Leaning … November 18, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2070)

I said yes to life, so here comes no–to give me a chance to prove my point.

The push.

I shove off to achieve and circumstances push back. Now what?

Leaning–either to my own understanding, or trusting God. One makes sense to me and the other sounds really religious. But here’s the problem with my understanding: it is generations and generations and situations and situations, literally screaming at me, “Be careful!”

Now deep in my soul I know that I’ve never been successful while pursuing a path of caution. I haven’t even managed to manipulate a comfortable status quo. After all, the world is filled with tribulation and if you’re not prepared to adjust to the new dilemmas, you will lose ground even if you don’t move one way or the other.

• My understanding tells me to find a safe path.
• My understanding reminds me to protect myself.
• My understanding has a tendency to negate the feelings of others.
• My understanding generates suspicion which limits my possibilities by removing folks who could be my benefactors.

Trusting God is the step of allowing myself to “be ready.” Ready for what?

• Ready for change.
• Ready for adjustment,
• Ready to use my talents.
• Ready to recognize opportunity.
• Ready to completely alter my circumstances if such a maneuver grants me my heart’s desire.

Yes, it comes down to a choice between “be careful” and “be ready.”

Case in point is what happened to me this weekend in Vandalia. I was a little bit frustrated with the circumstances of an engagement that came our way. It was a late-notice arrangement and I was never fully convinced that the venue wanted us to come in the first place. I’m a human being. I want to be loved, I want to be appreciated and I want to be needed. I felt the church had decided to “accommodate” me. I hate that word. I don’t want to be accommodated–I want to be desired.

So because of that, when a storm watch foretold of bad weather on Sunday night, I seized on the opportunity to cancel the date, fully aware that if there were a tornado watch in the air, all of God’s little children would scurry to their basements.

You see, it sounds logical. But actually I was being careful.

Careful about the storm, careful about the audience, and mostly–careful to avoid humiliation by small attendance.

As it turns out, the alleged vicious outpouring from the heavens never materialized and the concert could have been held without interruption.

My leaning was to my own understanding. Rather than being ready to use my talents, abilities and take a chance that things would work out to the good, I decided to be careful. I did it because I was frustrated, cautious and quite honestly, a little lazy.

So the good folks of Vandalia never got a chance to receive what we could share with them.

• I was tentative
• I was traditional.
• I was fussy.
• I decided to be careful.

And by the way…I was wrong.

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

The Four … November 17, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2070)

Congress gathered together this week and honored their rituals and traditions, yet ignored reality.

Churches are meeting this morning, acting out their rituals and traditions, yet ignoring reality.

Even our families join in fellowship, enacting all traditions and rituals, but ignoring reality.

There are four of them–yes, a quartet of truths that cannot be ignored in the pursuit of maintaining the elements of a government, a religion or a people.

1. It takes work.

Any group that comes along and suggests that grace or doling out free stuff to human beings is a solution to our problems is pandering to the public instead of honestly addressing the needs of human beings. We do understand that it takes work; we just hope that in one area we can skip the labor and go straight to the miracle.

It is completely possible for God to give us grace but still expect us to get off our cans and do something. There’s no contradiction here.

2. NoOne is better than anyone else.

Any nation, style of spirituality or philosophy that contradicts this idea or adds exceptions to the concept is afoul of truth. There are no “chosen people;” there are no “special gifts” given to one over another. We’re in this together. Even when human perversion may seem to contradict the idea, we still have the responsibility to hold on to the principle with all of our might.

3. The truth will make you free.

Can we learn once and for all that the only sin in the world is lying? If we stop lying, we’re halfway down the road to repentance–and repentance is the opposite of sin.

4. Free will is sacred.

If you find yourself needing to control other people by either using your will or God’s will, you are already wrong. God would rather have human beings kill each other than take away their choice to do so. If you don’t understand that, you don’t get the power of creation.

I call this The Four. And I find that I only become confused when I turn my back on them.

