prediction," the director said. "But no matter, we will provide what he paid for."

 

I agreed and hung up the phone to write a short sermon outline tailored to what I expected to be a handful of mourners.

 

A few days later, the director greeted me inside the funeral chapel, handing me a business-size envelope containing an obituary and my honorarium. We took our seats in the front row and over background music speculated how one approached life's end with the expectation that no one would attend your funeral. 

 

At twenty-five minutes past the hour, I stood to signal the director I was done with our chit-chat. I thanked him and turned to walk toward the exit.

 

"Aren't you going to preach your sermon?" he asked. 

 

"Really?" I asked, waving my hand over the vacant pews.

 

"The man paid for a funeral. You and I agreed that he should get one." 

 

I nodded and took my spot before the empty chapel pews and preached a cookie-cutter sermon about God's love for every man.

 

Later, back in my office, as I considered the deceased's predicament. I began to see the similarities to the biblical parable from Matthew 25.

 

It's a story Jesus told about a king who'd entrusted three servants to make investments on his behalf. Apparently, the king had a reputation for rewarding people by letting them keep their heads. 

 

The first two servants did well. One doubled the king's investment and the other increased it by half. Both were rewarded with their own kingdoms. 

 

However, the focus of the parable is on the third man. Fearful of his king, this tightwad buried the treasure so as not to lose a cent.

 

When that servant offered the king only his original principal, the scripture implies that the king executed the man. 

 

I won't presume to say that this man whose funeral I performed was just like the scaredy cat in the parable. I won't speculate, judge or even pretend to know his life.

 

Perhaps this fella simply outlived everyone he knew. 

 

However, if you forced me to guess, I'd say I have to wonder if the no-show funeral meant that this guy never gave to anyone. Did he ever help out in a food kitchen?

 

Or I might say that the biblical servant and the guy who advanced planned his funeral were trying to live their lives dodging the risk of failure. They worked hard to avoid disappointing people by steering clear of meaningful relationships.

 

I've done many funerals since that day — some for saints and a few for scoundrels.

 

But this funeral has always reminded me that life is not without risks and those who seek to evade risk are often sentenced to a solitary existence. This is certainly not the way I want to live, and I'm convinced that it's not the way God wants his investment returned.

 

Fun Fact: "Dead men tell no tales," was first attributed to a 16^th century English clergyman named Thomas Becon. Of course, it was easy for him to make that claim because his day was never interrupted by phone calls.

 

 

Would you mind sharing your email address with me? If so, I will email you this column each week so you can forward it to others. Send comments by email to comment@thechaplain.net or by text or voicemail to (843) 608-9715, or snail mail at 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602. 

 

 

 

 

Corrected July 19-21 column

Bible Will Inspire Our Olympians

 

With the Olympics set to begin this month, it may be a good time for a Bible study.

 

No, I'm not going full Jerry Falwell on you. I just thought you might be interested in the biblical etymology of expressions used in the heat of sports competition.

 

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary "Etymologies are not definitions; they're explanations of what our words meant and how they sounded 600 or 2,000 years ago."

 

However, I'm going to take you a bit farther back because, as a spiritual columnist, I'm somewhat amused to hear people unwittingly quote the Bible.  

 

So today, and just for trivial fun, I present some biblical sayings which might be inadvertently quoted by athletes at the Paris games.

 

For instance, when weightlifters talk about their "hard work and sweat" that brought them to the Olympics, they are making a veiled reference to Genesis 3:19.

 

It's here that God tells Adam and Eve that because of their transgression, there will be no more free lunch. Their survival will require hard work because it'll only be "By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food…."

 

When a gymnast stumbles over his answers in a news interview, the reporter might suggest a favorable answer to his own question. Journalists call those questions "softballs" and will often add, "I'm not trying to put words in your mouth." That news reporter is trying to evoke a printable quote as he unknowingly plagiarizes 2 Samuel 14:3: "And Joab put the words in her mouth."

 

In sports competition, a cyclist might revel in his rival's failure by saying his competitor "bit the dust." Those words convey the vengeful spirit expressed in Psalm 72:9 "…and his enemies will lick the dust."

 

"Rise and shine!" is an admonition a few coaches may use to awaken their Olympians for an early morning training routine. They do so without realizing they are quoting the prophet Isaiah who said, "Arise, shine, for your light has come…." (60:1).

