Skip to main content

We Have to Carry the Fire

The Syrian conflict defies reason. What is it about? No one knows. The Syrian government, the Russian government, the US government, and ISIS terrorists—we are all a part of a bloody, inhumane slaughter of innocents.

Our news sources are unreliable. We really have no idea what is going on. We see the devastation and the carnage, the heartbreaking chaos, and suffering. But it all goes around in vicious cycles of obscene violence and endless death and no one has any explanation or solution. Other than who can be the most ferocious in war.

Our entire political leadership, from President Trump and the full Congress, all the way down to state governments, Texas most notably, are so arrogantly polarized, so consumed with indifference to real life and death issues, to actual living people, that they have nothing helpful or in any way substantial to offer a warring world.

Yes, someone is responsible for the chemical explosion in Syria that brought horrifying misery and excruciating death to so many men, women, teens, and children. But the politics of this and the pathetic political infighting of our leaders make it impossible to identify the real murderers.

And so the blame game carries on without end. While Syria and much of the world teeters on the brink of a human catastrophe beyond description, our leaders wrangle over their right to be right, their cozy selfish places of power, their infantile moods of entitlement; and we are left with their intransigent refusal to cooperate for the good of the nation or the world.

I may be an idealist but I’m not naive. There has always been terror and war and human hatred and violence one against another. But we seem now to be in some alarming new dimension of all of that.

Shakespeare said, “It is excellent to have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.” We seem to have lost all perspective when it comes to our power. And our wielding our power like a giant across the Middle East has created enormous disorder and lawlessness by terrorists, by dictators we have coddled and attempted to manipulate, and by old allies disillusioned by our aggressive and often careless interventions into the politics and governing of other countries.

America is in a leadership crisis. We need men and women who have a vision larger than their own careers, their own personal ambitions. The world has often looked to us for that kind of guidance from our president and the Congress. And history shows more than once we offered wisdom and humanity in our responses. We need that now.

Cormac McCarthy’s novel, “The Road,” is a disturbing and frightening journey of a father and son in a future world at the end of civilization. A dark, withering and diabolical planet is dying and everything in it. The man and his boy travel through unimaginable terror and threats on a road to nowhere.

Near the end, the father, wounded and exhausted, implores his young son to endure, to go on. In a moment of tenderness in the midst of this collapse of humanity, he tells his son:

“You have to carry the fire.”
“I don’t know how to.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Is the fire real? The fire?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Where is it? I don’t know where it is.”
“Yes, you do. It’s inside you. It always was there. I can see it.”

It’s in us, too. We cannot let it be extinguished. Not now. Not ever. The future of everything depends on that fire.


© 2017 Timothy Moody

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

We are Made for Human Connection

There are words from Brandi Carlile’s song, “The Story,” that I might sing, and perhaps you, too. “All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to” You don’t have to be single or alone to feel the depth of those words. Someone in a longtime marriage or relationship might feel them, too. The voyage through life takes each one of us through an assortment of experiences. Some of them ennoble us. Some crush us. Some lift us beyond ourselves and carry us into the lives of those who need us. And some carry us to those we need. Some experiences are burdens. Others ease and encourage us. Some leave us baffled and unsure. Some build confidence within us and are so affirming that we grow in substance, in courage, in tenderness, and sympathy. As we age, the lines in our faces can represent the hurts we have not yet resolved. Or t

If I had five minutes to evacuate--what would I take with me?

If I was told there was a bomb in my building and I had five minutes to evacuate my apartment I’d grab a grocery bag and quickly toss these items into it: 1. A photo of my grandparents, Mom and Pop and me, when I was 15 years old. I learned what love is made of from them. I learned what it is to be kissed on and hugged in arms so tender they felt like God’s arms. I discovered self worth from those two angels in human flesh. Of all the people in my life, they were the ones who made me feel I counted. Honestly, whatever capacity I have to love others came from them. 2. A sentimental, dog-eared, stars in the margin copy of Pat Conroy’s, “The Prince of Tides.” It is a book I have read three times and often return to for its wisdom. It is a harsh, profoundly tragic novel, the story of a family so broken and tortured by such flawed and wounded people that it is sometimes difficult to turn the next page. And yet it is the story of such Herculean courage and endurance that you want

Remembering Dr. Bill Craig

In Memoriam  Dr. Bill Craig January 1, 2020 In the Hebrew Bible, we see from the life of Moses, and the Psalmist, Isaiah and others , concern for the problem of living rather than the problem of dying.   Their primary interest was not how to escape death, but rather, how to sanctify life. Bill modeled that kind of wisdom.  The brilliant novelist Louis L'Amour, who wrote bestselling books about the American West, what he called “frontier stories,” basically said the same thing. He wrote, “The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail.” No one attempted to sanctify life and get more out of the trail than Bill Craig. He was a deep thinker, a gifted veterinarian, a rugged and unbreakable man with the kindest heart and the purest motives.  He was a loving and devoted husband, father, and grandfather. Karen, Shalor and Melissa, Kellan, Nolan and Carter, were his world. They meant everything to him. I guess he had faults, but I don’t remember any of them.  There was o