Tag: Coptic

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Finding Church (part three)

In early October we began this blog, and after the opening post our next two entries were about the challenge of finding a local church in which to worship. In part one we described our general attitude toward this process, and in part two we described some of the local options from which to choose. I had imagined at the time that part three would follow shortly thereafter, but as you can tell it is now mid-February, and we have gained almost four months experience from where we were. It is high time for an update.

At the end of part two I previewed that we would describe our thoughts toward the Coptic Orthodox Church, which is the primary church of Egypt. Back then it was to be a philosophical description of the value of discovering a new tradition, one which reached back to the earliest days of Christianity. It was to promote the idea of belonging to the church in its local form, feeding and being fed with a people now our own. It may have mentioned the ideal of each Christian possessing something which would strengthen the neighborhood body, wondering what it could be that they might gain from us. It would have admitted the anticipated difficulties of finding spirituality in liturgy, but been hopeful that this was the pattern among millions, and for centuries, so why should we not also find our way?

This is what I would have written; I might yet still. In the previous four months we have had confirmed the troubles described in part two in worshipping late night with the Evangelicals, as we prefer to put our girls to bed early. We have gone several times to stay only for the worship, which has been enjoyable, but has been short of church. At night, however, at the end of a long working day (Sunday), it has been very easy to let this experiment slip.

In the previous four months I have also joined a Coptic Orthodox Bible Institute which—this class at least—is focused on how to extend Christian belonging to those on the fringes of the church. I wrote about a recent conference with this group here. This has been a very good experience for rubbing shoulders with real, believing Orthodox Christians of Egypt. While I do not learn as much about Orthodoxy as I had hoped, it is invaluable for learning of the things which are important to them. I have been received well, despite a Protestant background—many are often concerned about Protestant inroads into the Orthodox Church—and will speak well of them to you.

Finally, as for introduction, in the previous four months we have been a part of their traditional Friday mass community. While mass itself begins at 7:00am, many people do not show up until much later, and the sermon begins between 8:30 and 9:00. Communion is served around 10:15 and not finished until a few minutes before 11:00 when everyone has been served. Thereafter there are closing prayers and the sprinkling with holy water—a practice I must describe one of these days in its own right. At 11:00 the mass ends, and people exit.

Outside of the mass there is a children’s mass in a separate hall which begins at 8:30, followed by Sunday school at 9:30. This ends also at 11:00, at which point the families come back together, and many cross the street to the church owned villa where drinks and food are available for purchase. As best we can tell this area is open throughout the week, and people hang out all day on Friday.

Our pattern has been to go to church and sit together in the main mass from about 8:30 to the beginning of Sunday school. Emma and Julie tried the children’s mass early on but it was crowded and Emma did not have a very good experience. So I take Hannah on my lap and sit on the men’s side, while Julie takes Emma and sits on the ladies’ side. Actually, we both sit in the balcony which seems to be less divided, but we do stay apart in hope this would be easier for our girls to be still. So far, they have both behaved admirably.

Julie then takes Emma across the street to the villa which houses Emma’s age Sunday school. At times she sits outside with the other mothers, but recently has discovered a ladies’ class in the neighboring room. Meanwhile Hannah and I remain in the mass, after which Hannah enjoys getting down from my lap and sitting in all the chairs, climbing through all the wooden pews. After a little while, during which most of the church empties, we cross the street to rejoin Julie and Emma, who have since bought for all an early lunch. We split falafel sandwiches and French fry sandwiches, and sometimes find other families with which to talk, sometimes not. The same goes for our girls and playing with the other kids. We usually leave around 11:45 or so, and cross back to the church, where we take a few kids books—Arabic and English—from the library, unchain our double stroller, and walk to second Sunday school.

Second Sunday school is at the Evangelical church closer to our home, where Emma enjoys her class and Julie stays around and watches from the side. Quite a few of the Orthodox children also attend the Evangelical Sunday school classes, or, perhaps it is the other way around. In any case, Emma likes both and Julie has been getting to know some of the bi-denominational mothers.

 It has been very educational for me to be part of the mass. I have even enjoyed it. Since I am experiencing everything in Arabic (and Coptic) there is that which makes me concentrate more than if all was in English. It has taken time, but I have become familiar with the patterns of liturgy and the communal prayers, even if I don’t always capture every word. At the same time, with Hannah on my lap there is ample room for distraction, which does not seem to be a problem to those around us. The same program, more or less, is repeated week after week, and has been for two millennia. It does not seem to matter if here or there a baby cries or people rise to leave mid-service. The traditions go on as they always have.

This aspect of the service has been enjoyable, as it also allows me time to daydream. By this I mean spiritually daydream, as I contemplate ancient rituals and contemporary importance. If this is what church was in its earliest days, does this carry forward in establishing legitimacy? Or is this church doomed to increasing irrelevance in favor of a growing worldwide contemporary evangelicalism? Do evangelicals do well or poorly in shaping church so closely to culture? Would Orthodox benefit from adding variety to their worship? Since Orthodox believe the bread and wine are truly Jesus’ body and blood, how does this affect their partaking? Do they truly believe, or are they going through the motions? If that is a poor way to ask, are they repeating ritual with sincerity? When they prostrate themselves before the elements, do they ‘feel’ God? He is, after all, present in all his holiness. What would it be like to feel this? Should I even try? Will it happen one day by itself? Do I believe at all? Is what I am doing worship? Am I just an observer, a sociologist? Does any of this, in them or in me, please God at all?

These are fun questions to consider, even if they are troubling at times. Add these to the icons, the incense, the architecture, and the cymbals, and the time goes very quickly. In moments here and there I have been moved; never have I been bored.

This week, however, was a setback.

One week ago we contacted one of the priests who had previously invited me and my wife to sit down and discuss Orthodoxy. He mentioned that though everyone seeks to speak with him after Friday mass, the Saturday services are less regularly attended, especially the English mass celebrated the first of every month. So we called him to reserve a time, made arrangements for a babysitter to watch the girls, and gave our Saturday morning to this endeavor.

He didn’t show up.

I learned later that he forgot, and asked if we wished to meet with him next week. He didn’t seem particularly disturbed that he forgot, nor was he particularly inviting, though not insincere, in his offer. Of course he did not know the troubles we undertook to meet the first time, but his attitude revealed something that was lingering in the back of our heads during the previous four months. There is little welcome extended in the Egyptian Coptic Orthodox Church.

