Article
Comment
Easter
Middle East
Resurrection
War & peace
7 min read

The Friday world of the Middle East at Easter

Violence begets violence in a zero sum world.

Todd  is the Executive Director and Co-Founder of Telos Group. It forms communities of American peacemakers across lines of difference and conflict, including Israel/Palestine. 

A family look at the concrete shell and remains of a bombed building.
Christian Aid.

What do the events of Holy Week and Easter---these seminal events in Christianity-- have to say in a time of slaughter and now starvation in the Middle East? The closer we get to Easter Sunday, the most sacred day in Christianity, the more I’ve wrestled with that question.  

I’m neither Palestinian nor Israeli, and so my connection to the historic tragedy continuing to unfold is not as visceral or as obvious as some.  But as an American and a Christian, I’m deeply bound up in all of this.  The realization of my own implication led me back in 2009 to co-found a nonprofit whose mission is to help Americans better understand the modern Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the American role in it, and to learn about the difficult work of honest peacemaking.  These past five months are a nightmare I can’t wake up from, and of course they’re more than a nightmare for the people in the south of Israel and the West Bank, and they’re an absolute hell on earth for the people in Gaza today.   

For more than 20 years I’ve lived in a set of deep relationships with both Palestinians and Israelis.  The horror and barbarity of the Hamas attacks on October 7th and the horror and devastation of the slaughter and starvation taking place unabated in Gaza even this Holy Week have left me begging God to intervene and begging our leaders to do whatever we can to stop the madness.  

Sometimes there’s a lot more of the darkness of Thursday and Friday than the joy and light of Easter Sunday morning.

In most of the 65 trips I’ve led to the Holy Land over the years, after we’ve had our heart broken by the stories we’ve heard and the experiences we’ve shared with people on all sides, we visit the place on the Mount of Olives looking at the Old City of Jerusalem where Jesus stopped, looked at the city, and wept. It is here, just as he entered what we call his Passion Week, that he said “Jerusalem, Jerusalem if only you’d known the things that make for peace.”  If only you’d known.  If only we’d known.  If only we knew.   

I need this story to be in the Bible. Many times I’ve had to fall back on Jesus weeping for the mess we’ve made of our lives, the way we allow our fears and our hatreds or our indifference to guide how we treat our neighbors, how often we use violence and power to deny the way they too bear the image of God.  

This is one of those times. The worst of those times in all the years I’ve been involved in Israel and Palestine.  I’ve found myself weeping privately, in conversations, and sometimes in public places.  And I’ve spent so much time asking God to intervene. To comfort the terrorized and afraid, to feed the starving, to silence the guns of war, to rescue and deliver those who are dying.  

And the answer I keep getting has felt like silence.  Deafening silence.  

At times like this, the Christian life feels like a Thursday night in a garden when your friends can't’ stay awake to help you and even God is not answering your prayer. Or it feels like a Friday afternoon in Jerusalem when all hope has died and you can’t imagine how the world will ever be better. Sometimes there’s a lot more of the darkness of Thursday and Friday than the joy and light of Easter Sunday morning.  

The work of justice and mercy make for peace. Revenge and violence do not. 

But Lent and Holy Week have given me another answer, beyond God’s silence--the reminder that the people in Israel and In Gaza, even those this very night who are displaced and starving, are not alone.  God is with them. And he weeps for them. And he weeps for us. If only we knew the things that make for peace.  If only we knew how to love God and to love our neighbor and to love our enemies. If only we knew the limits of violence to achieve good ends. If only we knew the connection between peace and justice.  

And the fullness of this Holy Week also brings me to this reminder that if God does not seem active maybe it’s because we are not listening to his call.  My friend Bill Haley says this:  

“The actual invitation of the Christian faith is not just to believe in Jesus or be like Jesus or tell others about Jesus (as right as these thing are), but actually to be the presence of Jesus in the world, our hands his hands, our feet his feet, our heart his heart, our bodies his very body...  By this does the reality of the risen, living Jesus continue to be displayed, visibly and tangibly, in and around the world (and yours and mine), day after day.” 

