Jesonian: G to the 3rd Power … November 1st, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Giving is the only way to get.

That concept is so contrary to human understanding that we continue to grovel, steal, cheat and grope to acquire our portion, promising ourselves that once we become solvent we will help others.

The problem with being so self-concerned is that there are eight billion other “self-concerners.” So unfortunately, the philosophy of “taking” places those who are dominant in charge, heavy-laden with prosperity.

Guess what? When they get their power, they soon forget their promise to share.

Giving, on the other hand, is the true definition of pro-choice. It is the only thing in life that we can point towards as an expression of our free will.

Therefore, the Jesonian way of living is a “giving” profile.

But what should we give? It is “giving to the 3rd power,” starting with:

1. Give a talent.

Honestly, no one will be interested in you unless you have something to offer to the tribe. You can continue to insist that the grace of God grants you eternal life while you languish in your inadequacy, but remember–Jesus told two parables about talents. You can interpret them as you will, but the conclusion is that he who multiplied his talents was rewarded.

Matter of fact, Jesus punctuated this by saying, “Let your light so shine before men that they will see your good WORKS and glorify the Father in Heaven.”

If you do not show up prepared to give a talent in life, you should be aware that you will be refused a voice in your generation.

2. Give a mind.

We are taught to “give an opinion.”

An opinion is our experience within our mind, but there is an open space where we need to acquire the insights of others.

Giving a mind is a willingness to admit that we very well may need to flip-flop on our position because our opinion was not sufficient to meet the need. It’s why Jesus said we must “reason with our adversaries” instead of rejecting them, making fun of them, or voting them out of office.

Blessed is the man who sits down with both the conservative and the liberal and walks away with common sense.

3. And finally, give a damn.

Somewhere along the line, people are going to watch to see:

What you do when you have two,

Will it be one for me

And one for you?

Generosity is not a meeting place in the heart, where we decide what we can “afford,” but rather, a realization that we truly cannot afford to have a heart that is not generous.

If you put your own face on the face of every victim, sufferer, struggler, unwed mother and junkie, you will soon find that it is much easier to have compassion.

The Jesonian is simple to define: Jesus without religion.

And Jesus taught us G to the 3rd power:

• Give a talent
• Give a mind
• Give a damn

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Flawed and Blessed… September 25, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2017)

A rather new phenomenon. At least, I think so.

I can’t remember a time in my four-decade career when people have led so persistently with their diagnoses.

Perhaps that’s a bit unclear. Here’s what I mean: when I meet new human beings, within a very short time they tell me what ails them, the name of their condition, their treatment, and sometimes even the conclusion.

Now, this is not limited to older people. Younger folks do the same thing, although sometimes it will be proffered from their parents standing nearby.

To a certain degree I think our society has become the victim of “diagnosis-hocus-pocus.” Rather than coming to the conclusion that we’re just human beings, and therefore an amazing collage of “flawed” and “blessed,” we are beginning to establish our distinction based upon the uniqueness of conditions.

I, too, received a diagnosis–actually, several of them–about eighteen years ago. I don’t share these. Why? Because pity in no way resembles respect, and sympathy is a horrible substitute for love. But if pity and sympathy are what you want, then having a nearly unpronounceable illness might be valuable.

I know this could be misinterpreted as an attack against the medical field, or some sort of assertion on my part that “we should not be so concerned about our health.” I do believe in modern medicine and am quite aware that ailments exist, even to the point of tormenting my brothers and sisters.

But I just think that how we feel cannot be the impetus for what we are.

We are all flawed–and if we develop a sense of joy about being alive, we can persevere and achieve blessing.

I, like all my fellow-travelers, could describe my aches and pains and keep you busy for a good hour and a half. But there’s a wonderful statement in the Good Book that says, “Let everything be done to the edification of all.”

I just don’t think anyone is edified by hearing me complain. I don’t think humanity grows by realizing my weaknesses.

