Incarceration

                Recently I had cause to visit someone in jail; not a frequent activity for me. Perhaps that is a significant comment on the shallowness of my faith and witness. At any rate, I sat there waiting

under the harsh green fluorescent lights in an uncomfortable indestructible industrial chair facing a small computer screen behind a thick layer of Plexiglas listening to the conversations around me. I listened to a father pour out his love on a struggling son. Across the way and young mother held an infant up to the screen, hoping that somehow the video would help the father form a bond with the tiny baby. Next to me a grandparent tried to encourage a distraught grand-daughter. Pain, love, loss, and gain all mingled in that harsh room of steel and plastic. In that room lives either come together of fall apart. Loved ones make the trek to the edge of town to blunt the edge of despair. If you drive the road during visiting hours you might even see a mother pushing a stroller down the shoulder, hoping, perhaps praying for better days. Occasionally you catch a glimpse of someone walking down the road back toward town. Released from confinement, no one came to get them so they trudge down a dusty, windy, West-Texas road toward an uncertain future. In that room dreams, futures, and hopes flare and die.

                No one gives birth to a child they hope will end up incarcerated. We all hold our children hoping for a better future, one filled with joy and fulfillment. All too frequently I take the easy way out and think of those who traffic that room as somehow deserving of that fate. After all, if they only made better choice in life. That is an overly simplistic and grossly self-serving view. Yes, personal choice do result in a variety of consequences; however, that person in an orange jumper is someone’s little boy or girl. They ache and they hurt for them. Painted into a corner, some make awful choices thinking there is no other way.

I listened to one father implore his son, “Son, yah gotta listen to me. When you get out, get out of here. There is nothing but wage-slavery for young black man with a record in this town.”

We could quibble with him all day long about the goodness and truth of his advice. But we would miss, perhaps ignore, the pain and loss in that father’s advice. All father’s want to help guide their sons into successful adulthood. The best he could do was to urge his son to flee; find another place to grow.

                Somehow we must learn to see those who we’ve incarcerated as individuals. Yes, individuals who’ve made mistakes, some horrible and gruesome, but individuals that someone loves. We must never forget that God made them in His image and that He loves them. It may be that society must lock them away for a while. We need some level of good order and discipline in our world. But, they remain people, not numbers, not animals dressed in orange. Their families, even though they may be fractured and dysfunctional, love them. They undergo significant deprivation and humiliation through this process. They need some sort of sympathy a measure of tenderness.

               We must learn out to reach out to those families that suffer such indignity and loss. They need our sensitivity not our condemnation. Of course we can dissect their mistakes and rationalize our way to ignoring them, casting them aside like so much refuse. But, that ignores their very real pain and loss. It does nothing to help them move forward into a better place. It also virtually guarantees that the next generation will follow them into another industrial room where love, pain, loss and hope mingle and the best of them die.

Family Easter

                Easter. Mention this holiday and most of us think of Easter Eggs, Chocolate Bunnies, and Peeps. One of the many memories that flicker past on the silver-screen of my mind finds its origin in Fort Worth, Texas; about 1966 or 67. I was in either first or second grade. Brian, my brother, would have been around four or five. We’d moved to Fort Worth while my father attended TCU, finishing up his PhD. Those two years provide a store of pleasant memories. This is a simple one. We gathered around the kitchen table color eggs; nothing profound, deeply meaningful or revealing; just the four of us enjoying dyeing eggs a variety of pastels. My mother showed me how to put two colors on one egg. After a few tries, resulting in rather muddy colors, I got a nice blue and green one. I remember the pleasure mastery of such a simple skill generated. I wish I could attach some deep meaningful insight to this event. But, no, it’s just one of many happy memories from my life. It just happened to occur on, or near Easter. Today, Easter means much more to me.

                Yesterday we gathered as a family for supper. Saturday was the day we could all get together. Brian came over early in the morning and we started smoking the brisket. All day long he and I chased the shade across my backyard as pungent smoke drifted past, intermingling with the unstructured ebb and flow of conversation. About two-thirty or so my father showed up to elevate the discussion and then the rest of the clan trickled in. Sometime around five-thirty-ish we crowded into my kitchen, joined hands in prayer, and then fell to. As is usual, the food was excellent. Tiffany cranked out some outstanding baked beans, my mother baked like a fiend and produced delectable pecan-pies and blackberry tarts, Brian and I managed to smoke up some passable Brisket and pork-shoulder. The walls fairly shook with laughter. Later, after we were all sated, the younger generations repaired to the back porch for several hours of “spoons.” Eventually they all headed home and quiet reigned once again. Today we attended the early service at Turning Point Community Church. So what does all this have to do with Easter?