To do this we first seek to know the things that make for peace (and equally important is to know the things that don’t make for peace). The work of justice and mercy make for peace. Revenge and violence do not. The embrace of our mutuality and interconnectedness make for peace. Tribalism and dehumanization of our neighbors do not.  Justice and respect make for peace. Systems of domination and ideologies of hatred do not. Respect for the sacredness of life and the inherent dignity of all as made in the image of God make for peace. Brutality, murder, and starvation do not.  Acts of love and service make for peace. Fear and self-centeredness do not.  

The Friday world is zero sum.  Justice and peace are separate things.  Some lives are more important than others.

In a Good Friday world, to live as if these “things that make for peace” are actually true is a costly endeavor.  Jesus paid with his life.  Others like Martin Luther King have also. For most of us, it may just be the way our reputation suffers, or how certain relationships are strained.  There may be some economic cost or sacrifice of our time and attention required. But if it says anything, Holy Week teaches us that incarnational living is costly.  Reconciliation comes at a price. The crucifixion wasn’t just something that happened to Jesus on the way to resurrection.  It is central to it.  

And yet, believers in Jesus know that Holy Week and the shame, humiliation, brutality and injustice of the crucifixion were not the last word.  To borrow from the legendary Black preacher S.M. Lockridge, we live in a Friday world, but we know that Sunday’s coming.  

In a world of Fridays, violence begets violence.  The Friday world is zero sum.  Justice and peace are separate things.  Some lives are more important than others. There is minimal cost to looking away from people who are hungry and imprisoned.  Religion is used to baptize injustice.  We live in a Friday world.  But we are Sunday people.  And we are called to live as best we can as reminders that in a Sunday world we are responsible for what we know, responsible to each other, and responsible before God. To quote Dr. King again, in a Sunday world, "darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."   

Sunday people are Easter people.  And Easter people have a mandate to live as peacemakers in a world riven by conflict. To be purveyors of light and hope in a time of devastation and despair.  Frederick Douglass said “I prayed for freedom for 20 years, but received no answer until I prayed with my legs.”  As we pray for peace, and we have to be people who pray for peace, let us also be agents of God’s peace.  Let us be those incarnational Easter people who pray for peace with our legs.  Let us do the urgent work for a lasting ceasefire, for a release of all hostages, and for food for hungry people.  And when the guns are silenced and the hungry are at last being fed and the wounded and traumatized are given space to heal, then the greater work begins.  Let us learn the lessons of how we got here and let us commit ourselves to a different path forward, one grounded in the sacred dignity of all the people of the land, Palestinians and Israelis alike.  Let us support all those who seek justice and peace and security through the path of mutual flourishing.  These are the things that make for peace. 

 

Article
Church and state
Creed
Leading
Politics
Weirdness
5 min read

The one thing the new Archbishop can offer the world

How an unlikely argument between the Pope and Madonna points the way for the new Archbishop of Canterbury

Graham is the Director of the Centre for Cultural Witness and a former Bishop of Kensington.

An archbishop crowns the king.
The archbishop crowns the king.

The Catholic News Agency is a news outlet whose Instagram account posts warm pictures of the Pope, Catholic saints and so on, with heart-warming, if a little anodyne, quotations. A week or so ago, it sparked one of the most unlikely social media spats in recent times - an argument between Madonna (no, not the Virgin Mary) and Pope Leo himself.

With the announcement of Sarah Mullally as the 106th Archbishop of Canterbury, this debate may have something to say to her as she moves from London (where I knew her well and worked with her as a fellow bishop) to Lambeth.

The CNA had posted a picture of a smiling, waving Pope Leo with the caption: “My priority is the Gospel, not solving the world’s problems.” It referred to an interview in which the Pope had said: “I don’t see my primary role as trying to be the solver of the world’s problems… although I think that the Church has a voice, a message that needs to continue to be preached, to be spoken and spoken loudly.”

