Lament is Not Enough: Evangelicals offer “Thoughts and Prayers” for Gaza - Bruce Fisk

“I've seen the flame of hope among the hopeless
And that was truly the biggest heartbreak of all.”

Bruce Cockburn, Last Night of the World (1999)

Permission: Omar Esstar

October 7, 2023: a dark day that changed everything. Ever since, a nation of traumatized, enraged Israeli Jews have been grieving over loved ones slaughtered when Hamas militants entered Israel. The massacre of more than 1,100 in a single day conjured specters of the Holocaust, robbed Israelis of their secure refuge, and fomented resentment of their government’s complacency and incompetence.

Overnight, a politically fractured nation was united in what they felt was a battle for survival. Voices calling for negotiations or ceasefire were notably absent. Thousands of Israeli reservists found themselves preparing for urban warfare in the streets of Gaza.

Almost as traumatic in Israel was the number of hostages Hamas smuggled into Gaza—originally 240, including children, the elderly, and foreign workers, of which about 105 have been released. Hostage family members, camped out near Israel’s Defense Ministry, are demanding political engagement with Hamas instead of endless war.

Also, since October 7, millions of traumatized, desperate Gazans have lost homes, hospitals, schools, and families. Israel has intentionally deprived them of medical care, electricity, clean water, shelter, sanitation, and adequate food. Those not yet killed by bombs or bullets are now succumbing to disease, thirst, and starvation. As winter sets in, desperation deepens.

The toll of death and displacement in Gaza has surpassed what Palestinians suffered in 1948, during the saga they remember as The Catastrophe. Israeli forces have killed an average of 300 Gazans per week (not counting a week-long ceasefire). According to U.S. intelligence, Israel dropped more than 29,000 bombs on Gaza between the beginning of the assault and mid-December. More than twice as many Gazan civilians have been killed in three months than over the two years of Russian-Ukrainian warfare. These numbers, covering October 7 to January 24, need daily updating.

In Israel	Killed: about 1,139 (including 29 children) Injured: at least 8,730, along with destroyed homes and property
In the   West     Bank	Killed: at least 370 (including more than 99 children) Injured: more than 4,250
In Gaza	Killed: at least 25,700 (more than 10,000 children, 7,000 women, 94 journalists) Injured: more than 63,740 (at least 8,663 children and 6,327 women) Missing: more than 8,000  Destroyed or damaged: more than half of Gaza’s homes, plus schools, hospitals, ambulances, places of worship Displaced from their homes: 85% of Gazans

With the Gaza Strip increasingly unlivable, Israeli officials across the political spectrum are openly pushing to “voluntarily” resettle Gazans in countries like Egypt, Congo and Saudi Arabia. When we recall that Zionist forces expelled ¾ million Palestinians in 1948 (many of whom ended up in Gaza), and destroyed their homes to prevent mass return, we understand why Gazans are experiencing this nightmare as déjà vu.

Many were surprised when Palestinian Christians canceled Christmas celebrations to stand in mournful solidarity with friends and family whom they could not protect. Worship, yes, but nothing festive. No giant tree and twinkling lights, no choirs, no bands marching along Star Street. Shops were shuttered. Streets were silent.

The Nativity scene in Bethlehem’s Manger Square showed the Holy Family amidst rubble and razor wire. From the nearby Lutheran Church, Pastor Munther Isaac preached a Christmas sermon that made headlines across the world. His lament began with a confession: “We are angry. We are broken. . . We are mourning. We are fearful.”

As Matthew’s Gospel tells the Christmas story, an enraged Herod the Great slaughtered innocent infants. Again today, Rachel weeps for her children because they are no more. Grim history repeats.

Public Domain: The Massacre of the Innocents by Rubens (1638)

The history of Gaza is complicated. The war of 1948 saw Palestinian refugees pushed into the tiny Strip, where they came under Egyptian and then, in 1967, Israeli control. Israel shifted in 2005 from internal control of Gaza to external blockade. Hamas won the election of 2006, seized power in 2007, and continues to promote armed resistance and to target civilians. Gaza today is a humanitarian disaster after a 16 year-long blockade and a rhythm of deadly assaults, one as recently as May 2021. None of this compares to the destruction wrought in 2023.

With evidence mounting that Israel intends to empty Gaza of Palestinians, more than 55 scholars of the Holocaust, genocide, and mass violence recently sounded the alarm. South Africa has likewise made their case at the UN’s International Court of Justice, aiming to hold Israel accountable for violations of the Genocide Convention, and to protect Palestinians “who remain at grave and immediate risk.”

Rejecting such accusations, some American Evangelicals remain eager to defend modern Israel—its right to exist, its eternal and historical claims on the Land, its need for security—even as the enraged nation lays waste to the Gaza Strip and sacrifices women, children, journalists, and medics. From Christian pulpits and websites, we hear declarations that Hamas poses an existential threat to Israel, that calling for a ceasefire amounts to antisemitism, and that those who weigh the merits of Hamas’ grievances are aligning themselves with pure evil. Such tidy dichotomies—them & us, darkness & light, evil & good—only work if we rewrite history, silence dissent, and ignore credible evidence of Israel’s war crimes.

Another favorite Evangelical response in the West has been silence. We lament the devastation war inevitably brings. We pray for Jesus to return. But we utter no condemnation. No confession of complicity. Nothing prophetic or risky. Our silence has left Palestinian Christian sisters and brothers feeling abandoned. It has also undermined the credibility of our Gospel which, we may recall,  includes the call to love enemies and make peace.

"Peacemaking doesn’t mean passivity,” Shane Claiborne explains. “It is the act of interrupting injustice without mirroring injustice, the act of disarming evil without destroying the evildoer, the act of finding a third way that is neither fight nor flight but the careful, arduous pursuit of reconciliation and justice. It is about a revolution of love that is big enough to set both the oppressed and the oppressors free.”

American Christians standing in solidarity with the Jewish people should be the first to recognize the brutal impact on Palestinians of decades of Israel’s military rule and dispossession. One need not choose between Jews and Palestinians. If we seek the welfare of Israel, we must also advocate for Palestinians who have long languished without basic rights and who are now facing displacement, ethnic cleansing, and imminent genocide. If we oppose indiscriminate slaughter, we must repudiate it whether the perpetrator is Hamas militants or Israeli forces.

Violence does not make Israel more secure. Palestinian displacement only stirs up hatred and guarantees more hostility. We need, above all right now, a comprehensive ceasefire and a return of hostages. Beyond that, we must seek the path to a negotiated peace. The Land will not flourish until all its peoples enjoy equality, security and dignity.

Centuries ago, an Israelite poet, desperate for God’s deliverance, penned these words:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Do not be far from me, for trouble is near, and there is no one to help.”

Jesus echoed that cry of dereliction as he hung alone upon the cross. As we learned recently, the same cry resounds today.

“My God, My God, why have you forsaken Gaza? Why do you hide your face from Gaza?”

When the powers oppress, God’s people must stand with the oppressed and powerless.
Lament is not enough.