 

Or a swimmer in a tight race might modestly describe her win "by the skin of my teeth." She is quoting Job 19:20, "I have escaped only by the skin of my teeth."

 

And when a track star tells us they are "just going to concentrate and run the race before them," they make a vague reference to Hebrews 12:1: "Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us."

 

When a high diver speaks in resigning tones of the poor scores received from international judges, they may choose their comment from two different verses.

 

"I have to trust 'the powers that be' they may say, without thought to Romans 13:1:"…the powers that be are ordained of God."

 

Or as the diver looks to his poor showing on the scoreboard, he may unknowingly quote Daniel 5 as seeing "the writing on the wall."

 

The humble relay racer knows hers is a team competition with no "I" in the word "team." So, when asked about her chances in an upcoming race, she resists the temptation to brag saying, "Pride comes before a fall." She perhaps knows she's quoting Proverbs 16:18 "Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall."

 

Of course, the one I expect to hear most often will be from coaches trying to lift the spirits of those athletes going home without gold medals. "You can be proud to have competed for the USA because 'You fought the good fight!'"

 

Those words should inspire them just as they may motivate the rest of us couch potatoes to get up and move. After all, they are the words that inspired Timothy when the Apostle Paul told his co-pastor to, "Fight the good fight for the true faith" (I Timothy 6:12).

 

Go Team USA!

 

I owe inspiration for this column to Steve Prokopchak's list of 30 Everyday Sayings That You Didn't Know Originated from the Bible. See steveprokopchak.com.

 

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

 

Join Norris' mailing list at www.thechaplain.net/newsletter. Comment by voicemail or text message (843) 608-9715 or email comment@thechaplain.net. Snail mail occasionally checked at 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602. All his books are also available on his website.

 

 

Corrected July 12-14 column

Some Prayers Come in A Different Language

 

Not too far away or long ago, I was working as a hospital chaplain at Sutter Medical Center in Sacramento when a nurse suggested I visit one of her patients. The only reason she offered for her referral was that our patient might need "some counseling or something."

 

Before entering the room, I sought more explanation from the patient's chart. Turning to the patient history page, I read aloud, "Patient is consuming multiple six-packs each day."

 

"Something indeed," I muttered, repeating the nurse's euphemism.

 

A few steps away in the room, I met a man who was writhing in the pain of detoxification. I knew little about the process, but I once heard a doctor say that "Detox makes waterboarding look tame."

 

Fixing me with a crazed look, the patient ordered me to "Get some &%@'n drugs, Doc!" He was, no doubt, assuming that the male entering his room wearing a necktie was his doctor.

 

I took a deep breath and assured him I was his chaplain, not his doctor.

 

Arming himself again with a limited vocabulary, he fired another volley aimed at convincing me he didn't care whether I was the pope; he wanted his drugs.

 

I nodded and left the room to relay his message to the nurse.

 

A bit shocked, the old-school nurse asked me, "Did you tell him that he shouldn't talk to a chaplain that way?" she asked.

 

My forthcoming answer seemed to surprise her nearly as much as the patient's vocabulary.

 

"No. I think his language represents a kind of prayer."

 

"Prayer?" she asked, as if now questioning my sobriety.

 

I took her stance as invitation to say more. In the next few minutes, I shared my belief that God hears our expressions of agony, loss or pain as a prayer.

 

These prayers can be expressed in a wordless whimper, and God hears them. They can be voiced with bloodcurdling screams, and God hears them. They may be vented with words that offend the offhanded listener. The point is no matter how these words are uttered, God hears them and knows how to interpret them.

 

Our problem often comes when, perhaps like this nurse, we close our hearts and our ears to the kind of language expressed in that level of pain. We do this because we think pain ought not become offensive. "Pain should be neat and controlled," we reason.

 

That's not the way the Psalmist saw it when he wrote, "I cry aloud to the Lord; I lift up my voice to the Lord for mercy. I pour out my complaint before him; before him I tell my trouble" (Psalm 142:1-2).

 

And it certainly wasn't the way Job saw it when he lost his entire family. "Therefore I will not keep silent; I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit, I will complain in the bitterness of my soul" (Job 7:11).

