Turning Kids Into Humans: (After 18) Grown Out … October 13, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

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Eighteen years of age.

You’ve made it. More importantly, your little bundle of joy has survived.

Now there are three choices: grow up, grow in, grow out.

Factually, there’s not much you can do about them growing up, although it is possible for them to get mature physically and still be babies internally.

But there is a new trend in America to ask our children to grow in, towards us. We decide to rescue them from life’s inevitable failures by welcoming them back, rent free, into the domicile, quite happy to be Mommy or Daddy once again. This practice has generated a class of people who originally were working but now are still searching, convinced they have plenty of time to assume human responsibility.

Your goal should be to help them grow out.

As quickly as you possibly can, develop an adult relationship with your son or daughter instead of a co-dependency. If you’ve taught them to be human beings by inserting empathy and gratitude into their everyday lives, then you should be confident of seven things that you mutually hold dear. Your child should know:

1. I’m no better than anyone else.
2. I’m responsible for my own actions.
3. I will work with what I have.
4. I know that truth is the gold standard in human relationships.
5. I look for opportunity, not short cuts.
6. I am a heart, soul, mind and strength creature.
7. I am fully aware that how I treat people is what I really believe about myself and God.

You may want to sit down and have a delightful conversation about these seven glorious ideas before they launch into their future

You haven’t lost an off-spring; you’ve taken eighteen years to mentor a friend. Enjoy them. And as they move about the Earth and realize that these platinum attitudes work, they will sing your praises.

Never forget that bringing creatures into this world is just a part of the biological cycle.

Turning them into human beings is the joy of the truly spiritual.

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

 

The Sermon on the Mount in music and story. Click the mountain!

 

Click here to get info on the “Gospel According to Common Sense” Tour

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.

Click here to listen to Spirited music

Jesonian: Mastering Service … September 21, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2358)

John Marcus was a “householder.”

It was the title granted to the colored slave to afford just enough dignity with a King James flavor, without bestowing elaborate honor for his needful subservient status.

Yes, John Marcus did it all. Cook, clean, repair, blacksmith, minister, caretaker and physician.

And because he took the jobs on–often that no one else wanted, including the white family which became very accustomed to being served–he was granted more and more liberty to work solo in order to achieve his ever-expanding, sophisticated results.

Today he was given a new job. He was to be mentor, and even punisher if necessary, to a belligerent sixteen-year-old runaway named Zachary. The little tyrant was placed in his care to train and also temper into achieving his place as a worker on the plantation.

So John Marcus decided to give the angry lad the job of cleaning the pots and pans. It was done alone in the back room of the kitchen and could be achieved even by a fitful worker without destroying too much private property.

When Zachary got John Marcus alone, far from prying ears, he shouted, “Why do you walk around with a smile on your face playing good house nigger?”

John Marcus smiled and gave no response, wiping the bottom of a dirty pot as any good instructor just might do.

After a good season of pan-scrubbing, Zachary challenged again. “Are you deaf? Why do you give in to the Massa?”

John Marcus paused, ceasing to scrape at the blackened pans. He stepped about five paces away and gently and tenderly stirred a cauldron of delicious stew he was nurturing for the evening’s consumption.

Zachary shook his head.

Suddenly John Marcus spoke. “There’s one Massa. His name is Jesus. He told me that the only way to gain mastery in life is to serve.”

“Weak words,” spit Zachary.

John Marcus chuckled. “And where have your strong words gotten you, boy? Lassoed? Drug through the dirt? Rejected? Listenin’ to some old man chaw at’cha while you’re scrubbin’ pans? And you know what else? You’ll be here scrubbin’ these same pans, cursin’ these same whites two years from now, nary feelin’ any better or makin’ any progress.”

Zachary shook his head again. “I’d rather be an angry man than a happy nigger.”

John Marcus took him by the shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “That’s because you don’t know what happy is because you’re too busy bein’ angry. I don’t like what’s happenin’ around me, but I know one thing. It’s not gonna change tomorrow. It’s gonna be the same next week. Probably even by Christmastime, I’m still gonna have the same color they have decided is less than ‘dem. But I know this–if I believe they’re wrong, then there’s a God in heaven who knows it, too. And He told me there ain’t nothin’ a man sows that he doesn’t eventually have to pull up out of the ground and reap, and eat. So I’m workin’ on what I sow. I’m quietly learnin’ more than they want me to, and there are things around this ‘ole fifty-three acres that nobody knows how to do but me. Because when it came time for doin’ it, I learned it. And they were completely happy with me bein’ the pack mule.”

Zachary interrupted. “So what? So you’re a smart nigger without ever being able to be called smart, and being able to take the smart and use it for yourself.”

“Maybe so. But every time I master something of service and I serve it well, I gain the attention of the master who controls this household and I make myself of great value. Just the other day, young boy, several of the farm hands who own the plantation just south of here had to come to me to find out how to fix their plowshare and what to do for an ailing mule. Did they appreciate it? See, it doesn’t make any difference. In that minute, they had to admit they needed me. Maybe they choked on it; maybe they refused to completely give in. But they needed me. My Master is Jesus, and he told me that the more I serve, the more territory I gain.”

