Josh Hinton writes: War overseas is a spur to be peacemakers in our own nation.
‘You will hear of wars and rumours of wars’, Jesus told his disciples as he neared his crucifixion (Matthew 24:6). In the darkness before his return, humans would tear one another apart again and again. This week, our news feeds have brought us not just rumours but high-definition footage of war. Israel and Iran are bombing each other.
The speed with which media outlets now deploy the word ‘war’ is telling. Born in the mid-90s – the so-called ‘end of history’ – I grew up with softer terms: ‘conflict’, ‘crisis’, ‘targeted strikes’. War felt like a relic, distant and abstract. But it never truly left. It has always lived in the human heart. We were merely insulated – by borders, privilege, and language.
This article is from the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity section on Connecting with Culture
That insulation has worn through. After Ukraine, Gaza, Syria, Yemen, and Sudan, euphemism no longer suffices. When heavily armed nations strike each other’s capitals, a spade must be called a spade. War is not returning. It was always here. Some of us just stopped saying so.
And yet, writing from a comfortable train in sleepy Cheshire, part of me still asks, ‘What’s it got to do with me?’ That’s partly a defence mechanism, a wilful hope that ignoring the pain will stop it touching me. But it’s also complacency, a failure to draw the line between rockets smashing into Middle Eastern apartments and the day-to-day world I inhabit.
In one sense, the web of finance, politics, and power that produces war is highly complex. But in another, the thing that causes people to kill is bone-headedly simple: we humans crave peace and security, and we can be scared, greedy, vindictive, and foolish. The fact that there’s food in my local Morrison’s and money in my bank account doesn’t mean that isn’t true of me. That I don’t know where I’d shelter from a rocket attack is just a matter of circumstance.
When we hear news of war, our response should start with supporting those directly affected, whether by praying for a just end to conflict, lobbying those in power, giving to aid agencies, or welcoming refugees. But it shouldn’t stop there. We need to be peacemakers in our own daily lives. We need to invite the Holy Spirit to root hatred out of us. We need to demonstrate Christ’s sacrificial love, fostering a culture of trust and selflessness in the UK’s workplaces, streets, and communities.
As the church, we must carry God’s grace into every sphere of our society – because as the bombs drop on Tel Aviv and Tehran, there but for the grace of God go we.
Josh is Head of Communications at LICC.
This article is from the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity section on Connecting with Culture