 

I'm not saying we should encourage this language in everyday use. I'm saying that if God doesn't turn his ears away from even the most excruciating levels of human pain, then how can we?

 

At the end of the day, I like the metaphor Susan Lenzkes uses in her book, "When Life Takes What Matters." She says expressing our anger is like beating upon the chest of God, but "… we beat on His chest from within the circle of His arms."

 

I returned a few hours later to find that his nurse had finally given him the pain meds he needed.

 

He apologized for the language he'd used toward his chaplain. "No worries," I said. "All forgiven."

 

A few minutes after that, I found the nurse in her station.

 

"Thanks for your help," I said.

 

"God answers prayer chaplain, but sometimes he gets help from a nurse."

 

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

 

Column excerpted from my book, "Thriving Beyond Surviving." You can request an autographed copy by visiting my website or sending a $20 check to 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602.

 

Send comments by email to comment@thechaplain.net or by text or voicemail to (843) 608-9715.

 

July 12-14 column

 

 

"Forced Worship Stinks in God's Nostrils"

 

Under a new Louisiana law, every public school from elementary to college will be required to post the Ten Commandments by the end of this year.

 

If Jesus were around today, and I believe he is, I think he'd find the new law reeking with hypocrisy.

 

He'd likely question the irony of enforcing Commandment No. 2 in a state that still carries the stench of 130 graven images of confederate "heroes."

 

He'd likely call "foul," as the LSU Tigers, the eighth-best team nationally, dishonor the Sabbath with Saturday games.

 

But worst of all, he'd ask if the state legislature planned to include the fine print of Mosaic law with 248 do-this commandments, and 365 definitely-do-not-do-this commandments.

 

For instance, will the posted commandments include Exodus 21:29, that says if an ox gores someone to death, both the owner and the ox must be executed?

 

I'm not trying to villainize the Pelican State, but I am trying to prove a point on this Independence Day weekend about the principle of separation of church and state.

 

The principle has taken some hits in recent years.

 

Opponents make two points. First, the separation idea is not in the constitution. Second, they say our founding fathers would have never favored such a split because they sought to make the USA into a Christian nation.

 

The first argument is true. Separation of church and state is only an interpretation of the First Amendment which clearly forbids our government from establishing a religion. Additionally, it's interpreted to mean the government can't favor any single religion.

 

The second point is decidedly untrue.

 

Thomas Jefferson, the primary author of the Declaration of Independence was "not a God-fearing humanitarian but rather a slaveholding epicurean deist," says Tim Alberta in his latest book, "The Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory: American Evangelicals in an Age of Extremism."

 

"Jefferson was not an earnest follower of Christ but was known to mock revivalists and rarely attend church," Alberta writes.

 

I gained some understanding of Jefferson's view during my visit to Roger Williams National Memorial last summer. It's possible that Jefferson's understanding of the church and state issue was forged from Williams's.

 

Living 100 years prior to Jefferson, Williams was excommunicated from the Anglican Church for blasphemy. Banished from his home in 1636, he was forced on a most horrendous walkabout through a blizzard to present-day Rhode Island. It was there he established a Baptist community free from puritanism.

 

According to a National Park Service article, Roger Williams believed government-established religions were "…responsible for the death of millions of innocent souls whose only crime was having their own, unique conscience."

 

Williams added with succinct clarity, "Forced worship stinks in God's nostrils."

 

Alberta notes that Jesus himself "physically ran and hid from the people who desired to make Him king. Jesus dismissed his critics by telling them, 'Give back to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's.'"

 

Alberta concludes this thought with an interpretation from a modern-day preacher who gained fame in 1965.

 

"In other words, pay your taxes, forget politics, and serve God with all your heart."

 

That man was the late Jerry Falwell – before he successfully revived his failing college through a political arm called, "The Moral Majority."

 

Imagine what might happen if a different religion wanted to post their treatise.

 

Visualize a Baptist mom in New Orleans whose job transfer takes her family to Dearborn Michigan. Once there, she will likely enroll her Baptist son in a school belonging to the largest Muslim-populated school district in the US.

 

Once in class, Mom will need some assurances that her son can enjoy his religious freedom without being required to memorize the Five Pillars of Islam.

 

As you approach the voting booth this fall, let's keep church and state separate. But most of all, beyond November, I encourage people of faith to, "Serve God with all your heart."