Somewhere along the line, each one of us has to walk away from a diagnosis and move toward a prognosis of living on with a little hurt.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t take treatment–but I am saying that when treatment overtakes your desire to excel, multiply your talents and love life and the folks around you, you’ve already put one foot in the grave.

• Not every child who is hyperactive needs medication.
• Not ever skin rash is a sign that we are allergic to forty-four different chemicals.
• Not every headache is a brain tumor.
• And not every sore knee means that you should be wheeled into surgery and turned into an android.

All of us are graciously flawed and blessed–flawed in order to truly appreciate the value of our blessing; and blessed so that we don’t spend so much time thinking about our flaws.

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

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Unconditional Growth… July 18, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(1946)

I remember it vividly.

A mother came to me for counsel with her nineteen-year-old daughter, She explained that her parenting principle had always been “unconditional love.” All at once, in the middle of the mother’s speech, the girl interrupted, screeching, “Yes, mom! You gave met unconditional love, but you didn’t teach me how to make myself lovable!”

Perhaps that’s why we need two–a pair of parents, that is–one to maintain the standard while the other assures the child that there is no condemnation.

The Good Book tells us that God “disciplines those He loves”–and the truth of the matter is, a heaven with no hell is an invitation to mediocrity. And a hell with no benefit of a heaven is a plunge into dark despair.

In our generation, unconditional love has just become another “feel good” lie. We have several of them:

• Everyone is unique.
• Everyone deserves an equal chance
• There is no prejudice in our society.
•  And unconditional love is what we should offer one another.

But this is not the way human beings work. Certainly we need the reassurance that our inadequacies will not result in exclusion, but each one of us also needs to know that there IS a point of excellence which is required of us in order to be included in the circle of the celebration.

After God created man and woman, He told them to be fruitful–to multiply and replenish the earth. You can either believe that this was a message of mere exhortation, or realize that it was the yardstick set by the Divine for human development.

Be fruitful: don’t settle for what you’re doing if there’s a possibility of pursuing just a little further.

Multiply: take what you have and use it instead of hiding it, deriding it or explaining away your indecision through fear.

Replenish: stop being a taker. Give something back before you demand your next shipment.

When we finally arrive at the concept that unconditional love is really a belief in unconditional growth–a balance between maintaining a standard and making sure that those around us feel free of condemnation–yes, if we don’t start instituting that practice, we will have an ambiguous mission for our generation, which will leave people crying “foul” simply because they are challenged to do their jobs.

So if God isn’t always patting us on the head, telling us how cute we are, but instead, demanding that we repent and revise our deeds, why would we think that child-rearing should be any different?

Unconditional growth–the amazing mixture of maintaining the standard while providing the gentle reassurance of no condemnation.

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

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about personal appearances or scheduling an event

Quatrain of Talent … April 30, 2013

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Ability means “I can”

“Can” requires some practice

Practice makes perfect workers

Workers multiply their abilities.

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

“My God-given American right…” July 3, 2012

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I read it off a bumper sticker on the back of a puke-green, mud-splattered pick-up truck. So you know it has to be true. Yes, I am back in Dixie, where all chicken is fried, all biscuits are covered with gravy and all truths are simple.

I love the south–at least, many things about it. There is a quiet hospitality available at the root of its motivation. But I’ve always been uncomfortable with any group of people who too closely mingle God and country. Historically, it’s proven to be a nasty mixture–whether it was the Roman Empire trying to make Caesar divine, or Hitler manifesting a super-race. Whenever nationalism and spirituality tango, the result is a tangled mess.

But the bumper sticker did get me thinking. Are there any “God-given, American rights?” Are there any standards, beliefs and guarantees granted to each of us simply because we were created by God and born in the United States?

I came up with a list of seven. I believe that if you listen to them carefully and follow them fervently, you will discover that a universal unction of benefit will be provided your way. They don’t really have much to do with our Bill of Rights, which tends to create more debate than progress, but rather, are the careful blending of the heart of God with the will of our nation.

