The Unclad Soul

I don’t know if there is a heaven or  if there is a hell; but I know where paradise is.  Out in the country where the cattle graze, where the dogs play,  where the trees hang low  and the pace is slow.  Out along the old dirt roads where the fields are plowed and the wheat is sowed; and up on the hills, where the big bucks hide, and down below where the field mice crawl and the chicken hawks fly.  Paradise is where the fire pit burns and the beers are consumed,  where the laughs are shared and the city’s lampooned.  It’s cold nights in the warm house where the TV lights the dark, and the recliner welcomes with a comfortable embrace and the journey of sleep starts.  It’s morning dew  when the air is clean and the grass shimmers in the sun. It’s daily chores and work well done; it’s the flutter of birds over the trees, down in the low spots where the creeks run. It’s the end of d...

You probably know by now that Mary Oliver is one of my favorite writers. She was a poet and essayist and was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in literature some years ago. She died last year. But she left a treasure of books of poetry and essays that will enlighten and thrill readers for long years to come. In one of her books, she tells how each summer she would visit the beach. There she would collect various stones to take home with her at the end of her trip. She would later put them in a glass vase, fill it with water, and display it in her living room. She noticed that the water in the vase would eventually disappear. She assumed it just vaporized into the air. But she was curious, so she filled the vase again and sealed the top with aluminum foil. As days went by the water slowly vanished. And Mary Oliver decided the stones were thirsty and were drinking the water. She admitted she didn’t have conversations with the stones, and she was sure they didn’t have feelings as we do. Bu...

It is a sad conclusion on my part that religion today is failing us. It has, historically, had a shady past creating some of the most brutal and oppressive acts on human life in spite of whatever good it has produced. But today, worldwide, it is often the fuel of cruel prejudices, hatred, and violence. The wars of the Middle East all have their origins in religious disputes. In Iraq, Afghanistan, Yemen, and Iran, religious clashes and the refusal to honor other beliefs, often just other interpretations of their own beliefs, have led to the slaughter of millions of helpless people. Today, Evangelical Christianity, in our own nation, has become one of the most confusing, deceptive, shallow and self-serving belief systems anywhere. The hypocrisy of modern Christianity has swallowed it whole and left it a mocked and rejected object of derision. Clearly, there are exceptions. But a wide-spread image of religion in our world today is one of withering decay. I grew up in the...

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...

America, whatever our crimes have been, your justice has made attempts to make it right. Whatever wrong paths we have taken as a nation, you have always tried to get us back on track. Whatever misguided, immoral, and cruel acts we have committed, you have sought to have us correct our wrongs and provide a more superior kind of behavior. I remember your goodness. America, when other countries have needed our military to help defend against tyranny, oppression, and the evil of ruthless dictators, you sent our troops, not to indiscriminately kill civilians, children, or the old, but to break the spirit of the enemy into surrender. You never advocated actions that betrayed the meaning of our flag or violated the value of our Constitution. I remember your goodness. America, you intended our political system to be one of honor, a process that operated in the advancement and respect of our freedom, that held our public officials accountable to high standards of conduct, that...

I did not grow up being challenged to think for myself, about other races, about other religions, about anything that was different from or opposite of the ideas, beliefs, and values of my parents. My parents were loving and sincere, but fear guided their beliefs and their behavior. Fear of God’s punishment, fear of wrongdoing before the church, fear of what others thought about them, and so on. And that fear was communicated to me and my siblings. And it shaped, as is the case in most homes, how I viewed myself and the world. It was a confining and strict influence that often filled me with fears as well. This kind of parenting was common in my day, though I did have friends whose parents were much more lenient, open-minded, not fearful of others or new ideas, but willing to think through things and see a different perspective. I readily noticed that in those friends and their parents. Publicly, I spoke against them, saying they were liberal, or not real Christians, ...

It’s the beginning of a new week, and soon, a new month. Where did the time go? Weren’t we all swimming and grilling and taking vacations just a couple of weeks ago? Now the kids are all well into the school year. In a few days, it will be Halloween. And incredibly, it’s only 58 days until Christmas. Someone has said, “Life is not just the passing of time. Life is the collection of experiences and their intensity.” Well put. Not just a collection of experiences but also their intensity. Those are the moments that give life substance, affirmation, depth. Those are the times we remember. I attended a couple of birthday parties over the weekend. They were great times with family and friends I love. We shared food and drinks, laughter and fun, warm hugs and memories. There were children rolling in the grass, their tender faces bright with smiles, their small arms extended to receive squeezes and kisses. There were adult reminiscences, catching up on what’s new with on...