When the ax fell on the neck of Charles I, king of England, the lion’s share of the booty went to Oliver Cromwell. He became the first ruler in the history of England who was not of royal blood and ruled the kingdom for some years, until his (nonviolent) death in 1658. Cromwell, who experienced a religious revelation, was a pious Puritan, and it was during his rule that Jews were permitted to resettle in England, for the first time since their expulsion from the country in 1290.
That decision was not due to a sudden outburst of love of Zion on Cromwell’s part. In fact, he and his fellow Puritans planned to convert the Jews who returned to Christianity. In addition, among the reasons in favor of allowing them to come back was none other than Deuteronomy 28:64: “And the Lord shall scatter thee among all peoples, from the one end of the earth even unto the other end of the earth.”
Since it was clear to the English that they were indeed at the end of the earth, and since they were convinced that Jesus would not return and redeem the world until all that Moses spoke of in his prophecy had come to pass, it followed that there was no choice but to allow “Israel according to the flesh” to return and inhabit their land.
An example like this – of the interdependence between Christian redemption and the acts of the Jews – was once rare, but no more. Nowadays, its signs are easily discernible, even if we do not identify them at first glance. “Replacement theology,” which posits Christianity as “the true Israel” that replaced Judaism in its exclusive proximity to the Creator, is not in fashion today. Indeed, Protestant evangelicals reject it explicitly. They insist on the cast-iron nature of the covenant between the Jews and God.
These are the same Zionist evangelicals who oppose any peace agreement in which Israel will cede parts of the homeland, and who customarily make donations to various right-wing associations in Israel. For them, Israeli sovereignty over the Holy Land is fraught with redemptive meaning. Only the continuing and eternal covenant between the Jewish people and its God in heaven can lend a messianic significance to its deeds on earth.
It was such a frame of mind that prompted the well-known evangelical preacher Jerry Falwell to assert, back in 1988, that “the most important date we should remember [since the Ascension] is May 14, 1948.” The reason is because, in his view, the creation of the State of Israel “is the greatest single sign indicating the imminent return of Jesus Christ.”
But there’s a snag. Two months ago we celebrated the 65th anniversary of Israel’s creation, and for some reason Jesus has not yet appeared.
What could be the explanation for his tarrying? Here our remarks move closer to Tisha B’Av, the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av, the day on which the Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed. As we know, since the destruction of the Temple, the Shechinah – the divine presence – has been in exile. However, what many do not know is the scale to which this state of affairs is also playing havoc with the efforts of the Son of God to return and redeem the world.
The Temple, certain Christians will maintain, is essential for Christian redemption. To understand why, we have to probe the intricacies of the messianic belief held by the Zionist evangelicals. Most subscribe to the doctrine of an Irish evangelicals named John Nelson Darby (1800-1882). Darby viewed the Scriptures as a uniform prophetic continuum, all of whose parts are connected and interwoven. He developed an interpretation which finds in the textual
concatenation recurring hints and hidden predictions of a redemptive historical occurrence that is divided into stages − an occurrence of which we stand on the brink today. According to Darby, Jesus’ second coming will begin when he appears in the heavens and draws his believers to him. This sudden “rapture” will cause millions of decent Christians to disappear instantaneously from the face of the earth.
Then begins the second stage. While those Christians dwell in heaven for seven good years, the earth is to be wracked by ordeals and tribulations. From natural disasters to war, life becomes hell for everyone who did not rise to the upper worlds. The Jews specifically will have a harsh passage. True, they will be living in their land in full sovereignty, but they will be unable to accept Jesus into their hearts. Instead, they will prefer to consider one of their own as the messiah. To our great regret, that figure will be, in effect, an Antichrist.
