Speak out for those who cannot speak,
    for the rights of all the destitute.
Speak out; judge righteously;
    defend the rights of the poor and needy.

Proverbs 31:8-9

I was a student at Southwestern College in Winfield in 1990, when the first Gulf War erupted. And I protested the heck out of it.

I even organized a candlelight march from campus to the Vietnam memorial in downtown Winfield. Imagine my shock when our large group of students, professors, and children were met with police in riot gear!

Nothing happened. It was a peaceful protest, complete with prayers for soldiers and calls for an end to war. The police were very respectful, and the wary townspeople watching in their pickup trucks across the street went home after seeing our intentions.

I think back to that person, me, from 30 years ago, and I wonder. What happened to him? I see students protesting and counter-protesting on campuses across the country and my response has been…

Not much of one.

• Is it that I’ve gotten old? That the edges have softened and activism like that seems like something for youngsters to do?
• Is it that I’m not sure who to protest? As I see it, both Hamas and Israel have abdicated responsibility to protect innocent lives. Killing hostages and bombing hospitals–there’s not a lot to root for on either side of this decades-long conflict.
• Is it that I’ve grown cynical? None of my marching at the capital in Topeka shortened the war. Today, a few Universities have agreed to divest from Israel, but the impact of such decisions seems uncertain. Is it even worth the work of taking a stand?
• Is it that I don’t want to offend? I feel caught in a crossfire — as if the only two choices are to be antisemitic or Islamophobic.

Honestly, maybe it’s a bit of all of the above. Or just a general sense of apathy about the sorry state of the world. After all these years, maybe my faith in humanity is not what it was 30 years ago.

What about my faith in God? Is God impotent in the face of war? Or rather, as I believe deep down, is God calling me to be an instrument of peace–even in a complicated and wicked conflict like the one happening in the Mideast?

If that’s true, then I’ve fallen down on the job. I’ve averted my gaze from the atrocities. I think this conflict has brought out the worst on both sides, at the great cost of the people caught in the middle. The destruction is terrible. The loss of life is inexcusable. The solution? I don’t know. The painful work of resolution has yet to even begin. But there are some things that I DO know, and must be vocal about:

Hostage taking must stop. Bombing hospitals must stop. Killing of children and civilians and journalists–it simply must stop. Oppression and isolation must stop. Terrorism must stop.

I will not look away. I don’t know how to untangle this mess, but to avert my Gaze at Gaza is to turn my back to God. I’m still struggling to know how to respond, but I am sharing this devotion as my prayer and my protest, sent out into the world. It’s a start. You can share this too, if you want.

Lord, may I reclaim the passion of my youth, tempered with the wisdom of my age, bolstered by the courage of your love and call. Help me find my voice to speak to the injustice of this world.

Above all, continue to remind me that

I can’t object

to what I refuse to see.

Have a good week,

Mitch