1. You have the God-given American right to get as much liberty as you’re willing to give. Liberty is a slippery slope. You are completely free to seek it–as long as you’re willing to grant it to others. The minute you limit the possibility of another citizen, that measure will be measured back to you.

2. You have the God-given American right to prosper as you work and multiply your talents. There is no reason to believe that laziness or a sense of entitlement will provide for your common needs. There is also no scenario where continuing to do the same things repetitively will increase your coffers. You must work, keeping an eye on ways to expand.

3. You have a God-given American right to be loved exactly at the level with which you love. The minute we begin to believe that certain people are attractive, colorized correctly or financially solvent enough to receive more attention, our whole system of government and belief fall apart.

4. You have the God-given American right to be given to–at the rate you give. One of the “rules of the jungle” in human behavior is the precept that selfish people eventually get starved out. We tend to give to people who give. At first it may not seem that way. There may be the deceptive appearance that greedy people actually achieve success more quickly. But that’s only because those who are plotting revenge against them need time to perfect their plan.

5. You have the God-given American right to receive blessing if you’re willing to survive hassle. Blessing is not a portion provided for those who whine, complain or pout. Blessing is built into the natural order, to be the prize given to those individuals who stop resisting change, find a way to conquer the hassles that come along and introduce inventive ideas.

6. You have the God-given American right to be included as long as you believe that “NoOne is better than anyone else.” Even though the principle is a bit simplistic, and I suppose, deemed arguable by disagreeable people, any other approach creates too many prejudices that shut the door to others–thus eventually shutting the door to ourselves.

7. And finally, you have the God-given American right to respect your heavenly Father, honor Mother Earth, and live at peace with your sisters and brothers. Fussy children spend most of their available hours in “time out.” Yes, life has time out. When you’re not willing to give place to God, honor to Mother Earth and respect to your brothers and sisters, you will spend a lot of your earth journey missing out on opportunity, eating your peas and carrots without dessert.

So there you go. On this day before the 236th birthday of our country, you have my particular list of our God-given American rights. Forgive me if I left out some favorites–like brattiness, indifference, provincialism, regionalism, nationalism, political parties or religious intolerance. The truth is, certain trends may be given a podium and an ear for a season, but history tells us that they eventually will be snuffed out by the desire of the people and the intelligent will of God.

So take heart. Receiving our God-given American rights takes a little more than dropping a buck on the desk at a convenience store and picking up a bumper sticker and slapping it on the back of your favorite ride. It means being prepared to give everybody else what you want.

It means being human … and allowing others to do the same.

   

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

A Wilderness Crying with a Voice… March 12, 2012

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Sunday morning in Tucson, Arizona.

Blessed man that I am, I found myself with the unique opportunity to come before a gathering of good folks and share my heart. Since my platform of communication is a church, I am fully aware that the green pastures are often inhabited by sacred cows. I certainly do not wish to be insensitive, but a certain number of sacred cows need to be butchered. Otherwise we can’t have a good steak dinner.

But which ones? Which notions grounded in social acceptance, which have become part of the general thinking of the American public, need to be spoofed and gently illuminated, to discover more useful awareness?

For me it’s easy. Instead of having a “voice crying in the wilderness” in our generation, we have a wilderness crying with a voice. We have given a megaphone to confusion. We have vacuous, empty-souled people who have been granted the privilege of screaming their frustrations and attitudes on reality shows, with politicians vacant of new ideas attacking their opponents, as religion opts to fuss and fidget over social issues instead of more soulful concerns.

