There are some pictures that never leave your mind. There are some voices that continue speaking long after the television has been turned off and the videotape has been put away. For me, one of those voices belongs to an Iraqi grandfather whom I never met.
During the war in Iraq, I produced and directed a television program called Issues in Indiana. Someone gave me a videotape showing the destruction the United States government was bringing upon Iraq. The scenes on that tape were not the clean, carefully selected pictures shown on the evening news. They showed what war looked like to the people underneath the bombs.
I watched interviews with ordinary Iraqi citizens. They were no different from the people living next door to me. They were mothers and fathers, grandparents and children. They worked, worried, laughed, prayed, and loved their families. They wanted their children to grow up. They wanted to live without fear.
One interview has remained with me through all the years since.
An Iraqi grandfather was holding the lifeless body of his grandson, a little boy about five years old. With tears in his eyes and grief breaking his voice, he asked why America had killed his grandson. That child had done nothing to America. He had threatened no soldier. He had carried no weapon. He had harmed no American. He was simply a little boy who should have been playing, laughing, learning, and growing up surrounded by those who loved him.
That grandfather asked a question our government could not answer:
“Why did America kill my grandson? What had he done to America?”
His story was not told by the mainstream American media. His grandson disappeared into a casualty total. He became one more number among thousands. Yet behind every number was a name. Behind every number was a family. Behind every number was a mother, father, or grandparent whose heart had been torn apart.
Governments speak of military operations, strategic objectives, national interests, acceptable losses, and collateral damage. Such language makes war sound clean and reasonable. But there was nothing clean or reasonable about that grandfather holding his dead grandson. Political language could not dry his tears, restore that child’s life, or answer his question.
Today I hear that same question rising from beneath the rubble of Gaza.
A Starting Date Without a History
Much of the American public was told that the present story began on October 7, 2023. What Hamas did that day was evil. The murder of Israeli civilians was wrong. The taking of hostages was wrong. No honest defense of Palestinian rights requires us to excuse the killing of innocent Israelis.
But October 7 did not occur in a historical vacuum.
Americans were seldom taught the full history of Palestinian displacement beginning in 1948, the military occupation that followed the 1967 war, the growth of Israeli settlements, the demolition of Palestinian homes, restrictions upon movement, imprisonment without trial, or the long blockade of Gaza. We were given a starting date, but not a history. We were shown the explosion, but not the pressure that had been building for generations.
If the American people had understood how Palestinians had been displaced, occupied, restricted, and mistreated for more than seventy years, I believe they would have demanded a different response in Gaza. Most Americans do not like bullies. When they understand the facts, they tend to sympathize with the underdog.
Israel is not the helpless underdog that its defenders have so successfully portrayed. The Israeli government possesses overwhelming military power, receives enormous financial and military support from the United States, and exercises immense control over Palestinian life. Yet a powerful public-relations effort has persuaded many Americans to associate the whole population of Gaza with terrorism.
Hamas is not the Palestinian people.
A child buried beneath a collapsed apartment building is not a terrorist. A mother searching for bread is not a terrorist. A doctor treating the wounded is not a terrorist. A journalist recording the destruction is not a terrorist. Palestinian Christians are not terrorists. Two million people cannot be stripped of their individuality and assigned collective guilt for the crimes of an armed organization.
This criticism must also be stated with care: I am speaking about the actions of the Israeli government, its military, and the political forces defending those actions. I am not condemning Jewish people. Many Jewish and Israeli voices have courageously opposed occupation, collective punishment, and the destruction of Gaza. Criticism of a government is not hatred of an ethnicity or religion.
Unequal Numbers and Unequal Grief
More than 73,000 Palestinians have been reported killed in Gaza. Compared with the approximately 1,200 people killed in Israel on October 7, that is roughly sixty Palestinian deaths for every death on that terrible day. If Israeli military deaths during the subsequent war are added, the ratio is lower, but the disproportion remains staggering. Thousands of Palestinians may still be beneath the rubble, and deaths caused indirectly by hunger, disease, exposure, and the collapse of medical care are not fully represented in the direct-death total.
Numbers alone, however, do not reveal the deepest injustice. There has also been unequal grief.
Israeli victims have often been presented to Americans as individuals. We learn their names, see their photographs, meet their families, and hear their personal stories. They should be remembered that way. Every innocent Israeli life is precious.
Palestinian victims, however, are too often presented as an anonymous mass. We hear that “the death toll has risen,” as though the dead were numbers rather than people and as though no one caused their deaths. Palestinian casualty figures are questioned while official military claims are often repeated. Israelis are “murdered” or “slaughtered,” while Palestinians simply “die” in an airstrike.
When the children of one people are individually mourned while the children of another people are reduced to disputed statistics, the public is quietly being taught that some lives matter more than others.
God does not accept that distinction.
The apostle Peter declared, “Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons” (Acts 10:34, KJV). An Israeli child and a Palestinian child possess equal worth before God. Their nationality does not increase or diminish the value of their blood.
