Category: Persecution

How on earth did we let “never again” happen again?

Published by Daniel on November 4, 2023

As a student of World War II history, I have been enamored by the question of how the Nazis rose to power. In particular, how did they manage to convince a whole nation that one group of people—simply by birth—was inferior to another? In other words, how did a political party with the most evil intentions convince a nation at the very least to look the other way when implementing the Final Solution to the Jewish Question.

In 1945, when entering the recently liberated Ohrdruf Concentration Camp and witnessing the piles of rotting corpses and the emaciated few survivors, Supreme Commander of the Allies, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, issued two orders.

German civilians burying Jewish corpses at Ohrdruf Concentration Camp.

First, he ordered members of Congress and editors of news organization to come to Ohrdruf and document the overpowering “evidence of bestiality and cruelty” of what he saw. His reason was prophetic: no one is going to believe the common practices of the Nazi concentration camp. There can be no doubt that this horror actually happened.

Secondly, he ordered his officers force German citizens of nearby towns to come and give the piles of bodies a proper burial. The citizen’s crime essentially was apathy. Now they must see and smell for themselves the stench and suffering the Reich thrust upon the Jews.

Apathy can never be an excuse.

Since the 1940s, the horror and shock of the Nazi death camps generated the phrase: never again.

“Never again” was the driving force to keep six million memories alive. “Never again” was the warning to make sure this does not happen in civilized society.

Unfortunately, “never again” is upon us.

It’s been a few weeks since a Hamas army shot rockets and invaded Israeli settlements, taking hundreds of men, women, and children hostage and slaughtering hundreds more.

The numbers of Israeli dead from this attack are staggering. It was the highest single-day death toll of Jews since the holocaust.

The stories and images are horrifying.

Israeli music festival attendees fleeing Hamas gunfire

The massacre of 260 unarmed attendees of a music festival by Hamas terrorists.

The beheading and killing of infants.

Children being ripped from their families and “stockpiled” as human shields.

A 19-year-old Israeli woman named Naama Levy, bloodied with her hands ziptied behind her, being pulled out of the back of a Jeep by her hair as her captors yelled “Allahu Akbar,” a Muslim prayer meaning “God is great.”[1]

This whole attack seemed a clear case of good and evil. Innocent, unarmed civilians—some too young to even walk—were targeted and killed by the hundreds.

I heard a Hamas spokesman claim the attack targeted nothing but two military barracks.

Clearly that is a line of bull.

The images, corpses, and photos of missing women and children say otherwise.

This was a terrorist attack. Plain and simple.

Ah, but life today is never plain and simple.

Within hours of the slaughter, the narrative within media outlets, social media, and universities shifted to put the blame squarely on the victims. The victim became the bad guy. The aggressor the victim. The hashtag “#support for Palestine” dominates TikTok, but that doesn’t mean much. First, there are fifteen million Jews in the world, and over 1.1 billion Muslims. Secondly, I am highly skeptical about what comes out of TikTok, given its primary audience has just enough critical thinking skills to pass on whatever TikTok algorithms tell them to.

This blaming the victim shouldn’t surprise me anymore. This insanity was foreshadowed last spring, when a trans individual shot up a Christian school in Tennessee, killing three and injuring. Within a day, the trans community became the victims, and Christians became the aggressor as though nine-year-old Christian kids had shot up a trans community.

It was bizarre enough, but with the help of the social media, that narrative got traction.

Fast-forward to the slaughter on October 7.

It started within a day of the attack and has progressively spiraled in the weeks since then. First came the obligatory statements of condemnation; however, they were closely followed with calls for a ceasefire.

This was nothing more than a rhetorical stunt. Knowing full-well Israel was going to respond gave pro-Palestinian protesters to change the narrative, making Israel the aggressor.

Since then, American Campuses and public squares filled with loud and increasing violent pro-Palestinian protests. The timing seemed a little insensitive, but we all have the right to be insensitive. If loud groups want to debate Israeli-Palestinians tensions, fine. I have just as much right to ignore them, and given their ignorance in history and lack of a moral compass, I find it not very hard to do.

