Sit Down Comedy … January 31st, 2020

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4306)

At the Olympics, there is no award given for completing the training and earning the right to appear in the games.

There is no recognition for the person who displays the best marching during the opening ceremonies or who has the brightest costume for the closing cavalcade.

There are three medals—a gold, a silver and a bronze.

And even though there are changes continually going on in our world, when it comes to the human race and our emotional, spiritual, mental and physical well-being, the same three distinctions have been available since the very dawn of time.

The only worrisome thing comes when we begin to believe that these three “medals” can be altered, or the rules can be changed to apply different criteria.

Many imposters have come along, attempting to replace the gold, silver and bronze of human expression.

• Greed
• Patriotism
• Revivalism
• Politics
• Open-mindedness.
• Traditionalism.
• Self-centeredness.
• And sloth.

Although these have been touted by certain generations, each one has failed to bring about any betterment.

There are still just three medals.

They’re the same three I had to learn, my grandfather had to learn—and Adam failed to learn because he got tied up in his own interpretation and ended up “west of Eden.”

The gold: Love your neighbor as yourself.

Nothing in this world works until we learn how to love ourselves, and become emphatic that every human being is granted the same respect and honor.

The silver medal: Give and it shall be given unto you.

Thinking that anything can grow without seed or that we can prosper minus investing ourselves, our time and our fortunes may be the breeding ground for evil.

The bronze medal: Choose and be faithful.

There are innumerable things we can choose to do that are full of kindness, prosperity and wisdom which only require our faithfulness.

There is power in faithfulness.

So you can see:

At no point are we to lose our love for self.

Nor should we ever anticipate that goodness will fail to come back to us.

And our power of choice endures as long as we remain faithful.

The Olympics of human determination continue today.

You will need to do more than train. You will need to compete.

And if we actually start stretching for gold, silver and bronze, the world will be affected.

Then we can all raise a jubilant cheer.

 

 

Sit Down Comedy … August 16th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4138)

Can you play the game?

What is the game?

People interaction. Intimacy. Give and take.

The “get-along-ism” of the human prism.

Does it bother you that it’s a game? Shouldn’t it be called a mission, a ministry or an odyssey?

“Love your neighbor.”

A little piece of optimism, don’t you think? Some sort of idealistic drivel promoted by theologians. Generous and compassionate, but in its own way, foolish.

And it would be ridiculous to ask people to “love their neighbor” if that was exactly how the commandment was phrased. But it isn’t.

“Love your neighbor as yourself.“

Actually, it’s a very cynical concept. In other words, since you’re madly infatuated with your own comings and goings and can’t pass by a mirror without glancing into it, might you consider sharing some of that concern with the people in the world around you?

After all, Jesus wasn’t stupid.

Jesus wasn’t hoping we would become angelic while praying that we would avoid devilish. He was merely asking us to play the game. The game is very simple:

Don’t expect anybody to give a rat’s ass about you if you don’t give a rat’s ass about them.

Perhaps not as eloquent as “love your neighbor as yourself,” but nevertheless, a practical paraphrase.

And by the way, be prepared for a five-to-one ratio. In other words, for every five minutes you’re willing to listen to someone else, they will probably return a minute of attention.

If you’re foolish enough to say that’s unfair, then you’ll end up with nothing.

If you decide you don’t give a shit about anyone, that’s fine, but you’ll discover that nobody gives a shit about you, and worse, they’ll probably try to find a way to get back at you because you didn’t give a shit about them.

Let’s tip our hat to President Trump. It’s obvious that he doesn’t care about anyone else. He is very interested in himself, and you can have a delightful conversation with the man as long as you’re willing to discuss Donald, and not “trump” him in any way.

On the other hand, the Democrats are less truthful. They pretend that they care about the farmer in Iowa who’s struggling with the loss of his soybean profits, while posting over and over again on the Internet the need for more donations—hoping to rise higher in the polls to make the next debate.

If you understand it’s a game, you can keep from being cynical.

If you think it’s supposed to be spiritual, moral or ethical, then you will find yourself broken, despondent and left with faith drained from your body.

I play the game.

Even within my own family, the interest level they have for me is limited and only comes forth when I first send out a query about their efforts and wishes.

Can you play the game?

Are you willing to take the five-to-one ratio?

Or do you think that if it’s not completely pure, that it has no heart?

It’s time to decide. If you can play the game, you will win.

If you can’t play the game, you will not only lose, but you will turn everyone who interacts with you into losers, too.

 

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Sit Down Comedy … May 10th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4041)

“But know this—that if the good man of the house had known when the thief would come, he would have watched and would not have suffered his house to be broken up.” *

We weren’t watching.

Maybe it’s because there isn’t a good man among us. I don’t know.

Maybe we thought there weren’t any real thieves out there.

