The concept of community within the prophetic black church tradition is rooted in its African DNA and expressed in its African American being. Thousands of years before the Trans Atlantic Slave Trade, African culture and society have been and continues to be largely characterized as communal in nature. This means African societies have as core values the well-being of community interests, even at the subordination of one’s individual interests. Thus, the enslaved brought a deep sense of collective identity aboard the slave ships. And, it was this collective identity that shaped our capacity to reinvent our humanity and human relationships despite ethnic, linguistic, age and gender related differences.

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Marriages are neither made nor dissolved overnight, and make no mistake about it, the relationship between a parishioner and his minister is something of a spiritual union. This is why those who say Barak Obama waited too long to divorce himself from Rev. Jeremiah Wright have no appreciation for how wrenching the experience of spiritual separation can be.

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One thing is certain: There can never be any kind of healing unless and until the problem causing the pain is confronted, head on.

Unfortunately, the subject of racism in America, our own peculiar disease, has never been confronted. We talk about it, talk around it, but in general, try to avoid it. Too many whites, bothered by guilt about it, stay in denial about its potency and the ill effects it has wrought over the years. And too many blacks, bothered by shame still felt about being African American, likewise remain stuck in denial acting like it “was” but is now gone.

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It has often been said, by the press, that Barack Obama is like a rock star. I saw Barack Obama speak and while I was very much thrilled by his presentation he was no rock star and I did not feel entertained. My association was to inspiring politicians like the Kennedys and black leaders to whom I could dedicate myself in the struggle against oppression, leaders such as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X, leaders who stirred the Harriet Tubman and Betsy Ross in me when I was but a child. The only rock star to stir the Harriet Tubman in me was the late Bob Marley whose freedom songs I have cherished.

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Each spring in the snow country of Japan there’s an ancient custom of hiking to the top of a mountain as soon as the trails are passable. It’s called O-Yama-biraki or Open Mountain Day. What began as a ritual of the pre-Buddhist days of Japan, when the animistic folk religion of Shinto was practiced, endures. You hike to the summit to greet the spirit of the mountain as it wakes from the long winter. From the Shinto perspective, the natural world is sacred. Mountains are sacred. Trees are sacred. Kami or nature spirits dwell there.

Morie Sawataishi, the hero of my nonfiction book, "Dog Man: An Uncommon Life on a Faraway Mountain," isn’t compulsive about honoring all the old Shinto rituals. He’s Shinto, without question. But he turns 92 this summer and is a bit of a pragmatist. Still, there’s no question that Open Mountain Day is his favorite day of the year.

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Between Afghanistan and America, situated at the crossroads of Eastern-Western civilization, lies a low-key ally in the fight against religious intolerance and extremism: Morocco.

Despite the headlines painting this region as the new front on terror, Moroccans object to their country becoming a base for western-focused extremism and are determined to prevent Al Qaeda from securing a foothold in this corner of the Maghreb.

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When I was a sixteen year old Southern Baptist with my sights set on the White House (I grew up in the hey-day of the Moral Majority), I met a black pastor named William Barber at a state-wide event for young political hopefuls. Rev. Barber was there to give a motivational speech, but I heard the gospel in his talk and saw it in his character. A friend and I invited Rev. Barber to come preach in our home town and he accepted our invitation.

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Of course presidents --- and presidential candidates --- should tell the truth. At the same time, there’s a certain amount of spin and exaggeration which takes place not just in politics but in real life that I suspect most people tolerate. On fundamental issues, however, truthfulness is crucial.

Consider the late President Nixon.

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When I told my in-laws that their daughter and I were moving to the Middle East, it was exactly what they had feared. My blonde bride and I were lost on dark streets in Arabia just after Friday prayers - and looking for a church. Wandering through Abu Dhabi, my wife and I found few people we felt comfortable enough to ask for directions.

Just when we had decided to give up, a well built-Middle Eastern man in Western clothing approached us. "Lost?" he asked.

"We are looking for a Church," I told him.

"Charge?" the man responded.

"No, Church", I repeated as I blessed myself.

"Oh,'Kinesa'" he responded enthusiastically in Arabic. "Yes. Nearby. Come, I will take you."

Only after we got into his car did we discover that he was a Syrian Muslim from Damascus.

Judging from the saber rattling of our respective leaders, we had much to fear from one another. Driving to St. Joseph's Church that evening, the only danger we faced we shared — Abu Dhabi's erratic drivers. When I asked to pay the good Samaritan for the ride, he would accept only thanks.

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This Mother’s Day, why don’t we take time to remember the “mothers” of the church? So often they get put in a back pew.

Recent scholarship has reminded us that women were at the forefront of the early Christian church and helped keep the church alive in the first few centuries. Junia was greeted and praised by Paul in Romans 16 for her apostolic work and for “being in Christ before me.” Prisca helped start three house churches in key locations -- Ephesus, Corinth and Rome – and helped coach the evangelist Apollos. We now know Mary Magdalene was not the fallen woman that we’d been led to believe, but a faithful witness.

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Filling my gas tank is more painful than it used to be. With gas averaging $3.61 a gallon last week, I'm spending about $45 with each visit to the pump. Thankfully, my hybrid can drive 550 miles between fill ups – but that does not negate the pain, regardless of the frequency.

In a rash attempt to alleviate this discomfort, our political leaders have proposed a "gas tax holiday." For three months, we will (theoretically) spend about 18 cents less per gallon of fuel, or about 2 dollars each visit to the gas station. Over the course of the summer holiday, the blog Autopia reports that this proposal will save the average American about $30.

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As a child of the inflated innocence of the Fifties I was raised to believe in the George Washington "I cannot tell a lie" cherry tree fable, Honest Abe, faithful Ike and devoted-to-Jackie JFK.

By the time I was in my twenties I was experiencing the presidency of LBJ and then Nixon.

One was sending men off to what he insisted was a just war while privately confessing to his friends it was not winnable. The other was the picture of public piety while privately he was a profane bigot and paranoid liar. I finished the century with Bill Clinton and I was a long way from the sanitized history of my youth.

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I do not think the President of the United States should be a liar, and believe that the overwhelming majority of U.S. citizens agree with me. For security reasons, the whole truth cannot always be revealed, but it is quite obvious that lies are seldom made to protect our nation. Almost invariably, the political fortunes of the prevaricator are at stake.

During my campaign for the White House in 1976, veracity was a very important issue, because of the known falsehoods having been told during the Vietnam War and the revelations of the Frank Church senatorial investigation that our government had, through the CIA, committed murder and other crimes. I habitually told my small groups of supporters, "If I even make a misleading statement, don't support me."

Although stigmatized as naïve and often having to suffer the consequences, I maintained this commitment to truthfulness during my term in office, and it paid off in many ways. One example was the trust aroused in me by President Anwar Sadat and Prime Minister Menachim Begin, which was instrumental in orchestrating the Israeli-Egyptian peace treaty. I've observed at other times that the exploding consequences of a small lie can result in political catastrophe, as was shown in President Nixon's effort to conceal the Watergate break-in.

There have been other examples since I left office.

The author was the 39th President of the United States.