Jesonian … March 31st, 2018

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3628)

 For thirty-six hours, God walked away and left humanity to dangle in its notorious decisions.

Long ago, from six o’clock Friday to six o’clock on Sunday morning, the conclusions derived by the honoring of religion, the promotion of politics and the inclusion of jealousy reigned supreme on the Earth.

In the process, a hapless lamb was slaughtered so that a less-than-noble tribe of Bedouins could believe they were special because their ancestors had the fortitude to escape Egypt.

A governor of Judea slinked away to Caesarea to spend a quiet weekend with his wife, only to discover that she was enraged because he had failed to take her dream into consideration when judging an innocent man.

A betrayer from Kerioth who was blindly jealous of his Master, his best friend, climbed a small hill, tied a rope around his neck and hung himself from a tree.

Soldiers were demanded to guard a tomb to make sure that nobody went in, or for that matter, nobody came out.

Disciples who had followed a messenger of love were scared into hiding because they simply believed that “loving your neighbor as yourself” was not a greeting-card sentiment.

Repairmen came to clean up after an unexpected earthquake shook the region, leaving behind great damage, even in the Temple.

The world proceeded with a nauseating sameness, which gained the smugness of superiority because it appeared that any variables were nailed down and silenced.

The kingdom of religion seemed to succeed–a philosophy contending that tradition must decide.

The kingdom of politics stomped around the Great Hall, believing that greed decides.

And the kingdom of jealousy slithered away to lick its wounds, confident of temporary victory because fear had made its decision.

For thirty-six hours, God removed Himself from the circumstances, leaving religion, politics and jealousy to win the day.

It seemed that the obvious forces in power were as formidable as advertised–because everything which had objected, contradicted or shared a different approach was beaten, crucified and buried.

At first sight, there was no light.

And then God returned.

Actually, it was the Kingdom of God, which is within us. It is a Kingdom where faith decides because we are the ones who offer the input.

Even though the disciples of the slain Master were still tucked away, three women bravely made their way to a tomb.

They were not expecting a resurrection.

They were not anticipating finding a miracle.

They did what women have done since the beginning of time–they viewed how men had screwed everything up and they came to clean up the mess.

No bands played, no dignitaries arrived with a key to the city, no men who had pledged eternal allegiance surfaced.

Just three women carrying a bunch of spices, which they immediately dropped when they saw an empty tomb.

Easter is a time when we celebrate more than a resurrection. It is a moment in history when God shows us that even though insanity may temporarily take control, His grace, mercy, understanding and wisdom are never far away.

It was not easy to survive thirty-six hours without God. But because those thirty-six hours showed us the foolishness of religion, politics and jealousy, we can now revel with great joy in the Kingdom of God, which allows our faith to decide.

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G-Poppers … March 30th, 2018

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3627)

He was anxiously looking forward to spending the weekend alone with his beautiful wife, Claudia, near the sea. The responsibilities of his position were unyielding, leaving him negotiating all sorts of foolish squabbles, bringing him home at night still reeling from the grumpy day.

Unfortunately, Claudia had been the victim of many of his temper tantrums, as he ranted and raged about the inflexibility of the people who dubbed themselves “the children of Abraham.” He just needed to get away.

Caesarea was perfect.

It had been built by the Roman occupiers as a little piece of home–and freedom–in the midst of this inflexible, dim-witted region. For a few days, he could pretend he was civilized again instead of trying to govern a pack of wolves who refused to accept the fact that they were caged.

Resting in his bed, he was awakened early on Friday morning with a request to meet with Caiaphas, the high priest of the Jewish people, to adjudicate a particularly difficult matter. Worse was that Caiaphas and his entourage refused to come into the Great Hall to see him because they were in the midst of their Passover celebration, and to be in the presence of him, a Gentile, made them unclean.

He shook his head, baffled by how foolish they were to make these contentions, for some reason thinking they were not offensive.

Arriving in the outer hall, he was surrounded by bearded, austere theologians, who ushered in a weary, wobbly man obviously suffering from punishment.

Within seconds, he realized that their request for his intervention was not needed. It was one of their pieces of fussiness–something about their God. A reference to a Messiah.

Realizing that the young, abused gentleman in front of him was from Galilee, he decided to pawn the situation off on Herod, whom he hated. As he went back to his chambers to tell his wife of his great solution, she appeared before him with terror in her eyes.

She’d had a dream. It was a dream about a man who would be brought to him, who was accused of great indignities, but was truly innocent.

He listened carefully to Claudia. She was not normally given to such outbursts. He trusted her. She advised him that he must avoid bringing any judgment on this man.

They had barely finished their conversation when Caiaphas and his entourage returned. Apparently Herod had passed the case back over to him.

A little spooked by Claudia’s dream, but even more, aggravated by being disturbed on the morning of his departure, he strolled onto the porch of the outer hallway to interview the young Galilean.

He was a little embarrassed. The religious leaders of the Jews seemed very intent on harming this man, while the fellow stood quietly by, offering no defense. Normally a man in this position, surrounded by accusers, would become defensive, agitated and sometimes even violent. But not this chap.

