I love reading quotes and when I read this one from a Roman Emperor, I immediately thought of the Sermon on the Mount.
If I am unaware, of what’s floatin’ around in my head, I’ll slog along throughout the day with a frown covering my face. Fact is that there’s no good reason for half the stern grimaces I’ve had. The only reason under the sun would be that my life isn’t exactly as I want it to be at that time & place.
If Anger, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Envy, and of course Pride creeps into my brain, my day dives down in no time. (I don’t have to dream of Sloth)
I would say, for everyone but at least for myself: when a day is started out in prayer, that day is much brighter, and those frowns are turned upside down. I’ll literally remember lines from some prayers when annoyed with someone, and then I tell myself “Ted don’t be a jerk.”
“Don’t be a jerk, Ted,” inner dialogue is inspired by Mother Teresa’s Humility List.
Now, I changed this list a bit, but I doubt she would mind.
MOTHER TERESA’S HUMILITY LIST Dear Lord help me (repeat before each line), This was my addition
Speak as little as possible about myself. Stay busy with my own affairs and not those of others. Avoid curiosity. Not to interfere in the affairs of others. Accept small irritations with good humor. Not to dwell on the faults of others. Accept censures even if unmerited. Give in to the will of others. Accept insults and injuries. Accept contempt, being forgotten and disregarded. Be courteous and delicate even when provoked by someone. Not to seek to be admired and loved. Not protect myself behind my own dignity. Give in, in discussions, even when I’m right. Choose always the more difficult task
If the photo is to distorted for you to recognize the analogy. I’d refer you to Matthew 7: 1-3 or of course Google it.
At work in a grocery store, I discovered myself expecting African-American customers to always want plastic bags. I mentally noted each and everytime, they asked for their gallons of milk, ice tea, water, etc., to be doubled bagged despite all of those items having handles. I assumed that they didn’t care about the environment. Admittedly, I was wrong, and quite often speak like a “good ole boy”.
I would wager that this applies to sexual orientation also. However I’ve never asked plastic bag customers if they were a member of the LGBT community.
I always believed that people will fight change, and much of the U.S. culture was built on the backs of black slaves. I would argue that the racism of today has been culturally embedded from slavery to segregation and Jim Crow laws, to fighting for civil rights and on up to racist and brutal police tactics, resulting in George Floyds murder. The vast majority of signers of The Declaration of Independence owned slaves.
However later in life, I discovered a huge number of African-Americans are racist towards Caucasians. From some black gals I dated, I learned many black folks expect white people to be along the lines of a racist Klans-men.
Anyway, the earliest example of both races being raciest that I experienced came when I worked at a light industrial factory. I was chatting with an African-American co-worker. I simply mentioned something about my black ex-girlfriend. His wide eyes and broad, open mouth effectively communicated disbelief and wonderment.
Then with a shake of his head, he softly asked, “Why?”
“Well, she looked like a minature Whitney Houston,” I said with a shrug.
“Oh, well then it’s okay.”
He nailed racism and sexism in one blow.
[On aside: when it comes to women, I didn’t care about race. I’ve dated Caucasians, African-Americans, Hispanics, Middle Easterns, and almost an Asian. Believe me I was one equal opportunity fucker. I am/was no Saint. I didn’t hide my main interest. I always knew I was sexist. In another post, I’ll detail this element of my personality. I’m completely celibate today, although it’s still tempting]
Now I never thought of myself as being racist, but working at a grocery store cured this myth. In mid-Missouri, I realized that mentally I expected certain responses from certain types of people.
We still use plastic bags, and I don’t care for it. I ride a bike to work and use a back pack to cart my groceries home.
This slowly changed when a customer said three gallons were easier to carry on the bus when they are in bags. This had nothing to do with the environment. It further changed when I realized that in fact I expected younger Caucasian customers of the same products, not to want them in plastic bags. I expected them to worry about the state of the environment. My attitude further changed in regards to the plastic bags. They get plastic just like any other group. Finally I discovered that I needed to take plastic bags because they work well with used kitty litter. I need them, like a garbage bag.
Today, slavery, obviously, is no longer legal and civil rights are a recognized need. The U.S. culture has come a long way from 1776, but there still needs more to be done. Both races I believe have changed. The first major step for improvement, I’d argue is looking into yourself before judging anyone else and asking yourself how you can make sure you treat everyone respectfully and equally. Of course, expecting African-Americans to want their milk in plastic bags does not put me on an even plane with Derek Chauvin, the police officer who killed George Floyd.
Racism is only one form of being judgemental. Judging someone based on sex, orientation, political leanings, wealth, mental health, disabilities, or whatever is just apt to be wrong. Here again, I now ask myself why I believe something about someone, who I don’t even know.
Quite often, I enjoy praying while staring at the rising, morning sun & pray for this grace.
The strength of a seed and fertility of soil can force God’s word out to the public.
My soil has been like a paved street. It’s also been rocky and then riddled with thorny weeds. However on occasion, I’ve been a soil that’s so good to produce organic food. I’m referring to the parable of the sower of the seeds, and how some seed (messages, news, instructions), from the sower (Jesus) were received by different people.
This parable is found on Matthew 13: 1 – 23, which was the Gospel reading at my church’s service this weekend. The fact that I had been all soils really bothered me.
Being mentally ill, I’ve been all of them and at the end of my life, I would not be surprised to learn that I have been, all in one day. Being bipolar, I can go from being a wannabe saint to a know it all, screaming, sinner in a second. This concept plagued my mind as the church service continued. At points in my life, I tried my best to live a good life, while at others, my only concern was for myself.
Now, I’m Catholic, and the priest’s homily/sermon was all about the different types of people represented by the soil. The online Catholic reflection site I use said virtually the same thing.
I kept looking because I knew I had been like a path or road, where I was easily picked away by sinful temptations. I also had surged up with zealful aspirations in rocky terrain only to quickly quit when troubles arose. Then grew up and gave up when I lacked the support and dislike from close confidents (aka weedy thorns)
Then late at night I found my answer on different websites. Why would the sower or Jesus spread his seed or message to the soil or people who he knew would reject it, like the first century streets? Also, why did Jesus hang out with prostitutes & tax collectors?
I remembered what I did right before church. I went to confession. For me, confession is like seeing a spiritual shrink. This time, it reminded me that people, including myself, can change.
I wrote this months ago. It just reminds me that God doesn’t give up on me because of my past, so I cannot give up trusting God.
Personally, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Jesus used this parable to essentially warn his apostles, disciples, and general followers what to expect once he was gone. and when they took up preaching after him.
T Circled 