None of this denies Jewish suffering or Jewish attachment to the land. Nor does it minimize the grave evil of antisemitism, which Christians must confront unequivocally. Biblical faithfulness requires moral consistency. Justice is not a zero-sum game. Praying for the peace of Jerusalem does not mean accepting the destruction of Gaza, and loving Israelis does not require ignoring the plight of Palestinians.
Hamas’s violence against civilians must be condemned without hesitation. But what is unfolding in Gaza is not merely tragedy; it is a human catastrophe. Gaza has been reduced to rubble. An entire people are being made to bear the cost of actions they did not choose.
When the church struggles to speak with clarity about this reality, young believers are left questioning whether the theology they inherited still reflects the heart of the gospel they were taught to trust.
Throughout Urbana, students spoke of friends who have left the church because they believe it has abandoned its prophetic voice. They described a growing disconnect between the Jesus who stood with the vulnerable and a Christian public witness that too often appears aligned with power and unmoved by pain.
Silence, in this moment, is not neutral. It communicates that some lives matter less, that some suffering is too inconvenient to name, and that our compassion has limits we are unwilling to cross.
My friend Aaron Abramson, the leader of Jews For Jesus, rightly underscored during the panel that this conversation was not about politics or picking a side. While naming Jewish trauma, he also affirmed that faithfulness to Scripture does not require silence about Palestinian suffering. We did not agree on every political conclusion, but we shared a commitment to human dignity and a gospel vision for our people.
That honesty is what students responded to most. Not unanimity, but integrity.
The church does not need another talking point. It needs courage. Courage to disentangle theology from nationalism. Courage to speak with compassion even when it is costly. Courage to listen to voices it has ignored for too long, including Palestinian Christians whose presence in the land predates modern political conflicts by centuries.
Most of all, it needs courage to trust that the gospel can withstand honesty.
At Urbana, I challenged students to show compassion and raise a prophetic voice. But perhaps the first faithful step is simpler: We must begin by listening.
Listening to the people of the land rather than speaking about them from a distance.
The students at Urbana are not asking the church for a political stance. They are asking whether the church will remain faithful to Christ.
Faithfulness in this moment does not require pastors to resolve a geopolitical conflict or master prophecy charts. It requires them to step off the sidelines and create space for honest wrestling shaped by Scripture and lived reality. When the gospel itself is at stake, silence is no longer an option.
