Jesonian: Reverend Meningsbee (Part 18) It’s Not Good For A Man To Be… August 28th, 2016

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Alone.

More than lonely.

The frightening realization of having no one.

Unable to get the personal attention of another human being.

Meningsbee had settled in for his afternoon time of reflection, which usually started with pulling up some news stories on the Internet and reading some articles to sharpen his insight.

But there was a dark side to this ritual. Ever since he had lost his wife, Doris, the lack of intimacy had driven him to a nagging temptation to peruse pornography.

He hated the word.

When he pastored back East, he often counseled people who were completely obsessed with the practice.

He knew all the right answers but the loneliness overtook him–the sense of abandonment caused by losing his love.

For you see, Doris died as she had lived–suddenly.

She had an infectious spirit with a childlike quality that manifested itself in the belief that her whim was the same as God’s will. If bananas were on sale at the grocery store, Doris believed it was ordained to make banana splits.

Although Richard was a bit put off by the theology, he benefitted from the glow of her enthusiasm.

She loved him. She loved him all the way. If she was dissatisfied, Richard never knew it.

She laughed more than she cried; she planned more than she complained, and in the bedroom, she had the steaminess of the Queen of Sheba mingled with the mercy of an angel.

She granted Meningsbee the role of Midas. Everything he touched she called gold.

He never had a chance to doubt himself–until one morning, she sat straight up in bed and said, “My head hurts.”

They were her last words. She crumpled to the side, the victim of a simultaneous massive stroke and heart attack.

No history of disease, just a demise.

So now Richard was without his Doris, yet still needing the comfort and consistency of a gentle love.

He was repulsed by the images he saw on his screen. He was only interested in “peek-a-boo porn”–in other words, pictures of beautiful women yearning to be loved. But every time he pulled up an innocent profile, his inbox was inundated with popups of violent rape and sexual mayhem.

Strangely, he both hated and pitied himself at the same time–hated because he knew he was wrong, but pitied because he was forced into the wrong by an evil twist of fate.

He was more than ashamed.

He was intellectually disgusted by his choice.

He was spiritually bewildered by his weakness.

And he was mentally dissatisfied with the antidote provided to him via the Web.

So at the end of each one of his afternoon sessions, he scrubbed his browser and walked away from his computer feeling a little more decayed each time.

What right did he have to preach the Gospel when such desperation tormented his soul?

Meningsbee was in the midst of a fresh burst of incrimination when there was a knock at the door. He was startled.

He quickly made sure there was no evidence of his iniquity, and went to see who it was.

Matrisse.

He was so glad to see her.

She was like a supernal presence drawing him back into what he wanted his reality to be.

“I need to talk to you about Sassy,” she said solemnly. Meningsbee nodded his head and invited her in.

Once again, Matrisse was the needful distraction to draw him away from his own foolishness.

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Dear Man/Dear Woman: A Noteworthy Conversation … February 27th, 2016

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Dear Man: What do you want from me?

 

Dear Woman: Well, I guess, everything.

 

Dear Man: Everything?

 

Dear Woman: Was that the wrong answer? Because if I said “nothing,” it wouldn’t sound very good.

 

Dear Man: I’m not trying to trick you. I’ve just been thinking about it a lot. I’ve come up with this idea of the “Flirty Thirty.”

 

Dear Woman: I’m listening…

 

Dear Man: I think as men and women what we really want from each other–30 percent of what we’re trying to acquire–is simply the knowledge that we’re attractive.

 

Dear Woman: I can see where that would be important.

 

Dear Man: And I don’t think it’s just man to woman. I think it’s also man to man and woman to woman. As human beings, we need to believe that we are viable to the tribe. Sexual.

 

Dear Womn: I think I’m getting your point. But do you think it’s possible to be considered sexual without trying to take it to the next stage, of having sex?

 

Dear Man: I not only think so, I believe we need to teach people that flirting and granting others the blessing of knowing that they’re part of the race, and they’re not a bunch of trolls or tree stumps, is necessary to their self-worth, without communicating that every boost of confidence is making a pass at someone.

 

Dear Woman: I think women do that to men by expressing admiration and respect.

 

Dear Man: I think it’s the same thing for women. Women want to be admired and respected.

 

Dear Woman: So what happens if the “Flirty Thirty” is misinterpreted, and you get other people jealous or it leads to a bunch of affairs?

