IT OCCURRED to me, after listening to a protestor on the Lawn last Wednesday, that if I were a Christian, I might be a fundamentalist. As many readers now know, the University recently renewed the perennial tradition of hosting religious fanatics. My realization, which I imagine sounds somewhat ridiculous, came only after hearing jeers and criticism from the crowd of what appeared to be fairly mainstream Christians.
In fact, having attended several of similar protests on Grounds and elsewhere, I've noticed that self-affirmed "mainstream Christians" provide most, if not all of the opposition. When protestors proselytize near the Amphitheater, Christians -- not atheists, agnostics, Jews or Muslims -- shout eagerly with equal volume and fury that their God is benevolent and caring. God cares, they say. He redeems. The protestors, of course, maintain that He condemns all masturbators and fornicators to eternal damnation.
While each protest has a unique flavor and tone, they all contain certain commonalities: The protestors always accuse students of sinfulness, the students always object to the accusations and sadly I suppose, the protestors always seem overwhelmingly better educated regarding the Bible and religious literature. This is not to say that the Bible necessarily justifies their fanatic interpretation, but whenever disputes arise pertaining to scripture, the protestors always prevail.
I'm sure many spectators disagree with this interpretation, but during the next protest, go watch and see if any audience members rhetorically disarm the fanatics. And it's worth mentioning that if no one attended these protests, I wouldn't write columns about them. But that won't happen. At least during the protests I've witnessed, the fanatical rantings seem reliably well-attended.
Why is this so consistently the case? Obviously some passing observers enjoy the thought of unadulterated madness on public display. But more curiously, these protests draw spectators who seem enamored by their apocalyptic portrayal of University life.
Fanatics draw such huge crowds because they highlight the worst possible consequences of bad behavior, which is always more compelling than watered-down, happy endings. Consult the entire horror film genre, if you doubt me.
Scarier still, the protestors rarely make wholly unfounded accusations; they hardly say anything not supported by scripture, chapter and verse. Take last week's protest: The dynamic trio proclaimed that University students were "masturbators," "drunkards," "fornicators," and "heretics." They then claimed that if one interprets Biblical text without mercy, this crowd faces an eternity with their sinful compatriots in Hell.
Regarding the former claim, I doubt anyone objects too strongly. Regarding the latter, this part tends to separate the protestors from the crowd. As I'm sure you've noticed, the audience rarely attempts to defend their peers' sinful ways. Rather, they desperately profess that God loves us all, even the masturbators. In other words, the fundamental difference between the fundamentalists and their mainstream critics is the "truth" behind God's mysterious disposition.To be fair, both sides seem to have ample scriptural justification for their claims, but self-avowed Christian students appear to relish the thought of God as a sort of celestial resident advisor -- nice, forgiving, only occasionally doling out punishment and only to the really, really wicked.
Fundamentalists, however, remind students that God might be more Donald Rumsfeld and less Jimmy Carter. Regarding enforcement, the protestors seem more comfortable with tough love. And perhaps that's just the point.
Perhaps the protestors strike an uncomfortable chord when they remind students that their lukewarm version of Biblical justice neglects God's wrath. Perhaps by pointing out the sinful behavior of most university students and their supposedly grim fate, protestors upset mainstream Christians who hope and pray that God loves them unconditionally. Otherwise, why are these protests so compelling? Certainly banal insanity loses its novelty after three or four visits.
As Thursday's lead editorial ("Sticks and Stones") pointed out, so-called religious fanatics seem to haunt the University with annoying regularity. And each appearance provokes columns praising free speech and denouncing fanaticism (both of which I've contributed a fair share). Despite their omnipresence, these visitors always appear to draw large crowds and furious discussion. One imagines that, after the first few demonstrations, the protest-outcry routine would grow tiresome.
And yet, here we are. So, again, one must wonder, are the fanatics simply crazy -- or do they remind less-fanatic Christians of the unpleasant version of their behavior and its consequences?
Dan Keyserling is a Cavalier Daily associate editor. He can be reached at dkeyserling@cavalierdaily.com.