From the Rector
The Week of May 25, 2025
"…they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations" (Isa. 61:4).
+
Dear friends in Christ,
At the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute, visitors encounter a wall of questions near the end of the tour: “Have you ever marched to protest injustice?” “How have you coped with a bully?” “Who inspires you?” “How can we make the world a better place?” These questions call us to memory and conscience to remember that our struggle for justice continues.
As Christians, we're bound by Micah's call: "God has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?" (Mic. 6:8). Our Baptismal Vows commit us to "strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being."
I'm unsure what to do with my heartbreak and feeling of helplessness in the face of the ongoing genocide in Gaza.
In the 19 months since Israel's retaliation against Hamas for the worst terrorist attack in Israel’s history, Israel has dropped 85,000-100,000 tons of explosives on Gaza—nearly six times the force of the Hiroshima bomb. Over 52,928 Palestinians have been killed, 119,846 injured. Entire families have been erased. This isn't just humanitarian crisis—it's the systematic destruction and erasure of a people.
Gaza's 2.2 million residents face critical famine risk. Over 71,000 children under five are acutely malnourished. Mothers starve so their children might live. Infants perish for lack of clean water and medicine. Aid convoys are blocked and bombed.
Gaza's health system has collapsed. The WHO documented 686 attacks on healthcare, targeting hospitals and ambulances. Among the bombed facilities is the Al-Ahli Arab Hospital—Gaza's only Christian hospital, operated by the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem. These attacks killed over 900 people.
More than 1.9 million Gazans—90% of the population—have been forcibly displaced. Seventy-one percent of the land is uninhabitable. Gaza is being annihilated before our eyes.
Scripture commands us to protect the innocent, defend orphans and widows, shelter strangers. These aren't ideals to praise—they're imperatives, the substance of faith and evidence of true love of God.
Walking through the Civil Rights Institute, I remembered Isaiah's words: "Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?"
The Book of Common Prayer offers convicting words: "Look with pity, O heavenly Father, upon the people in this land who live with injustice, terror, disease, and death as their constant companions. Have mercy upon us" (Collect for the Oppressed, BCP 826).
To pray with integrity is to refuse despair's luxury. We must take up hope's armor, remembering God stands with the oppressed. To stand with the crucified is to stand where Christ stands.
How will we answer the questions on that wall? How will we answer God's call through the prophet that Jesus himself echoes: "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed" (Isa. 61:1; Luke 4:18).
We're in this struggle together, for we are our brother's keeper.
Yours in Christ's love,
Fr. Peter
