I am far from home today. So far. A 6 hour flight to be exact. On the opposite side of this giant country. This bully of a country. And I am watching the news come in. Palestinians herded and corralled into the most densely populated corner of the globe and then bombed. And some folks think this is what God wants. They think it deeply with their whole being. And I have never felt further away from God in my life. Not just because church going politicians are signing bombs with hearts, though that has my stomach churning. But because so many people in my life are so very quiet. And it feels like God is quiet. Or sleeping. Or on vacation. As Rafah burns there are so many quiet people. From George Floyd until now, I feel like I have watched the faith I grew up with be choked and burned as the people who claim to be the hands and feet of God say and do so little. I think of the whole concept of Jesus on Earth. I think of the life depicted in the gospels where he constantly walks into politically charged situations with such a clarity of purpose. I think about Jesus in the homes of centurions, prostitutes, and tax collectors - calm while people accuse him of this or that kind of ideological misstep. I think of Jesus angry, whip in hand, turning over tables in the temple while people try to get him to be calm. He was not what they had prepared for. I think to myself, THAT version of Jesus would know what to do while Rafah is on fire. I wish I could find him.