I can imagine that our presence there in the first place is very odd for people. Maadi, Cairo is full of foreigners, but we are the only ones I can notice in the church. Orthodoxy is not a Western tradition, so this is not unusual, and therefore our attendance is. Nevertheless, in four months almost no one has asked why we are there, or offered to help in understanding the liturgy, or even greeted us as the service ends. There are plenty of admiring stares at our girls, and at the villa people are friendly if we approach them, but it seems most people seem to believe we wish to be left alone. Perhaps they are accustomed to this being the normal Western attitude.

If the reader here senses some frustration, it may not be far off, but that is not the point. One other comment on the setback, however, before I get to it.

Getting up for church has been a fabled difficulty in America for a long time, so there is nothing unique in this anecdote. Nevertheless, it is a little different from the norm, for Sunday church in America follows the chance to sleep in on Saturday following the workweek. Here, Friday church is the next day after the Sunday through Thursday workweek, so after rising early for the boss, a Westerner like myself feels entitled to take a day of rest, but finds instead we have to rise again early, this time for God.

A mistake with the snooze button today led to an extended morning rest, and then a few snoozes more. Before we knew it it was clear that we would be late for the sermon at church. Whereas we don’t strive to get there for the start of mass, it is beneficial to hear a sermon, and all the readings from the Bible take place before the sermon. Afterwards, it is all liturgical preparation for communion.

Having had four months of getting used to the liturgy, and having attended the English liturgy the week before, suddenly all desire to go to church was gone. I have not mentioned yet this post that non-Orthodox are barred from taking communion. I will explain more about this sometime in the future when I learn more, but only baptism at the hands of a priest qualifies one to take part in sharing the body and blood of Jesus. We have known this since the beginning, and have not allowed it to bother us or prevent our efforts to belong. I would rather partake with them, and will explore any opportunities for this, but during the extended communion time Hannah and I simply watch the others move forward to receive.

Therefore, no sermon, known liturgy, and no communion equal little desire. We went anyway, of course, going to church has been an established habit since I can remember. It was again as it has always been, which is both good and bad.

Therein lies the point. It is as it has always been. This is a difficult aspect of Orthodoxy to get used to. As for the lack of a felt welcome, we are measuring this against the hyper-seeker-sensitive American evangelical church. If I say ‘hyper’ here many American readers will immediately nod their heads in agreement, thinking of that flashing lights megachurch that gets all the attention. No, I mean your church. Most churches give instruction to certain people to make certain they approach any noticeable newcomer. They must not be overly friendly, lest they be scared away, but they must feel welcomed, lest they complain afterwards no one talked to them. It is a tightrope walking game the American church has almost mastered.

Furthermore the very idea which informs this blog—a sense of belonging—is nearly established dogma in Western society, and as such in the church as well. We want to feel, to experience, to be loved, to be wanted, and we expect our churches to provide this for us. Of course, we need a top notch children’s program as well, so they can share in all of these ‘needs’. This is written with a touch of critique, but it also is both positive and Biblical. The church is a body, full of relationships.

Before moving on it would also be wise to mention the cynical flip side of this arrangement. People must be welcomed, of course, so that they may with us receive the benefit of salvation, if they do not know it, but then can also grow spiritually through sound teaching and service opportunities. This is true and real. It does not stop the critique, however, that we welcome them in pursuit of church growth, either for the crass but real idea of gaining donations to perpetuate existence, or for the slightly improved but still suspect notion that bigger is better. I know this world well; no one thinks this way, but these concerns are never far from the surface. The practice of religion is rarely far from the practice of capitalism. We fail to consider this mammon at our peril.

I am highlighting these features of American church to provide a stark contrast to the Coptic Orthodox Church. Surely there are negative pictures here as well, which I will share with you as I learn them. For now, however, consider the simple fact of continuity. The church here has existed for two thousand years. It has birthed Christianity in many other countries, started worldwide monastic movements, won an entire nation to the faith, become famed for spectacular miracles, experienced waves of bloody persecution, witnessed numerous theological controversies, given way to a dominant rival faith, lost its ancestral language, descended into dry and lifeless repetition of rituals, and experienced unprecedented spiritual revival. Throughout all this the mass has stayed—so as best I can say at this time—exactly the same.

The church is as it was, and presumably will be. Each and every church is the same. Though one priest may differ in style from another, there is no competition between bodies. Deacons, like priests, are appointed by a regional bishop, and may preside over mass in any church to which they come. Worshippers may go to one church one week and another the next. Mass is the same if it is full of people, or attended by only one or two. Outside the sermon and communion, the priest’s back is turned to the congregation almost the entire time. The presence of any one individual makes no difference at all.

In this description I am focusing on the mass; church in Egypt does appear to have a web of relationships and activity that we have not yet been privy to. Perhaps it would be better to say that Christians of Egypt have this network, which is centered on the church. I plan to write a post about this soon.

The mass, however, is timeless worship. As in the Bible, where the same words have informed Christians for generations, so does the liturgy inform Christian spirituality and definition. I have been looking for a sense of belonging, and somewhat been hoping for a give and take from the church. With all patience I have realized our acceptance may take a long while, as would our own ability to know how to belong. The setback of the last week has made me wonder about this expectation, indicating I have aimed incorrectly. The mass is not set up as a give and take with the church, it is set up only for God. The congregation gives itself in worship; it takes an immaterial blessing. God, presumably, will welcome all who prostrate before him; those who come on their own terms are left to themselves.

We do not know what these thoughts will do for our hope to find church soon. These four months have not been sufficient to decide where our family should worship. It remains a request in our personal prayers; to the extent you wish to join in these we are thankful. Church has been part of our family for a long time, and we desire it to be a foundation of our lives here as well. Where we choose to belong we will strive to give ourselves fully. However informed by American Christian culture we are in this respect, we hope it is still our prostration to God, of whose welcome we desire. May it be with Egyptians of all convictions that we gain a sense of belonging, which is the immaterial blessing we seek from God. We pray this is on his terms, and not our own.

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Coptic Conference, Egyptian Triumph

The two items in the title today bear no relation to one another except for the day. In the end, it was a true Egyptian experience.