Perhaps we were bewitched into believing that a Republican or a Democrat possessed any spirit to follow through on basic human integrity.

Maybe it’s because we were afraid to admit that the whole political system is evil, and nobody can exist within its parameters without absorbing the filth.

Again—I don’t know.

The thieves have come in and broken up our house.

We could get angry.

We could call all the politicians “sons-of-a-bitches.”

We can insist the ones who wear red hats are righteous or the ones with the blue hats are benevolent.

But we’d be missing the point.

The tree is corrupt, so the fruit will be rotten.

Moving forward, if we’re going to protect the American house, we need to make sure we’re not allowing thieves to come in and handle the national jewels.

This will require that we stop prancing around the room, talking about voting, civic responsibility and checks and balances, but instead, ask more internal, piercing questions of those who would desire to lead us.

I only want to know four things about anybody.

I don’t care if he mows my lawn, distributes my groceries or is the President of the United States. And the answers to these questions tell me whether I can trust him or her and therefore grant my support.

Just four questions—and if you agree, you can stop concerning yourself with immigration, the economy, health insurance and social standards. The answers to the questions tell you whether an individual running for office truly gives a damn about anybody.

So here are the questions I want to ask anybody I ever meet, to inform me where he or she is coming from and where they’re going:

1. Can you tell the truth?
2. Can you confess your faults?
3. Can you learn?
4. Can you love your neighbor as yourself?

After I ask them, I listen to the answers. I don’t accept, “I’ll try,” or “Everybody tells a fib now and then,” or “Who do you think I should confess to?” or “I’m pretty smart the way I am but I could probably learn,” or the classic—“Who’s my neighbor?”

The answers are actually easy:

1. I not only can tell the truth, I want you to hold me to the truth, and when you catch me, I want you to stop me.
2. I will confess my faults, because I know you will find them eventually anyway, and if I confess them, I have a better chance of being healed.
3. I don’t work on being smart. I work on increasing my capacity and hunger to learn. There are too many angles for any one person to figure out.
4. I will love my neighbor as myself because it’s the only way I can guarantee a positive ending to any situation.

You can go ahead and believe in politics if you want to—but as the “good man of the house,” I see the thieves coming around again, and I, for one, am going to do everything I can to make sure they don’t come in and break up our house anymore.

*Matthew 24:43

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3 Things … April 18th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

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That Are Required to Be a Follower of Jesus

1.   Love your neighbor as yourself

2.   Knowing what is God’s business and what is the province of the government

3.   Carrying a cross you never have to use

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G-Poppers … June 22nd, 2018

One of G-Pop’s children came to him with great concern.

She was troubled about two gentlemen she knew who were in the midst of a contentious and vicious argument over politics. They were both good men, good fathers and they were both Christian.

But the climate of division had overcome both of them, and they began to take it out on each other, leveling nasty insults in the direction of the other person, once a dear friend.

One man was a Republican and one man was a Democrat. But they both were Christian–shall we say Jesonian?–followers of the heart of Jesus.

Like many people in the lifetime of Jesus, they were looking for political solutions rather than personal revivals in their own hearts.

These two gentlemen had taken their eyes off the personal prize of discovery and placed their faith into the knowledge and politics of the day.

They were arguing about President Trump.

The Republican brother found himself in the defensive profile, trying to explain what was happening in our country the best he could, while the Democrat brother was using insults, derogatory statements and anger to attack the leader of our country.

It is affecting their friendship.

It is taking what was meant to be unified and breaking it apart.

Each one of them is convinced that the other couldn’t be a Christian and maintain the feelings he has about President Trump. They fail to understand that there are three principles set forth by Jesus of Nazareth.

If the Republicans ignore any of the three, then for a season we must walk away from the Republicans. Likewise, if the Democrats set any one of the three to the side, that party has to be negated in favor of greater words.

The three principles are:

1. No one is better than anyone else.

2. Judge not or you’ll be judged.

3. Love your neighbor as yourself.

These can’t be compromised just because we want to promote a candidate, and they certainly can’t be ignored to maintain affiliation with a political party.

Two good men are fighting because both of them are sacrificing their Jesonian beliefs to support an earthly power structure.

So G-Pop says to his children, don’t speak evil of the President of the United States. Keep your hand on the plow and follow the three principles listed above. And where you see problems come in, don’t resort to cheap insult and vulgar retort. Hang on.

The words of Jesus have lasted much longer than any ideas from any politician, and they certainly will be around long past the next election.

 

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Jesonian … March 31st, 2018

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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 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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Catchy (Sitting 34) Three Fronts … February 4th, 2018

Jonathots Daily Blog

(3573)

It didn’t take long.

Twenty-four hours after the announcement of Morgan’s murder, the country was ablaze with controversy, assumptions, conspiracy theories and accusations.

