Rome – Another sacred place has been struck. Another space that should be intangible, inviolable even in the brutality of war, has been reduced to rubble. The Church of the Holy Family in Gaza, the only Catholic presence in the Strip, was hit by an Israeli air raid this morning. The attack left eight injured, including two women who were initially believed dead, later resuscitated, but still in critical condition. Two men were also seriously wounded, and four others suffered minor injuries, among them the Argentinian priest, Father Gabriel Romanelli, a symbolic figure of the Christian presence in Gaza.

According to sources close to the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem, Israel reportedly claimed it was a case of “misfire”. But what does “error” really mean, when for months schools, hospitals, displaced persons’ tents, and civilian homes have been hit? When entire families are annihilated while looking for water or shelter among the rubble? Everything continues to be justified in the name of the fight against Hamas terrorists. But since when do terrorists wear doctor’s coats, carry children in their arms, pray in Catholic churches, or celebrate Mass? Since when are priests legitimate targets?

The word “error” sounds more and more like a hollow formula, repeated mechanically to cover the unacceptable. The words of the Prime Minister of the Italian Republic, Giorgia Meloni, are clear – at least this time: “The attacks against the civilian population that Israel has been demonstrating for months are unacceptable. No military action can justify such behavior.” But will these words, spoken after dozens of silences, be enough to fill the abyss of pain that widens each day? Is it enough to express outrage in front of the television and then fund and continue to support the military policy of Israel, which is carrying out a genocide in Gaza?

This morning’s news reads like a war bulletin that needs no commentary:

In Jabalia al-Balad, a man, his wife, and five children died under the bombs.
In al-Zeitoun, four dead and several wounded in a house next to a school.
In the al-Nuseirat refugee camp, four more were killed by artillery shelling.
In al-Bureij, a tent for displaced persons inside a school was hit: at least four dead.
Another civilian was killed in al-Nasr, near a gas station.

These are just a few names. Others we will never know. Others will not even have a stone with their name on it.

In Parliament, the leader of the Cinque Stelle Movement, Giuseppe Conte, used very harsh words: “A technical error? This isn’t a delayed train announcement — it’s what a government says after killing six children. This is called genocide.” His speech was not only a charge against the Israeli government, but also against Italy’s deafening silence: “Meloni, Salvini, Tajani: your children and your consciences will hold you accountable.”

Conte also condemned the memorandum of understanding between Italy and Israel, calling the behavior of the Jewish State “criminal”: “You make yourselves complicit in the violation of international law.” And he proposed: “Let’s nominate Francesca Albanese for the Nobel Peace Prize,” referring to the UN special rapporteur for the occupied Palestinian territories, targeted by Israel for her denunciations.

The pressing question now is this: how much longer can the West speak of human rights, of civilian protection, of religious freedom, while churches collapse, children die, and democratic governments look away — or worse, sign military and trade agreements?

When a priest is wounded in his church, when two women are buried alive under rubble because they thought God, at least, would not be a target, it is the whole world that ought to tremble. This is not a matter of religion. It is a matter of humanity. And it seems that in Gaza, today, humanity is the only truly absent thing.