The Unclad Soul

Stephen Paddock, the mass murderer in Las Vegas, continues to puzzle law enforcement and investigators. He will most likely never be understood. As I mentioned in my last essay and blog post, I think we have to seriously rethink our humanity, and consider how vulnerable we all are both personally and as a society, to the deadly effects of mental illness. This is not something new, and it is not something that will go away. I have no confidence in our political system to do anything useful regarding gun legislation. Congress will talk about it, offer their empty prayers to victims, and say perhaps the gun issue needs to be looked at. But the NRA has a death grip on Congress and state legislators across the nation. The NRA controls gun manufacturing, gun sales, and the gun lobby. Nothing will change there. Money, and lots of it, fuels our political system. Not the safety of the nation. Not the value of our children. Not the security of special events outdoors or indoors. The...

I was talking with a friend at work this week about the Las Vegas atrocity. Like everyone else in America, we both remain stunned by such a horrifying and cowardly taking of human life. My friend, deeply disturbed by it all, said, “Are we all capable of such a thing?” I thought a moment and said, “I think we may be.” He put his hands over his face and said, “Oh God, I don’t want to hear THAT!” I don’t want to hear it either, but he asked an important question. How does a seemingly rational person do what Stephen Paddock did? He was apparently not previously some deranged serial killer. We now know he seemed to have a pretty normal life. It is said he was not friendly or engaging, but there is no indication he was the monster he turned out to be. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the famous creator of the Sherlock Holmes series, a trained physician and himself a serious student of human behavior, once commented about the puzzling conduct of criminals. He said, “The most winning woman...

It saddens and frustrates me to see how religion and patriotism in America have created so much confusion and division in the last many years. The late 1970s brought us the Moral Majority, a loosely held crowd of extremely conservative believers led mainly by the Rev. Jerry Falwell, the wealthy and powerful fundamentalist minister reigning then in Lynchburg, Virginia. He became the voice of the Moral Majority and he masterminded the idea that conservative Christians should take over the government in all aspects of its leadership and influence. From the president and his cabinet to all of Congress, to state governors and state legislatures, all the way down to local school boards and polling captains. It took years, but it worked. Today, our government—national, state, and local—is heavily influenced by far-right, powerful politicians and other leaders who use highly conservative, in some instances, incendiary, religious propaganda in order to convince voters and donors to bot...

The earthquake near Mexico City this week has been devastating especially since they just had one a couple of weeks ago, in the southern part of the country. The death count continues to rise as more of the rubble is being cleared away. When I was a young minister in my first congregation years ago, people in my conservative rural church would have seen this, and frankly, all of the hurricanes and other natural disasters happening so frequently, as a sign of what was called “the end times.” Back then, I would speak about the “Rapture,” when Jesus will supposedly appear in the sky and magically, mysteriously, all true Christians will disappear from earth, ascend, invisibly, to meet him in the sky and then be transported to heaven while everyone else left here will suffer unbearable torment and eventually die and go to hell. My congregation loved this stuff and I have to say there was a sort of excitement in telling them all of the incredible details of this dramatic event, ...

I recently spent the weekend with my son, Luke, in southwest Oklahoma. He manages a large ranch there set in the hills of vast trees and rugged trails. I love going there because, for one thing, I get to spend time with him and his dogs, Maggie and Gus. And for another, I get to get out of the city and enjoy the peace and quiet of the country. The ranch is a majestic spot set on nearly 3,000 acres and Luke has transformed it into a real paradise. The grounds around the ranch house, the barn, the shed, and the corral are immaculate. Big trees stand by the house and shade the nearby fire pit. It’s a perfect spot for morning coffee or friends around a fire at night. There are cattle and horses that Luke tends to and across the rolling hills deer graze and raise their heads to stare if Luke and I pull up in the gator. Then they take off, running elegantly into the woods. There are various tanks on the ranch, both large and small ponds. In the largest one Luke and I have fished...

The remarkable Polish poet, Czeslaw Milosz, once wrote, “This hasn’t been the age for the righteous and the decent.  I know what it means to beget monsters  And to recognize in them myself.”  It is an appropriate indictment of our own day and of our own selves. I keep telling myself that what we are experiencing in our country is just a phase, something we have gone through before, where people who turn loathsome and violent, enormously greedy and arrogant, will change. That these dark clouds of hostility hovering over us will pass and the sunlight of decent behavior will shine again. But there is something alarmingly stubborn about the indignity, prejudice, violence, division and hatred among us. We seem stuck in a continuous atmosphere of rancor and bitter estrangement. And it is disturbing and frightening that our leaders seem incapable or not interested in changing the nation’s oppressive mood. Our media, in all of its forms, is clearly geared t...

The world is yearning. America is yearning. We are yearning. I am yearning. What is this longing in us? What necessary thing is it that we yearn to know or have or experience? Writer, essayist, and editor, Rebecca Solnit, has written: “For many years, I have been moved by the blue at the far edge of what can be seen, that color of horizons, of remote mountain ranges, of anything far away. The color of that distance is the color of an emotion, the color of solitude and of desire, the color of there seen from here, the color of where you are not. And the color of where you can never go.” These are beautifully haunting words. Haven’t we seen the distant horizon and felt its pull, its mystery? That distance, as Solnit describes it, “the color of solitude and of desire, the color of there seen from here, the color of where you are not. And the color of where you can never go.” Such powerful thoughts. That “blue at the far edge of what can be seen,” lures us and, perhaps, ta...