• When I think that God will solve my problems instead of using my own talent and work to do so, I end up looking stupid.
• When I believe that I’m better than someone else, life always disproves my theory.
• If I slide into a lie, thinking I can fool the public, there is always someone smarter than me who exposes my idiocy
• And when I think I know best for everyone else and take away their decision to choose, the Spirit of God departs from my life.

I would welcome you to look over these and decide where you stand for yourself.

But I know that nothing of significance will happen in our world without The Four being given their honor.

 

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

(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

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

An Aethist’s Prayer… May 16, 2012

(1,516) 

I was in a dark corner by myself when he entered. Not recognizing me–or noticing me, for that matter–he lifted his head and began to speak.

“I am embarrassed. Maybe better phrased … humiliated. I am a person in good standing and on record as not believing in You. God is not a Person that I worship, nor do I choose to use Him as the implement for damning anything. I think what angers me the most about this moment is that I am suddenly being transported from the purity of my glorious atheism to the lesser nobility of agnosticism–simply by conversing with what should be perceived as a vacancy. I want You to understand–my antipathy is stronger than that. I don’t believe in You. So I suppose it begs the question: why, then, am I standing here with my head lifted up like a baby bird seeking its daily worm, chatting with the air, the walls and the ceiling? Do You understand? It is not faith that has brought me here. Rather, desperation.

There are times I just get tired of hearing my own thoughts bouncing around and echoing in my head, trying to find a landing-place in reason. I try to include other people’s opinions and feelings, but they are not me. They do not understand me. And the more forceful they become–trying to subject their will upon me–the more they resemble You–with your edicts, commandments and holy writ–keeping men baffled rather than benefitted.

Yes. I am confused. Why do You choose to be so absent? People insist that You’re not–and they cite examples of the sun, the moon and the stars. My thought is, why don’t we just go back to being ancient Romans, worshipping the elements instead of the Elementer? Would it kill You to make Yourself more obvious? Every once in a while, the ideas You hold so dear should win the day in such a positive manner that the whole world would be shaken to an awareness of the wisdom of Your path. It confuses me. I do understand why You have chosen not to be a self-promoter, but really, is the profile of a hermit sufficient for You to fulfill giving us our daily bread? So You’re probably thinking–if I have so many complaints, why am I here, chattering about this nonsense? It is this yearning inside of me that seems to be the only thing greater than my doubt. I want a reason to continue my humanity instead of becoming the grouchy old troll who perches under the bridge of happiness, growling at anyone who would dare to cross.

The thing I hate about being an atheist is that the absence of God, though simplifying, is rarely comforting. It’s wonderful to believe in a world where You don’t exist, because then it comes down to equations, numbers, inventory and implementation. But these are so sterile when left to themselves, without the motivation of something. I just find it difficult to believe that this SOMETHING is a Universal King who reigns over the entire cosmos, yet somehow or another has the capability of being concerned over the texture of my fried rice.

And the more I think about it, the more angry I become. Here’s what really pisses me off: why do You have such crappy followers? Looking at Your entourage, one would have to believe that You despise intelligence, abhor diversity and reject all attempts to accept questioning. Why do you call them “sheep” and then basically make fun of their sheepishness? Is it a gag? Is it a challenge? Are You trying to increase the difficulty of saving the world by using the most inept people You can find? Is it an issue of trying to achieve Your purposes with one arm tied behind Your back and the other hand fiddling a banjo? Do You hate the brain? It is the new Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, stuck into the garden of our lives? Yet You scream at us if we partake of the fruit of thoughtfulness?

If You dare to call Yourself ‘God,’ don’t You think You should do better? Honestly, I could lobby for a suit against you for false advertising. You often remind me of a deadbeat dad who has to be drug into court to finally pay child support. Of course, all of this is based upon the paper-thin pretext that I believe in You–which I don’t. I would not describe what I feel as belief, but rather, wishing. It’s not the same thing. If You do exist and have some sort of eternal home for Your faithful, I couldn’t get there by wishing, could I? No, it seems I would have to buy the whole sticky ball of wax. If I want heaven, I’ve got to believe in hell. To hell with that! If I’m going to believe in God, somehow or another I have to concede that there’s a devil. What a copout!