The Silence of Evangelical Christianity
One of my greatest concerns is the silence of evangelical Christians. Many who preach that every unborn child is precious have closed their eyes to children killed after birth by American-made weapons. They speak loudly about innocent life when doing so supports a favored political cause, but become strangely quiet when innocent Palestinian children are buried beneath the ruins of their homes.
That is not a consistent defense of life. It is selective morality.
Some evangelical leaders have allowed Christian Zionism to replace the teaching of Jesus. They defend nearly every action of the modern Israeli government as though questioning a nation’s military policy were the same as questioning the Word of God. The modern State of Israel is a government. Like every other government, its actions must be judged by truth, justice, mercy, and the moral law of God.
The Church is not called to give any earthly government unconditional approval. Our allegiance belongs to Jesus Christ.
The Old Testament prophets did not remain silent when Israel shed innocent blood. They did not excuse injustice because Israel possessed a covenant history. They spoke more forcefully because those who claimed the name of God were accountable to His righteousness.
Isaiah cried, “And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you: yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of blood” (Isaiah 1:15, KJV).
If the prophets refused to overlook innocent blood, how can the evangelical Church overlook it today?
We cannot condemn the murder of Israeli children while defending the killing of Palestinian children. We cannot call one an atrocity and dismiss the other as collateral damage. We cannot claim to follow the Prince of Peace while blessing every bomb dropped by a government we have placed beyond moral examination.
Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God” (Matthew 5:9, KJV). He did not say, “Blessed are those who manufacture excuses for killing children.”
Children Sacrificed to the Gods of War
The United States government has sacrificed far too many children upon the altars of war. We may no longer call our idols Molech or Baal, but we continue offering innocent lives to the gods of military power, national pride, political ambition, and economic gain.
The psalmist spoke of those who “sacrificed their sons and their daughters unto devils, and shed innocent blood” (Psalm 106:37–38, KJV). We read those words and condemn the cruelty of ancient people, yet remain silent while bombs purchased with our tax dollars fall upon children in distant lands.
We disguise their deaths with respectable phrases. God does not see “collateral damage.” He sees children created in His image. He sees their blood, hears the cries of their parents, and remembers those responsible.
Scripture declares that among the things the Lord hates are “hands that shed innocent blood” (Proverbs 6:16–17, KJV). That condemnation applies to Hamas when it murders Israeli children. It applies to Israel when its weapons kill Palestinian children. It also applies to the United States when our government supplies the weapons, finances the destruction, protects those responsible from accountability, and then pretends that we bear no responsibility.
Many Americans remain silent because the children live far away, speak another language, or follow another religion. Distance does not make their blood less innocent. Nationality does not make their lives less valuable. Silence may protect our comfort, but it cannot hide injustice from God.
The Lord does not look upon the shedding of innocent blood with approval. He looks upon it with righteous anger. Nations may escape human courts through wealth, influence, and military power, but no nation escapes the judgment of God.
“Woe to him that buildeth a town with blood, and stablisheth a city by iniquity!” (Habakkuk 2:12, KJV).
A nation cannot continually sow bombs and expect to reap peace. It cannot shed innocent blood and expect the blessing of God. Judgment may not come according to our timetable, but Scripture gives us no reason to believe that God will forever overlook the killing of the innocent.
What Will the Church Do?
The question is not merely what Israel, Hamas, or the American government has done. The question is what the Church has done while it was happening.
Did we speak for those without a voice? Did we protest the killing of innocent people on both sides? Did we demand that our government stop financing the destruction? Did we pray for Palestinian families as earnestly as we prayed for Israeli families? Or did we turn away because the truth disturbed our politics and challenged our theology?
Proverbs commands us, “Open thy mouth for the dumb in the cause of all such as are appointed to destruction. Open thy mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy” (Proverbs 31:8–9, KJV).
The Church must open its mouth. We must condemn terrorism without blessing collective punishment. We must oppose antisemitism without excusing the oppression of Palestinians. We must pray for Jewish people and Muslim people, for Israelis and Palestinians, remembering that our enemies are souls to be saved—not people to be hated or children to be killed.
I still see that Iraqi grandfather holding his dead grandson. His question has followed me through the years. Today it is repeated by Palestinian fathers and mothers standing amid the ruins of Gaza:
“Why did they kill my child? What had my child done to deserve death?”
Military officials may offer explanations. Politicians may change the subject. News organizations may move on to another story. Preachers may remain silent because speaking could offend members of their congregations.
But God has heard the question.
The blood of innocent children cries from the ground. God hears that cry even when governments, churches, and news organizations refuse to hear it.
It is time for America to repent of its addiction to war. It is time for evangelical Christians to open their eyes, recover a consistent concern for innocent life, and follow the Prince of Peace. It is time to stop asking whether a dead child was Israeli or Palestinian, Iraqi or American, Jewish, Muslim, or Christian.
The question before us is much simpler:
Was this an innocent child created in the image of God?
If the answer is yes, then the Church must care enough to speak.