Cultivating Jesus

Lead, follow, or get the hell out of the way.
Vince Lombardi (among others, it turns out)


The farm is in dire straights these days. I wonder if we'll be able to make it, and if we do fold, when?
Our sorry state can be attributed to many things. We've always been under-capitalized, and have always gotten by on nothing. We've had two years of challenging weather. And I'm beginning to think, more and more, that just as much of it all has to do with my management skills. Perhaps I've blown it. I've thought, for years, that I was steering this ship through rocky waters with consummate skill, but, to mix metaphors, we're perched on the edge of a precipice, one foot on a banana peel and the other in the grave.
And I've come to realize that this is a result of my sorrowfully inadequate interpretation of the message of Jesus.
I was led astray early in life. Misinformed, delusional people spoke to me of things like universal love. I believed them. I tried to be a vessel of the Lord. I meditated and prayed. I did unto others. I welcomed every half-baked crack-pot and basket case who crossed my doorstep and tried to minister to them.
I've been too soft. I've been too accepting and, let's face it, too wimpy. I've accepted anyone who has showed up, and given them a place to stay. I've allowed people to hang while they were dealing with personal problems, or getting their shit back together, or recuperating from some life crisis. I've been welcoming and understanding and compassionate. But no more. I've found Jesus.
You've got to tighten up, Frank, MB, my permanent intern for life, tells me. No more basket cases at Let It Grow, Frank.
She's right. And this will happen no more. I've converted to the charging rhinoceros branch of Christianity, to the people who knew what Jesus was really talking about. People who led Crusades. People who flogged naked savages. People with no tolerance for the weak or the sorry. Self-absorbed, self-righteous people who stomped the shit out of anyone who got in their way. People who, in short, were successful.
The first step, I've decided, is to move the pink flamingoes. They hang out near the shop, or around the bus, or down by the packing shed. They're fun during holidays. They kiss on Valentine's Day. They perch on the flagpole on the Fourth of July. They make an interesting addition to a nativity scene. No more. They'll be moved down to the end of the road, symbolically guarding the gates of the empire from infidels. They've got to earn their keep. From here on in, anyone showing up at the farm without valid business will be attacked, mercilessly, and chased back to the highway.
The next step is to change the farm motto. I'm open to suggestions. Contributions will be accepted on the Comments page. You will not be credited. You will not even be thanked. From now on I take what I can and consider it mine.
Next, I judge everything before me based on its monetary value. Friends included. You exist to make me money or you get dropped from the Christmas card list. You don't get a second chance.
After that, I redefine my relationship with Nature. Something more in line with the true message of Jesus. Nature is not something to live in harmony with. Or live with in harmony. (See. You can't even express that in a grammatically sensible way. I've tried five times. I'm tired of the Backspace button. Jesus didn't Backspace.) Nature is there to serve me. It does what I want it to. It's there to make me money. (See how easy those sentences were? Hemingway could've done it.) Vegetables grow or I plow them over. They do not exist to be loved or cultivated or cared for. They are a commodity. Their value is not expressed in terms of universal unity or cosmic oneness. Love has nothing to with it. The Chicago Mercantile Exchange assigns a dollar value to everything and that will not be questioned.
You may want to stay away from me for a while. I'm feeling zealous, and I'm hungry for converts. No Phillipian nor Corinthian was subjected to the wrath of righteousness and faith and opinions that my friends will be pummeled with in the coming months. I will not tolerate divergent views. Agree with me or die. "Take no heed of what is diverse in manners or laws or institutions." St Augustine said that. And people learned to stay out of his way.