The Unclad Soul

In my innocence I grew up believing in the goodness of people and all things. My parents and grandparents modeled this in front of me. I saw in them patience. Joy. Human warmth. Integrity. I felt their love and affection. I observed and absorbed their goodness.  I grew up extremely sheltered because of this. My world was small, provincial, full of church life.  I had great school friends. As a teen my buddies were not necessarily honor roll, but they were smart, athletic, and fun to be around. My girlfriends were cute, clever, flirtatious and, yes, honor roll.    Aren’t most girls? In college I wanted to be a broadcast journalist. I loved my speech and radio and TV production classes. But then, after an emotional church service I attended, I believed, as it was described then, that I was being “called into the ministry.” It wasn’t until I had my first rural church as a single, young, naive minister, barely out of college, that I began to understand t...

Rumi, the gifted Persian mystic, wrote, “There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.” That voice is heard when we make love; whenever we love others; when we are kind to people. It is the voice that confirms the authenticity of our relationships. The voice that doesn’t use words, stirs within us when we struggle to make the right choices. It reminds us of what is good. It warns us of what will harm us or others. That voice carries, wordlessly, messages in our spirit, in the soul, that urge us to be a better human than we are, to refuse to give in to primitive instincts, haughtiness and meanness, and instead live an exceptional life. It is the voice of maturity, of personal growth, of emotional depth and discipline. The voice that does not use words is heard in quiet moments, in times of solitude, when the mind is clear, and the heart is receptive. It is also heard in the face of fear when we hesitate and shy away from what may cost us something but what we kno...

For the past three summers, my daughter Ingrid and I and her family, have gone to the beach in Destin, Florida. This summer, because of scheduling conflicts and other special family events, we didn’t get to go. And I have to say, I miss the ocean. One of the first things I do when I get there is to walk out into the clear emerald water and stare out over the horizon. The scene is vast and mesmerizing. What is out there, far beyond what I can see? I wonder. Giant ships sail slowly by in the distance. A speed boat will move across the waves now and then, far enough out you can barely see the people on deck. Seagulls fill the sky and the noise they make is not at all disturbing but adds to the beauty in front of me. They seem to be singing as they dip toward the beach in search of food. But on farther out, past any sight of boats or ships, the ocean remains, enormous and limitless, disappearing from view. Loren Eisley, the brilliant anthropologist, once said, “If the...

I want to stand under a wild sky at night and hear the ancient stories the stars tell. I want to get lost in the wonder of trees lining a country lane and welcome the breeze that refreshes and soothes. I want to swim in the ocean and feel the soft weight of the water hold me in the rhythm of its support. I want to watch children play and relish the freedom in their laughter and remember again what innocence is. I want to make friends with a lonely dog and walk with it along the beach and rest in the grass with its head on my chest. I want to stand in a garden of flowers and disappear in their color and drink in their fragrance. I want to be with people of character and depth and withdraw into the intimacy of affection and know again the worth of my humanity. I want to experience the fundamental powers that define me and believe in my own dignity and authenticity. I want to examine the truths that are pillared in my soul and honor the stability of their influence. I want to...

(This week was my brother's birthday. This is for him.) The weeks have scurried on and turned into months now and still you are gone, but, here as well. There are remembrances of you, photos, emails, and memorials, both small and large. Your voice is in my memory and now and then I hear you speak, recalling old phone conversations where together we cursed politicians, phony preachers, a sleeping church, and, where we replayed the last major golf tournament, Tiger’s life collapse, Phil’s implausible shot, Rory’s power swing, and Spieth’s relentless grit and skills. We grieved Mom’s difficult life, Dad’s mysterious remoteness, and our own flaws and foibles and foolishness. And, there is your laughter, still floating in my consciousness; a laugh that drew you up, shoulders raised, head lifted, eyes closed, a sort of breathless moment of immobility, slow motion seconds of you drinking in great gobs of elation and jubilance ending in coug...

The human body – what a miracle. Despite all we do to it—abuse it, take it for granted, it still operates with amazing precision. Walt Whitman wrote, “If anything is sacred, the human body is sacred.” It is more than a work of art; it is the work of genius. The mind – a complex computer with nearly unlimited capacities. Think of all we do without even thinking about it. Breathing, swallowing, sleeping, waking, walking, running. My typing, at this moment, without actually thinking about it, my fingers run across the keys effortlessly as though they somehow instinctively find the right letters on their own. It’s all the involuntary work of the mind. Creation gave us a brain but life gives us a mind. If we are aware, life will feed and nurture our mind. The ancients called the mind “a palace.” Such a gift. Intimacy – touching, kissing, making love, holding one another; it’s all so vital to our humanity. We shrivel and withdraw, we isolate and grow remote when there is no real i...

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...

I recently spent a day in Oklahoma City with my brother, Jim, who has muscular dystrophy. He fell at home a few weeks ago and had to have surgery. He is now in a rehabilitation center. The doctors and physical therapists are trying to get him to a place where he will have some measure of independence. He will not, however, be able to return home. It’s possible that he could go into assisted living, but more probably, he will have to go to a nursing home and live there. He is facing all of this with a lot of heart and reality. He knows his health has seriously deteriorated and   living   alone is no longer an option for him. But he is also experiencing, understandably, a certain sadness about his situation. I feel sad for him as well. Jim was once a tall, healthy, athletic guy. He played baseball in high school. Was a terrific swimmer. He loved to play golf. In his late 20’s he began to experience a weakness in his arms and legs. As time went by and his symptoms worsen...

In the movie, “The Adjustment Bureau,” ambitious politician David Norris (played by Matt Damon) and rising star ballerina Elise Sellas (played by Emily Blunt), fall in love. All is well until their romance is abruptly interrupted by mysterious forces. The Adjustment Bureau is a team of men in dark suits and felt hats who pull various maneuvers in an attempt to keep the couple apart. For reasons we’re not clear about, the Chairman (God?) of the Bureau (Heaven/Eternity?) sees trouble with this relationship. It does not fit into his “plan” for either of them. After a series of odd and sometimes dangerous situations, David Norris, in a clandestine meeting arranged by the Bureau, is confronted by a dignified man in a suit and hat named Thompson who is some sort of senior advisor to the Chairman. He has a serious discussion with Norris in which Norris is told in no uncertain terms that he is to no longer see Elise. Or else his memory will be erased and he’ll be, well, a blank sl...

“Our culture has filled our heads but emptied our hearts, stuffed our wallets but starved our wonder. It has fed our thirst for facts but not for meaning or mystery.”   ―   Peter Kreeft ,   Philosophy Professor/Boston College

“It’s not what you look at that matters; it’s what you see.”  ~ Henry David Thoreau

“Religion can be a bridge to the spiritual, but the spiritual lies beyond religion.”  ~ Rachel Naomi Remen, Physician/Author

“I should understand the land, not as a commodity, an inert fact to be taken for granted, but as an ultimate value, enduring and alive, useful and beautiful and mysterious and formidable and comforting, beneficent and terribly demanding, worthy of the best of man's attention and care.”  ―  Wendell Berry , Poet/Novelist/Writer