The Unclad Soul

The 2019 movie, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, is a stunning representation of deprived destiny and lost love. Centered around a wondrous coastal landscape in Brittiany in the late 1700s, the story centers on two young French women—Marianne, an artist and painter, and Heloise, recently cloistered in a convent and brought home to enter an arranged marriage. Her sister, who was supposed to marry the man, had killed herself by jumping off a cliff into the sea. Heloise is to take her place. Heloise, however, has no interest in the marriage and is angry that her mother has placed her in the arrangement. As was the custom then, a portrait was to be made of the bride-to-be and sent to the groom to approve of his future wife. But Heloise refused to sit for a portrait and had already chased off a painter frustrated by the experience. Enter Marianne. Brought in as simply a companion for Heloise until the marriage was finalized, her real purpose was to get to know Heloise and from snip...

(Spoiler Alert: You may not want to read if you haven’t yet seen the movie.) I saw this past weekend the movie, “The Peanut Butter Falcon,” starring Shia LeBeouf as Tyler, Dakota Johnson as Eleanor, and new to the screen, an actor with Down Syndrome, Zack Gottsagen. His character, Zac, is a young man with Down Syndrome living in a nursing home where Eleanor, a kind and attractive staff person is assigned to him. Zac hates where he is and longs to leave. His roommate Carl, (longtime actor, Bruce Dern) is an elderly man who likes Zac and encourages him in his quest to leave. He knows he doesn’t belong there. Eleanor knows this, too, but she has no options for Zac since he has no parents or family to care or provide for him. Tyler (LeBeouf) is a failed crab fisherman, a sort of drifter and rebel who lives by his own rules. He wears the same dingy t-shirt, faded cap, stained shorts, and scruffy beard through the whole movie, and you begin to forget the actor and believe the c...

There is a beautiful line from poet and author Wendell Berry, “We hurt, and are hurt, and we have each other for the healing. It is always healing. It is never whole." That sums up quite nicely a large part of our purpose on earth. After the passing of time and the living of life, we know too well that we hurt others and they hurt us. Life is an ongoing process of learning how to navigate this uneven path we are all on. And in the midst of our hurting and being hurt there are those who are there for our healing. This is a fundamental part of parenting. Our children, if they are to be themselves fully alive, emotionally healthy, and self-directed, must never doubt they are loved by their parents. And that whenever they fail, or get in trouble, or suffer illness, there will be healing at home. This, too, is the core work of marriage, of spending life with a partner, of committing oneself to another person in a relationship of trust, intimacy, and love. Being a s...

In the long search for life’s meaning, and its joy, there is stumbling and pause; error, setbacks, and defeat. There are times when, despite our best efforts, we never find the path, and we stay too long on the mistaken road. There are times of deep anguish and a sense of loss that moves all the way into that space that defines us, and leaves us doubting our worth. Love for or from another that languishes and dies. The faded memories of a time when we thought there could be no end to the feelings of togetherness and rightness. We learn the dreams and innocence of our youth are often replaced with the hard realities of adulthood. We discover that those blissful days when the world seemed safe and home was love and people were kind, don’t protect us from a world where it all can become phony, selfish, and mean. When others we trust, even love, betray our loyalty and leave us in something broken and pointless. We experiment with relationships, with marriage, with intimacy, an...

And in this season we call Christmas and Holidays, Kwanzaa and Hanukkah, Germany’s Saint Nicholas’ Day, and the Philippines’ Giant Lantern Festival, Columbia’s Day of Little Candles, and Toronto’s Cavalcade of Lights, France’s Joyeux Noël, and Russia’s Grandfather Frost, let us find unity, cooperation, friendship. Let us revel in the pretty lights and the decorated trees, the wintry days and the cozy nights, the happy faces and the party fun. Let us feel the grief of the losses of others, the struggling families in an unbalanced economy, the addicted caught in some endless torment, the shamed haunted by a long-ago abuse, the ill unable to enter into the many festivities, the lonely shut off from the busy happy crowds, the prisoners locked in their regrets and dishonor, the mentally infirm whose minds no longer work and whose memories have lost their power. It is a season of birth, of lights, of glory. It is a time to remember the...

There are secrets that are frozen In the deepest places of our soul. They cannot be unearthed, Yet they cannot be unknown. We have dreams that are lost In the recesses of our sleep. We have longings too deep to reach Across anxieties we cannot breach. There are spaces for love We hold for future opportunities. They are kept in the privacy Of our simple soulful duties. We have a heavy broken burden That we carry through the years. It’s a wistful painful memory Of our losses soaked in tears. There are questions we still can’t answer, Things we wearily want to know. But life is not an easy equation One can quickly solve and own. There are journeys alone to take And experiences with others to share. There are changes we have to make And realities we have to bear. And finally accept the mystery of things We cannot ever know. And find the hard fought truce within That if we honor lets us grow. © 2017 Timothy Moody

"I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life. I've learned that making a ‘living’ is not the same thing as making a ‘life.’ I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one. I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a ...

