The Unclad Soul

And now, the struggle for authenticity beckons. The fight for what is real in our world, in our nation, and in ourselves, that fight exists whether we participate in it or not. War is real. Syria is real. Children dying, their small bodies broken in pieces, blood running from their frail faces. That is real. Iraq is real. Afghanistan. Yemen. The horror that stalks the days there, the screams heard through the nights. The innocent brutalized. The cities decimated. Those are all real. We ignore it. We pretend those things are far away from here, that we are not a part of it, that we have no responsibility for it. We close our eyes, our minds, our hearts to it. I can’t turn away, can you? And here, in dear old America, our flag sags under the weight of our mutual shame. Reagan’s tired description of us, “a shining city on a hill,” rings discordant, empty, false. We do not shine; we are tarnished with the stains of our selfishness, our shallow cravings, our racism and ...

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 excruciatin...

In the holiday classic, “It’s A Wonderful Life,” George Bailey loses it all. His small building and loan company appears bankrupt due to Uncle Billy’s foolish misplacement of their funds. Believing he had nothing to live for except ruin and disgrace, George jumps off a bridge in desperation. He is rescued by Clarence, an odd, elderly angel still trying to get his wings. As they are both drying out from the cold water below the bridge, George tries to understand what is happening: George : Look, who are you? Clarence : I told you, George. I'm your guardian angel. George : Yeah, yeah, I know. You told me that. What else are you? What...are you a hypnotist? Clarence : No, of course not. George : Well, then, why am I seeing all these strange things? Clarence : Don't you understand, George? It's because you were not born. George : Then if I wasn't born, who am I? Clarence : You're nobody. You have no identity. George : What do you mean, no identity? ...

I Took My Daughter to the End of the World I took my daughter to the end of the world And showed her the carnage and death We walked through the ruins of Syria and Iraq And we saw things no humans should see There were children in blood and mothers in tears And fathers alone in the streets Bombs were falling not far away While the rubble and chaos   were   near There were screams of pain There were screams of fear And my daughter said, Daddy, Why is this happening here? And back in the States where the power resides People don’t think of the end of the world We’re taking vacations on beautiful beaches And buying new cars and sleeping in peace Our homes are intact and there’s plenty of food There are concerts to attend and ballgames to watch Our politicians grow old in their greed and indifference While the Church sings its empty hallelujahs The people with influence who could make something happen Do nothin...

While the Paris nightmare was going on last weekend I was safe in Los Angeles with my son Caleb and my daughter-in-law Kameron and my little grandchildren Avery and Austin. It was the weekend of Avery’s 6 th birthday and we all had such a nice time together. I caught glimpses of the terrorist attack on my phone and here and there on television. Late at night before I went to sleep I would check the Internet on my phone to see the latest details. My heart was broken by the tragedies in Paris. So many people killed on a lovely Friday evening while sitting in bistros and cafes or attending a concert or the theater. I thought of how precarious life is, and how fragile. I thought of all of those who didn’t get to go home to their loved ones that night. And the many still severely wounded and hospitalized. The agony of it all, the loss, is still with me. In the meantime I was surrounded by love. Caleb and Austin picked me up from the airport Thursday and as I got into the car I hea...

I am struggling more and more every day to understand the Syrian humanitarian crisis. I sympathize with those fleeing trying to save themselves and their families from the horrors happening every hour in Syria, horrors that have gone on far too long. It doesn’t matter to me whether they are refugees or migrants, they are escaping for their lives and any hope of a future, and they deserve a safe place to live. Have you seen Syria? Who can live there now? It is a place of utter devastation and ruin. Why aren’t the Arab nations, including Egypt, Israel, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates doing more to help these people? Why aren’t we? So far, according to NPR radio, we have taken in 1,500 refugees. That’s deplorable. I know we have given money and arms and the Syrian catastrophe is a complex situation but surely we can do better to help these desperate people. European nations have so far, except for Germany, been stubbornly indifferent to the mass of refugees risking their lives to g...

Last Sunday night I attended what was called a Candle Light Vigil for Syria.  My friend Charlie Johnson who spoke at the event invited me.  Charlie is the pastor of Bread Fellowship in Fort Worth and had been tweeting for weeks about the tragedy in Syria.  Some Dallas Syrians picked up his tweets and invited him to join in the vigil and to share his thoughts. Around 9pm about 75 people gathered at the Grassy Knoll in Dealey Plaza in downtown Dallas to remember the ongoing suffering of the people of Syria who live under the endless brutality of the Assad regime. Descriptions of some of the horrors of the conflict were read.  Poems and prayers were given.  People lit candles and raised them in solidarity.  There were speakers, including Charlie, whose own words were calm and encouraging but passionate and wise. As far as I could tell Charlie and I were the only ones there who were not of Syrian descent.  I had hoped there might be a more di...