There were enough questions about the circumstances (and since it was well-known that Prophet had betrayed Jubal Carlos by holding interviews) it was determined that Jubal was to be brought to headquarters to answer some questions.

Unfortunately, Jubal and the band had hopped the jet, along with their merry patrons, flying to Europe for a five-city tour–which he had dubbed “The New Jesus.” London, Paris, Madrid, Berlin and Rome were about to get a healthy dose of “the gospel according to Carlos.”

It was a ten-day tour, so the authorities in Clark Country agreed to wait until Jubal’s return to hold the session.

At the same time, in Washington, Congressman Michael Hinston stepped out of the shadows, where he had been disguising his plot, and stirred up the House of Representatives and many in the Senate to demand that the Justice Department conduct a thorough investigation of the murder.

Normally such a request was ignored, but the Catholic Church and the Southern Baptists added their “yeas and amens” to the demand. Since these two institutions were not known to agree on much of anything, the investigation was sanctioned and set in motion.

With Prophet Morgan dead and Jubal in Europe, the work in America was left in the hands of Sister Rolinda. She had been taken out of the spotlight and placed, as Jubal called it, “backstage” ever since she had ruffled the robes of the Pope in Rome. But now, since there was no one to take over the work in Las Vegas, she was called forth and put in authority, with the assumption, “What harm could she do?”

Matthew checked out.

He refused to take calls, only allowing his two old friends, Jack Daniels and Jim Beam, into his sanctuary. It was all so crazy. All he had ever wanted in his life was to make money without hurting anyone, with his name in the paper every once in a while. Now he wasn’t making money, it seemed like people were getting hurt (if you counted a murder) and his name was in the paper with slanderous overtones.

He also received an accounting from his financial advisors on how much money had been spent of the 250 million dollars. $31,285,652.38. It was a staggering sum. Yet truthfully, in the world of advertising, the amount of publicity that had been received was worth ten times that much. Still, what did they have to show for it? Matthew mulled as he communed with Jack and Jim.

The press arrived for the first night after the announcement of the murder at the Las Vegas “warehouse-turned-church,” to see what would transpire. There was a large crowd, and since the band was overseas, Sister Rolinda had decided to invite a black choir from Los Angeles. They sang the place happy, they chorused the room sad.

At length, as the entire gathering fell silent, Sister Rolinda took the stage, wearing a little nun hat, a gingham dress and an apron.

She clumsily grabbed the microphone and began to speak. “I’ve lost my friend, Morgan. I hurt so badly I can’t breathe. He was not perfect. I suppose some of you wouldn’t even think he was good. He was arrogant–in a humble way. He was loving–with a spiteful streak. And he was a human, searching for his humanity.

“I saw him literally give the coat on his back to a stranger. I was with him when white supremacists beat him up because he condemned their ignorant bigotry. Did you know he was abused himself? But considering that, he tried very hard not to be an abuser.

“I loved him. Did you? Or did you find yourself judging something about him? Maybe it was his funny, overstated hair. Maybe it was because he was so young, he still had pimples. Maybe it was because he dressed like a 1950s backwoods evangelist.

“We feel very powerful when we can criticize. We think voicing our opinion is our God-given right. We have only one God-given right: ‘love your neighbor as yourself.'”

Suddenly Rolinda raised her voice to a scream. “Did you hear me? Love your goddamn neighbor as yourself!”

The building fell more silent than the silence it already possessed. Rolinda continued, softly.

“I am not a speaker. I am not glib. I am not full of wisdom. When I became a nun, I asked God to fill me with only one thing–compassion. That’s it.

“Tonight we need to rid ourselves of revenge, attitude, discussions of foul play and just general stupidity. We don’t need to celebrate Prophet Morgan. He would tear his shirt off in horror if he knew we were doing that. We need to acknowledge the Jesus who Prophet loved, and the best way to do that is to love one another.

“So since the press has shown up tonight, I am going to take this time to answer any questions they may have, to the best of my ability.”

Sister Rolinda paused, lifting a finger, ready to point in the direction of anyone who might want to pose an inquiry. But perhaps for the first time in the history of press conferences, no one had anything to say. There was nothing to ask.

Rolinda took a deep breath, and suddenly tears began to stream down her face. More and more she cried, until she was squalling. Buckling at the knees, she nearly fell on her face, catching herself with her hands, until members of the audience rushed forward to lift her and comfort her.

As if on cue, everyone else who remained turned to each other and embraced, then quietly moved toward the exit.

Meanwhile … Jubal and the band performed in front of ten thousand screaming, hollering Germans, sharing bratwurst and beer.

Meanwhile … Michael Hinston perused a private email from the CLO which applauded his efforts to instigate an investigation.

Meanwhile … the decomposing, chopped-up body of Prophet Morgan lay very dead in the morgue.

And meanwhile … Matthew just drank.

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