What do I wish? I wish You had an ear so You could hear; eyes so You could see me as I am; fingers so you could touch the parts of my life that I’m proud of. I wish you had a smell that could trigger an awareness of true beauty. I wish you had good taste–and judging from the music and literature of Your followers, I think it’s safe to say–You don’t. I wish you had senses. Why did You give them to me and refuse them for Yourself?

So even though I’m talking to myself and pretending that my imaginary friend might actually be here, I guess what I’ve come to say is that I’ve decided. Let me rephrase that to–‘I’m deciding.‘

I’m deciding to use mine. If You actually exist in any form or shape, I just can’t believe You’re going to punish me because I use my ears to hear beauty, my eyes to see possibilities, my hands to touch people in need. I can’t believe that You’re going to be angry if I make the world more fragrant and tasteful. I don’t know whether I like You or not–which makes atheism my better choice. Because if You existed, I’d have to tell You how disillusioned you’ve made me. Not believing in You makes me seem less vindictive.

Thank You for Your time–if You have any. I guess I just wanted You, myself and I to know that I’m deciding to do my best as a human … without a God. If it’s not possible, I certainly will die trying.”

He suddenly was finished. He left, never aware of my presence. I remained in the dark corner, contemplating his words. Embarrassed, confused, yearning, angry, wishing, deciding.

I realized that faith is often better understood when you catch it on a bad day.

   

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

Even Stephen … May 7, 2012

(1,507) 

Possibly one of the most arduous treks across this great country would be the stretch of miles along I-20 between Dallas, Texas and El Paso. Historically I have chosen to make this journey at night to avoid the heat and glare of the day. One time as I sojourned on this particular piece of real estate, I saw lights in the distance. I was approaching the small city of Odessa, and as the brightness grew in size, I assumed it WAS Odessa. But as I came closer, I saw that it was an edifice, the size of a city itself–actually invoking a sense of awe, which grew in intensity as I came closer. For me, it merged the sensations of Christmas, Las Vegas and the Beverly Hillbillies–for it was an oil rig. The largest one I had ever seen. 

Black gold.

Texas tea. 

Suddenly my nostrils were assailed by the burn of that unique, pungent odor — and it smelled GOOD. Now, there may be folks who would disagree with me, but I like the smell of fresh oil being pumped from the earth–the very energy of both power and also of prosperity. It was a visceral moment on a very long, dark journey.

I had a similar sensation yesterday doing two performances at St. Stephen’s Lutheran Church of the Valley in Palmdale, California. As I shared, I literally witnessed minds opening–like lubricating the gears on a bicycle with oil. For truly the main problem I have with traditional religion is that the inevitable result of repetition is the literal numbing of  people’s minds.Once-meaningful liturgy, through repetition, becomes mindless drone.

I would like to encourage churches everywhere to make two simple changes in the format of the church service: to replace one liturgical recitation with a moment of personal testimony from a parishoner, and during the passing of the peace, instead of offering one another a “peace be with you,” instead offer the exhortation: “Be of good cheer!”

Because just as repetition produces rusty mental gears, the sharing of personal experiences generates the oil of gladness. After all, Jesus said that in the world we WILL have tribulation. Our only job is to “be of good cheer.” That’s it. We don’t have to solve every problem today–and his job was to overcome the world. We don’t have to do that, either. We only have to understand that our place in the great scheme of things is to avoid repetition, share personal experiences and receive the good cheer that results.

Yesterday, as I witnessed lubricated gears beginning to move and saw the resulting good cheer, I saw that there is another, final culmination in the process–the oil of healing. Yes, mental freshness produces good cheer, which fosters the environment for healing–be it depression or terminal cancer.

Similar to the awe I sensed as I drove past the Odessa oil rig, with its power and energy, I felt the same wonder yesterday at St. Stephen’s Lutheran, viewing–and feeling myself–the energy of the oil of lubrication, the radiation of the good cheer and the power of healing oil passed among my brothers and sisters and back to me.