                In John 10:10, Jesus reminds that he came so that we might have life and that more abundantly. In our modern North American Christian context we often skew this passage into material abundance, disregarding the rich abundance of the relational life Jesus brings. From the simple coloring of eggs to the boisterous happy gathering round the table, Jesus’ resurrection inhabits our days. When Jesus shouldered our sin and shame, He enabled rich and meaningful relationships. Unencumbered by guilt we embrace each other with freedom and joy. Sadness, mistrust, and guilt have no place at the table in the love of Jesus. The empty grave reminds me that He took all of that away. When the angel rolled the stone away, he also rolled away all the things that hinder personal relationships. All those things, the pain, the hurt, the betrayal, the anger, bitterness, and resentment, that stand between family members He took away. During the last supper, Jesus speaks clearly about his impending betrayal to the apostles. They insist they would stand fast until the bitter end. Peter boldly declares that he would remain steadfast to death. We all know how this unfolds. Peter fails his Lord and himself and flees shedding tears of wretched personal bankruptcy. Three days pass.

               Among the first messages Jesus passes to His beloved, is one for Peter. It lets him know that what was broken is now mended. The wounded have been healed. His presence is cherished. Relationship is restored. The joyful family gatherings that have so marked my life came as a result of the empty tomb. Easter enables right relationships. We do not have to limp along pretending that all is well when it is actually frightfully wrong. Easter brings the exciting hope and reality of renewal. Our pleasant evenings full of laughter come not because we’re paragons of familial bonhomie. They are the result of the new life that spreads out in ever-widening ripples from the empty tomb. Easter mends things, even those fragile and so easily damaged family relationships. After Easter, laughter rings off the walls. 

Transformation

                A meal transformed. I gaze at my supper, laid out on the square plate; a grilled lamb-chop, some steamed Brussels-sprouts, unleavened bread and a glass of wine. The aroma of the grilled lamb-chop drifts up; a mélange of olive-oil, garlic, coarsely ground pepper, and fresh rosemary at once familiar and yet exotic. I do not often cook lamb or unleavened bread. Despite the busyness of the day and rapid approach of the hour of our departure for Good Friday I was compelled to make my own Seder (Passover). I let my mind drift back several millennia to the first transformative Seder. A people trapped in bondage hurriedly feast, anticipating their impending transformation. The salt and herb encrusted lamb speaks of the bitterness of bondage, reminding me of my own struggles against the fetters of sin. The bread speaks loudly of sustenance, transforming my weakness into strength. Its flatness whispers of a hurried flight from darkness into light. All of this washed down with wine, grapes transformed. For a few moments I, those ancient slaves, and all those believers in between gaze at each other across the table; laden with broken bread, lamb, and wine. All transformed by ultimate pascal lamb. A meal, a people, a man transformed by a single death, the ultimate sacrifice the true pascal lamb. 

Ghastly Images

                Ghastly images of dead and dying splashed across all forms of media last week. Once again, Bashar Al-Assad, the dictatorial ruler of Syria, gassed his own citizens in the seemingly endless civil war. Horrified, we struggle to find the tool or lever strong enough to force the

belligerents to set aside their enthrallment with violence and embrace a more pacific culture. Years of cajoling diplomacy, vague, and not so vague, threats produced very little. For some reason we find civilian deaths by conventional munitions acceptable; but, death by chemical weapons disturbs us greatly. Perhaps, the grisly implications of choking out our lives poisoned by the air we breathe frightens us. The depraved nature of this act moved President Trump to action. He chose a limited air-strike on the facility Al-Assad used to launch this most recent atrocity, hoping to send Al-Assad a clear message and deprive him of some of his military capability. Shortly after, Al-Assad launched yet another strike against the same city, this time with conventional arms. Death still called on some. No matter the cause, they remain dead and their families deprived of their presence grieve just the same. What is an appropriate response to such a dark situation?

