“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.”

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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.” 

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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.” 

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Three things I’m too clumsy to accomplish at church

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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.

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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. 

Syndicated columnist Chaplain Norris Burkes began his chaplain career with both the active-duty Air Force and the Air National Guard until his retirement in 2014. He later served as a board-certified healthcare chaplain at Sutter Memorial, Kaiser, Methodist and Mather VA hospitals and continues to work with area Hospice. His column is syndicated to more than 35 accredited news outlets. Read past columns at www.thechaplain.net.