This past weekend the class I am with at the Coptic Bible Institute – its actual name is the Institute for Orthodox Doctrine and Spiritual Guidance – had its winter retreat at a former monastery turned conference center in Beni Suef, the first major city to the south of Cairo, about a two hour drive away. Julie and the girls were able to come, as did the families of other students in the class, which made for a nice atmosphere for all. We were put together in a single room in a typical dorm style residence facility, and while I participated in the activities Julie was free to roam around the grounds with the kids, not quite a babysitter, but not exactly comfortable with the hands-off attitude which prevailed. The retreat lasted three days and two nights, and was a nice break from the routine of the city.

The program of the conference focused on communication skills, body language, and the five love languages, which may be known to some readers of this blog as a popular study in many churches. It surprised me somewhat to see it in an Egyptian Orthodox retreat program, but much of American Christianity has come to Egypt through its Protestant churches, and then works its way as well into the greater Orthodox majority. Each day had two lectures and a study group, which I was able to ‘feel’ as normal retreat procedure, but the rest of the activity reminded me I was among those of a different tradition.

We did not necessarily wake early, but the day started with prayer, which was not the common ‘everyone give a request and talk to God’ procedure during Protestant sessions. Instead, we worked through the Orthodox prayer book. Traditionally, and still present in monastic practice, Christians would pray seven times daily. These prayers are scripted, though there seemed to be some variety in the selections. I was more confused than would ordinarily be expected, for instead of breaking for prayer seven times, we combined two prayer sessions into one, ending the day with the single, seventh prayer, and according to a pattern everyone knew except me, intermingled the selections from the two readings.

Within each session there consisted the Lord’s Prayer, the Apostle’s Creed, a ‘Lord have mercy – Kyrie Elasion’ reading, a Psalm, a reading from a Gospel, and general other intercessions. It was all very scriptural, but it was very fast. In part this was because my Arabic reading is still slow, and I was trying to keep up with unfamiliar material, but it also seemed like readers rushed through the selection given them to read. Some seemed like they had memorized the portions, others were less confident, but some read in a sing-song that was very beautiful. We stood standing the whole time, about twenty to thirty minutes, and faced East. I would say that East is the direction of Jesus’ second coming, but that doesn’t sound exactly right, as early Christianity expanded in all directions around Jerusalem, and his return, though to be seen by the whole world, will be, according to his own word, on the Mount of Olives. Nevertheless, within the Orthodox liturgy is a directive to ‘Look to the East’; I will need to ask a bit more to find out why.

 The other activity was also unfamiliar; following the prayer we learned a Coptic hymn. Though most of Coptic Orthodox liturgy is now conducted in Arabic, and has been for centuries, there is a conscious effort on the part of Orthodox Christians to maintain the use of their original tongue. It is only a liturgical language, but its study is mandatory for all priests and monks, though no one speaks it at home and only the learned would be able to follow along except for the known and familiar passages. At the Orthodox church we attend they put the words of the liturgy on a screen; on one side is the Arabic text, on the other is the Coptic language, written in Arabic script.

This hymn was being taught in preparation for the coming Easter fasting session, for it is used only near the end of Lent, if I understood correctly. It contained also an interesting theological twist. The opening lines praise Jesus for his fast, which he undertook for us. I had not heard this notion before. The question of why Jesus chose to fast forty days is a question not really answered definitively in the Bible, but the general answer that I have heard was that it was in preparation for his public ministry, which began immediately after he emerged from the desert. For Protestants who rarely fast, this is seen as a commendable but exceptional event, but one that is designed to draw one especially close to God, and as such, it is understood that Jesus did this for himself.

I am not yet sure of all the formulations, but Orthodox do fast regularly, almost half the year in varying levels of severity, and it has an element of repentance from sin. I may be wrong in this, but if I am not, they do have Biblical warrant. Yet since Jesus had no sin of which to repent, nor need to draw closer to God, the Orthodox may be more pressed in this understanding to figure out why Jesus fasted in the first place. The answer I received, as the hymn celebrates, is that he fasted for us. He undertook his fast to teach us to fast, and in some way, to perfect and complete the fasting required of his followers. Christians are said in the Bible to be ‘in Christ’; as such their lives are mixed with his, and his deeds also become theirs. I was nervous that this made Jesus’ life somewhat of a theater, in which he was playing a role rather than living his life in a real way. The Orthodox believe, of course, that Jesus was both fully human and fully divine, and that during his fast he suffered greatly, as any human would. The motivation, however, seems peculiar. Again, I will have to ask more questions.

Less people were familiar with the hymn than with the prayers, and people seemed less eager to participate in the learning thereof. I thought it was fun in the beginning, but I tired of it as the retreat went on, realizing I was never going to memorize it, and even if I could, would I even recognize it during the few weeks it entered into the liturgy? Perhaps other people felt the same way.

As a note, I have by now memorized some of the more celebrated parts of the liturgy that are repeated every week. It is fun to be able to participate fully during these parts of the service, whereas so much else is still unfamiliar. I keep in the back of my mind, however, the traditional Protestant critique of liturgy. It may well be fine and Biblical, but does the eternal repetition lead to routine monotony? I would like to be inclined to believe it does not have to, but this is an answer I can only discover in time through experience. By the visible participation of many during the mass I can see they are engaged; by the visible participation of many others, there is little indication.

During the retreat, however, mass was the one thing we failed to participate in fully. Justifying ourselves that this was a retreat and thus a good time to catch up on some needed rest, we slept in, resisting the knock at our door which was given to all at around quarter to seven. We did arrive a good half an hour before it ended at 11:00, so who knows what type of credit we received if we were found in attendance following communion. I suppose for full disclosure we should also admit to not participating in the seventh late night prayer, performed at around 10:30pm. We may be striving for a sense of belonging, but we are not yet Egyptians, we need our sleep.

Following Sunday mass and a final group session we were due for lunch and then departure at 3:00pm. This is a key detail, for Sunday was also to be the final of the African Nations Cup. Egypt had defeated hated rival Algeria (see this post, from Julie, and this one, from Jayson) in the semifinal, 4-0, and the country was awash in excitement in advance of the final match against Ghana. In addition, having won the past two African Nation Cups, but missing out on qualification for the upcoming World Cup, this was a chance at national redemption. Our bus was scheduled to leave with plenty of time allotted to return to Cairo before the match began.

Of course, nothing in Egypt goes according to schedule. Lunch was prepared by a classmate’s family who lived in the area. Though delicious, it was an hour late. Then when we had finished, the bus to return had still not arrived. When it came, it was smaller than the one which brought us, causing extra delays in trying to fit everyone and their luggage (we did, somehow). Meanwhile, three of our group had gone into the city for some reason, and needed to be picked up along the way out, except that they were not where they were supposed to be, and we had to search for them. At long last we got on the road, and it was clear we would not make it home in time for the start of the match.

In vain we tried to find the match broadcast on the radio. The best we could do was find a station which gave updates every few minutes, but the frequency was not clear. Fortunately, we were in the first row, so we could hear the time pass with confirmation of the same result, no score. We had no indication of the time elapsed, however, but it seemed likely we could make it home before it ended, and certainly for the overtime which seemed likely.

Then, the bus had an accident. It was no real accident, but there was no reason for it, as best I could tell. We were so close to home and the driver pulled into what seemed like a strip mall. I think he was looking for a shortcut to get over to the main road to take us back to the church, realized he made a mistake, but then backed up into another car. Five or six of the men of our group got out with the driver to investigate, and another lengthy delay ensued. I let things be and stayed in my seat, otherwise I could fill in the details, but I have seen the confrontations that sometimes occur over fender benders, and thought the presence of a foreigner might not help things. In any case, about fifteen minutes later we were on our way again, as there seemed to be no complications from the accident.

During the final approach back to church we saw evidence of the result. People were slowly but increasingly swarming into the streets to celebrate. Those in cars began honking their horns incessantly, including what seemed to be a wedding party in convoy. Children were dancing while waving flags over their heads. Others were shooting off fireworks. Every club or café we passed was emptying. The nation was in euphoria.

We learned in the taxi ride on the way home that Egypt had scored in the final five minutes, and then held off the Ghanaian attack to win 1-0. The next several hours were filled with horn honking throughout the city. Egypt, seven times champion, three in a row. I am glad we attended the Coptic conference, wished we would have been able to watch the match, but at least witnessed the emergence of celebration. We witnessed true Egypt, from the first experience to the last.

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Arab West Report Middle East Published Articles

Coptic Activist and Upper Egypt Reporting

On December 15-16, 2009, the Center for Arab West Understanding conducted a media workshop in Cairo, inviting representatives from the major newspapers in Egypt, and correspondents came from many of the regional centers as well. The topic of the workshop was “Objective and Balanced Reporting in Controversial Issues”, and was organized due to the perception that journalists will often emphasize the sensationalist aspects to a story rather than simply reporting the facts. One indication of this is witnessed when an ordinary altercation between a Muslim and a Christian is reported as a sectarian incident. It is not uncommon for the rumors then to spread, aided by the media, and a true sectarian incident follows in its wake. Whereas the details of this development must of course be reported in a sectarian light, many journalists neglect the original cause, leaving the nation and watching world in ignorance of the wider context, damaging the reputation of Egypt in general and Muslim – Christian relations in particular. Potentials for reconciliation—a particular focus of our center—are especially difficult in this light. 

Though not a newspaper, one of the more egregious perpetrators of journalistic negligence operates from outside the country. Among the many fair and balanced Copts who live abroad in the United States, Europe, or Australia are a handful of activists who through their websites highlight the worst incidents of what they term “persecution” of the Copts. While certainly there are incidents of targeted attack upon Christians in Egypt, these expatriate Copts leave out the greater context of generally peaceful relations and freedom of worship which characterize the nation as a whole. Instead, they rail against the failures of the government to prevent the atrocities which do occur, and rally their fellow Copts living abroad to protest and demonstrate against the administration. A number of their complaints can be seen as valid, but the tenor of their discourse poisons the national unity, and increasingly even Copts in Egypt access their reports to survey the political and religious landscape. Yet the question must be posed: Operating outside of Egypt, where do such sites get their information?

Enter Nermine Rida into the picture. As we contacted the editorial boards of the major newspapers her name was suggested as a worthy journalist to invite from Upper Egypt, writing for the regional newspaper, ‘The News of Minia’. While this paper has little to no distribution outside of Minia, it is not uncommon for the larger Cairo-based newspapers to work with freelance regional journalists such as Nermine, rather than assume the larger costs of an employed regional staff. In fact according to her and other journalist testimony from our workshop, only one paper – al-Masry al-Youm (the Daily Egyptian, one of the largest independent newspapers) – has employees in Minia on a regular monthly salary. Fortunately, he was able also to attend our training.

While many journalists had interesting stories to tell, Nermine attracted further attention due to her admission that she was a contributor also to Copts United, one of the internet sites described above. Upon further conversation, however, she admitted that she no longer participates with this organization. One of the primary reasons is financial – they do not pay well. On average for articles she submitted for publication as a freelancer for regular Egyptian newspapers she has earned less than a third of that by submitting to Copts United. Furthermore, the monies due her from Copts United were often not paid at all, and when promised required her to travel to Cairo to meet a local representative from whom she could collect her money. 

This admission seemed perplexing, for expatriate Copts are wealthier in general than their Egyptian counterparts. Given that they lack the information necessary on the ground, why would they not pay above the given rate to get the stories they need to fuel their propaganda? Nermine related this was part of their strategy, which was another reason she no longer works with them. In the internet age, anyone can be a reporter. The stories, news feeds, pictures, and video which appear on Copts United, she claims, come from people on the street. These submit their amateur work to the website, and sometimes receive compensation, sometimes not. Their reward is appearing on the website and contributing to the “defense” of the Coptic people. While this in and of itself does not represent a major problem, she claims that Copts United encourages their sources not to report on the wider context of the story or to quote from opposing statements. If they can obtain their information in this manner, why should they pay a seasoned journalist?

The answer to this question is provided by Osama al-Ghazoly, who is a seasoned journalist, writing currently for Rose al-Yusef. He states that unless there are professionals editing these comments taken in the heat of the moment, putting them into proper context, the situation is very dangerous. Context and opposing viewpoints are essential for balanced and accurate reporting. These, however, according to Nermine, are the very things Copts United consciously neglects.

Due to her insistence on keeping to proper journalistic standards Nermine enjoys a good reputation in the area, though with certain Copts her relations are strained. While many Coptic activists will angle their stories to present “persecution” against Christians, Nermine reports that out of fifty shooting incidents in Minia this year, only two were between a Muslim and a Christian. By keeping her stories within this context she can be trusted to report about real incidents, even sectarian ones, when they occur.

 Unfortunately, Nermine relates that the situation for journalists in Upper Egypt can push them into sensationalism. Her main occupation is not as a journalist, but as an elementary school teacher, and though she has a fixed salary, like most in the area, it is not high. Reporting about conflict, especially religious, is not more financially rewarding for the reporter, but can be more rewarding for the editorial boards which want more than simple reporting about ordinary community squabbles. While her freelance activity can add supplementary income, it is her journalistic principles which establish her reputation, which she claims is of greater value than her wage. Yet as stated above, with only two journalists from one newspaper employed in their field on a full-time basis, it is no surprise that reports from the area are characterized by incomplete data, missing sources, personal bias, and clear sensationalism. A lack of professionalism stems from a lack of training, as most newspapers do not invest in the development of their Upper Egyptian human resources. 

While we spoke with many of the other journalists present in our workshop, this conversation with Nermine Rida proved especially valuable. Her perspective on two otherwise little known subjects—the relation of expatriate Coptic activists to Egyptian media and the working conditions of Upper Egyptian journalists—will help us to understand the background obstacles to promoting reconciliation. Though our main task does not seek to confront these maladies, through consideration of the opposing voices our own message can be presented more clearly. Reconciliation depends on, among other things, a clear presentation of the facts and root causes of conflicting interests. Unfortunately, either due to unapologetic bias or insufficient quality control, neither Coptic activist nor Upper Egyptian reporting is known for its clarity.  

To view this report online, please click here.

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Arab West Report Middle East Published Articles

Bishop Marcos on Nag Hamadi

The recent killings in Nag Hamadi have engendered various reactions throughout Egyptian society. Some have cursed the darkness, while others have closed up their eyes and ears altogether. Some, however, have been spurred to action, but sensitivity, distance—geographically and culturally, and ignorance make it terribly difficult to know what to do. We at the Center for Arab West Understanding (CAWU) find ourselves in this third grouping. We have a project designed to encourage peacemaking, and we have a region in Nag Hamadi which is in need of peace. We also possess internal compunction to make a difference, but find these motivations are like the hitting of a head against a wall; what can we do? With fractions of ideas we sought counsel from a trusted advisor, Bishop Marcos of the Coptic Orthodox Church, of the diocese of Shubra al-Khayma.

Bishop Marcos, in addition to providing spiritual leadership for an influential district of Cairo is also the point person for communication activities of the church. He also serves as a board member for CAWU, and has provided us with advice and insight for many years. Our group was composed of Eng. Sawsan Gabra, head of CAWU, Osama al-Ghazoly, and Jayson Casper, and shortly after arrival we welcomed additional parties to our conversation.

Bishop Marcos had informed us by telephone as we sought to gain an audience with him that he was traveling on Sunday to Nag Hamadi with a delegation from the United States and Australia. The news that he was to visit the area was encouraging—we hope that he might provide great service to the church and city—but what was this foreign delegation?

As we began our conversation the facts became clear and Bishop Marcos introduced us to the foreigners in question… (click here to continue)

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Arab West Report Middle East Published Articles

Stubborn Ideologies and Uncertain Details

In the wake of the Nag Hamadi killings prevailing Egyptian sentiment has asserted the essential unity between Muslim and Christian, presenting the Christmas massacre as an aberration of the norm. The dominating idea is that Egypt is a country with two religions, but one culture. Muslims and Christians have studied and worked, suffered and prospered, and lived and died as one people, sharing in communal bonds of fraternity, celebrating jointly their religious feasts. Though this is an idealized presentation, it is also largely the truth, and the promotion thereof can be a powerful reminder to all sides as they reel from the weight of this tragedy. Easily the Christian can now see himself under attack; easily the Muslim can see his religion being hijacked. If the idea of ‘two religions but one culture’ can take hold of the popular consciousness it can prove to keep these communities united in the face of sectarian dissent or denial, as will be seen below. The ideologies of the two communities, however, may prove a stubborn barrier. 

Popular unity can only be celebrated if it is believed, and many Coptic sentiments lament its absence. For these, the events of Nag Hamadi are simply further confirmation of the deteriorating state of Coptic acceptance in society. They see a culture and governance which is increasingly Islamic, and picture themselves outside of it. They believe the cries of national unity to be hollow, uttered by politicians worried more about preserving the national image than preserving the safety and rights of its Coptic citizens.

Indicative of this ideological stranglehold is a conversation recently conducted with a prominent Coptic intellectual. This is a fine man with interreligious friendships and respect for his government. In discussing the Nag Hamadi incident, however, he was adamant about this being an example of persecution against Christians by militant Islamist elements within his country. He is careful not to label the action ‘Islamic’, for he esteems the Muslim interpretation of faith offered by his colleagues, which he admits is known as ‘liberal’. Whereas many have seen the aggression instead as an expression of tribal sentiment in reaction to the shame incurred from the rape of a 12 year old girl in a nearby village, he rejects this explanation. He has heard it said—and from a Muslim source—that it was not a rape but consensual relations, and not with a minor, but a legal adult. He has heard this; he has no confirmation. Nevertheless the ‘refutation’ of the claim of rape takes away the possibility of tribal honor killing. The only possible scenario remaining is that of religious extremism. Inasmuch as the killing took place at a church on the holiest of holidays, the subtleties of the rape account are easily brushed aside in the preservation of a prevailing ideology. 

While many Muslims have a real belief in their essential unity with Christians in the fabric of their country, they have other issues to confront. Namely, how could such a crime be committed by Muslims, with that religious identification emphasized over the epithet ‘Egyptian’ as the attack was upon a church, during Christmas? The external appearance of the incident is entirely sectarian; having moved through a period of active and admitted Islamic violence in the previous decades, the average Muslim is loathe to witness its reappearance. They believe their religion to be essentially peaceful and such aggression to be against the faith. Acts such as Nag Hamadi, if understood in sectarian light, could provoke a crisis of faith.

Indicative of this ideological stranglehold is a conversation recently conducted with an average but pious Muslim young woman. This is a fine woman with interreligious friendships and respect for the Christian religion. In editing a text from the Coptic intellectual I asked her to help me supply some of his missing references to Qur’anic verses. The author had identified several verses which encourage Muslims toward peace and coexistence, for which he had supplied the references, but also spoke of other messages which some extremists utilize to preach violence. Here he gave no references, and the process of editing required they be supplied. 

My colleague became very reluctant. Rightfully claiming that she was not a scholar, she was slow to state what verses might be intended, lest a wrong understanding be given of her religion. “Of course,” I said, “we just need references, you know, the verse that says ….” “But that verse does not mean violence,” she defended, “the Prophet said …” “It is not our viewpoint, we are only editing,” I replied, “we carry the voices of everyone, no matter what their opinion.” She continued to demur, wondering if in doing this work we would be aiding the writer in this wrong interpretation of Islam. She did see enough of the writer’s text to admit that he was being balanced and only describing the views of certain Muslims, but the simple motion toward anything which might attach violence to Islam was nearly paralyzing.

This attitude can be seen specifically in the popular rush to identify the attack at Nag Hamadi with the rape of the 12 year old girl. If such a heinous crime can be attributed to distant tribal customs then Islam bears no responsibility, only the Muslim—if he can be called that—who perpetrated it. The general, peaceful Muslim then can carry on in the conviction that his religion is peaceful without having to be disturbed by an act of violence that carries all the markings of sectarianism. This is not to say that Islam supports violence, it only suggests the complications in the text for crafting one’s internal theology. As concerns the attack on the church and motivations involved, the subtleties of the crime can be easily brushed aside in the preservation of a prevailing ideology. 

The facts of Nag Hamadi are not clear. The motivations of those involved are less so. The facts of the rape in the nearby village are not clear. The connections to the killings in Nag Hamadi are less so. This scenario has not stopped pundits, commentators, lawyers, human rights activists, expatriate Copts, politicians, journalists, priests, and foreign media from pronouncing their opinion. This chorus has been joined by others who issue statements without sources, and others still who labor to report only the facts. This is normal in such a tense and explosive atmosphere; it will take time to sort through the chaff to get to the wheat. Even then, among many the official pronouncements will lack credibility, sending the issue back into the morass of presuppositions and rumors.

Who among us does not hold to an ideology through which he or she interprets reality? The reader is invited to critique the ideology which has informed this article. Nevertheless, in an issue as charged and vital to Egyptian peace as Nag Hamadi, it proves difficult for even the best of humanity to set aside an ideology before the facts are in place. Instead, indications and deductions, however logical, cement the established viewpoint and establish the discourse of each community. Egypt is a country of two religions; the analysis of reactions of both demonstrates that it is also a country of one culture.

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Press Review of Nag Hamadi — Part Six

As I mentioned yesterday, this is the last of the original daily updates following the Coptic Christmas murders at Nag Hamadi. Tomorrow I will post the piece added to our webpage today, which summarizes the news as recorded in the press up to today. Thereafter we will only do summary press reviews every couple days as there is news to report. I will seek to keep you up to date, but hopefully in a few days we might return to our normal blog activity, letting you read reflections about our normal life, including work, every couple days or so. Normal is nice, but active can also be fun.

Please click here for the press review: http://www.arabwestreport.info/HotNews.php?NId=204.

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Arab West Report Middle East Published Articles

A Priest’s Opinion on Nag Hamadi

During our stay in Maghagha for Coptic Christmas, we got to see Christian reactions first hand as the news about the killings in Nag Hamadi began to spread. We discussed this somewhat in our reflections on Day One and Day Two of our Christmas celebration. There was shock, discouragement, and resignation. Sadly, many Copts believe that they lack the necessary concern of the authorities to prevent such atrocities, and even to respond by arresting and prosecuting the perpetrators.

I do not wish to comment about the validity of these perceptions, but they are widely held. One of the results is that many Copts suffer from a disengagement with society; having been let down so many times they are reluctant to participate anew, and put no trust in government to intervene positively. Though these reactions can be seen as natural and potentially legitimate, it can also be said that this will lead to only further rupture between Muslims and Christians, and between Christians and the state. Many Copts recognize this, and are fervently urging their fellow believers to re-engage.

In the wake of such despair it is difficult for many Copts to find a positive vision. We were fortunate, however, to be staying in the home of one such priest. I asked Fr. Yu’annis (John in the Coptic language) what he would do if he were a priest in Nag Hamadi. He answered in three parts, addressing the government, Muslim leaders, and the Christian community. A summary of the conversation which followed has resulted in a report, and is now presented here…

During the Coptic Christmas celebrations I had the opportunity to stay with my family in the home of Fr. Yu’annis in Maghagha. Fr. Yu’annis is a priest for the Coptic Orthodox Christian community in Qufada, but maintains his residence in Maghagha, the seat of the bishopric, about fifteen minutes away by car. We were able to witness with him the events of January 6, in which gunmen waited in ambush outside a church in Nag Hamadi, Qena, and shot dead six Christians as they exited Christmas mass. One Muslim police officer was also killed in the attack.

Fr. Yu’annis has been a longstanding friend of Arab West Report, which has noticed his exceptional manner in relating to government officials and Muslim neighbors. He has been instrumental in securing permission to build or expand over twenty churches in the bishoprics of Maghagha, Beni Mazar, and Mattai, during a time in which many Egyptian Christians complain of difficulties in this regard. Based on this background, I asked Fr. Yu’annis what he would do if he were a priest in Nag Hamadi. How should a Christian leader respond to such a violent act against the community?

Fr. Yu’annis answered in three parts. The first and immediate action would be to go to government officials, ask questions, and listen. These would include the governor, mayor, and leaders of the police force. He would ask them, simply, what they plan to do about this. He would not interfere, but he would continue to inquire. It would be hoped that through these interactions he might craft good relationships with these officials, but also signal to them that he is following the events and will not let the matter drop. Ultimately, authority and responsibility lie in the hands of the government, and it is best to remain in good communication with all its representatives.

The second action should be directed toward Muslim community leaders, including the mosque preachers but not limited to them. The point here is not to level accusations but to strengthen relationships. Even so, a rebuke could be in order, though it must be properly delivered.

Fr. Yu’annis remembered the Biblical story of David, after he had committed adultery with Bathsheba and had her husband killed by sending him to the front lines of battle. God sent to him the prophet Nathan, who told him of a poor villager whose one sheep was taken from him to be slaughtered for the guest of his rich neighbor, even though this man had many sheep of his own. David was outraged and ordered that this man be taken and put to death. Nathan replied promptly, “You are the man!” David was caught in condemnation through his own words and made conscious of his sin, for which he then repented.

Though the parallel is not complete, this is the manner with which Fr. Yu’annis would approach Muslim leaders. Nathan came to David as a friend; so would Fr. Yu’annis approach the Muslims. Nathan refrained from displays of anger and outright accusation; Fr. Yu’annis would similarly recognize the futility of such an effort. Instead, like Nathan he would ask a question: If we had done this to you, killed your worshippers exiting a mosque, what would be your response toward us? In seeking to help these leaders understand the event from the perspective of the other, he would also seek to establish their own claim of responsibility for the climate in which this atrocity was committed. Accepting this responsibility, he hoped, might lead not only toward initiatives of rapprochement, but also toward personal and community repentance.

Finally, Fr. Yu’annis would direct his third action toward the Christian community. He would urge the people toward patience and forgiveness, but would also give a harder command. Though it would be easy to retreat in frustration at the tensions present between the two communities, the Christians of Nag Hamadi must resist this temptation. Instead, they must make certain to preserve the normal and natural relationships they have with individual Muslims of their community. Where these do not exist Christians should be active to craft them. The atrocity was committed by one to three individuals, who may or may not have been connected to other elements in the area. Regardless of a possible wider scope, they do not represent the majority Muslim sentiment, which would condemn this crime. If Christians retreat, however, they would give Muslims cause to doubt them, and where there is little relationship, there is little concern. Instead, by preserving and strengthening the relationships that do exist they send a powerful statement of community unity in the face of difficulty and potential sectarian strife.

Fr. Yu’annis was powerfully affected by the events at Nag Hamadi, and as we discussed them and listened to the incessant media reporting from which it was impossible to turn away, his eyes welled up with tears. Not only were these for families torn asunder, but also for a community which appears about to suffer the same fate. In such cases, it is far better for policy to be determined by sadness than by anger; may his thoughts also be conjured by the priests of Nag Hamadi.

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Arab West Report Middle East Published Articles

Coptic Christmas: Day Three

Today we visited two “Holy Family Sites” near Maghagha.    For those who know the Bible story, you may remember that due to the threat of Herod’s soldiers coming to kill the babies under age 2 in Bethlehem, Joseph took his small family down to Egypt before returning to Nazareth.  From what I know and remember, the Bible doesn’t say much more than, “They went down to Egypt,” but here in Egypt, there is a whole route mapped out where Joseph, Mary, and Jesus, i.e. The Holy Family, went.  I am not sure where all the information comes from, but just about a month ago, I learned that Maadi, the town where we live in Egypt, was one of the Holy Family stops.  There is now a church built on the spot, right along the banks of the Nile.  In some ways, this reminds me of our visit to Jerusalem a few years ago where we walked along the Via Delarosa … the path Jesus took to the cross.  There is a lot of history and archeology that could map a basic route he walked, but there are also places along the way that seem impossible to believe, like the place where Jesus stumbled and fell and his hand print is embedded in the wall.  But, the Holy Family tour is one of the important Coptic things in Egypt, and since Maghagha is near two of these sites, we took the opportunity to visit.

Our gracious host, a priest in a village near Maghagha, was unable to go with us this morning, but he did provide a driver, and another priest, to accompany us.  Not only that, but we rode in the Bishop’s private van … complete with air conditioning and curtains on the windows.  We felt a little like secret service or something since no one could see in.  It was very clean and comfortable … at least before we started the trip.

Traveling to the first site, Dair al-Garnous, took about 40 minutes.  I had been prepared for Emma to get car sick because she sometimes does, and I warned her that if she started to feel sick, she should close her eyes and lay her head back.  After about 30 minutes, she said she wasn’t feeling good, so she actually laid down in the empty back seat.  Hannah laid on my lap most of the time, not sleeping exactly, but resting.   I should have taken that as a clue that she wasn’t feeling well, but I didn’t think of it.  With about ten minutes left in the trip, although we didn’t really know how much longer it would be, Hannah wanted to join Emma in the back.  I didn’t mention yet that the road we traveled on was sometimes just dirt, very bumpy, and required lots of stopping to let the donkey carts, people, or other animals pass by, so it wasn’t a very smooth ride.  I took Hannah back myself because I didn’t want her to fall over.  A couple minutes after getting to the back, Hannah lost her breakfast all over herself and me.  I quickly called for Jayson’s assistance and he got me the bag I had prepared for Emma.  It didn’t do too much good since Hannah didn’t give us the warning that Emma usually does, and my clothes and hers were pretty much a mess.  I sent Emma toward the front because I didn’t want her to get sick from the smell, and I would have liked to get out of there at that point too since my stomach wasn’t doing too well either from all the bumping around.  Jayson offered me his undershirt to wear under my sweater; fortunately I had taken off my sweater since it was warm in the van, so I could wear his undershirt under my still-clean sweater.  I had a change of clothes for Hannah since she is still being potty trained, so I took off her dirty clothes and let Jayson hold her in her dressed-down state while I changed and cleaned up.  All in all, we didn’t get too much in the van itself.

When we were about one minute away, Hannah and I were changed and Jayson was holding Emma when she said “bag.”  We quickly grabbed the bag Hannah had used and caught Emma’s breakfast.  Poor kids!  She managed to stay quite clean thanks to her forewarning, and Jayson did too.  Good thing as we didn’t have any more clothes to spare!  And with that, we arrived at the site, all four of us feeling a bit queasy, and glad to get out, walk around a bit in the fresh air.

This first site was actually the second of the two in order of Jesus’ visits.  Since it was Friday morning, the day of worship for most Egyptians, the church at the site was filled with children having Sunday school.

This place was interesting because it was in an entirely Christian village of about 12,000 people.  No Muslims live in this town.  The well where Jesus’ family drank from was locked up, but we saw it, and by the end of our time there, they found a key so Jayson could drink from it. 