                Elie Wiesel said, "We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented."  The airstrike satisfies some primal urge for order and vengeance within. We view the horrors and feel we must do something, punish someone. But such actions provide only transitory effects. We want long-lasting effects, changes that improve the lives of many citizens, changes that last for generations. These types of changes take concentrated effort for years. After the chaos and destruction of World War II we viewed a devastated Europe. Hitler and his fellow henchmen had rampaged across the continent, leaving death and destruction. The communists sought to fill the political and social vacuum they left. We responded with the Berlin Airlift, NATO, and more importantly the Marshall Plan. The Marshall Plan represented some $ 13 billion ($100 billion in 2003 dollars) in aid to Europe over an extended period of time. The Marshall Plan was not a simple transfer of cash. It also included assistance in the form of education and strengthening a various democratic institutions by helping Western-Europe recover quickly enough to avoid communist take-over. Our investment in time and resources enabled Western-Europe to enjoy over fifty years of peace and relative prosperity.

                We need to embrace a similar long look with the Middle-East. Yes, it will cost a lot. Yes, it will take time. Yes, it will be hard work and often messy. But, such an investment will pay great dividends. A prosperous and stable Middle-East is in all our best interests; however, we ought to willingly secure peace and prosperity for others. After all, our prosperity and peace came to us through the hard work and sacrifice of others. We ought to share our abundance willingly. Bombs and missiles may have a short-term effect; but, hard work and effort over the longer haul will last much longer. We must set aside our fondness for short term solutions. A serious investment of time and money may very well result in a stable region, one that does not require repeated infusions of munitions and personnel.

                In Romans Paul reminds us that rulers are God’s servants to execute His wrath on wrongdoers (Romans 13:3-5). This challenging passage reminds us that God expects civil rulers to keep good order and discipline. But, we must not look at that scripture alone. It is true that God expects leaders and nations to enforce laws and exact justice; however, we must not overlook the larger bulk of passages that enjoin us to provide for those less fortunate. Like Christ, we must willingly engage in the difficult work of love. We must love enough to engage and sacrifice. We enjoy great blessings, not to satiate our desires, but to help others. Perhaps if we look down the road we can envision a future worth investing in, a future worth our time and effort, a future where women and children need not gasp out their final moments in terror.

                

The Enemy

                I looked at the newly assigned NCO with misgiving. The Battalion Commander and Command Sergeant Major had talked to me about him. His struggles do not bear repeating in this venue. In my mind he remained damaged goods, a drag on my section. I and my subordinates knew him, knew his problems, and were not particularly interested in helping him sort through his issues. At this time I was a fairly new captain and served as the signal battalion representative in the Division Forward Command Post; better known as the D-TAC. An aggressive one-star general called this command post his home. Hoping to receive his second star and command his own division, he did not tolerate substandard performance in any fashion.  The Operations Sergeant-Major, an old and crusty NCO, had an even smaller reservoir of patience. After a couple of exercises and significant failures followed by tongue-lashings by various senior officers, including the general, I had had enough and met with the Battalion Commander, a Lieutenant Colonel.

                In very plain language I told the Battalion Commander that I wanted to rid myself, and my section, of this boat-anchor. I detailed numerous failures that had resulted in public humiliation for myself and others. His lackadaisical approach to soldiering forced others to work harder. A constant shirker, he frequently left tasks partially completed. His laziness forced me to check on him as I would a private, consuming precious time in our fast-paced high-pressure environment. Worst of all, he was senior to the rest of the NCO’s in my section and resented the fact that I placed more trust in the others. I went on at great length, eventually running out of steam with a glare. For a long time he stared off into space, saying nothing.

                Eventually he took off his helmet, set it on the hood of the HMMWV, ran his fingers through graying hair, sighed and turned to me. “Matt,” he said, “You must stop treating SFC Smith as if he was the enemy. He’s not the enemy. He’s a member of your team. You are an officer. You must rise above personnel issues. Focus on the mission. SFC Smith is your soldier. You must fix this problem.” And with those words, he recovered his helmet, strapped it on and walked back into his command post, leaving me with a different perspective on the challenging NCO.

                Eventually we sorted out our problems; though the NCO never did really fit in very well. We did come to terms with one another. We found ways to keep the Operations Sergeant Major and the General pleased. After a rather lengthy round of field training exercises the NCO submitted his request for retirement, which was approved, and moved on out of the army and my life.  But, I never forgot my commander’s admonition, “He’s not the enemy.” Sometimes we forget who or what the enemy is. We so fully believe in the rightness of our plan or cause, we refuse to consider others as part of the team or part of the solution. Such is the case in American politics and government today.

