Dear Children (and believe me, that’s all of you.)

            I consider myself a pretty patient Guy.  I mean, look at the Grand Canyon.  It took millions of years to get it right.  And how about evolution?  Boy, nothing is slower than designing that whole Darwinian thing to take place, cell by cell and gene by gene.  I’ve even been patient through your fashions, civilizations, wars and schemes, and the countless ways you take Me for granted until you get yourselves into big trouble.

             But on this occasion of My Son’s birthday, I want to let you know about some things that are starting to tick me off. 

            First of all, your religious rivalries are driving Me up the wall.  Enough already!  Let’s get one thing straight:  These are your religions, not Mine.  I’m the Whole Enchilada; I’m beyond them all.  Everyone of your religious claims there’s only one of Me (which by the way, is absolutely true).  But in the very next breath, each religion claims it’s My favorite one.  And each claims it’s bible was written personally by me, and that all the other bibles are man made.  Oh, Me.  How do I even begin to put a stop to such complicated nonsense? 

            Okay, listen up now:  I’m your Father and Mother, and I don’t play favorites among My Children.  Also, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t write.  My longhand is awful, and I’ve always been more of a “doer” anyway.  So all of your books, including the bibles, were written by men and women.  They were inspired, remarkable people, but they also made mistakes here and there.  I made sure of that, so that you would never trust a written word more that your own living Heart. 

            You see, one Human Being to me—even a Bum on the street—is worth more than all the holy books in the world.  That’s just the kind of Guy I Am.  My Spirit is not a historical thing, It’s alive right here, right now, as fresh as your next breath. 

            The thing is, I want you to stop thinking of religion as some sort of loyalty pledge of Me.  The true purpose of your religions is so that you can become more aware of Me, not the other way around.  Believe me, I know you already.  I know what’s in each of your hearts, and I love you with no strings attached.  So lighten up and enjoy Me.  That’s what religion is best for. 

            What you seem to forget is how mysterious I am.  You look at the petty little differences in your scriptures and say, “Well, if this is the Truth, than that can’t be!”  But instead of trying to figure out My Paradoxes and Unfathomable Nature—which by the way you never will, why not open your hearts to the simple common threads in every religion? 

            You know what I’m talking about:  Love and respect for everyone.  Be kind.  Even when life is scary or confusing, take courage and be of good cheer, for I am always with you.  Learn to be quiet, so you can hear My Still, Small Voice (I don’t like to shout).  Leave the world a better place by living your life with dignity and gracefulness for you are My Own Child.  Hold back nothing from life, for the parts of you that will die will surely die, and the parts that can’t, won’t.  So don’t worry, be happy (I stole that from Bobby McFerrin, but who do you think gave it to him in the first place?)

             Simple stuff. Why do you keep making it so complicated?  It’s like you’re always looking for an excuse to be upset.  And I’m very tired of being your main excuse.  Do you think I care whether you call me Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, Wakanonka, Brahma, Father, Mother, or even The Void or Nirvana?  Do you think I care which of My Special Children you feel closest to, Jesus, Mary, Buddha, Krishna, Mohammed or and of the others?  You can call Me and My Special Ones any name you choose, if only you would go about My business of loving one another as I love you.  How can you keep neglecting anything so simple?

             But My Special Children—the ones your religions revolve around—all live in the same place (My Heart) and they get along perfectly, I assure you.  The clergy must stop creating a myth of sibling rivalry where there is none.

 My Blessed Children of Earth, the world has grown too small for your pervasive religious bigotries and confusion.  The whole planet is connected by air travel, satellite dishes, telephones, fax machines, rock concerts, diseases, and mutual needs and concerns.  Get with the program!  If you really want to help Me celebrate the birthday of My Son Jesus, then commit yourselves to figuring out how to feed your hungry, clothe your naked, protect your abused, have compassion for those who hurt others because they were once hurt themselves, raise your children with love and guidance instead of hate and punishment, and shelter your poor and those unable to care for themselves.  And just as importantly, make your own everyday life a shining example of kindness, compassion and good humor.  I’ve given you all the resources you need, if only you abandon your fear of each other and begin living, loving, and laughing together.

Finally, My Children everywhere, remember whose birth is honored on December 25^th, and the fearlessness with which He chose to live and die.  (By the way, he didn’t really die.  His death on the cross was meant to show that there is no death.)  As I love Him, so do I love each one of you.  I’m not really ticked off, I just wanted to grab your attention because I hate to see you suffer.  But I gave you Free Will, so what can I do now other than to try to influence you through reason, persuasion, and a little old-fashioned guilt and manipulation?  After all, I Am the original Jewish Mother.

 Your One and Only,

GOD