Much of the killing in Gaza has stopped. All we have are remnant cries of mothers hunching at child limbs lost, of fathers sobbing at houses bashed, and tears of babes in tearless awe. The Muslim missiles across Jewish borders are nearly hushed. All we have are remembrances of cowered Jews bunkered underground, awaiting metal into waiting flesh, and blood-splattered men rushed to scalpels ready. All that's left is a cratered faith in Abraham.
I once knelt beside Muslim hands that opened up to Allah and aimed terror's praise at Hamas. I once sat beside Jewish fingers that pointed to God and piously dug into the ground of Islam's envy. I witnessed covenants that were choosing rocks.
Religion is moving no mountains. We are wearing dynamite and driving the tank, sending the drone and hurling the knife. We are building homes and hating him who covets what we possess. We are insisting it is our own God who'll win, while planting bombs to clear His way. We stack our walls and carve our tunnels, shouting our pieties and boastful creeds, hoping that they split the souls of those who don't believe.
Once upon in Gaza, Samson fell, and in turn his vengeance upon the Philistine fell. Today in Gaza the Jewish hammer falls, and from there the falling Muslim rockets land. In Gaza we see the Old Testament tale, where murder is faith.
My religion looks back with pride and front with fear. Can we at last grab our patch of dirt and fruit, and in humble work feed our mouths? Bowing not to Heaven but to ourselves. I pray my faith may one day touch the lips of all lovers and babes, and damn the gods of Arabs and Jews, and believe in no one and in nothing but the kiss. So help me God.
Steve Posner is the author of "Israel Undercover: Secret Warfare and Hidden Diplomacy in the Middle East." His latest book is "Spiritual Delights and Delusions: How to Bridge the Gap between Spiritual Fulfillment and Emotional Realities." Visit his website at steveposner.com