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Radio Host:         “So today on our morning show, we have the great pleasure of speaking with Connor Hope, head football coach of the Saint Michael’s Spartans.   I am especially honored since I played middle linebacker and special teams on the 2005 state championship squad. “Welcome coach, I’ve really been looking forward to having this sit down.   This sort of marks your fifth annual visit to the station to share your thoughts of the previous season.”   Coach Hope:       “Always glad to sit down with you Jon and discuss insights about the past season and those in the future.”   Radio Host:        “So first off, disappointed with the season’s final outcome?”   Coach Hope:      “We won eight games, schedule was tough, had a few key injuries.   This was a fabulous team.   Five or six of the seniors will be playing division two or three ball in college.   I’m proud of the effort made in every game, regardless of the final outcome.”   Radio Host:        “If I’m correct in my history co

Mourning fills this heart when hatred rears a head of ugliness. What race is not vulnerable to those who see only color?   Which pigment is purity, which is evil? We are the same in muscle, blood and bone. Blended hues on a tapestry of love.   Mourning is a new way of life. The vile taste of every word spoken with weapons of hatred.   My color is your color, red, blue, black white or brown.   His color is our color, and with His head bowed from the cross He mourns for a broken world.   copyright 2021 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

James Tissot -  The Sermon of the Beatitudes (La sermon des béatitudes) , 1886-1896 Peacemakers, we long for you this day. You who were anointed as children of God.   Wars rage, hatred and persecution absorbs the land. I hear you speaking to defend one side or the other, but not peace.   Peacemakers, we search endlessly and find only violence. We hear words calling as sin the color of our flesh or the language of our tongues.   There are prayers without action, songs without words and too many wars without peace.   Where are we? Were we there at the mount, listening when our names were spoken? Did we understand that in order to be ordained as His children, we must lay down our differences and embrace our enemy. copyright 2018 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author From the Collection;  The Sermon

Do you mold God to fit your world, your life, your culture? Do you shape His words to be spoken as you wish to hear? Do you see Him as an image fabricated on canvas, or choreographed by an actor pretending? Do you see a feeding trough and wonder if the saliva of animals smeared the wood before embracing a newborn, or do you simply celebrate a gift without knowing from whence it came? Do you see a mount where a prophet may have stood, speaking words heard by those with ears to hear? Do you see a basket of fish and bread and see a miracle, or do you laugh at a fable told by the simple? Do you see the cross, the tomb, the stone that has been rolled away? Do you listen to Mary as she describes an angel, or was it the rabbi, crucified, announcing life, not death? Do you mold God to fit your world? Do you consider Eden and say it is just a story, or a parable, prepared in the next breath to say the same about the resurrection? copyright 2024 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/

The Sermon on the Mount 1873 - Woodcut - Author Unknown Have you not listened? You seemed to have turned away. You look at wars and long for peace. Your news media divides you, regardless of what you believe. Those who speak for you, speak only for themselves. Some hunger for bread when there is plenty. Some wish for comfort, when they have a pillow. Some long for Camelot, but that was long ago. Have you not listened? Your culture claims to have no need of ears. You seek sameness when you are made with uniqueness. You seek a moral high ground you cannot bear. You embrace twisted ideologies that thrive in no garden. Money is your god. Power is your love. Pride is your death. From Eden to the Temple, from the manger to the cross, sonnets of the truth are spoken. Have you listened?  Have you not listened, without twisting what you hear? You seem to have dug your graves in sand. Wars will always be, for not all children seek peace. Division stands in its strength, as long as you are its st