 

Dear Man: Well, it does. That’s the problem. Because we’ve declared a war between the genders, we have begun to believe that the only thing that unites us is a mutual interest in sex. So we try to live on 30 percent of a relationship, which causes more romantic collisions than true encounters of mutual understanding.

 

Dear Woman: So what you’re saying is that if you flirt with me, you’re not saying you want to go to bed, you’re granting me the gift of knowing that you don’t find me repulsive, and you’re fully aware that somebody might want to go to bed with me?

 

Dear Man: Yeah, that’s kind of it. And the reason I say that men do it to men is because we have this phrase, “he’s a man’s man”–which really means that men think he’s so manly that they’re sure women would want him.

 

Dear Woman: And with women to women, it’s the imitation one woman has of another woman’s approach, which flatters her sexuality.

 

Dear Man: Yeah, I think so.

 

Dear Woman: So why don’t people talk about the Flirty Thirty?

 

Dear Man: Because they either put too much emphasis on sex or they approach it too casually, instead of realizing that the value of our sexuality is to become better humans.

 

Dear Woman: So what you’re saying is, if I don’t think I’m sexy, I may not have the oom-pah to give a damn about much of anything else.

 

Dear Man: Yeah. It may sound shallow, but it’s true. I need to feel attractive to attract, so that I can discover the real attractions of life.

 

Dear Woman: That was nicely said. So we’ve got the Flirty Thirty–what about the other 70 percent?

 

Dear Man: That’s enough for now, cutie.

 

Dear Woman: Cutie? You know, you’re right. It works.

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Five Rules of Fools… October 3, 2013

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1. Be yourself.

Please don’t. Just imagine what would happen if eight billion ants went off in different directions to express themselves instead of contributing to the common  hill. In no time at all, ants would be extinct. The real truth is, find your talent, multiply it in a direction that assists the needs of humanity and you will always have work, friends, prosperity and opportunity.

2. We are exceptional.

Spitting defiantly into the wind is one of the best ways to end up with your efforts thrown back into your face. Some of the first words ever spoken by God in the Good Book to a human being were offered to a future murderer named Cain. God’s counsel was simple: “If you do well, won’t you be accepted?”

Claiming that we are exceptional does not make us excellent. It astounds me that those who insist they are spiritual do not believe in evolution, and those who adhere to evolution often negate the spiritual. Evolution and spirituality are the same. The “survival of the fittest,” presented by Darwin, is an identical concept to “what you sow is what you reap.”

So you can continue to insist that “God loves you no matter what,” or you can take the scientific approach and believe that everything in the universe is biochemical, or you can blend the two and realize that we are not exceptional until we do exceptional things.

3. Stand up for yourself.

You can do that, but be prepared to be knocked down. If we live in a world where everybody stands up for themselves, the entire planet will square off twenty-four hours a day, with the potential for “wars and rumors of wars” causing our hearts to fail for fear. Somebody has to stand down, to buy precious time for insight to arrive with a fresh shipment.

4. Pornography is art.

We used to believe that pornography was the exploitation of women, and often men. But somewhere along the line, about twenty years ago, when the young actors on the TV Show, Friends, began joking around about “porn,” it became an acceptable practice and is now viewed by some as an art form. Pornography is not art. It takes women and puts them in the most demeaning positions of false submission so as to get off a bunch of misfits who are incapable of maintaining real relationships which require faithfulness and sexual commitment.

5. Men and women are adversaries.

There’s an old saying, which is still true: “You shouldn’t crap where you eat.”  If your primary relationship with another person is a source of giggling love, romantic pleasure, financial security and family warmth, it might be a good idea to avoid stirring the pot by making that other person feel less than you. It is rather doubtful that we can continue as a race if fifty percent of us are fighting the other fifty percent in a condescending way.

I do not know if there are unique emotional differences between men and women. Much of it is certainly cultural. But I do know that if we spotlight those differences, we will eventually find the process of mating and settling into a lifestyle together extraordinarily unpleasant, nasty and maybe eventually even avoidable.

There you go–five rules of fools, which cause everything from divorce to government shut-down.

You can pursue them, but be prepared to end up in the camp of those who demand attention instead of those who command it.

 

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Du Quoin in a Fountain … June 12, 2013

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Burned.

Burned out.