The comments below were predictable, ranging from “This is a God-inspired pope!” to “The pope is irrelevant’ – and much worse. But among the 2000 or so comments was one by Madonna herself: “The whole point of teaching and learning the Gospel is to inspire people to love one another and make the world a better place. Not just with words but with actions, which is exactly what Jesus did. I am truly disappointed by this.”

Madonna has always had an odd relationship with the Catholic Church, and this was not the first time she has engaged with Pope Leo (or his predecessor Francis for that matter) online. But the story still went viral.

So - back to soon-to-be Archbishop Sarah.

She certainly faces a challenging inbox - divisions among Anglicans over sexuality that threaten to tear the Anglican Communion apart; safeguarding scandals; the ructions that being a female Archbishop will raise for traditionalists within the Church of England and with the Catholics and the Orthodox; the rise of Christian Nationalism, criticism of the Church’s commitment of £100m for reparations for slavery, not to mention the continue decline of Anglican congregations around the country.

So what should her priorities be as she starts her role?

I must confess I’m on Pope Leo’s side in this one. Unsurprisingly, the scholarly Augustinian Pope is a better theologian than the singer of ‘Like a Prayer’.

Pope Leo went on to say: “The values that the Church will promote in dealing with some of these world crises don’t come out of the blue, they come out of the Gospel. They come from a place that makes very clear how we understand the relationships between God and us, and between one another. Going back to the very basic things of respecting one another, respecting human dignity: where does that human dignity come from and how can we use that as a way of saying the world can be a better place, and we can treat one another better?”

It is the job of politicians – not the Church - to work out the precise policies and mechanisms that will deliver a better society. Yet of course that begs the question: what does ‘better’ mean? And that is where the church does have something to say.

Pope Leo’s point is that if the Church does make political interventions, they have to arise strictly from the very heart of its own faith. Christian leaders shouldn't get too involved in detailed policy recommendations, but they can outline their vision of what a good life together looks like, based on the story of the gospel itself.

The one thing that the church has to offer the world is Jesus - in other words, the remarkable, world-shattering belief that God the Creator entered human history, like an author stepping on to the stage of his own play. Yet he did it in the most unexpected way possible, without fanfare, simply showing a radical, determined, self-giving love, dying an excruciating death at human hands and rising from death as the first sign that death is nothing to be afraid of because it has been beaten once and for all.

To believe that is weird. It changes everything – life is not a search for wealth, friends and success but for holiness and wisdom. It is not a search for self-fulfilment but a radical turn away from self-centredness to a growing love for God our Maker. The poor not the wealthy are the ones who matter. We are held in the hands of a God whose love for us is endless. The universe is not impersonal and silent but pulses with love. Evil is a force trying to undo everything that God has created. Death is just the gateway to something far better for those who believe.

Tom Holland put it like this this: “If you're a Christian, you think that the heart of the entire fabric of the cosmos was ruptured by this strange singularity where someone who is a God and a man set everything on its head.”

And paradoxically, it is by focusing on that extraordinary message, that the Church can play its part in helping unravel some of the other problems, whether in the Church or the world.

Pope Leo was right. And maybe this is the advice for our new Archbishop: don’t start out by trying to change the world. Start with the gospel. It’s all we have to offer. Teach it, remind the church and the world of it. Use imagination, creativity, social media – whatever.

You may end up solving the world’s problems, you may not. The early Christians didn’t march on Rome, petitioning Caesar for new laws on migration across the empire or fairer treatment for slaves. They simply lived out their faith, creating communities that included everyone, worshipped Jesus and excluded idolatry. They taught, learned and lived the gospel. And eventually the world was changed.

So our new Archbishop will and must talk about immigration, assisted dying, poverty and other political issues, but she must make sure it’s always rooted in something Christian. Or as St Paul put it: “Proclaim the message, whether the time is favourable or unfavourable. Always be sober, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, carry out your ministry fully.”

And let the rest of us encourage her in doing that as well as she can.

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