It was unnerving.

Accusation after witness after lie after deception were presented, with nothing congealing into an airtight complaint against the young man from Nazareth.

Then Caiaphas brought up Caesar. It was a name that terrified him. He considered the fact that he had been made governor of Judea to keep peace, and try to bring civilization to this backward nation. It was a formidable task. Of course, Caesar wouldn’t know that. He would only gauge results.

The religious leaders wanted the young man dead.

On this Friday morning, Governor Pontius Pilate was anxious to get away for the weekend. Who was he to challenge the contents of their oral law and practices?

So…he relented.

Symbolically washing his hands clean of the whole affair, he sentenced the quiet Nazarene to death. It was the quickest, simplest and seemingly most intelligent course of action.

In less than an hour, he had packed his things and by nightfall he was in Caesarea. He had a brief flashback about the morning’s activities, but it was quickly forgotten when Claudia cuddled up to him and they sipped delicious wine from the vineyards of Italy.

He had no idea that his Friday morning, seemingly insignificant encounter with Jesus of Nazareth would be the only remembrance that history would provide of him.

He was the one who gave permission to kill the Christ. He was in too big a hurry to consider any other possibility than ease.

G-Pop is thinking about that on this Good Friday.

What might he be ignoring?

 

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3 Things… March 29th, 2018

Jonathots Daily Blog

(3626)

That Make You Attractive and Valuable to Others

1. Humble

Humility is doing what you do instead of talking about it

2. Merciful

Mercy is knowing you can’t change people so you finally stop trying

3. Humor

The warmth of your peace of mind should arrive three seconds before you start speaking or doing your thing

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … March 28th, 2018

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3625)

Can We Talk

I don’t want to die on a cross

Who would?

Are you crazy?

Wanting to die is insane

Giving up is anti-human

And I am human

Do you know that?

I am the Son of Man

Just like you

Do you want to die?

Even if it provided solution?

Ridiculous

Why would you believe in a God,

Who fostered human sacrifice?

Isn’t that sick?

Don’t the prophets tell you

That God hated all sacrifice

Even animals?

Why would He suddenly choose His Son’s blood?

A human being?

Preposterous

I love life

It is so unpredictable

So gloriously tenuous

I love people, if they will permit

I don’t want to leave

So much beauty

So much growth

Sinners becoming winners

The messed, blessed

Sad made glad

And the dead–born again

Leave me alone

If you don’t believe just ignore me

Keep your nails to yourself

Keep your whip off my back

I have things I want to do

I came to show the Father

Do you want to kill Him also?

Does everything have to end in bloodiness?

I asked my Father to give me a break

But…

He is honoring your free will

You want me dead

So…

I will die

I will bleed like no one has ever bled before

If you want my blood

I will pour it all out on the ground

But be careful

It came from me

I am a healer

My blood just might save you

*****

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Cracked 5 … March 27th, 2018

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Jonathots Daily Blog

(3624)

Other Meanings for the Phrase “March Madness”

A.  A growing anger over Nor’easter snow storms

 

B.  The frustration felt by raw recruits during basic training

 

C.  Hearing too much John Phillips Sousa in a five-day span

 

D.  Religious leaders killing off a loving messenger of healing

 

E.  A decision to trudge along with the depressed masses toward insanity 

 

Good News and Better News … March 26th, 2018

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3623)

I was honored to spend a week high in the mountains of Colorado with friends. It was many years ago, when I was traveling all over the country, pretending I was significant and well-known.

Although I was grateful for the invitation, within the first 48 hours I realized that the altitude was making me uneasy. It was a weird sensation.

I was breathing but it seemed I wasn’t getting enough oxygen. It made my backbone tingle with apprehension. I couldn’t sleep because I was a bit frightened that I was breathless, even though there was no evidence of that fact.

The air was too thin–at least, for me.

When I finished the visit and descended, I immediately lost all my symptoms and felt like I was actually getting air into my body. It was markedly different.

Emotionally and spiritually, I feel much the same way in our country today. I am still getting some respiration to my heart and spirit but it is not a sensation of breathing. It’s more like suffocating. The climate is too thin with substance to sustain any of us.

Human beings are not complicated–if you think they are, you should go back to the drawing board and view their inception.

Humans require two distinct pieces of input:

1. To be inspired

That means the things that come into our lives should enrich us. Even if we find them challenging, we should be fully aware that our experiences are lifting us up on the shoulders of new possibilities. There is no replacement for this.

What we are given in our culture is a warped representation of reality, which we are supposed to accept as inevitable evidence that human beings are nothing more than animals. It is demeaning. It leaves us gasping for hope.

2. To be entertained.

By entertainment I am referring to finding joy in what we do instead of trudging along in an “adult life” which is predetermined to be problematic.

It is the joy of the Lord that’s our strength. Even though weeping may come into our lives, it should not endure. There should be an awakening every morning, to fresh ideas.

We are not allowed to be entertained anymore, but instead, overwhelmed. The powers that be tout that we are in the “information age,” but the data provided is rarely uplifting, but instead, debilitates us with the wickedness of the world around us.