Zachary just shook his head, but he returned to his labor with a bit more respect.

In March of 1861, John Marcus passed away. He was the only slave allowed to be buried in the far corner of the white cemetery. Many of the townsfolk turned out to see the old servant put to rest. He had made more friends than enemies and to the surprise of a young worker who had finally adopted his philosophy…

Yes.

Zachary was set free.

It was the last request made by a servant to a plantation owner … but granted because of the teachings of a greater Master. 

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

 

The Sermon on the Mount in music and story. Click the mountain!

 

Click here to get info on the “Gospel According to Common Sense” Tour

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.

Click here to listen to Spirited music

Jesonian: Don’t Stop Believing… March 16, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog  

(2178)

I hate religion.

Maybe it’s because I suck at it.

I’ve  tried to be religious. Actually, I was attempting to be spiritual but it ended up being a big dose of “holy bowling.”

I’ve gone to prayer meetings and sat with folks as we watched the time pass–contemplating, meditating, praying, mumbling…well, any number of things. I’m not proud to admit this, but I didn’t get more godly. I got sleepy.

I’ve tried to do a lot of Bible reading. I’ve read the Bible through several times. But I have to admit that often when I get involved in that process, the terminology, the locations and even the plot line can be bewildering, befuddling and leave me baffled.

I understand the plan of salvation. Golly, I’ve participated in it. I do have Jesus as a Savior. I have met thousands of people who possess him as their personal Savior, but frankly, they do not have much to show for that experience in their own lives.

Am I weird here? For after all, do you go to an amusement park and come back the same? Shouldn’t the experience change you? At least make you aware that holy roller coasters are a good thing?

Some people go a little further than salvation. They take Jesus on as their “prayer buddy.” In other words, when problems come up, they go to prayer and ask God to intervene, interact,  intersect or intertwine. That’s good, too.

But shouldn’t prayer make us better people? Because there are people all over the world who pray, and then grab guns and go out and kill innocent civilians and children.

I’m not comfortable with that. So I came up with this word, “Jesonian.” I don’t have illusions of grandeur–that it’s going to catch on and become the next popular thing in this country. Maybe I’m a little selfish. It works for me, so if other people don’t want to participate, I still benefit.

See, Jesus is not just my savior. He’s not merely my prayer buddy.

Jesus is my mentor.

He offers a philosophy, a way of thinking, a style of life, and an attitude that is conducive to success on Planet Earth.

Otherwise, what’s the point?

Just a month ago I heard a preacher say to his congregation that the gospel doesn’t make sense to the world, and that the world is destined to reject it.

I don’t get that.

Why would Jesus come to earth to teach something that was even more obscure than the Judaism that already existed, and alienate mankind just so the tiny clique which accepted him could walk around thumping their chests and pointing to the heavens, assuming approval?

No, you see, the gospel does make sense. After you get done with selfishness, depression, stupidity, arrogance and debauchery, you realize that life requires a certain amount of temperance, brilliance, creativity and mercy. Until then, you are a pestilence to those around you rather than a person of interest.

Jesonian is when we finally realize that a Savior who answers prayers would really like us to follow his words. Matter of fact, he said it:

“If you love me, keep my commandments.”

So when you hear me use the word Jesonian, what I’m talking about is going beyond the selfishness of salvation and the myopia of prayer, into discovering the lifestyle of Jesus–and then using that energy to become a better human being and a more successful force of nature.

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

Click for details on the SpirTed 2014 presentation

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.

click to hear music from Spirited 2014

Boy and Dad… October 5, 2012

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Live from October 1st filming

He was a musician. I’m not talking about one of those prissy choral directors who sit around shuffling papers and complaining about off-pitch altos. He was a songwriter who loved to rock out and was willing to dance to the beat of exhilarating music.

He was passionate. But you must understand that passion is not a barn where you store up good notions to use on intelligent occasions. Passion is a wide-open plain filled with thorns, thistles, cacti, poisonous snakes, adventure and mountains. Passion refuses to be restricted by either temperance or the rules of the day.

So even though he was a man of God, he was also a man of the flesh. He loved women. He loved to be enthralled and overtaken by circumstance.

He loved the fight. Yes, he was a warrior–a gentle, romantic barbarian. He viewed the world in black and white and saw enemies instead of potential allies. He embraced those who embraced him and fought off those who rejected the simplicity of his common sense.

At one time in his youth, he trusted, only to be chased down by his mentor and relegated to the status of a slave. He rebelled against control but often found himself in authority over those who were less likely to achieve success than he was.

His mouth was filled with praise but his heart was filled with rage. He spent his whole life trying to balance the two forces, allowing repentance to be the buffer–a healing balm.

He had children, but did not know how to father them, and when he did parent them, he was either too gentle or too confused. You see, he possessed the nature of a lion, the energy of a king and the attributes of a rabble-rouser. In the midst of his marriage, he was tempted by a woman so beautiful, so significant and so needful that he acquired her and killed for her.