Note: This is the eulogy I delivered at my brother Jim's funeral, Tuesday, February 28, 2017 In Memoriam Rev. James C. Moody August 7, 1956 – February 24, 2017 Jim loved the movies. There was nothing he enjoyed more than sitting in a dark theater watching a great movie, with a bag of popcorn, a soda, some cheese nachos, a slice of pizza, a hot dog with chili and jalapeños, and a big candy bar. Going to a movie was like a family reunion for him. It was a meal. An event. He didn’t just watch movies, he looked for insights from them, for life lessons that he carried into his ministry, his preaching, and his own living. That’s what movies are supposed to do—teach us, move us, transform us—take us out of our lives for a couple of hours and then put us back in them wiser and more human.  Come to think of it, that is what church is supposed to do, as well. Jim understood that. We had a debate over the movie “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” It’s one of my favorites. Aud...

The movie, “Collateral Beauty,” deals with vitally important themes. For me, it fell short in many ways. There were moving moments, to be sure. The all-star cast made good attempts, but they distracted me. I kept seeing them as the movie stars they are and not as real characters in a difficult story. The film centers on an advertising executive, played by Will Smith, who three years earlier lost his young daughter to a fatal illness. His grief has crippled him and he is lost in bitterness and silent rage. He spends his days building colorful, elaborate domino mazes that he then collapses. It’s an obvious metaphor of his life and the shattering of his spirit and soul. He created his ad company on the basis of three imperatives: Time, Love, and Death. These, he told his colleagues and employees, are what connect us to all things fundamental to our well-being. He wanted his ad agency to reflect these themes in all aspects of its work. And yet, in his tormenting loss, he sees thes...

There is a scene in the famous series, “Mad Men,” where Don Draper and Roger Sterling are sitting in Don’s office having a drink. Don is an advertising genius and ad man. Roger inherited the agency from his father, and though plenty smart, he sort of just provides advice and insights to the rest of the staff. He and Don are talking about the firm and the problems they are facing with both old and new clients. As Don pours them a drink, they have this exchange: Roger : I bet daily friendship with that bottle attracts more people to advertising than any salary you can dream of. Don : It's the way I got in. Roger : So enjoy it. Don : I'm doin' my best here. Roger : No, you're not. You don't know how to drink. Your whole generation, you drink for the wrong reasons. My generation, we drink because it's good, because it feels better than unbuttoning your collar, because we deserve it. We drink because it's what men do. Don : What about shaky hands, ...

In my sleep, I was visited by a man in a flannel shirt with autumn colors in small squares. He wore a solid brown necktie unloosed at the collar. His hair was white and bushy, sort of like Einstein’s. He smoked a pipe and had the voice of Gandalf, Ian McKellen’s great character in The Lord of the Rings. There was nothing menacing or alarming about his presence. He spoke softly, quietly. His face was rugged and carried deep lines of age and wisdom.  His eyes, blue and intense, were nevertheless warm with soft light in them. He reminded me of my maternal grandfather whom I called Pop, a big loving man with a deep Southern drawl. I told the gentleman this and he said, “You can call me Pop if you want.” I said, “Ok.” “What troubles you?” he asked, as he put fresh tobacco in his pipe and lit it. It smelled of cherries or cloves or something sweet and delicious. “I wonder if I got it all wrong,” I said. “How so; got what wrong?” “People. Life. Meaning,” I said, a...

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. In Jesus’ day mourning was serious business. People suffering loss or some inner wound would go out into the streets and tear at their clothing. They would scream and weep in agony. They would gather a handful of dirt and pour it over their heads and let it mingle in their tears. It was a sign of their connection with their mortality, their belonging to the earth where sorrow breeds. They would wrap themselves in the arms of others. They didn’t lose themselves in mindless work or distract themselves in foolish activity. Grieving hurt. Mourning meant something. And I think what Jesus is saying here is: be open to the wounds of the world and to your own. Mourn the hurting of people and when you yourself hurt. Weep over the suffering of humanity and your suffering, too. Don’t hide from it. Don’t attempt to chase it away with meaningless clichés or empty escapes. Feel it and be moved. We are to mourn the deaths of those we l...

“Perhaps we just need little reminders from time to time that we are already dignified, deserving, worthy. Sometimes we don't feel that way because of the wounds and the scars we carry from the past or because of the uncertainty of the future. It is doubtful that we came to feel undeserving on our own. We were helped to feel unworthy. We were taught it in a thousand ways when we were little, and we learned our lessons well.”   ―   Jon Kabat-Zinn, Physician/Author

 "It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it." ~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Writer/Mystic

Before anything else is said this needs to be said. Suicide is not a stain on anyone’s name or life. Suicide is a human tragedy and like any death we mourn it as an incalculable loss. There are many reasons, often legitimate reasons, why someone chooses to take their own life. It is not a cowardly act. I can’t imagine anything more difficult to do.  And the truth is we all have the right to that choice if we decide to take it. I’ve heard all of the clichéd prohibitions to suicide and I reject them all. Religious people have often been carelessly insensitive about this, condemning suicide as a sin. Sincere but misguided ministers, of all faiths, and others can be too quick to weigh down the families of suicide members with guilt and shame claiming it an unforgivable act and making references to Judas selling out Jesus and then hanging himself. Death is always a deep human loss in whatever form it comes. Suicide should not be compartmentalized into some extreme form of d...