We try to make it hard. We talk about “contemporary” and “traditional.” But it is really just giving good people a chance to lubricate their rusty gears and then feel the oil of gladness and healing. After all, like the Tin Man, we all need a good oiling now and then.

Why not take the steps to make it happen?

  

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

Val’s Pals … February 14, 2012

 

(1424)

 

Valentine’s Day–a delivery system for chocolate, flowers, jewelry, aftershave, golf shirts and miscellaneous power tools. Yet–is it more than that? It could be–if we actually focused on relationship instead of just commemorating a once-great union of hearts.

 

In my lifetime, I have watched as the pendulum has swung from the extreme of Father Knows Best to “Mama Knows Everything.” There is a general misconception in dealing with interaction between the sexes that some sort of cushioning or compromise MUST be established–because we apparently are from different planets, arriving on spaceships fueled by diverse energy. Because of this false representation, we seek to compliment or ignore one another in the pursuit of domination. Domination is useless, especially when it comes to interfacing with someone we purport to love.

 

Yet in the times when Father was supposed to be the All Knowing, women were underpaid, not considered worthy of leadership on a national level (or even high management in corporations), a little unpredictable and ditzy and meant for the home, not the battlefield–be it war, politics or business.

 

Move ahead through years of alleged women’s liberation and cultural growth, and today we insist that women are smarter than men, as we continue to underpay them, forbid them high seats in government and the Fortune 500, think they’re very unpredictable and ditzy and keep them far from the front lines of the war–be it commercial, cultural or military.

 

So what has changed? All we have done is play a pretend game: “Women are really smarter than men, but after all, we don’t need smarter. We’ve got men!”

 

As long as the goal in any relationship is to dominate, we will never truly understand one another, no matter how many boxes of chocolates, bunches of flowers or trinkets are peddled. Somewhere along the line, we have to understand that true friendship is neither complimenting or ignoring, but rather, trying to stay on point and being as honest as we can, while dancing around trying not to offend.

 

If a woman can’t find that in her mate, she will have a best friend she converses with and a husband she tolerates.  May I immediately point out that merely tolerating another human being is not the greatest aphrodisiac to lead into the bedroom? So then we get to preach that “women don’t like sex and men do.”

 

Now, this particular Mexican standoff doesn’t vary, whether in the secular or in the religious realm. The religious community believes that men should dominate and that women should raise the children and take care of the household. In some religions they’re even willing to cut off her sexual organs to make sure she doesn’t forget her mission.

 

In the secular community, the pretense is that women are much smarter, more organized and able to direct, while simultaneously they are relegated to a submissive position where they are basically housewives, even in the office (coffee and comfort), and they’re disemboweled sexually by being forbidden true authority.

 

Here’s my suggestion–let’s do something special on this Valentine’s Day. You don’t have to reject the power of the flower or the thrill of the drill, but you might want to sit down and have a conversation with the person you say you love that begins with this statement:

 

“Honestly… Well, I am not always honest with you, but instead, compliment or ignore you because I foolishly think, because of my training, that I am supposed to dominate you. I would like to stop that and instead, maybe for the first time in our journey together, find out who you are and what you want … and ditto for me.”

 

Now, if I thought the farce of “romantic America” could continue without creating chaos, I would never even bring up the subject. After all, America believes that McDonald’s makes the best hamburger and really, no harm, no “fowl.” But when you think that complimenting or ignoring your love to create domination is the best way to interact with another human being, while internally you find them obtuse or irrelevant, there is a nasty hypocrisy going on that will eventually flare up and decimate your contentment.

 

This is why we often step back and say, “I never thought they would get a divorce.”

 

Just removing domination from a relationship allows for two people to actually begin to talk again. The reason we didn’t like dating is because we had to chat. It is exactly the reason we should return to it.

 

So if you look at Val’s Pals on this day, they are  com through gifts and the action of ignoring expressed by pretending that somehow or another we forgot that it was a special day. It is all an inglorious ploy to create domination. Neither Father nor Mother know best.

 

Actually, we never get the best until Father and Mother learn how to communicate with each other.

 

 

  **************

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.