The Theology of the Airstrike

Part 2: The Theology of the Airstrike We have traded the Lamb who was slain for the lion who slays. We name our operations with the language of gods—Swords of Iron, Prosperity Guardian—as if we are the dispensers of divine justice. As if devastation is divine when we author it. Forgetting that when God finally came in the flesh, he did not bring fury. He brought a towel. He brought a cross. He brought a refusal to strike back. Crucifixion was a tool of empire. It was designed to demonstrate power, enforce control, and eliminate perceived threats under the cover of legality. Sound familiar? Christians ask, with straight faces: Who would Jesus bomb? Jesus was not the one authorising the violence. He was the one subjected to it.

The Weaponisation of the Table

Part 1: The Weaponisation of the Table If Jesus doesn’t have a litmus test for a traitor, why do we have one for a neighbour? The table is set. No purity tests at the door. No background checks. No border control. At the first Eucharist, the enemy is already at the table. Jesus does not remove him. He serves him. He washes the feet of the one who will hand him over to the state. We argue about the sanctity of the communion cup while our tax pounds—and our silent consent—help fill the cups of the broken-hearted in Yemen and Lebanon with the bitter wine of displacement. Who, exactly, are we excluding in his name?