667 DAYS: a lamentation for a Church distracted by debate

If, after 667 days of Gaza’s groaning,
we are still entangled in the courtroom of blame—
Who started it?
Who suffered more?
What is truth?
What is propaganda?
Who is righteous?
Who is guilty?

If our eyes remain locked on each other
while the wounded wait in silence,
then we have not missed Christ’s heart by inches—
but by miles,
by lifetimes,
by crucifixions.

667 days have passed,
and still our voices rise—
not in prayer,
not in anguish,
but in argument.

Questions become quarrels,
quarrels become judgments,
and judgments gather stones—
not to build,
but to cast.

Or worse:
to build altars to our certainty,
while the forsaken lie buried
beneath the rubble of our opinions.

Christ does not weep for lack of clarity—
He weeps for the absence of love.

His heartbeat is not found
in the echo chambers of conviction,
but in the scandal of grace,
in the quiet courage of compassion,
in arms that open
before minds have made up their case.

Lord, interrupt us.

Shatter our cycles of certainty.
Unteach us the need to be right.
Teach us again
how to bleed with the broken,
how to rise with the crucified,
how to walk with You
into the places we fear to see.