Too few Jews stand up for Christians in my experience

Deliver Us from Evil

By Robin of Berkeley

It's funny how trivial events somehow get seared into your brain. This one is from years ago, when I was enjoying a yogurt on Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley.

Suddenly, a large exotic bug appeared and started dancing around. Its iridescent colors caught the sun and glistened like a rainbow. A crowd formed to watch its antics in shared delight.

Out of nowhere, a lunatic pushed through the crowd. I'd seen this guy before -- paranoid, menacing. His rage toward the bug slit me like a knife. The insect was getting attention, people were happy, and he was out for revenge.

The man bolted through the crowd, possessed. He jumped on the bug, over and over and again. People gasped. A child cried. And then, as quickly as it began, it was all over.

Silently, numbly, the crowd dispersed. The man, now triumphant, smiled hideously. I threw away the yogurt, which was now rendered tasteless.

I'll never forget the look of blind hatred on that man's face. It communicated this: "I want what you have."

And: "If I can't have it, I'll destroy it."

This random experience flashed in my mind recently when I was in a Berkeley bookstore. With my newfound interest in religion, I wanted to peruse that section.

After hunting down a clerk to unearth the tiny religion area, I perused the shelves. In actuality, the area should have been called the Anti-Christianity Section.

While there were respectful tomes on the other religions, the Christianity section was a virtual pillorying of Jesus.

Every book denounced him, mocked him, or reinvented him as something entirely new. There were books debunking the Gospel, with each author sounding gleeful, like a wicked child.

Now, I understand that some people reject religion. But why the venom? The contempt, the need to torpedo Christ?

This campaign against Christianity isn't confined to an obscure Berkeley bookstore. And it didn't begin with Obama. There's been an active crusade for decades to try to destroy Jesus with Alinksy-like tactics: freeze the subject, humiliate, marginalize.

But while demonizing Christianity is nothing new, it's reached a fever pitch since Obama came on the scene. It's no wonder: Obama sent out clear messages from the start.

Obama's first interview as president was for an Arab broadcaster. Then he covered up a cross at Notre Dame and was a no-show on the National Day of Prayer.

Lately, it seems like open season on Christians. The Pope has been subjected to unprecedented condemnation, with atheists Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens plotting ways to have him arrested.

Comedy Central plans a cartoon show mocking Jesus. On the TV show Curb Your Enthusiasm, Larry David does something so offensive that I will only offer you alink.

In the past I would simply put on my therapist cap with people like these. I'd probe their childhood for evidence of maltreatment. I'd label them as narcissists and antisocial personalities.

But now I have a different worldview, one that goes much deeper than just the psychological. Now I understand that this world is infused with the Divine. And that there is a competing force, one that is the polar opposite.

I now have a word for that creepy feeling deep down in my gut. And I finally understand the source.

Now I see what's really behind the campaign to banish religion; it's to render us utterly helpless. Because after all, without God, what protection is there in this brutal world?

Sadly, grievously, I look out on my country. I see the corruption and undoing. I witness the ever-growing tsunami of hate that threatens everyone in its path.

And I see citizens oblivious to the dangers because they're mired in the slime of moral relativism. They have no language, no hiding place, no possible way to shield their children in the deep and darkest nights.

And I see that lunatic, the one with the crazy, hollow eyes. But he's not just on Telegraph Avenue.

He's far and wide: in the hallowed halls of Congress, in the institutes of higher learning, in basement rooms where small men troll.

If you listen closely, you can hear that same diabolical cry:

"I want what you have.

And if I can't have it, I'll destroy it."

The lunatic is on the grass.

The lunatic is on the grass.

Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs.

Got to keep the loonies on the path.

The lunatic is in the hall.

The lunatics are in my hall.

The paper holds their folded faces to the floor

And every day the paper boy brings more.

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon

And if there is no room upon the hill

And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too

I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.

(from "Brain Damage" by Pink Floyd)