In July of 2011, a 33-year-old Norwegian bombed an Oslo government building and then gunned down scores of guests at a Labor Party youth camp. Seventy-seven people died, and many more were injured.
Prior to the attacks, the young gunman wrote a lengthy manifesto titled 2083: A European Declaration of Independence. In chilling detail, he describes how he carefully planned and trained for the attacks that he wanted to be seen as part of an organized resistance to European policies of immigration and multiculturalism.
When brought to trial, the self-confessed killer boasted to the court that he had “carried out the most spectacular and sophisticated attack on Europe since World War II.”
As the trial moved forward, the defendant said he was ready to die for the preservation of racial and religious purity. But he denied guilt for charges of terror and murder. He claimed that his actions to resist the corrupting influences of growing non-Christian populations were “based on goodness, not evil.”
In protest to the killer’s public statements, 40,000 Norwegians rallied in Oslo’s City Square to sing a song that the killer believed illustrates the liberal propaganda that was poisoning children’s minds. The song, “Children of the Rainbow” says in its chorus, “Can you wish for more? Together shall we live, every sister, brother . . .”
The young man’s writings showed that he regarded as enemies those who are changing the culture. Though he said he didn’t see himself as especially religious, he did identify with medieval crusades against non-Christian forces and wanted to be seen as a Christian martyr.
The tragic incident called attention to feelings about social and religious pluralism that are not limited to Norway and Europe. Many in the United States are also combining Christian history and culture with a conservative mindset to resist ethnic and religious change. In unlikely alliances of common concern, church people, political strategists, and media groups are trying to limit the spread of moral and religious diversity.
Some within these groups find inspiration in the story of ancient Israel. Convinced that God is on their side, they identify with a chosen people’s responsibility to occupy and control the religion and moral culture of their homeland.
Israel, however, wasn’t like the multicultural nations of our day. It had a monocultural society that went beyond common ancestry, law, religion, and language. In addition, the God of Abraham made the 12 clans of Israel collective witnesses to miracles that even their enemies could not deny (Joshua 2:9-11). First there was a supernatural exodus from Egypt. Then came 40 years in a barren wilderness where hundreds of thousands of Jewish people experienced God’s daily, supernatural provisions of food, water, and protection in a barren wilderness (Deuteronomy 8:15-20).
In addition, it’s important to see that, as God looked after His chosen people, He did it like a wise Father. In so many ways He showed that He didn’t want His chosen people to develop the national, political, or ethnic pride of a God-is-on-our-side attitude.
For example, soon after Joshua replaced Moses as the leader of Israel, God sent an angel to remind the new general of who was in charge. As Joshua prepared to lead the army of Israel in conquest of their Promised Land, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword. Startled, Joshua asked, “Are you for us or for our enemies?” “Neither,” he replied, “but as commander of the army of the Lord I have now come” (Joshua 5:13-14 NIV).
The messenger’s refusal to identify himself as a partisan ally of Israel may remind us that the God of Abraham has a vision for the world that is greater than His chosen people (Genesis 12:1-3).
Yet not until the coming of Jesus do we see how much God values those on all sides of every conflict. Only by the life, death, and resurrection of His Son do we see how He remained above the issues that divide us—to do what no political coalition, moral agenda, or policy of religious tolerance could ever do.
By dying for all, without sacrificing truth or moral values in the process, the Son of God broke down well-known walls of separation. In their place He built bridges of reconciliation so that, in Jesus, Jews and Gentiles, whether slave or free, could become men and women who find their oneness in Christ (Galatians 3:28).
This is the vision that enables us to find unity not by the coercive power of guns, bombs, bullets, or ballot box, but by a voluntary acceptance of His love for all of us.
Father in heaven, forgive us for giving our hearts to any cause of resistance, or strategy for change, that does not reflect Your heart for the rescue and good of everyone Your Son died for. —Mart DeHaan