Jonathots Daily Blog
(4246)
When God is touted by the fool
We quickly lose the Golden Rule
BAD
Yellin’ grandmas and spittin’ grandpas.
This week I stood back in awe over people my age and much older who have relinquished their gravitas and dignity in pursuit of appearing to be common street brawlers.
Yes, elected humans who would never think of being volatile in front of their grandkids for fear of passing on a horrible impression decided to throw fits on national television under the guise of being “tough.”
It is fascinating to me that at no time in my growing up years did any teacher, principal, minister or counselor suggest that the solution for dealing with a bully was to imitate his or her practices.
We need grandmas and grandpas out there who can calm the seas instead of stirring the waters.
Shame on our politicians and national leaders for thinking they convey strength by being abusive or rude.
I am looking for individuals who will stop yelling, take the power of good cheer, and in a clever way make their biting points … without using teeth.
SAD
When you move the stopping place, we no longer know where to cease.
In every argument there is a juncture where words are no longer communicating. Instead, insults and even fists offer their forceful alternative.
In a civilized society, we are responsible to stop and walk away before our physical bodies try to solve emotional problems. Over the past twenty years, we have lost the ability to identify the stopping place.
Do we continue to discuss? Or has the discussion become a prideful rant?
Do we object? Or might we depart until another day?
Do we impeach the President? Or do we simply replace him?
We’ve lost our stopping place.
It is sad that we refuse to comprehend that in losing our stopping place, we also have lost our power.
MAD
This is what makes me mad. It isn’t reality. I can handle the truth, even when it’s not to my liking.
Let me make this clear:
There is no such thing as an innocent “Islam” or a merely zealous “Zionist.”
There isn’t a “concerned” condemning Christian.
Or a well-meaning bumbling Buddhist.
And it isn’t open-minded to tolerate a hapless Hindi.
Any religion which has a leader who promotes his own tribe is worthless.
This is true of both Islam and Judaism.
Any religion that allows for segregation, gossip and Crusades cannot be given a free pass, as we have granted Christianity.
Buddhists who insist that the path to Nirvana is through quelling one’s emotions certainly don’t know humanity.
And for the record, considering Hinduism—nobody’s coming back as a cow.
As long as we allow religions to propagate myths, foolishness, prejudice, anger, segregation and anti-human philosophies, we will be at the mercy of their superstition.
Ragtag religion is hurting us. It’s time for us to look at all religions and make one simple demand:
Come back when you have something to help the human race. Stop complicating the hell out of our lives.
GLAD
I am glad, joyful, impressed and overwhelmed with Charles Wesley.
You might not know who he is.
He didn’t kill, steal and destroy, so the history books don’t contain a lot about his life.
He is a man who, along with his brother, John, led a revival of great social and spiritual significance in England.
He wrote 6,500 hymns.
Now, I consider myself to be a composer. I have quite a catalogue. But even in my more “braggart modes,” I would claim three or four hundred musical compositions.
6,500 is not only super-dedicated, but supernatural.
This week I was glad for Charles Wesley. Because as I sat in my living room, staring at my beautiful Christmas tree, from my radio, a choir sang, “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.”
The music is by Felix Mendelssohn, but the lyrics are from Charles Wesley.
When I heard the last verse, the words swept over my soul and nearly took my breath away, leaving me like the saved, lost man I truly am.
Hail the son of righteousness
Light and life to all he brings
Risen with healing in his wings
Mild he lays his glory by
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of Earth
Born to give them second birth.
Yes, I cried.
I wept over the concept of having a Savior come to me, a son of Earth.
And I especially thanked Charles Wesley for confirming that Jesus came to give me second birth.
Jonathots Daily Blog 
