Holy wars tend to put me in a full-body clench.

I’m just that way, I guess.

Well, lately I’ve been walking funny due to a few, it’s always just a few, you know, and these few are using the Good Book of my Lord to advocate for violence.

That thought alone makes me squirm like I should have used Preparation H.

Regardless of your religious affiliation or lack of one, most of the world was horrified by the events of September 11, 2001.  We were also really pissed off.

How dare someone kill in the name of God?  It doesn’t matter if that God is Allah, Jehovah, Yahweh, Vishnu, Jesus, Buddha, Thor or Fred: God of Tailgating and Fritos Corn Chips.  If your god is truly a God, He can do His smiting without any help. 

Well, now there are some who are not shy in their desire to promote their sinful and, by American standards, treasonous goals by their newest slogan:

  PRAY FOR OBAMA: PSALMS 109:8-9

You see, they can’t even be brave enough to say straight out: I am in favor of politically-inspired assassination and I wish to overthrow the democratically-elected government of my country.  No, they have to be snarky about it and say they want you to “pray” for our President and then abhorrently use the words of King David out of context:

“Let his days be few; let another take his office.  Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow.”

Very few, if any, of these violent cowards follow the laws of the Torah and most can’t recite the Ten Commandments let alone obey them since one of them happens to be: “You shall not murder” Exodus 20:13.   I doubt they’ve even attended a single Seder or even eaten a latke.

Jesus said we only need two commandments: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind” Matthew 22:37 and Deuteronomy 6:5 and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” Matthew 22:39 and Leviticus 19:18. 

Not a whole lot of wriggle room there.

On my recent visit to San Diego I saw the true followers of God in action.  My mother wished to attend her church.  She hadn’t been for some time because of the limitations her illness has put upon her.

My job was to simply transport her from her home to her church which was a Sunday morning drive of about 25 minutes each way.

But once we pulled into the church parking lot, the troops went into action.  Each had a designated task and each performed his duty with a serious solemnity that would have impressed even General McArthur, that notoriously difficult-to-please so-and-so of days gone by.

The handicapped parking was deemed too far for my mother to travel so a prime parking space directly in front of the church was being guarded with ferociousness befitting a mama grizzly watching over her cubs.    My father had placed my mother’s wheelchair in the parking space and Tony, a man who looked as if he could not only play professional football, he could probably play the entire front four, guarded it with a snarl.  I pity the foolish parishioner who even thought about parking there.  I imagine, even now, their tires are still melted from being dealt that menacing stare. 

Once my car was spotted, the wheelchair was whisked away and Tony took its place.  I believe he was armed with a rather large stick.  Or maybe it was a small tree.  It was hard to tell.

I pulled into the space and with military preciseness, the wheelchair was brought around to the passenger side before I could turn off the engine.  The door was opened and my mother and her oxygen tank were transferred whether she was ready or not.  At this point, she really didn’t have much of a choice. 

She was gently rolled into the church where my brother-in-law was guarding a prime pew.  It was rumored he was also armed with a large stick.  He had previously shooed away others of the congregation who had perhaps timidly considered sitting there but once my brother-in-law read their thoughts (he’s a retired police officer and they all have this power) he quickly let them know they had better sit elsewhere or be prepared to meet their Maker perhaps  a little sooner than they had previously planned.  One of those shooed was, I am absolutely dead serious about this, a woman with a walker. 

My brother-in-law is ruthless when it comes to guarding pews.

When my mother was ready to leave, she was painlessly delivered to my car in the same fashion she had been previously conveyed and I was given my orders to move it on out.

The TRUE work of the Lord had been done.