                We expend great efforts and go to great lengths to demonize those who disagree with us or our perceived solutions. Much of what passes for news is either an extended argument or polemic editorial disguised as news. So much antagonism, so much effort expended to discredit the other all in the name of political or party purity. These efforts consume vast amounts of institutional energy to no positive effect. Being right enthralls us; much more than finding some solution to our problem. We think of the other side as the enemy forgetting who the real enemy is. Poverty is the real enemy. Hunger is the real enemy. Ignorance is the real enemy. Fear is the real enemy. Sickness is the real enemy. Joblessness is the real enemy. Prejudice is the real enemy. Securing continued power is not success. Destroying the opposition is not success. A snarky comment in a public forum is not success. We must measure success by a reduction in those things that truly threaten us.

                My commander forced me to focus on my mission, providing uninterrupted secure communications for the Division leadership in a field environment. Unimpressed by my struggles with an NCO I did not respect, he reminded me that I would be measured by mission accomplishment and nothing else. We must hold elected officials to the same standard. We must expect them to work with the other side. Of course, this will result in solutions that do not fit into our personal political world-view. But, if these solutions result in a reduction of the enemy, perhaps we might need to rethink our political world-view. Just as my sergeant was not the enemy, the other side is not the enemy. We gain nothing by encouraging or even tolerating behaviors that focuses on savaging the other side. We must keep our focus on the enemy and work on weakening them and reducing their presence in our midst.

               For those of us who claim the name of Christ; we must remember Paul’s admonition in Ephesians 6:12, “¹² For we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.” No matter their political persuasion or personal philosophy, the person on the other side is not the enemy. Christ died for them just as much as he died for you, for me. We must learn to set aside our differences and work against our common enemy and all his minions.  

A Great Nation

                “Make America Great Again.” President Trump chose these words as his campaign slogan. Emblazoned across signs, bumper stickers, and hats this catchphrase helped propel him to the Republican candidacy and the White House. Never one to be encumbered by details or facts, President Trump provided few specifics on how he planned to make America great again. He frequently said it would be a beautiful thing, a wondrous thing, lovely to behold. Now a few short weeks into his tenure, President Trump remains a man unfettered by truths and one who eschews attention to detail; historical or present day. Yet through his actions, particularly his budget proposals, a clear picture of his vision of American greatness is emerging.

                What does it mean for a nation to be “great?” We use words rather casually; which is quite unfortunate as such casualness erodes accuracy. As an English teacher I often toss my students a dictionary, instructing them to look up the word they are unsure about. At first they recoiled at leafing through a dictionary, now they enjoy the task, knowing they will consume a few minutes of class-time, but more importantly, they will pin down the exact meaning of a word. Among the definitions of great you will find, wonderful; first-rate, very good, being such in an extreme or notable degree, notable, remarkable, exceptionally outstanding, and important, and highly significant or consequential. Great is a superlative word, indicating an exceptional level or quality. Something that sets the object described apart as unusual or somehow unique. The use of the term great specifies an uncommon level of attainment. Somehow the object described is far above, or below, normal. So what makes a nation great? What sets it apart in the community of nations that inhabit the globe? How do we differentiate between the best and the also rans?

                I would submit that great nations display the following characteristics; an unswerving devotion to human rights, a careful husbanding and development of resources human and natural, an ability to take the longer view diplomatically and sacrifice short term gain for the long term growth and stability of its international neighbors, and the conviction of and willingness to work and sacrifice to protect and invest in the weakest members of its society. These principles form the bedrock of national greatness. Ultimately great nations nurture and develop human potential; especially that of the weaker and disadvantaged. Lessor nations focus on the lessor goals of prosperity, power, and prestige. Forced by the function of budgetary recommendation, President Trump revealed his image of a great nation.

                President Trump’s budget focuses on growing the size of our military. Almost everything else shrinks as he and his advisors swing the axe of fiscal discipline. But it is not really an act of fiscal discipline. It discloses his priorities, those things he thinks worthwhile. The President and his cabinet believe that our greatness rests in tanks, fighter-jets, aircraft carriers, submarines, drones, missiles, bombs, and various branches of shadowy Special Forces. They couch greatness in terms of power-projection and the unspoken, but loudly shouted, threat of, “Do what we want, or we will destroy you.” This is the language of the bully, the tyrant, the abuser. Currently our military budget is larger than the next ten largest combined.¹ We have more aircraft carriers than the rest of the world combined.¹ Despite spending almost 4% of our GDP on a military behemoth, we now plan on increasing it.² All of this in the face of a non-existential threat. I say this as a veteran of twenty-seven years and multiple combat deployments; one who understands and believes in the necessity of a well-trained military. I remember and participated in the Cold War. I know how the insane calculus of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD) works. Today we must ask, who do we plan on using this giant stick against? What threat requires such aggressive brandishing? There are threats out there; North Korea for instance, but our current abilities far outstrip theirs. Our devotion to developing a massive military capability encourages other nations to do the same. We lead the world community in the senseless practice of consuming precious resources to feed the industrial-military-complex. Instead of working toward peaceful solutions we loudly proclaim our trust and dependence upon armed might. And we do so at great cost to our own prosperity and posterity.