I once was beckoned to a burn ward in a hospital to see a young man who needed prayer because he had been scorched severely in a fire. I had never experienced such devastation. There were five youngsters on the floor, all injured beyond human recognition. The parents, when they heard there was someone on the floor willing to pray, beckoned me to the bedside of their child. The grotesque features, the pain, the anguish and the doom that hung in the air was almost incomprehensible and nearly unbearable.

I felt no need to be glib. The poetry of prayer escaped me. My tears became the ointment of hope–that these children might have a chance. Each one had lost a battle with fire.

But my dear friends, every time I walk on a stage and look into the faces of the audience, I see the same anguish. The American public is burned. We are burned by the fires of a raging debate that seems to have no end, which slices its way through our society, minus resolution. We are burned by viciousness, racism and religious bigotry, touting that “our God is bigger than your God.”

We are scorched by political rhetoric rattling on with meaningless statistics, promoting its unending agenda with no regard for the immediate needs of humanity.

So because our nation is burned,  we must be careful not to use fiery words to ignite great ideas.

• We need to stop preaching. It’s too pushy. Even teaching can be condescending.
• We are incapable of debate without division.
• We seem to be unable to talk about God and promote His love more than His judgment.
• We take the beauty of man and woman–the sexual pleasure they can achieve together and the companionship manifested–and turn it into a running joke on how the sexes are incapable of communication.
• We set ideals, our goals and our lives on fire with a series of ridiculous arguments which never promote inner peace and are only set ablaze to initiate our superiority.

I am coming into a burn ward and it is my nation. It seems to be up to me to bring the salves and the pain killers necessary to promote healing instead of continuing to do more damage to the flesh, blood, spirits and hearts of my fellow-citizens. But you see, once you’ve been burned, the last thing you want is to be touched. Your life is a living nightmare–a reminder of the horrible incident that has disfigured you.

It’s going to take patience, gentleness and reasonability to actually bring about a ministering force to our people. It is not an issue of marching, protesting, fussing, arguing or even lobbying. It’s finding the next person who’s been burned by the fires of a national indignation–and to sooth the wounds.

I’ve inserted a picture of a field which has already been harvested and now the remaining stems merely dry out in the sun. I was drawn to the scene because it reminds me so much of our country. We have harvested a great bounty of freedom and progress, but now the dried stems stick out of the ground and no one has the mercy to plow them under and prepare new seed for the earth–gently, please. But we must take all the dead stalks which are protruding from the ground and inter them in the earth, making room for new seed and a new crop of possibility.

The other picture is of my set, which I used as  a healing station last night with the folks in Sunfield, near Du Quoin, Illinois.

It’s what I’ve got. It’s small and to some may seem insignificant. But from that tiny operating room, I plan on promoting healing. Gone are the fiery sermons, replaced with the water of the Word, dousing all the heated rage.

It’s the least we can do.

By the way, I found out later that three of the five young people in that burn ward died.  It hurt me deep in my soul. But it also let me know that it’s important to keep the fire away from human beings if you can bring the water.

I will bring the water again to the folks in Sunfield this evening. I can only hope that those who’ve been burned by the inferno of a careless society misusing its book of matches will come out … to be soothed.

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Sleepy Adam … July 25, 2012

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If you mention the creation story from the book of Genesis, you always get an interesting traffic jam of reactions.

There are those who believe that God literally created the world in six twenty-four hour periods and that our planet is no more than sixty-five hundred years old. Others are a bit more careful in their proclamations, adhering to the process listed in the book of Genesis, but allowing for more time to have elapsed between creative bursts. Then, some contend that the creation story and Eden are mere metaphor of processes which actually occurred more “chemically” than “supernaturally.”  These folks still hold tiny ropes in their hands, still believing that the whole thing was instituted by a divine presence. And of course, there are disbelievers, who pooh-pooh the whole passage, debunking it with relish, and in so doing, establish their superiority to fairy tales and imaginary friends.

Having presented these categories of thought, I will now tell you — I don’t care.

I read the creation story the same way I read the whole Bible–in relationship to what I am experiencing and understand as a human being on a planet that is still reasonably functional. I neither deter from divine inspiration, nor do I defend it like some aging soldier who just won’t let the war die. What I find interesting is the use of certain language when explaining the procedure.

