From the lament:
Look at the eyes of men and women in the photos from Gaza.
See the face of forsakenness.
And then, there is the silence of the tomb that echoes from Gaza and across the globe. I weep for those families. I pray for the nearly 1500 people injured who cannot be cared for properly because of the blockade of medical supplies and electricity. How well will their wounds be tended to with such scarcity?
I will still look for the Risen Christ at the margins in the Easter story, for the One who died at the hands of deal-making governments looking to enforce the peace of the day, the Pax Romana of the occupation. Mark's Gospel tells us that the Risen One has gone home to Galilee, to be near the people who knew him best and for whose sake he came. The Risen Christ is somehow there in Gaza. This afternoon those affirmations feel like ashes in the mouth.
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