                Looking at the President’s budget proposal we see a long list of budgetary items that we will no longer fund either at current levels or in some cases at all. The State Department faces a significant curtailment of resources. The Republican party which loudly and at great length criticized President Obama for failure in Benghazi now stands ready to reduce allocations to the State Department; allocations which might prevent a recurrence of that particular form of tragedy. We will no longer appropriately support the very department charged with avoiding the war we so fear. Other programs, such as the EPA, designed to protect the environment from which we reap vast abundance will no longer be able to complete their assigned mission. We stand ready to destroy the very blessing which sustains our prosperity. This budget exacts a human toll as well.

                The program which supports Meals On Wheels may very well disappear. Evidently we can no longer afford to feed the impoverished elderly and shut-ins in our country. In setting aside this program we turn our backs on those who labored to build the foundations of success on which we stand. The Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), Women, Infants, and Children (WIC) undergo draconian cuts. These programs help those less well-off and through stricter controls long and short term abuse have been significantly reduced. Apparently we can further expand our military, but we do not care to ensure that everyone in our nation can eat. Some of the programs now facing curtailment are the ones that help the weakest, most defenseless, in our society, the aged, infirm, and young. We can find the resources to invest in new weapons technologies, but we cannot invest in the hearts, minds, and souls of our own population.

                Among the programs slated for eradication are the National Endowment for the Arts and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. These programs, and others like them, provide a window into the broader artistic community and world at large. Many Americans were introduced to reading, writing, and arithmetic through such programs as Sesame Street and Mister Rogers Neighborhood. Without governmental support, American cultural life will suffer significantly. For the well-heeled, replacement is an easy thing. The middle-class and poor may find replacement impossible. President Trump’s budget seeks to close the window through which much of our nation views beauty and culture. The NEA helps fund the next generation of artists. Sometimes we may not like the art new artists produce. But, without our support they will not get better. Whatever your opinion of modern art, in the Presidents current proposal the arts suffer. While we can afford to field the next generation of fighter-jets, we cannot afford to feed the bodies or souls of our own population. White House Budget Director, Mick Mulvaney said, "Can we really continue to ask a coal miner in West Virginia or a single mom in Detroit to pay for these programs?" he continued, "The answer was no. We can ask them to pay for defense and we will, but we can't ask them to continue to pay for the Corporation for Public Broadcasting."³  I wonder how many of the coal miners or single mothers he has personally spoken to?

                As Mr. Mulvaney said, “This is a hard-power budget.”  But it is not a budget to make us a great nation. It will make us the most powerful nation, perhaps most powerful bully, in the world. If we wish to be great, we must embrace policies that make our nation a place worthwhile; a place in which one enjoys living. We cannot be proud of a nation which sends fleets around the world engaging in strong-arm tactics to exert our will while people starve within our own borders. We cannot be proud of a nation which enforces our desires by dropping bombs from drones in other countries while we raise up a massive uneducated lower-class which has no hope of climbing out. We cannot be proud of a nation where people die preventable deaths simply because we’re too selfish and short-sighted to develop a plan to provide universal health-care. It may be a hard-power budget, but the ones who will suffer the most are our own citizens. I believe we are better than this.

                We can educate and feed the poor. We can use our resources appropriately to ensure a thriving industry, feed ourselves, and preserve great beauty for future generations. We can defend ourselves and engage in long-term diplomacy that secures our borders and helps other countries develop peaceably. We can develop a rich artistic culture; one that feeds the soul as well as the body. All these things we can do. We are the nation that went to the moon in a decade. We are the nation that girded up our loins and defeated tyranny during WW II. We are the nation that stood resolute during the Cold War and found our way out of MAD. All these things we can do and be great.