One of these phrases is “the creation of man.” I think it’s rather interesting that the Bible leads us to believe that God may have intended to create just a male part of the human race, who would have lived forever as more or less a permanent, masculine caretaking force for the earth. But as the story goes, He discovered that people are not good when they’re by themselves. So He decided to create woman. What is fascinating to me is that God, according to the tale, put Adam in a deep sleep, in order to gain parts of his innards–kind of like an anesthesiologist.

Perhaps this was a mistake. (It may have given men future permission to doze off while women are sharing their feelings and new ideas.) Adam might have benefitted greatly by being given a local anesthetic and being fully alert as he watched how God put together the body, spirit and emotions of the feminine of our species.  For after all, somebody has to step in and stop men from being sleepy and women from being allowed to reluctantly run the world while receiving less salary for the project. There are eight things about men and women that are true (well, at least I think so):

The first one is that we are competitors. There are twelve years after our birth where nose-to-nose, men and women are equal. Matter of fact, women sometimes run faster, grow taller and mature more quickly than the male of the species. We should be using this time in our schools to teach compatibility, respect, understanding and empathy between the sexes. I call this the “Let’s Run” phase. Matter of fact, in a good, healthy relationship, a man and woman will always have a decent amount of competition.

From there it moves on to a sexual partnership. Yes, God placed within the spectrum of the experience of both sexes a potential for pleasure to go along with the competition. There are just enough parts that are different to keep the game interesting. I refer to this as the “Let’s Play” part of the experience.

But it doesn’t stop there. Life is not all about sexual conquest. You meet one you like, you get together and basically, you become business associates. You start your own little corporation. I like to dub this particular station “Let’s Work” Once again, if you’ve had twelve initial years of learning to respect and have been granted a sexual interest between each other, then you should be prepared to be mutually involved in a great effort to make money and build a lovely little kingdom for yourselves.

Time marches on and the miracle of procreation brings about children and suddenly–you’re a parenting team! The natural name for this particular juncture is “Let’s Learn.” (By the way, just for the record, there’s no such think as a naturally born mother OR father. We all do it poorly until we do it better and still get to the end and wonder if we’ve crapped out. It’s so reassuring to have another person with you to share the blame.)

The kids grow up and you’re back to being together as a team and you suddenly realize that you’re getting older and you need a health advisor. Yes, it’s nice to have somebody else monitor your cholesterol. It’s wonderful to have someone around who understands your weaknesses without thinking you’ve become weak. Can I call this passage “Let’s Think?” Because as your body begins to lose some of its pizzazz, it’s nice to know that your brain can fill in some of the gaps.

All this time, you still haven’t lost the competition. That special someone is a sexual partner (even though it may be considerably less frequent). Of course, you are still business associates because the checkbook still requires balancing. Parenting team comes into play because the offspring may threaten to return. and most of all, you have the wonderful blessing of having a constant dinner companion–because there’s no power in living a life of “Let’s Think” if you don’t have a person sitting across from you stimulating “Let’s Talk.”

Time presses on and those two eyes in your head begin to dim a bit and it’s nice to have another set around. Yes, four eyes can often decipher what two fail to see. Another set of eyes. “Let’s See” life together–even as we get older.

And finally, the reason I think Adam should NOT have been put to sleep but instead, should have had full exposure to how his mate was created, is that one of the most reassuring parts of being linked with another person is that you know  when you pass on there will be one mourner, “Let’s Remember.” Isn’t that nice? Even if the rest of the world fails to consider your journey, there will be one person who will always sense your absence.

It’s the miracle of man and woman.

• Let’s Run
• Let’s Play
• Let’s Work
• Let’s Learn
• Let’s Think
• Let’s Talk
• Let’s See
• And Let’s Remember

If you can resolve the difficulty tha seems to linger in our society as we promote the struggle between men and women, you are more than halfway to unlocking all the secrets of the universe. I believe if God had it to do over again, he would not want a “Sleepy Adam,” but instead, an alert man who understood what was being created in front of him, and prepared to have a competitor, a sexual partner, a business associate, a parenting teammate, a health advisor, a dinner companion, another set of eyes and ultimately … a mourner.

It was a perfect plan–perhaps imperfectly executed. That’s plausible, right? But if we can get all of our “Sleepy Adams” to be more sensitive to our Emerging Eves, we will certainly have a healthier Eden. At least that’s my opinion.

And opinions are where we desperately need to have that other person … who’s willing to listen.

   

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