OMGabe

by Gabe Berman – the author of Live Like a Fruit Fly

Archive for the tag “Jesus”

A Serious Letter To Christian Republicans

Dear Christian Republicans,

If Jesus Christ appeared before you now, would you follow him?

Please, look into your heart.

If the son of God pleaded with you to be by his side, would you?

Would you surrender your ideas of American exceptionalism to walk the path with him?
(“Give to Caeser what is Caeser’s; and to God what is God’s.”)

If the Lord actually appeared before you now, would you sell your possessions and give them to the poor as he asked? (“Go and sell your possessions and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”)

Or would you deny him?

Consider this instead:

Jesus doesn’t materialize in the present moment.

Instead, he’s there at your death.

At the exact moment your life ends, you find yourself kneeling before your savior.

And Jesus, the champion of the poor, puts his hand on your head and asks, “My child, setting aside your earthly allegiances, have you ever helped a wealthy man take advantage of a disadvantaged man?”

“For how would a man benefit to gain the whole world but destroy his soul or lose it?”

Christian Republicans, would you turn your back on God?

Have you already?

Only you and God can know.

love/thanks,
gabe

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What The Fuck Is Everyone Freaking About?

What’s the big shock over recent news?

The United States of America was born in the butchering of Native American Indians.

The United States of America profited on the whipped, bloody backs of millions of enslaved Africans.

And 61,900,651 voted for Donald Trump.

The only people we should be pointing fingers at, are ourselves.

As my dad used to say, “We have met the enemy, and it is us.”

– gb

www.WinTheWarWithYourMind.com

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Fake Christians

Have you seen this goddamn bumper sticker?

Cross equals heart.

How many of these people broadcasting this on their cars do you think are Republican?

Because I have a bit of news for you.

I hope you’re sitting down.

Ready?

You can’t, no matter how you try to explain yourself, vote for people who vote to strip healthcare from millions of people in order to give tax cuts to the ultra wealthy, and call yourself a Christian.

Actually, you can call yourself whatever the fuck you want, but you surely aren’t a follower of Jesus.

You are, in fact, the exact antithesis of it.

How dare you?

Really, how dare you?

It’s sickening.

I am sickened by your hypocrisy and your greed and your hate.

Sickened.

But, you literally don’t know what you do. You literally can’t control it.

Until you can.

So, I just sit here, in gratefulness, for the fact that I automatically love my neighbor as if he/she is me. And I’m also so grateful that, for the most part, the people reading this right this second are orchestrated similarly.

“No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. YOU CANNOT SERVE BOTH GOD AND MONEY”

– gb

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Trump Is Pinnochio

I was totally a self-hating Jew last night.

Actually, a Jew hating Jew.

There was a table full of pro Trump, 40-something, wealthy looking Israeli women at Starbucks.

And me being me, I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

I’ll spare you the predictable details but I bowed out of the conversation after two pseudo intellectual, yarmulke wearing, wannabe tough-guys in their early twenties stood up to assist the tragically uninformed, cosmically ignorant women.

Trying to sound smart about Trump just made them sound ridiculously stupid so it wasn’t like we reached a stalemate or anything. I just knew it was time to go when one of the guys got a bit too close and self defense would have been justified.

And now let me say this: I truly don’t give a fuck about these people.

They, along with their friends and families, could blink out of existence right this moment and I’d still care infinitely more about the puppies at the Humane Society.

I have no need to win arguments with them or with anyone else.

It’s just that their racist, greedy, anti-progressive allegiances hurt those who can’t afford to be hurt. And I just can’t have that. Genetically and soulfully, it doesn’t resonate with me.

But now let me back up a bit.

I know it’s not their fault. They were bred to be this way – dumbed down, opinionated and wealthy. A terrifying trifecta. The plague of humanity.

And I know it’s barely a Jewish issue. For the most part, us Heebs care about others (not just ourselves) and obviously, stupidity runs rampant in all creeds (Apollo) and kinds.

And, just like it’s not their fault, it’s not mine either. In the moment, I have no choice but to stand up to injustice. It’s hardwired into guts. My double helix hates oppression and I’ve been known to threaten violence over it.

So, what’s the point of this post?

It seems as though we’re marionettes with the universe pulling the strings.

Maybe we’re all playing our parts perfectly in an elaborate puppet show.

In other words, we have no control over anything.

And if that’s the case, and you add up all of my failures and anxieties, I’m still so supremely grateful to be me.

Because this puppet writing to you now, well, he’s all heart. And he doesn’t fetishize over money or guns or winning at the expense of others. This puppet is well aware that we’re all intricately connected to the puppeteer and loves all of life as he loves himself.

Because just as easily, I could have been the awful Donald Trump or even worse, one of his minions.

Therefore, in this moment, I have nothing but gratefulness.

love/thanks,
gabe

“Vote Republican,” said Jesus Never – The Right Isn’t Right

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Jesus Picks His Nose

God wanted me to cram two egg and cheese bagels down my gullet this morning.

