Sameness… December 24, 2012

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It was a time when the world was engrossed in a raging debate over taxes. The most recent Caesar was deliberating on how to maintain the integrity of his empire, keeping it from falling off the current “fiscal cliff.”

Poverty was everywhere. It was gnawing at the flesh and the innards of ever-increasing numbers of common people, who were only able to muster complaints over the sheer magnitude of lack.

Kings were concerned about maintaining their power, ignoring the needs of mothers and children in order to maintain the supremacy of their positions.

Zealots roamed the terrain, performing terrorist acts against perceived injustice–all in the name of their favorite gods.

Religion, having stalled in its own inadequacy decades before, was trying to discover new life through regulations, restitution of historical moments and rigid application from the pages of dusty scrolls.

The cultures were segregated. Some say it was done so that the traditions of each group of people and their customs could be honored, but more often than not, the separation just created misunderstandings and blockades to communication, sprouting feelings of superiority.

Nations were rising against nations and kingdoms against kingdoms.

It is into this environment that God inserted Himself in human flesh as a baby–birthed in obscurity.

As I sat over a meal last night with the lovely members of my family, I looked around and realized that they were an intelligent lot, filled with creative energy, but still sheep heading to the slaughter of the sameness of “olden times.”

For today, we suffer from the same conditions that greeted the Messiah. We are trapped in the inflexibility of men’s wills and purposes. We extol our differences and tout our uniqueness, never having a chance to absorb deeper fellowship through commonality. We have trapped ourselves in religious and political upheavals that threaten our future, overemphasize our past and leave our present stalled–void of purpose.

I suppose I could tell you that some things have changed. We have computers, which quickly inform us of our disjointed status. We have penicillin to heal diseases (until those same infections discover ways to outsmart our drugs). We dress differently, if not better. We drive cars instead of camels and we eat with knives and forks instead of our fingers.

But the main demons that possessed our society all those years ago remain intact, having survived all of our attempts at deliverance.

I have decided not to join the melee. I resist all attempts by the masses to deem me odd,  not slithering into the present pit of lava. I have decided to shepherd the sheep that are sent my way, simultaneously listening for the angels of my better nature. I am trying to gain wisdom as I look to the skies. And I travel the earth as a student of discovery instead of a know-it-all.

I am not interested in taxes and I’m quite intent on avoiding kings. I may appear to the common man to be insensitive as I move in and out of cultures, seeking similarities instead of accentuating differences. And most of all, I find my source of worship and meaning in barns and mangers instead of sanctuaries and the halls of Congress.

Call me weird.

Most of the world slept through the night some two thousand years ago, wondering how things could ever get better when everybody seemed content with them remaining bad. It took a child–and it will take a child in each and every one of our hearts–for us to birth peace on earth and goodwill toward men.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Light a Candle, Set a Fire… November 10, 2012

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I thought I was in a good mood.

Matter of fact, I was pretty certain I was Mr. Mellow Yellow. Sitting in the parking lot of a Kroger

grocery store in Dayton, Ohio, I had even taken the time to jot down some lyrics for a new song and a couple of thoughts for upcoming essays for jonathots. The sun was shining, I had just enough money in my pocket to keep me from poverty, and life seemed to be heading in a direction away from the fiscal cliff.

Jan returned and informed me that the red raspberries that had been on sale were marked up and too expensive to buy. I thought I was fine with that. She had substituted strawberries, which were certainly to my liking. So I started up my van and headed out, when suddenly, to my right, a car came barreling through, moving very fast and forcing me to slam on my brakes. I honked my horn and said aloud, “What an idiot!”

It surprised me. I was alarmed by my own outburst, assuming that such a little misfortune should be taken in stride and handled with more grace. Was I more upset about the raspberries than I thought? Was my level of contentment peppered with a bit of arrogant pride? Did I feel good simply because everything was going well, and the minute an intrusion came on my path I reverted to a more carnal reaction? I don’t know. It got me thinking.

I asked myself a question: When should I light a candle and at what point is it appropriate to set a fire?

That’s pretty important.  If you don’t ever think about it, then reactions can come upon you which might seem foreign–but you feel like you have to support them, like unwanted, illegitimate children–because lighting a candle is a decision to trust your faith; setting a fire is the opportunity for you to” kick into doing.” Quite different.

I feel one of the reasons our nation is experiencing so much anger, frustration and accusation is because we have a waning of faith in the populace. When you don’t have faith in anything, it’s hard to trust–and when you don’t trust, you feel you must always defend yourself because no one else is on your side. When you get into that mindset, you protect your hunk of meat like a wild lion.

So even if there wasn’t a God, we certainly would need one in order for us to have faith in something other than circumstances, and trust in life to occasionally work out–instead of setting every situation on fire.

Yes, sometimes you need only to light a candle, so that on those other occasions, you can set a fire. It is necessary to choose moments to trust your faith so that you will know when it is time to “kick into doing.”

A car nearly hits me in a Kroger parking lot. Should I light a candle? Or set a fire? Should I shake my head and quietly say, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do?” Or should I honk my horn and chase them to the next stop sign? Should I turn to my friend and traveling companion and curse them for their stupidity?

Children are bored in church. Should I light a candle and say a prayer that things get better? Or should I set a fire and question why religion has become so irrelevant to the youth?

I can’t eat bologna and pizza and lose weight. Should I trust my faith and light a candle? Or set a fire of injustice in my soul that lends itself to further gluttony?

• My legs hurt when I walk.
• Syrians are dying in the street.
• Someone took my parking space.

What do you think? Light a candle? Set a fire? Should I trust my faith? Or kick into doing? Should I be an observer of what God is about to do? Or a doer, and watch my heavenly Father observe?

• I’m too fat, too bald, too old.
• Atheism is on the rise.
• I often lack money.
• I cut myself shaving.
• I need to drop pounds.
• I want to use my talent.
• I feel lonely.
• I feel cheated.

They mount up, you know. Maybe hundreds in a day–moments when we have to decide what to do with our flame–that bit of passion within us that determines our light in the human family. If you have no faith, it’s hard to trust. If you feel without strength, it’s difficult to move.

That’s why some people burn on the inside–the fires of hell in their bellies.

What should I do? Light a candle? Set a fire?

My mate is losing interest in me. Should I reach for the candle? Or set a fire to change the direction?

I am losing my faith. If I lose it, my trust goes out the window. If my trust is gone, I have to lean to my own understanding. And if I’m devoid of understanding, I am constantly on the verge of being angry.

America has problems. I am part of America. Do I light a candle and trust my faith? Or set a fire and “kick into doing?”

This is probably the most important question you will ever ask yourself. If you ignore it, you might just discover that you’re infuriated over an indiscretion by a poor driver in a Kroger parking lot, and because you couldn’t get them, you give life the raspberries.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity