Good Friday: The Dark Night of the Soul Rev. Dr. Mae Elise Cannon
And when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, “E′lo-i, E′lo-i, la′ma sabach-tha′ni?” which means, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” (Mark 15:33-34)
Today – Good Friday – marks the crucifixion of Christ. His brutal death included crying out to God and asking “why have you forsaken me?” After suffering the pain of crucifixion, the Gospel of John confirms Jesus’ last words, “It is finished” (19:30).
In Christian tradition, the three days between Maundy Thursday and Easter morning are known as the Triduum. Three days committed to prayer – a reminder to all that for a time darkness triumphed. The three days of Paschal Triduum are committed to prayer, a willingness to spiritually enter into the darkness, and reflection about the saving acts of grace extended to humanity through Christ’s death on the cross.
For many spiritual saints – this darkness – the finality of death and separation from God – can seem a regular part of religious life. St. John of the Cross wrote The Dark Night of the Soul about his own spiritual crisis and his experience of separation from God. The Christian world was rocked in 2003 when word began to circulate a few years after Mother Teresa’s death that she too had a dark night that lasted almost 50 years over the course of her ministry in Calcutta and around the world.
What might we have to learn from this darkness? Mother Teresa prayed that God would allow her to “drink from the chalice” of his pain in order to better understand his suffering. And yet her writings and letters found in Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light tell of how she cried out to God, “Father, I want to tell you how – how my soul longs for God – for him alone, how painful it is to be without Him.”
Some students and scholars of Mother Teresa assert that her great love and the power of her ministry were compelled by the struggles of her inner darkness. She entered into the most painful of earthly places and sought to bring refuge, comfort, and love. Many may not be familiar with Mother Teresa’s work in the Middle East in that regard.
In the middle of the Lebanese Civil War, in 1982, the Mother of the Calcutta slums went to Lebanon and rescued 100 orphans who were disabled and ill. Through prayer and determination, even in the midst of her own internal spiritual darkness, she was able to obtain a ceasefire and evacuate the children. In a conversation with a local priest in midst of the violence of the Lebanese Civil War, he exhorted her about how a rescue was not possible and this was her response:
“But Father, it is not an idea. I believe it is our duty. We must go and take the children one by one. Risking our lives is in the order of things. All for Jesus. All for Jesus. You see, I’ve always seen things in this light. A long time ago, when I picked up the first person (from a street in Calcutta), if I had not done it that first time, I would not have picked up 42,000 after that. One at a time, I think … “
Through prayer, faith, and negotiations led by Philip Habib, US Special Envoy to the Middle East sent by President Ronald Reagan, a ceasefire was brokered and 100 of Lebanon’s most vulnerable children were saved.
What might we learn from the darkness of Mother Teresa? Even in the midst of spiritual dryness, she continued to be faithful to the mission and God’s calling on her life. Her steadfast faithfulness and obedience in responding to the needs of the least of these never wavered in the darkness. This is my prayer for all of us at Churches for Middle East Peace (CMEP). Many times it feels like war rages all around us – from Ukraine to Syria. Humanitarian needs and economic devastation prevail from the streets of Lebanon to the shores of Gaza, to the famine in Yemen. We read about military campaigns and violence daily in the news coming out of the Middle East. In many ways, the world around us – including in the Middle East – is in the midst of a Dark Friday moment. Seemingly death has prevailed.
May we follow the lead of saints who have gone before us like Mother Teresa and maintain our steadfast commitment to doing good. Seeking out the presence of God even in the darkness where He cannot be found. May God go before us.
A prayer of Mother Teresa in the midst of the darkness:
I did not know that love could make one suffer so much… of pain human but caused by the divine. The more I want him, the less I am wanted. I want to love him as he has not been loved, and yet there is that separation, that terrible emptiness, that feeling of absence of God.
They say people in hell suffer eternal pain because of the loss of God… In my soul I feel just this terrible pain of loss, of God not wanting me, of God not being God, of God not really existing. That terrible longing keeps growing, and I feel as if something will break in me one day. Heaven from every side is closed.
I feel like refusing God.
Pray for me that I may not turn a Judas to Jesus in this painful darkness.
Hope and Deliverance in Jesus’ Triumphal Entry Rev. Dr. Mae Elise Cannon
As he was now drawing near, at the descent of the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”– Luke 19:37-38
Today the town of Bethany can be found on the eastern slopes of the Mount of Olives. The village, on the Palestinian side of the separation barrier, is known in Arabic as العيزرية or Al-ʿAyzariyyah – the place of Lazarus – for it is where Mary and Martha’s brother was raised from the dead by the person of Jesus. Today many aspects of the modern Palestinian village seem quite distant from the hope of resurrection. The streets are full of piles of refuse, burning garbage, and other signs of neglect because of a lack of services and infrastructure. Bethany is in Area C – a segment of the occupied Palestinian territories (oPt) under Israeli civil and security control. While Israel is responsible for civil services, few if any are provided.
Formerly a thriving East Jerusalem enclave, Bethany today is cut off economically, socially, and in many other ways from the hundreds of thousands of Palestinian residents of the city of Jerusalem. Once walkable, East Jerusalem schools and hospitals are now out of reach and unemployment has risen since the building of the wall in the early 2000s. Crime has also risen in the city because of a lack of government involvement and intervention. Bethany exists as a community increasingly desolate, suffering repercussions from the decades-long occupation of the Palestinian people.
What would the celebration of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem say to the residents of a community like Al-‘Ayzariyyah?
Jesus’ entry into the sacred city of Jerusalem on the back of a donkey did not represent the “triumphal entry” that many expected. Where was the strident warrior king who would lead the Jewish people to victory and deliverance? Rather this humble son of a carpenter chose the lowliest of animals upon which to make the declaration of his Messianic mission. Some studied witnesses of the event would have understood Jesus’ humble mode of transportation as a fulfillment of the prophecy of Zechariah: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! … Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey…” (9:9).
Jesus met people during his day in the midst of their circumstances. He responded to Mary and Martha when they let him know of Lazarus’ illness by saying, “This illness is not unto death; it is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified by means of it” (John 11:4). Later Christ wept at the hearing of Lazarus’ death… only then to redefine reality and bring his friend back to life (John 11:35).
Similarly, the purpose of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem celebrated on Palm Sunday symbolizes the declaration of him as the Messiah. The triumphal entry marks the momentous occasion where Jesus was acknowledged as the “King” of the Jews who came “in the name of the Lord” (Luke 19:38). While the people continued to expect a military victory over their oppressors, instead Jesus’ entry marked the beginning of the Passion of Christ – his suffering, death, and resurrection – that is celebrated during Holy Week.
This year as we wave our olive branches in church and remember Jesus’ journey down the Mount of Olives – may we hold in our hearts the people who live in that community today – including the Palestinian residents of Bethany living under occupation. Hope in Jesus’ day did not come the way that people expected. Rather God’s goodness and mercy were revealed in the humblest of circumstances.
Through Jesus, hope and deliverance prevailed.
May this be our prayer as we together pursue peace and justice in the Middle East.
Humble, Lord Jesus. Peace in heaven and glory to the highest. You are worthy of all praise and honor. You are the God of empathy and love. You are the God of comfort and joy. You are the God of peace and justice. As we worship you on this commemoration of your triumphal entry, be with those who have yet to experience relief from their earthly suffering. Come alongside those who live in isolation and difficult circumstances. Bring your hope and deliverance to all people. In the name of Christ. Amen.
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Rev. Dr. Mae Elise Cannon is the executive director of Churches for Middle East Peace and an ordained pastor in the Evangelical Covenant Church (ECC). Cannon formerly served as the senior director of Advocacy and Outreach for World Vision U.S. on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC; as a consultant to the Middle East for child advocacy issues for Compassion International in Jerusalem; as the executive pastor of Hillside Covenant Church located in Walnut Creek, California; and as director of development and transformation for extension ministries at Willow Creek Community Church in Barrington, Illinois. Cannon holds an MDiv from North Park Theological Seminary, an MBA from North Park University’s School of Business and Nonprofit Management, and an MA in bioethics from Trinity International University. She received her first doctorate in American History with a minor in Middle Eastern studies at the University of California (Davis) focusing on the history of the American Protestant church in Israel and Palestine and her second doctorate in Ministry in Spiritual Formation from Northern Theological Seminary. She is the author of several books including the award-winning Social Justice Handbook: Small Steps for a Better World and editor of A Land Full of God: Christian Perspectives on the Holy Land. Her work has been highlighted in The New York Times, The Washington Post, CNN, Chicago Tribune, Christianity Today, Leadership Magazine, The Christian Post, Jerusalem Post, EU Parliament Magazine, Huffington Post, and other international media outlets.
Seeds Planted on Fertile Soil By Rev. Dr. Mae Elise Cannon, Executive Director at CMEP
“But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty, or thirty times what was sown.” (Matthew 13:23)
Many years ago, when I lived in Jerusalem, I was shocked that the Jericho Road into the “wilderness” was a desert full of rocky soil. I grew up on the east coast of the United States and our wilderness was wooded terrain with lots of trees and hidden beasts like black bears and wolves. Or at least that’s what I feared when I was a child! The soil of the Middle East shocked me. The rolling hills of the Judean wilderness do not have fertile soil, but rather rocky sandy terrain where it is difficult for anything to grow.
Some of you may be horticulturists who will challenge my assertion about plants not growing in the desert as there are some incredible desert flowers that defy the harsh conditions and bloom into beautiful colors and specimens – such as the crown anemone (most likely the lily of the field mentioned by Jesus in Matthew 6:28), the tumbleweed gundelia, or the toxic Golden henbane. Despite these exceptions, Jesus was clear in his parable of the good sower that seeds planted in good soil will “bear fruit and yield plenty.”
Clearly, in the Scripture, the parable of the good sower provides a metaphor for someone who “hears the word and understands it,” but what does this story teach us about our work for peace and justice in the Middle East?
I believe this parable is about what it means for us to be “good soil” – ready and prepared, in a posture of willingness to embrace God’s good news for all people – a message of love, acceptance, justice, and reconciliation. There are times in my life I can look back on and acknowledge that the soil of my heart was hard and rocky, unreceptive and not loving towards those who hold opposing views. What does it mean for someone to be loving while not compromising on holding fast to core values and practices of human rights and justice?
This question became very profound for me several years ago. I was working for an international development organization and often led multi-narrative experiences in Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories for conservative Christians from the United States. We sought to have speakers and guests from across the spectrum related to Israeli politics and Palestinian perspectives. No one voice, thought, or idea is monolithic within either society. Our goal was to honor every person’s individual experience and narrative while still addressing the devastating effects of the occupation, the repercussions of settlement expansion, limits to mobility for Palestinians living in Jerusalem, the West Bank, and Gaza, and other such realities.
One speaker’s views and perspectives were antithetical to my own. I abhorred his politics and views toward the Palestinian people. At the end of his presentation, I couldn’t even shake his hand. My heart was hard, I was filled with rage and grief that Palestinians in the audience had been asked to listen to his racist stories and perspective. After the meeting, I was overwhelmed. First, I asked forgiveness from the Palestinians in the room. How could I have welcomed a speaker who reinforced so many false narratives about them and their people? My second thought was an overwhelming conviction that I was not living out one of the core teachings of Jesus. Love your enemy.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:43-45)
This Lent as we reflect upon what it means for us to be fertile soil upon which seeds can be planted, and grow, and prosper – what does it mean for us to hear and do the word of God that calls us to “love our enemies?” What does it mean for us to love all people – even those with whom we completely disagree? I believe the transforming power of God allows us to transcend human limitations – so that we can become people who love boldly, while not compromising on pursuing truth, goodness, reconciliation, and justice.
I believe a part of the answer to what it means to love our enemies is to enter into the paradox of both loving people with whom we disagree while working to respond to injustices they may perpetuate. This can look like sitting across a table from someone who holds positions different than your own. This might mean acknowledging and seeking to learn from disparate narratives, while still advocating and working for policy changes that promote human rights. Loving your enemy might not have a visible manifestation, but could mean looking at them with compassion and not harboring hatred in your heart.
I have many friends who are Israeli and who are committed to spending their lives and resources to bring an end to the occupation of the Palestinian people. And I also know many Israelis who hold similar views to the man in my story. How do I respond to them? What does it mean, as Jesus calls us, to love them? I hope and pray over the past several years my heart has softened while at the same time, my commitment to justice and human rights has never wavered. I do not believe the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is a zero-sum game. But rather any solution to the injustices of the occupation will also be a solution that is in the best interest of Jewish Israelis as well.
This Lent, my prayer is that we at Churches for Middle East Peace (CMEP) might be a place of fertile soil – where love for all people is held as a core value as we seek to live out God’s love and justice in the Middle East and the world.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.
God, make us good and fertile soil. Soften our hearts and root out any hatred within us. Give us perspectives of love toward all people. Help us to hear your word and to understand it.
Help us to understand and pursue both your love and justice, To not be afraid, but courageous in our efforts toward peace.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Amen.
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Rev. Dr. Mae Elise Cannon is the executive director of Churches for Middle East Peace and an ordained pastor in the Evangelical Covenant Church (ECC). Cannon formerly served as the senior director of Advocacy and Outreach for World Vision U.S. on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC; as a consultant to the Middle East for child advocacy issues for Compassion International in Jerusalem; as the executive pastor of Hillside Covenant Church located in Walnut Creek, California; and as director of development and transformation for extension ministries at Willow Creek Community Church in Barrington, Illinois.
Rev. Dr. Mae Elise Cannon, Churches for Middle East Peace (CMEP), Executive Director
The present violence in Israel/Palestine is the predictable result of Israel’s ongoing occupation of the Palestinian territories, significant military advantage, and its willingness to tolerate relatively little damage for the sake of preserving the status quo of occupation. Until the violence escalates, as it has in recent days, the world pays little attention despite taking place in land considered sacred by the three Abrahamic traditions—Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.
In May, Jewish settlers, who have long used Israeli domestic laws to forcibly transfer Palestinians from their neighborhoods in East Jerusalem, pushed to climax a court order to evict 58 Sheikh Jarrah residents, including 17 children, from their homes on the basis that the land under their apartments had been owned by a Jewish benevolent trust in the 19th century.
These Jewish settlers have no family connection to that trust, but Israeli law allows them to become trustees and then “re-claim” land that had been owned by Jews in East Jerusalem at any time before 1948. This and many other Israeli laws allow Jewish Israelis to displace Palestinians—or demolish their dwellings as prelude to expulsion—within Jerusalem and across Green Line Israel. The systemic dispossession of Palestinians in East Jerusalem today is carried out under major one-way Israeli domestic laws enacted as early as Absentee Property law of 1950 (long before the 1967 war) and as recently as 2017 (the “Kamenitz laws”). However, there are no Israeli laws that allow Palestinians to return to lands they were displaced from either in 1948 or since 1967. Similar “legal” transfers of Palestinians’ land are happening elsewhere in Jerusalem, notably in two areas of Silwan. Israeli settlement policies are another example of ways Israeli laws are biased against Palestinians.
As the May 1 court decision to finally implement the eviction transfer approached, there were demonstrations in Sheikh Jarrah by Palestinian residents and their Israeli and international allies. Peaceful demonstrations were increasingly attacked with violence by both Israeli police and Israeli ultranationalists. Omer Cassif, Israeli Knesset member, was beaten twice by police, becoming front-page news in Israel. Israeli police and ultranationalist violence increased in Sheikh Jarrah after violence around the Temple Mount/ Haram al-Sharif. Ramadam is the holiest time of year for Muslims, making dear worship at Islam’s third holiest site. Jerusalem Day celebrates Israel’s capture of East Jerusalem in 1967, allegedly reunifying it. Ramadan and Jerusalem Day’s alignment this year were two ingredients in this recipe for disaster. Palestinians responded with increased demonstrations in East Jerusalem, in the West Bank, and across Green Line Israel. The combination of all of these factors exploded.
The recent flare up included stun grenades thrown by Israeli police into al-Aqsa mosque during prayers, Hamas threatening and then firing rockets in response to events in Sheikh Jarrah and on the Temple Mount, and Israeli ultranationalist provocations, were all proximate causes of the present explosion of fighting gripping the news. But this is only the latest round of violence that has regularly escalated every couple of years for more than a decade. The only differences this time are the increased destructiveness of Hamas missiles and Israeli airstrikes; and the advent of fighting within Green Line Israel between Jewish and Palestinian Israeli proteseters.
A shared Jerusalem has long been the stated goal of both Israeli and Palestinian leaders, whether in a Jerusalem exclusively under Israeli control, or in a Jerusalem as capital to an Israeli state and a Palestinian state. However, Israeli policy, from the various discriminatory laws aimed at displacement of Palestinians, to the military occupation of the West Bank and police occupation of East Jerusalem and Hamas’ rockets, are just some of the ways the ongoing conflict continues to threaten a shared Jerusalem.
Jerusalem is shared by three major religions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam, but Israeli policies make it less and less shared each day by Jews, Christians and Muslims. Israel’s “legal” discrimination and displacement efforts at Jewish supremacy in Jerusalem, in the West Bank, and inside Green Line Israel instead produce religious fanaticism among Israelis and Palestinians alike, a systemic threat to the security, even the very lives, of Palestinians and Israelis alike.
To break this cycle of violence, Israel must end the occupation and its enduring legal oppression. Israel’s government has presented the occupation as temporary, but it has lasted more than 50 years. The Interim Transition in the various Oslo Accords is still interim more than 20 years later, and there has been no positive improvement over the past decade or more.
The United Nations Security Council (UNSC) should condemn the underlying causes of these threats to peace: occupation, land dispossession, and more. As as an evangelical pastor and the executive director of Churches for Middle East Peace (CMEP), I call on the UNSC, including the United States government, to take strong and decisive action to maintain peace in the Holy City of Jerusalem, and to protect all of God’s children, Israeli and Palestinian alike. The “legal” forcible transfer of Palestinians in Jerusalem, in the West Bank, and inside Green Line Israel must end.
Such UNSC action requires diving into long-term Israeli practices, not just the violence of the day. The dispossession of the families in Sheikh Jarrah at issue now, for example, is the end result sought by Israeli settlers in a lawsuit they filed in 1974 to dispossess Palestinian owners and residents from the buildings. Similar displacements, leading to Israeli settlers moving in after the forced transfers, have taken place in East Jerusalem often over the past two decades, 385 Palestinians displaced in 2020 alone.
If actions against sharing Jerusalem continue, the Holy City will continue sliding from light on the hill to a lit series of firecrackers, with the only questions being the length of time between explosions and their intensity. The Holy Land will continue experiencing an unholy maintenance of occupation by force, only limited by violent interventions. The Security Council must go beyond managing violence, to opposing root causes of violence in order to build lasting peace.
A star, a star, dancing in the night… with a tail as big as a kite.
Stars are symbolic of many things. For some, they are a spiritual or sacred symbol. For example, an eight-pointed star is a Native American symbol of hope and guidance. For others, stars are a symbol of magic, humanity, divinity, direction (as the Northern Star), excellence, or even fame. Some may say “reach for the stars” as a means to motivate. The star of Bethlehem is one of guidance, the star of David representing hope in the coming Messiah.
In the Christmas story, we read in Matthew 2 that the Magi (wise men, magicians, astronomers) see a star rise to their west and travel great distances to worship the one who has been born, Jesus, the king of the Jews. This star is the beacon of their long-awaited hope, now realized. Imagine yourself in their shoes. For generations the Jews have been awaiting the coming of the Messiah, literally looking to the skies. Can you imagine the heart palpitations, the thoughts that raced through their minds “do you think it could be?” The compelling sense to see the star, to not miss the joyous occasion, the motivation to go and see – with the thought “we must see this miraculous occasion for ourselves.”
Rev. Dr. Mae Elise Cannon, executive director of Churches for Middle East Peace, joins our host Chris Orme for the first episode of Season 3. Mae and Chris discuss different forms of advocacy, as well the spiritual formation that takes place through advocacy.
The following is a transcript of Season 3 Episode 1 of the Do Justice podcast. It has been lightly edited for clarity. Listen and subscribe on your favourite listening app.
A few weeks ago, the Jerusalem District Court ruled that at least six families must vacate their homes in Sheik Jarrah by Sunday, May 1, 2021. In total, 58 Palestinians living in the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood, including 17 children, are being displaced so that Jewish settlers may take possession of their homes. The ruling of the court was the culmination of the decades-long struggle for Palestinians to stay in their homes that I witnessed on that tour bus back in 2009.
Mohammad El Kurd and the Settler Takeover in the East Jerusalem Neighborhood of Sheikh Jarrah
Rev. Dr. Mae Elise Cannon
The first time I ever travelled through the Palestinian neighborhood of Sheikh Jarrah in East Jerusalem I was on a tour bus. More than a decade ago, it was a Friday afternoon and I witnessed firsthand Jews, Palestinians, and internationals standing in solidarity — holding signs and calling out for “Freedom for Palestine” and an end to the forced displacement of Palestinians from their homes by Israeli settlers. More than a decade later, the situation has only worsened and in fact, the current protests look eerily similar as solidarity demonstrations continue on behalf of the dozens of Palestinians facing eviction from their homes.
A few weeks ago, the Jerusalem District Court ruled that at least six families must vacate their homes in Sheik Jarrah by Sunday, May 1, 2021. In total, 58 Palestinians living in the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood, including 17 children, are being displaced so that Jewish settlers may take possession of their homes. The ruling of the court was the culmination of the decades-long struggle for Palestinians to stay in their homes that I witnessed on that tour bus back in 2009.
While the Holy Land was again experiencing acts of violence and terror, a varied group of people gathered in a church in Orlando, Florida.
There were:
men and women,
people of color and whites,
Christians, Muslims, and Jews,
Americans, Israelis, and Palestinians,
Pastors and an Imam,
a CEO and unemployed,
children and elderly,
people from all walks of life,
most of them strangers with only one thing in common
They were all seeking a word of HOPE for a land that is often characterized as hopeless.
This gathering was one of the final stops on a two-week “Hope for the Holy Land” tour that traveled across the United States, discussing what it means to be Pro-Israeli, Pro-Palestinian, Pro-Peace, Pro-Justice, and Pro-Jesus. The diverse group in Orlando all joined together in prayer before listening to the perspectives shared by the three keynote speakers. Read more
Advent is the season of hope. Hope in eager anticipation; waiting to celebrate the incarnation of God manifested in human form through the birth of Jesus. Hope in present circumstances; the small moments of heavenly triumph where the kingdom of God breaks forth into the dark realities of this world. Hope in the future; as we wait for the redemption of the world and the second coming of Christ Jesus. We hope for what is yet to come.
As we enter into this season of hope, we are reminded to celebrate, worship, and rejoice. The Psalmist speaks forth these words: “Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad.” All of creation will cry out, singing for joy, recognizing the saving power of Jesus, for he does not leave us abandoned in our earthly circumstances, but He comes. He dwells with us. He judges in righteousness. He redeems. He is the manifestation of hope. Read more