 

Currently, the Louisiana law is being legally challenged. In the end, I suspect Louisianans will find, as did a dozen other states, that their law won't pass the "the sniff test."

 

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

Join Norris' mailing list at www.thechaplain.net/newsletter or leave voicemail at (843) 608-9715 or email comment@thechaplain.net or @chaplain. Snail mail occasionally checked at 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602. All his books are also available on his website.

 

 

 

July 5-7 column

 

 

"Forced Worship Stinks in God's Nostrils"

 

Under a new Louisiana law, every public school from elementary to college will be required to post the Ten Commandments by the end of this year.

 

If Jesus were around today, and I believe he is, I think he'd find the new law reeking with hypocrisy.

 

He'd likely question the irony of enforcing Commandment No. 2 in a state that still carries the stench of 130 graven images of confederate "heroes."

 

He'd likely call "foul," as the LSU Tigers, the eighth-best team nationally, dishonor the Sabbath with Saturday games.

 

But worst of all, he'd ask if the state legislature planned to include the fine print of Mosaic law with 248 do-this commandments, and 365 definitely-do-not-do-this commandments.

 

For instance, will the posted commandments include Exodus 21:29, that says if an ox gores someone to death, both the owner and the ox must be executed?

 

I'm not trying to villainize the Pelican State, but I am trying to prove a point on this Independence Day weekend about the principle of separation of church and state.

 

The principle has taken some hits in recent years.

 

Opponents make two points. First, the separation idea is not in the constitution. Second, they say our founding fathers would have never favored such a split because they sought to make the USA into a Christian nation.

 

The first argument is true. Separation of church and state is only an interpretation of the First Amendment which clearly forbids our government from establishing a religion. Additionally, it's interpreted to mean the government can't favor any single religion.

 

The second point is decidedly untrue.

 

Thomas Jefferson, the primary author of the Declaration of Independence was "not a God-fearing humanitarian but rather a slaveholding epicurean deist," says Tim Alberta in his latest book, "The Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory: American Evangelicals in an Age of Extremism."

 

"Jefferson was not an earnest follower of Christ but was known to mock revivalists and rarely attend church," Alberta writes.

 

I gained some understanding of Jefferson's view during my visit to Roger Williams National Memorial last summer. It's possible that Jefferson's understanding of the church and state issue was forged from Williams's.

 

Living 100 years prior to Jefferson, Williams was excommunicated from the Anglican Church for blasphemy. Banished from his home in 1636, he was forced on a most horrendous walkabout through a blizzard to present-day Rhode Island. It was there he established a Baptist community free from puritanism.

 

According to a National Park Service article, Roger Williams believed government-established religions were "…responsible for the death of millions of innocent souls whose only crime was having their own, unique conscience."

 

Williams added with succinct clarity, "Forced worship stinks in God's nostrils."

 

Alberta notes that Jesus himself "physically ran and hid from the people who desired to make Him king. Jesus dismissed his critics by telling them, 'Give back to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's.'"

 

Alberta concludes this thought with an interpretation from a modern-day preacher who gained fame in 1965.

 

"In other words, pay your taxes, forget politics, and serve God with all your heart."

 

That man was the late Jerry Falwell – before he successfully revived his failing college through a political arm called, "The Moral Majority."

 

Imagine what might happen if a different religion wanted to post their treatise.

 

Visualize a Baptist mom in New Orleans whose job transfer takes her family to Dearborn Michigan. Once there, she will likely enroll her Baptist son in a school belonging to the largest Muslim-populated school district in the US.

 

Once in class, Mom will need some assurances that her son can enjoy his religious freedom without being required to memorize the Five Pillars of Islam.

 

As you approach the voting booth this fall, let's keep church and state separate. But most of all, beyond November, I encourage people of faith to, "Serve God with all your heart."

 

Currently, the Louisiana law is being legally challenged. In the end, I suspect Louisianans will find, as did a dozen other states, that their law won't pass the "the sniff test."

 

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

Join Norris' mailing list at www.thechaplain.net/newsletter or leave voicemail at (843) 608-9715 or email comment@thechaplain.net or @chaplain. Snail mail occasionally checked at 10566 Combie Rd. Suite 6643 Auburn, CA 95602. All his books are also available on his website.