Just as I had to escape the thin air to be able to breathe again, it is the responsibility of sane men and women everywhere to refuse the inadequate sniff of experience being proffered as truth.

The good news is that we are human beings, and therefore we need to be inspired and entertained.

The better news is, the God who created us sent His son to tell us to “rejoice and be exceedingly glad.”

 

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Catchy (Sitting 41) Paradise Tossed… March 25th, 2018

Jonathots Daily Blog

(3622)

There was a noble effort made by the staff of the Walter Reed Medical Center in Washington, D.C., to keep the autopsy of Cassidy Templeton private.

Noble but futile.

A mere ten minutes after it was posted in the hospital records, the system was hacked, and the conclusions of the autopsy were spread abroad across the world in the matter of an hour.

In the report, was decided that Cassidy Templeton’s death was from natural causes–even though there was nothing natural about the discoveries. In the report, one doctor commented that it appeared that his internal organs had been burned–worn out like an old tire. There were systems that were non-funcitoning, and others that should have been connecting up to create life, which were dangling without purpose. So at the end of a very lengthy probe, the conclusion was that Cassidy Templeton died because there were no real systems keeping him alive. Of course, this further added to the mystery of the awakening.

When Matthew was asked by a reporter what he thought about the findings of the autopsy, he quipped, “I don’t give a shit about any of this shit.”

He was drunk at the time and probably shouldn’t have answered the question, but he had grown weary in his mediocre doings. This idea had begun so simply–some music, some food, some gentle words. Now it was growing into an international phenomenon, with many promoters seeing the potential for profit and struggling to get their piece before the pie was gone. Also, because there was a softening of the hearts of the American public, a desperate attempt was being made by those who preferred the darker portions of human existence to intrude.

Mother Rolinda’s church in Baltimore was fire-bombed by an organization called “Catholics for Christ’s Church.” Taking responsibility for the incursion, their statement explained that since Jesus was a man, God expected all of his preachers to be male.

About sixty of Prophet Morgan’s friends and followers began an organization called “The Morganians,” who immediately accused Merrill Handerling and the B.I.F. (Believers International Fellowship) of foul play in the murder of the prophet. At first it was just nasty letters and law suits, but finally ended up in violence when five “Morganians” were ambushed by ten members of B.I.F., resulting in a street brawl, leaving two dead by stabbing.

What once was a jet stream of spiritual love across the world via Jubal Carlos and the band had now splintered into different representations, traveling groups who sprang off the original concept to develop their own rendition, complete with erroneous theology.

Everyone was claiming to have the “true Jesus.”

A year earlier, nobody gave a damn about Jesus, and now everyone was trying to market their favored clone.

Matthew continued to dwell in Las Vegas and find more and more perverse ways to separate himself from anything that resembled religion. To him, it seemed like the paradise they had envisioned had been tossed aside in favor of a return to man-made, ecclesiastical mayhem.

But Jubal continued to travel–matter of fact, Matthew made one journey with him, deep into the south, to Jackson, Mississippi. It was a piece of curiosity for the cynical marketer. He had never been to Mississippi before and was curious what the response would be.

Yet the town square and the park nearby was jammed with people, and it seemed like just another wonderful day on a heavenly Earth.

Except for one thing. There was something different.

Matthew picked up on it immediately. It was Jubal. Although he retained the presence of his faith, the energy was gone. He was surrounded by adoring and rejoicing disciples, but he, himself, had taken a portion of his being and removed it for his own private thoughts.

Matthew asked him about it and Jubal just smiled and mouthed the classic, “I’m just fine.”

That afternoon, when it was time to return to Las Vegas for the evening rally, Jubal was late for takeoff. He texted Matthew, saying he would catch another flight and be there for the evening, but revival time arrived, and Jubal was nowhere to be found.

He wasn’t there the next morning or the morning after that. Many of the members of the staff feared there was some sort of foul play–after all, death threats had come in from people who were less than thrilled at a second resurrection of a once-dead carpenter. After seventy-two hours of absence, the FBI was called in to investigate.

There was a squabble among the troupe as to whether to continue the nation-wide schedule without Jubal buzzing along with them. It actually wasn’t very problematic–Jubal had gradually reduced his activities in the journey, opening the door to new people, new acts, and new possibilities, so replacing him onstage was not as much of a problem as trying to imagine the work and mission going forward without his soul.

After much discussion, Matthew insisted that the tour should resume, and within a few days, the cast of characters was so involved that they had to remind one another nightly to pray for their old friend.

It was two weeks to the day the disappearance that a telegram–yes, a telegram, of all things–arrived at Matthew’s office. It was from Jubal. It read:

“Sorry for the mixup. Got an invite from the Dali, to come and enjoy a sabbatical. Seemed right. Love, Jubal Carlos”

It took Matthew a second to realize that the Dalai, in this case, was the Dalai Lama. It was a strange time. It actually comforted Matthew to remain in his iniquity.

After all, those who seemed to be righteous sure looked screwed up.

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