It’s not just that the inmates are in charge of the asylum. It’s more dangerous than that. The inmates have the key to the drug cabinets and are beginning to distribute medication to the masses, in order to intoxicate our country in a dizzying stupor of “who cares?” Spend a few minutes watching television, perusing the news or even listening to the lyrics of many of the songs, and you will understand that the wilderness is crying with a voice. The wilderness, having no boundaries or sensibility of its own, is now claiming the be able to lead a people who are trying to escape bondage. It is the bland leading the bland. What characterizes this wilderness? It consists of a group of people who have:

1. Nothing to be. Everything is up for grabs. Cynicism has replaced faith. Sarcasm is the new humor and pursuing understanding is viewed as a useless step when retaliation and retribution appear to be more satisfying. Over the past week I have heard three different television shows off-handedly make fun of the Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” It was mocked as an archaic concept which never works. If we are not to have empathy towards our fellow-man, then we are going into human relationships demanding acceptance while offering no desire to accomodate. That may be the actual definition of war. And since these people have nothing to be, it lends itself to:

2. Nothing to say. This is why we have so many re-makes, re-dos and re-sharings of old ideas–because when our artists reach into their minds for fresh concepts, the lack of anything to be renders them mute of anything to say. If you want something to say, you’ve got to decide what you’re going to be. And if what you’re going to be is even influenced by the twenty-four-hour news cycle, you will be at the mercy of parroting what the pundits have said. Curiously, once you have nothing to say, you may find yourself with:

3. Nothing to do. America requires an agenda of entertainment, pre-fabricated in some boardroom to inspire the people to perform what they, themselves can no longer muster. When you don’t know what you’re going to be and you don’t know what you’re going to say, how could you possibly know what to do? It so reminds me of liturgy in the church. When you actually isolate the words written by inspired men and women of previous generations, well … they’re magnificent. But when they are spoken in a monotone by those who do not know what to be, say or do, they proceed from the mouth like dust blown in the wind. Interestingly enough, when you have nothing to do, there is:

4. Nothing to believe. I know the common thought is that first we believe and then we do, but actually, in human beings, the nature of our deep beliefs is accessed from actions in our lives which have proven to bear fruit. In other words “that which I have seen and heard, I declare unto you” instead of “that which I have been taught or heard preached.” The wilderness which cries with a voice is peppered with those who do not believe anymore because they have stopped doing, are completely baffled about what to say because they have no idea on who to be. And of course, when you remove a sense of belief, the final step is:

5. Nothing to feel.  And human beings who were created with nerve endings primed and ready to explode with joy are instead dulled into a sleepiness where they are overly fretful, suspicious and eventually numb of understanding.Then we take this status–this dead wilderness and graveyard of human lack of sensation–and proclaim it to be “normal.” After all, isn’t it normal to be uncertain about who you want to be? Isn’t it just logical sometimes to be devoid of things to say? Certainly all of us are bewildered about what to do. Right? And it’s only natural that we should be a bit befuddled on a course of belief. And finally–feeling…well, feelings can be over-rated and certainly over-stated.

So by the time I see a collection of friends on a Sunday morning, they have gone through the gauntlet of listening to an entire week of “the wilderness crying with a voice”: nothing to be, nothing to say, nothing to do, nothing to believe and therefore, nothing to feel.

What’s my job? I start at the bottom nd work my way up.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. For the next forty minutes, let’s dare to feel. In the process of doing that, what will emerge is something that we truly can believe in. Might we take that beleif and simply find one thing to go out and do that resembles the intensity of our faith? And once we have done that thing, let’s take our voices and speak the goodness of our discovery. And having spoken those praise-worthy thoughts, may we allow it to affect what we decide to be from this point forward?”

It’s my job. I just happen to love it.

I don’t resent the wilderness. I just realize that everyone who comes from there and has spent any time in it … feels lost.

************** 

Got a question for Jonathan? Or would you like to receive a personal weekly email? Just click my email address below and let me know what’s on your mind! jonathancring@gmail.com

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Below is the first chapter of Jonathan Richard Cring’s stunning novel entitled Preparing a Place for Myself—the story of a journey after death. It is a delicious blend of theology and science fiction that will inspire and entertain. I thought you might enjoy reading it. After you do, if you would like to read the book in its entirety, please click on the link below and go to our tour store. The book is being offered at the special price of $4.99 plus $3.99 shipping–a total of $8.98. Enjoy.

http://www.janethan.com/tour_store.htm

Sitting One

 I died today. 