However, in the weeks following, the rhetoric shifted from pro-Palestinian support to outright anti-Semitism. Every day, I witness a level of hate and violence toward Jews to come out of college campuses that would make any neo-Nazi proud.

Hitler would be smiling if his charred remains had lips.

‘Anti-Semitic’ Mob Storms Russian Airport Looking For Israelis

Stories have come out of Jewish students locked away in a university library as pro-Hamas protesters banged on the doors and windows.[2] In Sydney, Australia, pro-Palestinian protestors chanted “Gas the Jews.”[3] In Russia, pro-Palestinian protestors stormed an airport shortly after a plane from Tel Aviv landed “looking for Jews.”[4] At Cornell University, Patrick Dai was arrested for threatening to slit the throat of any male Jew, rape any female Jew, and bring an AR-15 to shoot up a kosher dining hall.[5]

Is there a limit to this hate?

Apparently not.

As I write this, I saw a headline about a Jordanian man in Texas, living illegally in the United States, “studying ways to make bombs” to target Jews.[6] I even saw that the phrase “Hitler was right” was shared over 17,000 times on social media with zero response from Big Tech.[7] (Although I can understand why: they’re extremely busy shadowing or taking down pro-Israel posts).

Seriously, is all of this for real? Do people realize that the Holocaust happened less than a century ago? Have we really become that stupid? What happened to “never again?”

I have reached a level of horror that the catalyst behind “never again” is currently in the headlines. How is this happening? It goes back to the question of how Hitler managed to convince an entire society that Jews needed to be eradicated?

I now know: you can find that answer in American universities today.

Most of these anti-Semites have zero tolerance for racism. Why are Jews fair game? Do these protesters have any awareness of the irony here?

Sadly, I am guessing that if they do, it doesn’t matter.

Today, good and evil has been replaced with “oppressed” and “oppressor.” Right and wrong are decided not by a moral code but by who can shout the loudest or who can dominate the narrative. An evil act is good if it is against a person or organization defined as “oppressor.”

Apparently, that bound woman getting yanked out of a jeep by her hair is the oppressor. The young hostage waiting to be executed is the enemy. It doesn’t matter if the accusation of an Israeli missile hitting a hospital and killing 500 turn out to be a Jihadi missile that malfunctioned and hit the parking lot next to the hospital. Apparently, if it weren’t for the Jew, the Jihadi missile would not have needed to be fired.

Society has got to get back to the value system of good and evil. Unfortunately, I don’t claim to have the answer how to turn that big ship around. I am thankful that wealthy donors are now openly cutting off their donations to universities and businesses are withdrawing their job offers to antisemites.

I hope it is not too little too late.

For now, Christ-followers must call out evil for what it is. No additional context or nuance is needed.

Evil must always be called evil.

If an innocent person is kidnapped, used as a human shield or slaughtered, it is evil.[8]

“Never again” must mean never again.

[1] https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/world/zip-tied-bloodied-israeli-woman-abducted-in-gaza-by-hamas-militants-during-surprise-attack-video-shows/ar-AA1hQTCx

[2] https://nypost.com/2023/10/26/news/jewish-students-reveal-what-happened-at-cooper-union-protest/

[3] https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/world/australian-pro-palestinian-protesters-chant-gas-the-jews-as-police-warn-jewish-people-to-stay-away-from-area/ar-AA1hZVmZ

[4] https://apnews.com/article/israel-russia-airport-dagestan-riot-antisemitism-aadbfa7389e96f56a9af1ac402195827

[5] https://nypost.com/2023/11/01/news/mugshot-shows-cornell-hamas-fighter-patrick-dai-ahead-of-court-appearance/

[6] https://www.foxnews.com/us/jordanian-national-living-illegally-texas-accused-studying-build-bombs-target-jews-reports

[7] https://www.mediamatters.org/twitter/x-repeatedly-told-us-users-who-posted-hitler-was-right-and-urged-final-solution-jewish

[8] I am aware of the “what about the innocent Palestinian” argument. I am completely aware that some might claim that I am in fact justifying Israel’s action toward a civilian population. However, were it not for Hamas’s October 7 massacre, the majority of Palestinians in Gaza support Hamas, as well as Israeli dropping fliers telling civilization to get out only to be stopped from escape by Hamas and Hamas setting up headquarters in basements of hospitals and school, I would agree. This is not Israel’s responsibility. That lies solely on Hamas.