This false messiah will sweep the Jews in his wake, build the Temple and reinstate the practice of sacrifice. The rest of the world will not remain idle: Hostile armies will invade the Land of Israel (all of Asia, Africa and Europe); two-thirds of the Jewish people will be slaughtered in the vast wars that will ensue. The remaining one-third will decide at long last to convert to Christianity. At the end of seven years, Jesus will descend from heaven together with his believers, expel the false messiah and rule for 1,000 years from his capital, Jerusalem. This apocalyptic scenario obliges his adherents to believe that for redemption to occur, the Jewish people must establish a state (which was done in 1948), rule in Jerusalem and on the Temple Mount (1967), and rebuild the Temple (pending). Building the Temple is critical, because, according to Darby’s vision, the Jewish false messiah will be bound to desecrate it.
Based on an interpretation of verses from the Book of Daniel and the Gospel According to Matthew, Darby stated that the ruler will place an “abomination that maketh desolate” in the Holy of Holies. It is not clear what this is, but it is clear that it will defile the Temple. This, according to Darby, will be a definite sign that the Second Coming of Jesus is nigh, and with it the start of his millennial dominion. Thus, realization of full redemption requires the desecration of the Temple. However, before a temple can be desecrated, there first must be a temple.
In his 1970 book “The Late Great Planet Earth,” which became a mythical best seller and sold more than 15 million copies, evangelical writer Hal Lindsey sums up the conditions for redemption: “The main points are these: First there will be a reinstitution of the Jewish worship according to the Law of Moses with sacrifices and oblations in the general time of Christ’s return; secondly, there is to be a desecration of the Jewish Temple in the time immediately preceding Christ’s return ... If this is the time that this writer believes it is, there will soon begin the construction of this Temple.”
Lindsey further exhorts his believers: “Look for movements within Israel to make Jerusalem the center of the world and to rebuild their ancient Temple on its old site.” Indeed, he and his followers have been looking ever since − and, of late, finding.
Cooperation between Jewish temple activists and Christian groups began back in the 1980s, but only as the millennium approached did it become closer and more routine. Apart from political and financial support for the positions espoused by the Israeli right, evangelical groups donate funds for the activity of the Temple groups. In recent years, a gathering has been held every Sukkot in the Jerusalem Convention Center, attended by thousands of evangelicals, as well as by MKs from right-wing parties. Just a year ago, during a visit to Israel, the evangelical preacher John Hagee (who in the past has made donations to the Zionist Im Tirtzu organization) declared that after the pre-redemption wars, the Temple Mount “is where the temple of the Lord Jesus Christ will be when he rules and reigns the earth from the city of Jerusalem for a thousand years.”
The relationship between Christian evangelicals and Temple activists is warmer today than ever. It is a strange alliance, in which each side is using the other to further its own redemptive goals, knowing full well that the other has a completely alternative, indeed opposite, picture of the way redemption will look. As the Emperor Vespasian said concerning the tax he levied on public urinals in Rome, “Pecunia non olet” − that is, money doesn’t smell. That’s why you can take it from whoever hands it to you. And yes, that is the same Vespasian who commanded the campaign to crush the Great Revolt of 67 C.E., and whose son, Titus, destroyed the Temple. Darby was right: Everything is connected.
People have a God-given right to believe what they want, of course, and freedom of religion should be among the foundations of every democratic
society. The State of Israel goes further than that, however: It not only upholds the religious rights of those who yearn for the Temple, but also does not hesitate to finance these groups and even to send schoolchildren on guided tours to their facilities.
It is at this juncture that religious belief becomes a tool to further a nationalist agenda. Here, the struggle for domination of the Temple Mount is used as part of the campaign for Israel’s domination of the land occupied in the 1967 Six-Day War, and the Temple activists as soldiers furthering the state’s supposed interests.
I don’t believe that the State of Israel is interested in building a temple on Mount Moriah. However, by encouraging these activities, it is taking the risk of being understood that way. Some Muslim groups might well view Israel as being in conspiracy with its Christian friends against them, and against their sacred sites on the mount. The stakes here are high − some would say, the highest. By all informed opinion, the Temple Mount is a highly charged hazard zone, and playing with ideological matches around it should be very much discouraged. Tisha B’Av, which was marked this week, reminds us of the unbearable price we might pay for such irresponsible acts.
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