Through their union a son was born. The angry musician who loved God but did not understand earth wanted better for his offspring. So he taught the boy to learn instead of fight. He instructed him in poetry and prose instead of swords and spears. He asked the young lad to believe in the power of conversation instead of the marching of troops. He tried to instill passion into his son, but a bridled version, which was not subject to mere whim or appetite.

The father died. It was the son’s turn to rule.

The young man only asked for one thing: wisdom.

He wanted to understand instead of being constantly frustrated by what he beheld. He was given wisdom, and with wisdom, to his surprise, came all the other blessings and gifts of earthly treasure.

He was healthy, he was wealthy and he was wise.

Yet with all his wisdom, he failed to acquire true relationship with the God who had granted him this perception, so even though he rejected the notorious fierceness of his father, he still saw the futility of human effort and obtained his own form of resentment. He became a cynic.

His wisdom changed into mere knowledge, and knowledge, when left to itself, produces a madness in the soul–an insanity without remedy. It makes us believe that there is “nothing new under the sun.”

But because he possessed wisdom, he survived his temporary bout with doubt and in the end, came out believing.

Two men–father and son.

A father who was engorged in human emotion and blemished by error, who loved life and God with all of his heart.

A son who sought wisdom, found knowledge, but for a season was trapped in his own cynicism–until the possibility of hope sprang eternally in the depths of his being.

The father was David. The son was Solomon.

Every man needs to understand that he will pass on to his son both his virtue and his failings. If the son gains wisdom through the father’s failings, then in the end, the message will survive and see a better day. But the son must remember not to lose the virtue of the father’s passion, or a sarcastic spirit will torment his soul.

Boy and dad. The miracle of life continues–hopefully progressing with passion and wisdom towards greater understanding.

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

Boy and Dad… October 5, 2012

(1,659)

Live from October 1st filming

He was a musician. I’m not talking about one of those prissy choral directors who sit around shuffling papers and complaining about off-pitch altos. He was a songwriter who loved to rock out and was willing to dance to the beat of exhilarating music.

He was passionate. But you must understand that passion is not a barn where you store up good notions to use on intelligent occasions. Passion is a wide-open plain filled with thorns, thistles, cacti, poisonous snakes, adventure and mountains. Passion refuses to be restricted by either temperance or the rules of the day.

So even though he was a man of God, he was also a man of the flesh. He loved women. He loved to be enthralled and overtaken by circumstance.

He loved the fight. Yes, he was a warrior–a gentle, romantic barbarian. He viewed the world in black and white and saw enemies instead of potential allies. He embraced those who embraced him and fought off those who rejected the simplicity of his common sense.

At one time in his youth, he trusted, only to be chased down by his mentor and relegated to the status of a slave. He rebelled against control but often found himself in authority over those who were less likely to achieve success than he was.

His mouth was filled with praise but his heart was filled with rage. He spent his whole life trying to balance the two forces, allowing repentance to be the buffer–a healing balm.

He had children, but did not know how to father them, and when he did parent them, he was either too gentle or too confused. You see, he possessed the nature of a lion, the energy of a king and the attributes of a rabble-rouser. In the midst of his marriage, he was tempted by a woman so beautiful, so significant and so needful that he acquired her and killed for her.

Through their union a son was born. The angry musician who loved God but did not understand earth wanted better for his offspring. So he taught the boy to learn instead of fight. He instructed him in poetry and prose instead of swords and spears. He asked the young lad to believe in the power of conversation instead of the marching of troops. He tried to instill passion into his son, but a bridled version, which was not subject to mere whim or appetite.

The father died. It was the son’s turn to rule.

The young man only asked for one thing: wisdom.

He wanted to understand instead of being constantly frustrated by what he beheld. He was given wisdom, and with wisdom, to his surprise, came all the other blessings and gifts of earthly treasure.

He was healthy, he was wealthy and he was wise.

Yet with all his wisdom, he failed to acquire true relationship with the God who had granted him this perception, so even though he rejected the notorious fierceness of his father, he still saw the futility of human effort and obtained his own form of resentment. He became a cynic.

His wisdom changed into mere knowledge, and knowledge, when left to itself, produces a madness in the soul–an insanity without remedy. It makes us believe that there is “nothing new under the sun.”

But because he possessed wisdom, he survived his temporary bout with doubt and in the end, came out believing.

Two men–father and son.

A father who was engorged in human emotion and blemished by error, who loved life and God with all of his heart.

A son who sought wisdom, found knowledge, but for a season was trapped in his own cynicism–until the possibility of hope sprang eternally in the depths of his being.

The father was David.

The son was Solomon.

Every man needs to understand that he will pass on to his son both his virtue and his failings. If the son gains wisdom through the father’s failings, then in the end, the message will survive and see a better day. But the son must remember not to lose the virtue of the father’s passion, or a sarcastic spirit will torment his soul.

Boy and dad.

The miracle of life continues–hopefully progressing with passion and wisdom towards greater understanding.

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