I didn’t expect it to happen.  Then again, I did—well, not really.

No, I certainly didn’t expect it.

I’ve had moments of clarity in my life.  Amazingly enough, many of them were in the midst of a dream. For a brief second I would know the meaning of life or the missing treatment to cure cancer.  And then as quickly as it popped into my mind it was gone. I really don’t recollect dying.  Just this unbelievable sense of clear headedness—like walking into a room newly painted and knowing by the odor and brightness that the color on the wall is so splattering new that you should be careful not to touch it for fear of smearing the design. The greatest revelation of all? 

Twenty-five miles in the sky time ceases to exist.

The planet Pluto takes two hundred and forty-eight years to circle the sun. It doesn’t give a damn. 

The day of my death was the day I became free of the only burden I really ever had.  TIME.

Useless.

Time is fussy.  Time is worry. 

Time is fear.  Time is the culprit causing human-types to recoil from pending generosity. 

There just was never enough time. 

Time would not allow it.  Remember—“if time permits …”

Why if time permits?  Why not if I permit?  Why not if I dream?  Why not if I want?  Why does time get to dictate to me my passage? 

It was time that robbed me of my soulful nature.    It was time that convinced me that my selfishness was needed. 

I didn’t die. The clock in me died, leaving spirit to tick on.  

So why don’t we see the farce of time?  Why do we allow ourselves to fall under the power of the cruel despot?  Yes, time is a relentless master—very little wage for much demand.

I died today. 

Actually … a piece of time named after me was cast away.

Lou’s Words… March 11, 2012

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They squeezed us onto the show.

Favors were called in, shuffling of schedule ensued, and the good folks at the Grand Ole’ Opry decided to allow our little up-and-coming group to appear on the show to sing one song. We had just finished recording our new album at the House of Cash (Johnny Cash‘s studio) and our fledgling record company, which had taken a chance on us, making us their first release, was able to wheedle and deedle a slot for us to present one of our tunes on this national platform.

Of course, we were excited beyond words. We rehearsed with a band, since the Opry demands that all music be live, and we prepared for the show. One of the steps of our preparation was to contact a female agent in Nashville, Tennessee, who had expressed some interest in our group and was considering becoming our agent. Her name was Lou. What a tremendous chance this was for us.When we invited her to hear us at the Opry, she said she had already planned to be there and was looking forward to seeing how well we handled the pressure.

The day arrived. I could barely breathe, I was so excited. We rehearsed one more time with our band, picked out the wardrobe we would wear on the show and arrived backstage at the Grand Ole’ Opry, peering like a bunch of tourists at all the country music stars. I met Lou, she gave us encouraging words, and before we knew it, we were being announced to the audience.

As I walked onto the stage, I looked back and saw Lou perched right behind the curtain, ready to take in every single moment. I was thrilled. As soon as we arrived at our microphones, the leader of our band counted off the song and our musicians began to play. But they were apparently equally as nervous as us, and started the song much too fast–what one might call a “Keystone Cop tempo.” Matter of fact, it was so speedy that I wasn’t exactly sure where to leap in. But not wanting to be embarrassed in front of an audience from all over the country, I closed my eyes and took the jump by faith, and by the grace of God must have caught the right note, as my other two cohorts grabbed at my coattails and followed. After that, everything became easier. Matter of fact, as we played the song, other musicians standing backstage waiting to perform came onto the set and joined in–so by the end, the number of back-up musicians had nearly tripled.

It was a great performance. The audience was responsive, pitch was correct and our original song was received with immense enthusiasm. I walked off stage floating on air, which, for a guy my size, demands a lot of emotional helium. There was Lou, beaming at us. She gave us hugs and we escaped back to a side room, where she wanted to talk with us.