                And for my friends who are Christians, Jesus laid out some interesting words on this subject. In Matthew 20:20-28 (ESV), Jesus upbraids the apostles for their lack of understanding regarding leadership. He reminds them that true greatness comes through servanthood. It says, “²⁵ But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. ²⁶ It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, ²⁷ and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, ²⁸ even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” If we wish to be a great nation we must be a nation that serves; each other and the rest of the world. I know that many of you will remind me that His words do not apply to governments. Perhaps, but if we wish to wrap ourselves in the mantle of a “Christian Nation,” we must structure our government appropriately. We cannot have it both ways. At a minimum we must agitate for caring for the weaker and less fortunate among us. We must embrace this concept to be great. Otherwise, we’re just the biggest bully on the block.

1. http://www.businessinsider.com/11-most-powerful-militaries-in-the-world-2014-4  

2. http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/MS.MIL.XPND.GD.ZS?end=2015&locations=US&start=1988

3. http://www.npr.org/2017/03/16/520401246/trumps-budget-plan-cuts-funding-for-arts-humanities-and-public-media

Other Interesting Reading:

https://www.cato.org/blog/budget-snapshot-average-annual-defense-spending-administration

The Truth and Only the Truth

                “This Senior Rater does not have enough time to evaluate the rated officer.” I read the words with great disappointment and bitterness. My company commander, sensing my dissatisfaction, offered a few mumbled words of encouragement which I shrugged off. I was a First Lieutenant in the U.S. Army and it was 1992 in Kaiserslautern, Germany. With the unexpected collapse of the Soviet Union the Army found itself much larger than the perceived threat. Looking to balance the budget, Congress had mandated a significant reduction in force; better known as the RIF. For a Lieutenant starting off a career Senior Rater comments meant the difference between promotion and discharge from the active force. An empty space in the Senior Rater portion of my Officer Evaluation Report (OER) was better than negative comments; but only marginally. This piece of paper in my record would not assist me in navigating the treacherous retention and promotion boards looming on the near horizon. It would show up as a flag, a discriminator, some excuse for a board to view me unfavorably. What made it so frustrating, so disappointing, was that ironic nature of the slight. It was not my fault; not anything that I had done caused this mediocre evaluation.

                My Battalion Commander had engaged in adultery. He’d become enthralled to a young specialist in one of the other units stationed in Pirmasens. Why is unimportant. He had a wonderful wife and children. He just succumbed to, as he put it, “the zipper disease.” His dalliances consumed him, absorbing hours he should have spent working. Eventually he repeatedly lied to the Brigade Commander to cover up absences from his assigned duties. The Brigade Commander lost faith and trust in his subordinate and relieved him for cause. He returned to the U.S. in disgrace to finish out his commitment and then retire, leaving the wreckage of a broken family and damaged careers in his wake. No board members would know the story; only the nagging question of why the empty spot? To make matters worse, I’d seen the evaluation he wrote. He’d penned glowing words, words that would have gone far in securing promotion and those plumb assignments all young officers craved. But, his breach of trust, failure to show himself truthful eradicated his ability to evaluate subordinates. If he could not be truthful in one area, why would the Army trust him in another area? Once lost, trust is ever so difficult to reestablish. The nagging doubt remains and trust elusively slips away. Fortunately for me, this was not the end of my Army story.

                Time passed. Assignments came and went; along with promotions. True, I had to wait for one promotion; but, it would be unfair to lay that at his feet. The blame for that belongs elsewhere. The dark night passed and my career recovered. But, I never forgot that particular lesson in truth. We must fully embrace a life lived in congruence with the truth; especially those of us who claim allegiance to the Lord. Truth, and an unflinching adherence to it, form the basis, the foundation, the cornerstone of all public service. To deviate from the truth, to obfuscate, to falsely accuse, erodes trust and confidence. Additionally it damages those who work for and associate with you. Those of us in positions of authority and public trust cannot engage in such behaviors. Whether it is as an officer in the Army, a high-school teacher, or a public official, we must treat our word as a sacred trust or bond that binds us to our duty. We should never engage in flippant speech designed to obscure or divert. We do make mistakes, choose poorly. And when we do so, we must own up to it and move on. But, when we lash out embellishing or prevaricating, we demean the office and charge we hold. When we do so, we disregard those whom we serve.

                Those of us in the body politic must hold our leaders accountable, letting them know that such behavior is not worthy of our trust. We expect truth in all areas. We understand mistakes, missteps, and even poor judgement. But we will not accept lies. We will not accept misdirection. We will not accept false accusations to distract. We will not accept bluster. We will only accept truth. Our leaders must take a deep breath, gird up their loins and move forward bravely into the realm of honest and truth.