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Is Daniel an exception to the “loser” rule?

Published by Daniel on October 19, 2015

It was a great question from someone on Facebook.

In my book, Losers Like Us, I illustrated how – excluding Jesus – everyone in the Bible had faults and sins just like ours, and therefore they were all losers like us.

Then came that Facebook question: What about Daniel? Was he an exception?

I had to think about that one.

The book of Daniel is set during Israel’s captivity in Babylon (in the 500s BC)—yet it mentions elements of Greek culture which did not exist at that time, and it is written partly in Hebrew and partly in Aramaic (a later language). For these and other reasons, many scholars believe that someone else wrote Daniel’s story long after his death, just as Moses wrote the patriarchs’ stories long after their deaths. Also, some scholars believe Daniel was not a real person and the book of Daniel is just an allegory which was written to encourage the Jews, perhaps during the oppressive reign of Antiochus Epiphanes IV (about 165 BC).

I can’t say exactly when or by whom the book was written, but I do believe Daniel was a real person because Jesus calls him “the prophet Daniel” (Matthew 24:15).

From the beginning, Scripture presents Daniel as a man of great character, and never accuses him of a single flaw. As a captive in Babylon, he walks a fine line: with great humility he submits to his captors, yet with great courage he refuses to obey their pagan demands. When Darius, the Babylonian king, decrees that those who pray to anyone other than him will be fed to the lions (Daniel 6:7-9), Daniel continues praying to Yahweh every day, in front of his window, just as he always has (a respectful “neener neener”). His trust in God is complete. And when he is thrown to the lions, God shuts their mouths (Daniel 6:22) to save his life.

With a bio like that, it’s hard to find fault with Daniel. So the question about whether he still qualifies as a loser gave me pause.

Yet I conclude that, yes, Daniel was a loser. I say this not because I feel superior to, or critical of, Daniel – but because he was human, and therefore a loser in the sense of being a sinner. Thus he is not an exception to the rule.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog (2015/06/17), “Can we be sinners but not losers?”, only Jesus lived a sinless life; all the rest of us, including Daniel, have been sinners and therefore losers. And as long as we live on this earth, sin is with us even though we have received grace and salvation (I John 1:5-10).

But there is another, more personal indication that Daniel was a sinner / loser: his response to the presence of holiness.

In Daniel 10, a man appears before Daniel. But this is no ordinary man. This man is ablaze with fire, shining like polished brass or bronze (v. 5)—just like the man seen by Ezekiel (Ezekiel 1:27) and John (Revelation 1:13-17). John identifies this man as the risen Christ (Revelation 1:11, 13, 17).

Yet Daniel, Ezekiel, and John all respond to this man in the same way: they fall to the ground (Dan. 10:9, Ezekiel 1:28, Rev. 1:17).

Why?

Because unholiness cannot coexist with holiness – just as darkness cannot coexist with light. In the presence of God’s perfect holiness, I believe Daniel falls to the ground because of his own sins and impurities, even though they are not specified by name.

Yet Daniel lived a life full of faith and power, whether he was defying a maniacal king or facing down a den of hungry lions. He was both a sinner and a saint—at the same time.

All of us, including Daniel, are sinners and therefore losers. Only when we acknowledge our guilt and brokenness can we begin to understand the healing power and significance of grace.

As the life of Daniel shows us, following Jesus is not about totally conquering all imperfection, all of the time; instead, it is about surrendering our imperfection to God, while he builds his kingdom in the middle of it.

A perspective greater than terror

Published by Daniel on March 3, 2015

Last month we learned of a Jordanian pilot being burned alive and twenty-one Egyptian Christians being beheaded. In light of these horrors, I was flooded with anger, disgust, and heartbreak – natural responses to unspeakable acts. On top of this chaos was the painful suggestion that we shouldn’t feel such emotions, because other atrocities were committed in the name of Christ several decades or centuries ago.

