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So many striking images from Gaza in this historic weekend One of the most powerful for me has been the long processions of people making their way back to whatever may be left of the towns and villages they fled in haste to save their lives.

Some move in eager anticipation of a new beginning, wondering whether their home might just have been spared among the colossal devastation.

Many dread what they might find, trembling at the prospect of what might be beneath the piles of rubble: the once treasured family mementos, but far worse the unburied casualties.

There is at least now the prospect of regular and sufficient food and fresh water; maybe the beginnings of adequate health care to succeed the heroic efforts of medics who daily put their lives on the line; safe places for children to learn and play; proper buildings to replace the tents in which they often shivered. Maybe a much-loved mosque or church will remain to offer spiritual sustenance and possibly make some sense of it all.

I wonder what the dominant feeling is among those in the ragged processions: or the Israeli families the other side of the border, desperate to embrace the loved ones held hostage for two years.

Is it anger and rage at what’s been done to them? Is it depression, grief, fear – or maybe an overwhelming sense of helplessness? Or persistent hope? A mixture of all of the above, I suspect.

Just as it is for many of us, looking on from a safe distance and sometimes uncomfortable to the point of distress that we’re apparently unable to do anything which would make a difference. That’s never the whole truth.

Being angry at injustice, for instance, is important to both Hebrew and Christian traditions. The prophets railed against powerful people who exploited their workers, oppressed the poor, and corrupted the law. Jesus rebuked religious leaders who twisted scripture for personal profit and used pretty strong language as he did so.

But our anger is meant to drive us to action which just might change some things for the better – often alongside others: the persecuted Venezuelan democracy advocate Maria Corina Machado did just that and was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize yesterday- to evident disappointment in the White House.

Christians are under instruction to ‘Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep,’ And keep on praying. That can lead us in some unexpected directions, but it should certainly be taking us to the dusty roads of Gaza, and grieving families everywhere.

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