Upheaval in the nations in the wake of World War I combined with the Balfour Declaration fuels a Third Aliyah to the Eretz Yisrael. But as Jews begin to reclaim their ancestral land and build the institutions of a modern society, an ancient antagonism begins to resurface with some of their new neighbors, leading to violent pogroms in 1920-21.
God’s love for us is quite literally unfathomable. And sometimes it can even seem unbelievable. When we take a long look at humanity, or even better, a long, honest look at ourselves, it seems comical that God could and does love humans. But He does. Of course we believe God loves us, on paper. But what about on our pillows? What anxieties keep us awake at night that come from a lack of believing, on a gut-level, that God loves us?
The death of John Allen Chau hit the global news cycle and social media like a Category 5 hurricane: hard, and heavy. But it was like a slow Cat 5, the ones that just crawl over land and spin the wrath of their strength over your hometown. John’s name was on front pages and feeds for weeks after he died; even now, years after his death, major studios are working on feature films and documentaries based on his story.
But at the eye of the storm, at the center of the story, is not the tale of a misguided American man. It’s not ultimately about colonialism, or pathogenic concerns. The nations weren’t all of a sudden confronted with a guy named John; the nations were confronted with the Man Christ Jesus, and His claim on every single one of them, now and through eternity.
“Exalting the worth of Jesus Christ among the unreached and unengaged at the end of the age” preaches good. It lives hard. This vision statement has been and will remain the thing that put and keeps us on the field. The worth of Jesus compels us to lay foundations for the Gospel where there are none (as Paul put it in Romans 15:20).
But we’re just really beginning to feel the brutality of a world without the Gospel. The reality of a world without the One who will crush the head of the serpent and save us all from going the way of Cain forever is visceral. We feel it. Our friends in our adopted lands live in it every day. They don’t know anything else.”
This time of year not only marks the end of one and the approach of the next, but it also holds our anniversary as an organization and spiritual family (23 Dec 2011). Every year at this time, like many of you, we look back to look forward.
This year feels a little different. But the core remains the same: the beauty and supremacy of Jesus. He is worth being made known. And everyone everywhere deserves the dignity of an incarnate witness—especially the grieving.
But another phenomenon has also crept out of the Abyss and into the daylight: denial, equivocation, and even gleeful, public celebration of barbaric acts against Jews. These things haven't just come from the voices of Hamas, Hezbollah, and the ayatollahs in Iran. They have come from the streets of Istanbul, London, Paris, Berlin, Toronto, New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles. They have come from university campuses and city squares. Instead of a global outpouring of love and support, the global Jewish community is confronted with a renewed surge of antisemitic anger and violence that has targeted their shops, their homes, and their schools. Simply put, they have become the targets of a delusion.
At the end of the day, social media doesn’t matter. It is here today and gone tomorrow. But “out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks,” and our feeds have become a proverbial reflection of our priorities. I wish I could say I am surprised to see the “social justice warriors” online silent in the aftermath of this terrorist attack. I wish I could say I am surprised that very few news outlets are willing to use appropriate language to call it what it is. I wish I could say I am surprised that any show of support or sympathy for Israel in these days is partitioned with qualifying caveats because “the Israel-Palestine situation is complex.”
Unfortunately, I am not surprised. As Joel Richardson quoted historian Robert Wistrich in The Great Rage, looking into the obscenity that is the Holocaust is like “staring into a black abyss, and hoping it doesn’t stare back.” But to our horror, that black abyss is not simply staring back. It is crawling out from the depths and coming to life through the hands and feet of entities like Hamas. Like Hezbollah. Like the Iranian regime. And in the same way the Nazis were opposed by too few, these monsters in our day are not facing even a fraction of the opposition they deserve.
It is not difficult to be a decent human being. The bar is getting lower and lower. This week is a golden opportunity to meet it.