How do I know the divine’s hand intervened in my breakfast?

Because I ordered one bagel with two eggs and cheese from Dunkin’ Donuts and they handed me two bagels with eggs and cheese instead.

So, of course, I ate them both.

I mean, who am I to get in The Lord’s way?

Or, maybe, it was a test. To see if I’d actually exercise willpower in this situation and abstain from the second engulfing.

But I don’t think so.

Although, there’s really no way to be sure.

Maybe we’re not actually choosing between our choices. And if that’s the case, it would be more accurate to say that “we’re” not actually choosing between “our” choices.

Because what mystics and masters have been saying for thousands of years is now being proven by quantum physics: there’s only one of us.

Everything is one.

The seemingly separateness of the universe is an elaborate illusion.

With that out of the way, I happen to be at a Dunkin’ because one phone call lead to another, which lead me (or “me”) to walking into an auto mechanic shop which lead me to another. And since my car is there now, here I sit and wait.

About an hour ago, I felt something dangling around in my left nostril so I tried to surreptitiously fish it out with a napkin.

I looked up to see if there were any witnesses but all I noticed was an adorable little Asian boy being held by his mommy. And he, perfectly so, was also picking his nose.

Thirty minutes later, a knockout blonde wearing workout clothes waltzed in.

As I was checking her out, a guy working being the counter was also giving her the ol’ up-and-down. And then, like it was happening in a movie, the guy behind the counter gave me a quick look as if to say, “Hey brother, it’s a damn good day, right?”

These events, seemingly so insignificant, mean everything to me.

Because nothing is insignificant in oneness.

Especially with you and I.

Regardless of “space” and “time”.

And that’s one to grow on,

gb

P.S. It’s now many hours later. After intense but rapid deliberation, I decided not to fix my car. Instead, I just hopped in a brand new one for a test spin. And I’m not sure what this means, but the song that came on as soon as I turned on the radio was R.E.M.’s “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It”

P.P.S Thank god for that second bagel because I’ve been at the dealership all damn day and haven’t had a bite to eat since.

P.P.P.S “And I feel fine.”

The loveliest little book you’ll ever own is to be bought here:
<a href=”http://www.amazon.com/Love-Looks-Like-This-Berman/dp/0692665382/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1459204514&sr=1-1&keywords=love+looks+like+this
“>Love Looks Like This

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“I Will Make You Fishers Of Men”

Forty-two years ago today, my dad woke up and decided to go fishing.

My mom said, “I don’t think so.”

They went to the hospital instead and came home with me.

And just a few years later, he took me fishing.

And to soccer games. And to car shows and to boat shows and to pizza places. And when my sister’s kids were born, more pizza places.

We fought too. A lot.

I miss him a little bit more today than I usually do.

It’s bizarrely warm out now for the middle of October, so my mom and I are sitting on a bench on the boardwalk in Long Beach.

I need to be more forgiving with her. We’re all headed to the same place.

On the drive over here, I was listening to the Blues Brothers soundtrack. It was one of my dad’s top favorites and mine too of course. He labeled the blank CD after burning the album from me on his super-slow laptop many years ago.

I stared at his handwriting before pulling out of the driveway today.

As I was parking by the beach, the live version of Everybody Needs Somebody To Love started playing. It opens up with Elwood Blues saying, “…please remember people, that no matter who you are and what you do to live, thrive and survive, there’re still some things that makes us all the same. You, me, them, everybody.”

— please check out and support my new site www.DoYouNeedAMiracle.com thank you —

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Vengeance Isn’t Mine (this time)

“I’m Catholic And I Vote!”

Aside from Bush/Cheney and Romney/Ryan, this is officially the dumbest bumper sticker I’ve ever seen.

So, you’re Catholic and you vote. I’m Jewish and a little bloated right now, but you don’t see me broadcasting that on my car, do you?

What message are you trying to get across to us? Your good Catholic values are guiding your ballots?

Wonderful.

But let me ask you this, asshole, what about the dog you leave out in your backyard in nineteen degree weather? What’s that equate to, only thirteen degrees below freezing?

I drive by your house often. At different times. And I always see your dog out there.

You’re a good Catholic? I think not.

FACT: if you feel the need to let the world know about your religion, especially with a bumper sticker, you’re covering something up.

Since I’m not known for turning the other cheek, I’d like to put your poor dog out of its misery. But now that I think about it, I’d rather put you out of your misery.

How dare you treat one of God’s creatures like that?

Nevertheless, I’ll do no such thing.

I’ll just humbly ask the universe for both of your best case scenarios.

And then it will all unfold as it must.

“How many observe Christ’s birthday! How few, His precepts!” – Benjamin Franklin

In Live Like a Fruit Fly, Gabe Berman shares his recipe for living a more joyful, worthwhile, and abundant life in every way. A witty, entertaining, and insightful read.” — Deepak Chopra, Author, The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success

www.LiveLikeAFruitFly.com

www.WhereIsGodWhenOurLovedOnesGetSick.com

www.WeightLossCoffeeMiracle.com

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Can You Handle The Truth?

