The Thing that Used to Be Conservative Christianity meets a saint

Here’s the theology background for the “Christianity means kicking somebody’s ass–hard!” crowd:

“In Revelation (the last book of the New Testament), Jesus is a prize-fighter with a tattoo down His leg, a sword in His hand and the commitment to make someone bleed. That is the guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper, halo Christ because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up.” Mars Hill pastor Mark Driscoll, echoing the pious sentiments of the guys who scourged Jesus

and here’s foreign policy expert Sarah Palin singing the praises of mass murder via weapons of mass destruction in a remarkably stupid analogy:

“It’s unbelievable. Unbelievable,” said Palin on Wednesday evening while appearing on Sean Hannity’s Fox News program. “No administration in America’s history would, I think, ever have considered such a step that we just found out President Obama is supporting today. It’s kinda like getting out there on a playground, a bunch of kids, getting ready to fight, and one of the kids saying, ‘Go ahead, punch me in the face and I’m not going to retaliate. Go ahead and do what you want to with me.'”

Meanwhile, here’s peacenik wimp St. Dominic Savio:

It is during this year that the record of Dominic’s life gives us an incident full of heroism, and which is the more remarkable when his youth is taken into consideration, for he was only fourteen when he came to the Oratory. The occurrence in question concerns two of his school fellows, between whom a fierce quarrel had arisen, on account of some remarks on a point of family honour. The quarrel proceeded from the exchanging of insults to the giving of blows and stone throwing. Dominic came to hear of this quarrel, but he saw the difficulty of trying to interfere, for both boys were older and bigger than he was. However he found means for approaching each in turn, urged them to give up their hatred, and pointed out that anger and revenge were against the commandments of God; he wrote to each of them, threatening to acquaint their parents and their master, but the headstrong boys were not to be influenced; their minds had become so embittered that all entreaties were in vain. Apart from the risk of bodily injury to themselves, Dominic was most concerned with the offence against God, and he was eager to find some means of effectually interfering, but was perplexed as to the manner of doing so.

He then seemed to have an inspiration. He waited for the boys after school, and contriving to speak to each alone, he said: “Since you will persist in this insane and sinful quarrel I ask you to accept one condition.” Each agreed, provided it did not interfere with their challenge of a fight with stones, and indulged in some very unbecoming language in reference to his enemy. The very language was enough to make Savio shudder, but desirous of preventing a greater evil he said: “The condition I wish to impose does not interfere with the challenge: “Then what is it?” “I shall not tell you till you meet for the duel.”

They thought he was making game of them, but Savio insisted that he was quite serious and that he would be on the scene. Neither could conjecture what his plan was.

The place for the fight was a lonely spot outside the town. The boys, getting more and more incensed, were almost going to fight on the way, but Dominic managed to prevent them. The scene of action was reached, and the boys took up their positions at a little distance from each other, and had by them the stones they were to hurl. Now was Dominic’s time for mediation. He stepped in the middle and said: “Before you commence to fight you must fulfil the condition you agreed upon.” So saying he drew out of his coat pocket a crucifix and held it up in the air. “I desire,” he said, “that each of you should look on this crucifix, and then if you will throw, you must throw the stone at me and say: “Our Saviour died pardoning his very persecutioners; I, a sinner, am about to offend Him by an act of open revenge.”

Having said this, he threw himself on his knees before the one who seemed most enraged, and said: “Throw your stone at me; let me have the first blow.” A shiver seemed to go through the boy thus addressed. “No,” he exclaimed, “I couldn’t do it. I am not so mean as that. I have nothing against you.”

On hearing this Dominic turned to the other boy, who had been watching in amazement, and made the same proposal to him. He too refused such a cowardly act.

Then Dominic got up and said, with great earnestness: “You are both ashamed to commit this act of brutality against me; and yet you would commit it against God and lose your soul by grievous sin.” And he held up the crucifix again.

This proved too much for the two boys; they were moved by his true Christian charity and his courage. One of them confessed that he felt a cold shiver, and felt thoroughly ashamed that he had forced a friend of Savio’s character to take such extreme measures. Wishing to make him some amends, he forgave entirely the boy with whom he had quarrelled and promised to go to Confession at once. Thus Dominic secured a victory for charity and taught the boys a lesson. Is it too striking an act of courage to recommend for example to young school boys? This incident would have remained a profound secret, had it not been related by both boys who were the partners to the challenge.

But, of course, we’re not supposed to really *believe* that stuff. Practically speaking, we are supposed to believe in torture and in granting the President the unlimited right to declare anybody he likes an enemy combatant without trial or evidence and order their murder. *That’s* common sense and hard-nosed practical realism. Imitating the saints is pie in the sky bedwetting anti-American peacenikkery.