The chaplain tooteth!

In June 1997, my Air Force chaplain career brought me to Patrick Air Force Base, Florida. After a few days of in-processing into my assignment, my supervisor posed a question to his new captain: "How was it that you ever got into the Air Force?" His question set me back a moment until the senior chaplain broke into a broad grin. "Well," he said, "I've noticed that you don't drink coffee or play golf. So how did you make commissioned officer status?" Ha Ha. Very funny. Ten years later, his question finally challenged me to rectify my "shortcoming" with some golf lessons. With only a few years before retirement, I was on my annual training in San Luis Obispo, when I found an opportunity to play my first game with fellow chaplains. Father John Love, Chaplain Mike Beyer and our chaplain assistant, Robert "Web" Webster, reserved a foursome on the Morro Bay course, a breath-taking public course edged on the Pacific Ocean. I'll not tell you about my first three shots, but somewhere off the fourth hole, I sent a ball soaring so far and hard I thought it might sink a passing dingy. Amazingly, it plopped just 30 feet short of the hole. To a new golfer, the shot felt like I'd just won the Masters Tournament. I jumped up and down, screaming like a lunatic. "What happened to the meek inheriting the earth?" asked my ever-helpful chaplain assistant. "Hey," I said, "haven't you heard that saying? 'He who tooteth not his own horn, the same shall not be tooted. '" Beyer groaned at the tired old quote from the 20th-century journalist, Damon Runyon. I was ready to pop the champagne, but Father Love lassoed my big head and pulled me back down to the greens. "Norris" he advised, "that was fantastic, but in golf, when you hit a superb shot, you must assume a humble quiet stance. "Like this," he said, bowing his head and joining his hands together below his belt. "Then, you wait for it." "Wait for what?" I asked. "Wait for us to do our job." He said. "We're the cheering section. Not you." I did as I was instructed, dropping my head in silence. On cue, Love and Beyer threw their arms to the sky, raving over the beauty of the trajectory, speed and landing. Web, just folded at the waist, amused to see his chaplain humbled a bit. Aside from teaching me golf etiquette, the guys were highlighting a tricky question we face in life when we reach a pinnacle of accomplishment: Do we toot our own horn? Or do we wait, head bowed, to be showered with accolades? The Apostle Paul seemed to think we could do no wrong electing the humble stance. Eugene Peterson astutely paraphrased Paul's words from Philippians 2:1-4 in the dynamic and highly idiomatic translation called "The Message." "If you've gotten anything at all out of following Christ, if his love has made any difference in your life – then do me a favor: … Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead. Don't be obsessed with getting your own advantage. Forget yourselves long enough to lend a helping hand." And if there was ever a game that will keep your head bowed with both shame and humility, it's golf. I suppose that's why I've concluded my website bio with, "Chaplain Norris has a tattoo on his left shoulder to recall running two marathons of 26 miles, completing the 2013 Air Force marathon in a little over 5 hours. He still thinks he can play golf, but admits he is not yet to be trusted with keeping accurate score." See you on the greens. Join Norris Burkes this Sunday at Community Church in Nevada City, where he'll share more humbling teachings at 10:30 a.m. Find the church at 300 Main St. Read all his columns at www.thechaplain.net. Send comments to comment@thechaplain.net or 10566 Combie Road, Suite 6643, Auburn, CA 95602.