I even brought along a special pen, prepared to sign a contract to make this woman our agent–so she could launch us into fame. We got back into a private area, closed the door, and Lou said the magic words. “I want to sign you. You guys are great.”

I think all three of us squealed (of course, mine being the more masculine of the trio). Lou continued, “Now, what I want you to do is give me all the leads for your upcoming dates and all the people you have met as you’ve traveled across the country.”

I was perplexed. You see, I thought Lou was going to come along and place us in situations already organized, so we could simply come in and become famous. She shook her head and explained the system to us. Gently and tenderly, she informed us that an agent merely puts a magnifying glass on the beauty and power of what was already there. Well, since we were just starting, we didn’t know very many people and even fewer knew us. She told us to think it over and get back to her. I’ll never forget her closing words.

“I can take your talent and who you know and get you more for it, but I can’t get you more talent or make you known.”

We never signed with Lou. We were too young, inexperienced, raw and without reputation to give her much to work with. But I never forgot her words–because sometimes I get around people who kneel in prayer, expecting God to become their agent for success, prosperity and a life free of difficulty. When they realize that God has heard their prayer, they are suddenly elated at the potential of being freed of all responsibility. And then they hear the words–really, the same ones that Lou spoke that night backstage at the Grand Ole Opry. Because God says to all of us, “I can take your talent and who you know and get you more for it. But I can’t give you more talent and make you known.”

Any spiritual experience that erodes to mere religion preaches an over-dependence on God’s intervention, rendering us weak and without resource. But true spirituality is when you realize that you have talent that needs multiplying, and that there is a world of people out there to meet–if you’re not afraid of them.That in itself, with the mercy and caring of God, is enough to propel you to sufficiency and beyond.

Lou’s words are no different from God’s. Use the talent you have and don’t be afraid of people, and miraculously, it would seem … doors will open.

************** 

Got a question for Jonathan? Or would you like to receive a personal weekly email? Just click my email address below and let me know what’s on your mind! jonathancring@gmail.com

**************

Below is the first chapter of Jonathan Richard Cring’s stunning novel entitled Preparing a Place for Myself—the story of a journey after death. It is a delicious blend of theology and science fiction that will inspire and entertain. I thought you might enjoy reading it. After you do, if you would like to read the book in its entirety, please click on the link below and go to our tour store. The book is being offered at the special price of $4.99 plus $3.99 shipping–a total of $8.98. Enjoy.

http://www.janethan.com/tour_store.htm

Sitting One

 I died today. 

I didn’t expect it to happen.  Then again, I did—well, not really.

No, I certainly didn’t expect it.

I’ve had moments of clarity in my life.  Amazingly enough, many of them were in the midst of a dream. For a brief second I would know the meaning of life or the missing treatment to cure cancer.  And then as quickly as it popped into my mind it was gone. I really don’t recollect dying.  Just this unbelievable sense of clear headedness—like walking into a room newly painted and knowing by the odor and brightness that the color on the wall is so splattering new that you should be careful not to touch it for fear of smearing the design. The greatest revelation of all? 

Twenty-five miles in the sky time ceases to exist.

The planet Pluto takes two hundred and forty-eight years to circle the sun. It doesn’t give a damn. 

The day of my death was the day I became free of the only burden I really ever had.  TIME.

Useless.

Time is fussy.  Time is worry. 

Time is fear.  Time is the culprit causing human-types to recoil from pending generosity. 

There just was never enough time. 

Time would not allow it.  Remember—“if time permits …”

Why if time permits?  Why not if I permit?  Why not if I dream?  Why not if I want?  Why does time get to dictate to me my passage? 

It was time that robbed me of my soulful nature.    It was time that convinced me that my selfishness was needed. 

I didn’t die. The clock in me died, leaving spirit to tick on.  

So why don’t we see the farce of time?  Why do we allow ourselves to fall under the power of the cruel despot?  Yes, time is a relentless master—very little wage for much demand.

I died today. 

Actually … a piece of time named after me was cast away.