Geert Wilders=Jeremiah

New International Version (NIV)

Psalm 137
1 By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion.
2 There on the poplars we hung our harps,
3 for there our captors asked us for songs, our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
  they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
4 How can we sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land?
5 If I forget you, Jerusalem, may my right hand forget its skill.
6 May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem my highest joy.
7 Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did on the day Jerusalem fell.
“Tear it down,” they cried, “tear it down to its foundations!”
8 Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction, happy is the one who repays you
  according to what you have done to us.
9 Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks.

Geert Wilders, politician in the Netherlands, is begging the world to recognize the Islamic menace for what it is. He sees the invasion of Europe for what it is: an invasion. If history books are written in a thousand years time, and if they are written by a man with a love of the Western tradition, Wilders will be remembered as a hero. Probably a tragic hero. I imagine he will be compared to the Prophet Jeremiah, a Jewish seer who lived in the era of the First Temple, and who experienced its destruction. Jeremiah is one of those historical personalities that is larger than life, larger even than the period in which he lived, dominating history like a colossus.

Jeremiah promised doom. Jeremiah went around telling people about their sins, and the impending destruction that would come to pass as a result. His message was not a popular one. He was scorned, mocked, and, significantly, ignored. He was opposed by a false prophet: Hananiah son of Azur. Where Jeremiah, the actual prophet, foretold misery and destruction, Hananiah assured a receptive audience that all was well. Hananiah falsely claimed, on the Temple grounds, that he received a message from God saying that within two years King-in-exile Jeconiah, his fellow (noble) captives, and the Temple vessels would be brought back to Jerusalem (they were all in exile in Babylonian territory). The people gravitated towards Hananiah’s false but joyous future rather than Jeremiah’s true but miserable future.

God had instructed Jeremiah to wear a wooden yoke, which symbolized slavery and oppression. Hananiah took it upon himself to remove the yoke from the neck of Jeremiah, breaking it. As a result, God told Jeremiah to explain to Hananiah that the wooden yoke he had broken would be replaced with one of iron. The foretold destruction and enslavement would be even worse.

Jeremiah did not relent in speaking the truth. But he was fundamentally ignored. He suffered for his obstinace. Everyone, from his family to the government, opposed him. His enemies imprisoned him and tried killing him, but failed. Jeremiah was actually sitting in prison when Nebuchadnezzar II, in 586, breached the walls of Jerusalem and vanquished the place. Jeremiah was freed by his Babylonian conquerors, and he went into exile. In exile, he wrote the book of Lamentations, speaking poetically about the destruction. He bore witness to that which he both predicted and experienced. It could be confidently said that Jeremiah felt no satisfaction at being vindicated with the fulfillment of his prophecy. The irony, that he was correct in speaking of destruction, and that his opponents--whose very actions helped bring about that destruction--were proven wrong in ignoring his message, must have been a profoundly bitter one. That being said, Jeremiah did speak of hope, and how a better day would dawn for them. In this too he was correct. The Babylonians were replaced by the Persians; they were benevolent overlords, who allowed the Jews to return to Israel and rebuild the Temple. The era of the Second Commonwealth was ushered in.

This is the time we live in. People who speak honestly about the invasion of the West, let alone people who attempt to fight the invasion, suffer, in many cases. These courageous souls are mocked, derided, and insulted. Their words are censored, their social lives imperiled, and their livelihood put in jeopardy. They are charged with criminal activity. They are assassinated. Worst of all, they are ignored. Their words are ignored. Their dire predictions are ignored. Their prophecy is ignored.   

The doomsayers will be proven right, but they will experience no joy as a result. Should they live to see the culmination of the invasion, they will be profoundly bitter. They will watch as what they foretold comes to pass and how their Leftist enemies, by silencing the truth-tellers, contributed to the eventual destruction. And they will weep. We will all weep, then. We will write books of lamentations, but we shall write them from exile.

Our exile shall be like the Babylonian exile in some respects. We will feel just as those ancient men, recorded by the psalmist in chapter 137, who sat and wept by the rivers of Babylon. Our tormentors will ask us for a song: to relive the glory of Western Civilization and sing of it. But how can we sing in a foreign land?! We will recall how enemies cried out about our civilization and culture, “Tear it down! Tear it down to its foundation!”. Then we shall lose the last vestiges of human decency, and speak of smashing our enemies’ babies against the rocks. And even if we recall that our civilization was our highest joy, we know that we will never reclaim it. There will be no one to return us to our homeland in the way the benevolent Persians did once to Jeremiah’s people. All that will be left to do is weep, and remember.