Notes from a Christian Caught Between the Tribes in Gaza’s Shadow
“If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much…”
—Rudyard Kipling, If—
War is hell, but online discourse about war is madness. And if you truly understand the stakes of violence – if you value human beings as the Gospel tells us to – then you’re probably feeling a lot like I do now. Maddened.
As Gaza burns, we in the Western world find ourselves wandering in a maddening nightmare of narratives, caught between the trenches in an endless series of soft skirmishes that do nothing meaningful whatsoever to halt the heavy hands of real villains or to bring relief to real victims.
The loudest voices today aren’t in military bunkers, after all, or even in the offices of government officials who have any real say. No, these chatterers are found in group texts, in pulpits, at DC think tanks, and on our social media feeds. And these shadowboxers – far away from any battlefront – will call to you: Whose side are you on?
My honest answer? I’m on the side of the Imago Dei – the image of God made manifest in every human person, and made more like the Crucified Lord with every weapon aimed against him.
I know that’s not a good enough answer for most tribes. But I’m more convinced than ever it’s the only answer Christ and His followers can give.
I Know These People
I have old friends in the Zionist camp – Jews and Christians whose lives have been shaped by the memory of pogroms, the Shoah, and the fragile hope of a Jewish homeland. They see Israel not as an idea, but as a real refuge from real and mortal dangers. I know their hearts, not because of any great insight or empathy on my part, but because they’ve granted me the honor of opening their hearts to me themselves. I’ve stood with them. I love them.
I have brothers who are what I call “Zionist Bros. – men who are unapologetically pro-life, pro-2nd Amendment, pro-America, and pro-Israel. I’ve prayed with them, marched with them, defended life with them. They post images of tender unborn children and ruthless Israeli bombings in the same thread. They mean well. But their moral math sometimes terrifies me.
I know the Christian Zionists too – those whose Bibles are marked up from Genesis to Revelation. For them, supporting Israel is not optional. It’s a spiritual duty. Their theology, though sincerely held, is heretical and has been systematically weaponized to harm women and children. For them, every bomb dropped on Gaza is one step closer to the return of Christ.
And now… Now, I have new friends. Palestinian friends. They are Christians, Muslims, and human rights workers. Pro-Palestinian activists. Some are secular, some devout, all wounded. I’ve sat across from them, listened to stories of death, displacement, betrayal.
And I find myself in the middle. Respected, perhaps. But as Kipling put it: counted on “none too much.”
What Tribe Is Left for the Christian?
My Zionist friends think I’ve gone soft.
My pro-Palestinian friends think I’m hedging.
My fellow Catholics wonder why I won’t just stay quiet.
Some activists think I’m a traitor. Some bishops think I’m naïve.
And maybe I am.
But I will not lie.
I will not pretend that Hamas is anything other than a terror group, as some who call themselves “pro-Palestinian” do.
I will not pretend that bombing refugee camps is self-defense, as some Zionists do.
I will not pretend that civilians can be tallied like prices worth paying – mere collateral damage.
I will not pretend that every Palestinian is a terrorist, or that every Israeli is righteous.
I will not trade one child’s life for another’s justice.
I will not cheer for bombs.
I will not utter the phrase “both-sides” in response to the discovery of mass graves.
I will not sanctify vengeance.
I will not reduce people to points on a map or statistics in a thread.
I will not give my soul to any tribe but the Body of Christ.
The Gospel Doesn’t Fit in a Propaganda Campaign
Jesus was not a nationalist.
He didn’t say “Blessed are those with the biggest rallies.”
He said “Blessed are the peacemakers.”
He didn’t say “Love those who agree with you.”
He said “Love your enemies.”
The Gospel is not a propaganda tool.
It is a rebuke to every empire, every ideology, every tribe that uses human bodies as leverage and truth as a weapon.
And the Gospel calls us not to stand with power and influence or with “winsome” speakers or with the influencers who spout the best comebacks on social media.
And so I stand with the child in Rafah.
I stand with the hostage in Gaza.
I stand with the mother burying her son in a shallow grave.
I stand with the priest handing out water under drones.
I stand with the nun holding orphans.
I stand with the medic who weeps when the bombs fall.
I stand with the IDF reservist, alone back at his apartment in Tel Aviv – crushed, haunted, and battling against ultimate despair.
I stand with the angels who record every name, every wound, every lie.
I stand with the Lamb – not the lion, not the flag, not the tribe, not the trending taking point.
And I say all this not from some perch of moral superiority.
I have the same tribal reflexes. I hear the same voices in my own head that my brothers in the tribes above are giving voice to – the voices that want to win, to pick a side, to be right. I battle them daily. And I’m grateful for them. Because without those inner voices – shaped by my old friends, my mentors, my brothers – I wouldn’t know how to weep for “the other side.”
Their loyalty gave me the gift of empathy. Their conviction gave me eyes to see. I don’t reject them. I carry them with me into this gray and grieving place. The place of the skull of Adam and the Cross of Christ.
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
“If” by Rudyard Kipling