I’ve been following the 9/11 Mosque story for several weeks. This morning I read a great article from the Weekly Standard which explains the background of the developers and proponents. Sadly, we’re talking about folks real connected to fundamentalist Islam.
I learned in this article, for the first time (for me), that the proposed name of the Mosque is the “Cordoba Center.”
In the mid-700’s Cordoba was the capital of an Islamic caiphate located in the heart of Spanish, Roman Catholic territory. This city represented a bastion of victorious Islamic jihad in the midst of Esav/Western Europe.
The chutzpah involved in this Mosque building effort is just over-the-top! Obviously, the hand of HaShem.
As many readers and radio show listeners recall, for the past several weeks I’ve been writing about the Islamification of America, and of African Americans in particular. My small O-dox Jewish neighborhood is smack in the middle of urban black neighborhoods in a major Midwestern city.
While there’s been occasional crime here, thank G-d, there have been no anti-Jewish incidents. Until erev Shabbat last Friday. My obviously Jewish children and nephew were playing in the front of my house. A car with black passengers drove by. Somebody yelled out the window, “F–king Jews!”.
It was the first time this happened in seven years that I’ve lived here! I asked a few old-timers, and they could not recall such a thing ever happening in this neighborhood.
Sure, a one-time stupid incident is not so meaningful in and of itself. But that it happened to my kids in front of my house? Given the timing, in light of my recent thoughts, speech, and writings, I find it highly significant and quite amazing hashgocha pratis (individualized divine providence).
My kids were shocked but I reminded them of the Rashi that speaks about why it was that the first born of Pharoah’s slaves were also killed. B”H, they knew the answer – because even the slaves persecuted the Jews.
While reproach from the vile appears on its face to be humiliating – it does, truly, demonstrate that HaShem is so intimately involved in our lives.
When I told my wife about the incident – which is quite shocking really – she reflexively replied, “We’re outta here.”
I suppose she’s hanging out with her husband too much!