I’m not saying old atrocities don’t matter. What I am saying is that these new atrocities are here and now, and the pain and horror are fresh and real. How is it helpful to debate historical events when we are in the middle of new terrorist slaughters day by day? Such debates will not stop the terror, nor will they help the victims that are being added with each new incident.

I think the crux of my overwhelming emotions was that I just don’t know what to do. How do I, as a follower of Jesus, respond to these terrible crises so far away—yet somehow so close? There seems to be no human solution to the violence, because violence tends to bring on more violence in our world’s economy of revenge. But on the other hand, doing nothing also seems to bring on more violence, because there is no pushback to check it.

Right after the beheadings, my daily scripture reading resonated amazingly with my feelings of frustration:

Your foes roared in the place where you met with us;
they set up their standards as signs.
They behaved like men wielding axes
to cut through a thicket of trees.
They smashed all the carved paneling
with their axes and hatchets.
They burned your sanctuary to the ground;
they defiled the dwelling place of your Name.
They said in their hearts, “We will crush them completely!”
They burned every place where God was worshiped in the land.
We are given no miraculous signs;
no prophets are left,
and none of us knows how long this will be.
How long will the enemy mock you, O God?
Will the foe revile your name forever?
Why do you hold back your hand, your right hand?
Take it from the folds of your garment and destroy them!
(Psalm 74:4-11)

This psalm was likely written in the context of the destruction of the temple by Nebuchadnezzar around 586 B.C. The author’s horror and confusion echo my own. Mass murder and brutality rage all around him, and God seems to be doing nothing about it.

The psalmist and I agree: Surely God sees the senseless violence; surely he could fix the problem. Together, we beg for divine intervention: Why doesn’t God stop the evil? Why doesn’t he unleash hellfire and brimstone in swift, sure judgment on this wicked world? (As I wish for this, I forget of course that if he did so, I myself would also be included in the judgment.)

Quite frankly, that was the direction my heart wanted to go. As in Revelation 19, I wanted to see Jesus, the Lord of Lords, galloping in with eyes of fire to confront the killers. I wanted justice—fast and brutal—poured down on the murderers of those twenty-one brothers in Christ, the Jordanian pilot, and the scores of other men, women, and children slaughtered in the name of a hijacked religion.

However, the psalmist’s next thought was so striking that it set me back on my heels:

But you, O God, are my king from of old;
you bring salvation upon the earth. (v. 12)

In the next verses (13-17), the writer goes on to praise God for his absolute sovereignty over the seas, the beasts, the rivers, the heavens, and the seasons.

In this psalm, there is no transition at all between challenging the inaction of God and praising that very same God. It seems an odd juxtaposition. On top of the old question of why God holds back judgment, I now have new questions: Why doesn’t the psalmist continue to hold God’s feet to the fire, so to speak? Why change direction and start praising God instead?

As verse 12 so eloquently reveals, for all of these questions the answer is the same: although God is a God of judgment, he is also a God of salvation. His highest purpose is to bring salvation to every corner of the whole earth.

In my anger and helplessness, I am forced to widen my scope.

Once again, I think of those twenty-one brothers in Jesus, kneeling on the beach, preparing to have their throats slit and their blood flow into the water. They are not victims; they are martyrs—a word which means “witnesses”—bearing witness to the Savior of this dark world. In the video of their executions, their last words were declarations that Jesus is Lord.

Jesus said, “But I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself” (John 12:32). There was far more courage in those Christ-followers facing death with Jesus’ name on their lips, than in those who stood over them holding the knives. Is it naïve—or even offensive—to think that this scene, horrific as it was, may be less about Allah’s vengeance than about God’s salvation?

Like the psalmist’s, my focus is taking a sharp, unexpected turn. Though the questions and confusion are real, we must lift up Jesus—like those twenty-one witnesses now in his arms—and pray for the Middle East to be flooded with something new: not horror and heartbreak, but salvation.

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