Was Karl Marx right?

Is religion the opiate for the masses?

Hallucinogenic is probably more correct.

In my completely non-humble opinion, religion warps the truth about God.

It’s like a bad LSD trip.

What’s the truth about God?

We can’t even answer this because the question itself is faulty.

It’s like asking – what’s the truth about truth? Or, what’s the God about truth? Or, of course, what’s the God about God?

Head explode yet?

Don’t sweat it. I can barely keep up and I’m the one writing this (kind of).

What’s the truth about God?

God is truth. Truth is God.

So you see, as crazy as it sounds, atheists believe in God more than many religious people.

Because they believe in truth.

Many religious people believe they’re the sole keepers of truth. But how can their truth be more true than the truth of others?

It can’t.

That, as Spock would say, is illogical.

Religions are stories based on truth.

And stories are just stories. Regardless of how old and ornate the churches and temples are.

So, what is the truth? What would be the one rule of God if she/he/it revealed the one, holy commandment?

Before we get to that, let me tell where this is all bubbling up from.

A friend of mine is a catastrophic loss insurance adjuster and told me the other day that a very religious man didn’t allow him into his house on a Saturday after Hurricane Sandy.

This is warped thinking. A bad trip.

If it wasn’t for the hallucinogenic of religion, any truth seeking person would ask, “How come it’s okay for God to destroy my house but not okay for him to send over one of his angels on the Sabbath to help fix it?”

God didn’t destroy the house? You mean to tell me that God is separate from the weather?

It doesn’t take deep inquiry for the illusion to fade into mere mist.

Which brings us back to the one, holy commandment:

Love.

Love yourself, and others, unconditionally.

Love without condition, expectation, or exception.

Unconditional love for ourselves and others is like the needle in Mia’s heart in Pulp Fiction. It awakens all.

And if our old stories teach us anything other than unconditional love, it’s time to let them go.

Truth/God/Love is our savior.

In Live Like a Fruit Fly, Gabe Berman shares his recipe for living a more joyful, worthwhile, and abundant life in every way. A witty, entertaining, and insightful read.” — Deepak Chopra, Author, The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success

www.LiveLikeAFruitFly.com

www.WhereIsGodWhenOurLovedOnesGetSick.com

www.WeightLossCoffeeMiracle.com

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My Dad Killed My Math Teacher

The last words to come from my math teacher’s lips were, “Gabe is a really good kid.”

It was open school night and I was in the sixth grade.

I was home, watching TV with my sister, and all of the parents in the neighborhood were walking from classroom to classroom.

My dad introduced himself to my math teacher. They shook hands.

Immediately after saying, “Gabe is a really good kid,” my math teacher dropped to the floor like Sonny Liston.

He died right there at my dad’s feet. Massive heart attack.

Hopefully, they’re up there now, laughing about it.

But probably not.

In all likelihood, they see each other from time to time in Heaven’s Cafeteria. It’s a 24-hour joint. They politely nod, but that’s about it.

My math teacher sits at a table with his family and my dad sits with ours.

Jimi Hendrix is hanging with Jesus at an adjacent table.

Jesus gets hit with a spitball and says, “Hey, what the…?”

My dad keeps his classic straight face and avoids making contact with the big guy.

Jesus silently forgives him.

And so have I, for every time he got mad at me, my mom, or my sister for apparently no justified reason.

I now know he was doing the best he could at the time.

www.WhereIsGodWhenOurLovedOnesGetSick.com

www.LiveLikeAFruitFly.com

www.WeightLossCoffeeMiracle.com

In Live Like a Fruit Fly, Gabe Berman shares his recipe for living a more joyful, worthwhile, and abundant life in every way. A witty, entertaining, and insightful read.” — Deepak Chopra, Author, The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success

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Raise Children As Christians?

Two older women at the table next to me at Starbucks were talking about wallpaper. Or maybe it was about gift-wrapping paper. I was only idly listening.

That is, until one of them closed the wallpaper (gift-wrapping?) catalog and said, “And that’s why I believe it’s so important to raise children as Christians.”

I was tempted to ask, “But which Christianity? The Republican version based on the false gods of Guns & Greed? Or the unconditionally loving and forgiving versions of Dr. Martin Luther King and Jesus Christ himself?”

Although, of course, Jesus wasn’t a Christian in the religious sense of the word. Nor was he white. Nor would he be a racist. Or homophobic. Or against healthcare for all. Or for the fetishizing over assault rifles. Or for lining the pockets of the rich at the expense of the middle class.

“If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.” – said by a very dark skinned Jew over two thousand years ago

“In Live Like a Fruit Fly, Gabe Berman shares his recipe for living a more joyful, worthwhile, and abundant life in every way. A witty, entertaining, and insightful read.” — Deepak Chopra, Author, The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success

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