We all drank some Sprite to settle our stomachs, and I visited the bathroom while Jayson and Emma climbed the steps to the top of the under-construction new church

so they could see the whole village.  Since this post has been graphic enough, I won’t share too many details of the bathroom.  It wasn’t the most pleasant experience, and they didn’t have anything but a hole in the ground, and I did think to myself while I was in there, “Oh boy, what a trip this has been,” but we made the best of it, and Hannah and I soon joined the other two at the top of the building.  I remember being glad that both girls lost their breakfast in the van, as I thought they might have trouble using the facilities if they needed them. 

The view was very interesting with lots of unique things on people’s roofs like pigeons, chickens and ducks, which people raise to sell.   The roofs here are flat so that allows for people to store things, or raise things on them until they may decide to add another floor to their existing building. 

The steeple of the evangelical church in town was not too far from this site. 

The one unique thing about what we saw from our view was that there were no mosques … a rare thing in Egypt.

But, as I said, this was an entirely Christian village, and we later found out that when a Muslim family wanted to move in, they were refused.

After looking around for a bit and taking some pictures, we climbed back into the van … somewhat hesitantly.  We knew the ride to the next place would also be bumpy, but we hoped for the best.  We all sat as close to the front as we could, and each held a daughter on our lap.  The girls took a short nap and Jayson and I kept our eyes closed as we rode to the next place.  Fortunately it didn’t take too long to get to Shineen al-Nasara, which means ‘garden of the Christians’ in the Coptic language, where the Holy Family had come directly from Maadi (our current town) and spent seven days before traveling on.  This was an interesting place for us to visit because this is where our host had been priest for about 20 years. They had a life-size manger scene set up and the girls enjoyed getting close to baby Jesus and the animals, cardboard, though they were. 

Then we entered the church where Jayson took pictures and the girls played “church,” and I just sat and rested.  The church was decorated with streamers and balloons for the holiday celebrations of New Years and Christmas.

It was an interesting look considering Coptic churches are filled with icons of Jesus, Mary, the apostles and other saints; the streamers and balloons didn’t quite fit in.  The church also houses a 500-year old baptismal, a small one, since it is for infants.

We couldn’t stay in the church too long since a funeral was about to take place.  Just 30 seconds after we exited, the wailing women came into the church followed by a group of men carrying a coffin high above their heads.  We went to a different building in the complex where they had two smaller churches, a guesthouse and a large reception room. 

We climbed to the roof to get a better view of the surrounding area and we could see the thirteen domes on top of the church—representing the twelve apostles, with a larger one representing Jesus. 

We climbed back down the steps and saw another well which the Holy Family drank from, and also the plaque on the wall with the names of the people who helped to build the building, our priest being one of them.

Then it was time to climb back in the van for our return trip to the priest’s house for lunch.  We had planned to visit a third site after lunch, but seeing what the long car rides did to the girls, and knowing they really needed afternoon naps, especially as we planned to go to someone else’s house for a 9:30pm dinner, we decided to split responsibilities and let Jayson visit the site while I stayed home and napped with the girls.  So Jayson may write about his visit in a later post.

The rest of the day was somewhat restful—after too big of a lunch, the girls and I, along with the priest’s wife, all took naps, while Jayson and the priest went to visit the site of a modern day saint, whose lowly dwelling place has now been transformed into a massive church as a place for local pilgrimage. It was a late nap for Emma and Hannah, but we figured a late night was coming up, and we were right.

Around 8:15pm, the priest and Jayson finally returned home to pick us up to take us a few blocks to one of his daughter’s houses.  She had visited us the night before and really wanted to meet the girls, but they were already in bed.  It worked out for our schedules to visit and have dinner with her and her husband on this night so we climbed 8 floors to their new apartment as they are still waiting for their elevator to be installed.  Everyone was quite concerned for me, being pregnant, but the steps didn’t bother me at all.  Even Emma and Hannah walked the whole way up.  The apartment was very nice, and we enjoyed some nice conversation as Emma proceeded into a separate living room where she eventually put all of the pillows from the couches, maybe 6 or 7 large pillows and 3 or 4 smaller ones in all, on the floor and created a pillow train to jump on. 

She was having a blast, and Hannah joined her. 

Even though I am sure the furniture was brand new, our hosts didn’t mind and in fact, enjoyed the entertainment the girls provided.  At around 9:15, they asked if we wanted to eat dinner yet, or just feed the girls, and I said that we were ready to eat dinner, but I guess it was still early for them.  They kind of agreed as 10pm is more normal for them, so we compromised and said between 9:30-9:45 we could aim to eat.  Good thing the girls got late naps! 

Dinner was delicious, but once again, way too big!  We had a plate full of rice, large pieces of chicken, kefta, another meat dish, cut up raw vegetables and okra.  At just about every meal, we had to eat some of everything, and I felt like I ate quite a bit, yet at each meal they asked me, “Why haven’t you eaten anything yet?  Why does your plate look the same as when you started?”  We really had to insist that we had enough, everything was delicious, and thank you, thank you, thank you!  We sat and talked and drank Pepsi and ate fruit for another hour or so after dinner was over, as the priest fell asleep on the couch after his very busy few days. 

Finally, after 11pm, we were able to take a group picture

and then leave their house, descending the 8 flights of stairs and returning to our hosts’ house.  Fortunately, our next day wasn’t starting too early, and we could sleep in.  But for now, the Christmas celebrations were over and therefore Day 3 ends this series of posts!

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

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Personal

Coptic Christmas: Day Two

The lack of sleep did cost us the next morning, though, as we were due to pay a visit to the area bishop for breakfast at 8:00am sharp. In the Coptic Orthodox Church the bishop is only one level below the pope, and carries great authority and responsibility. Christmas duties pressed on everyone, but he allowed us about an hour of his time, and the exchange of greetings was necessary on both sides. For us and the priest, it would have been an offence if we did not honor him with a visit, however short. The same would have applied if he failed to receive the foreign visitors in his area. Needing to receive the governor in only an hour, however, he allowed us a few questions, gave us Christmas gifts of wooden and cloth crosses in addition to an icon of the Virgin Mary, and allowed us our leave. The priest himself was due at his church in the village, so we left promptly.

The responsibilities, however, were simple. All he had to do was sit in his office and receive Christmas greetings. It made for little conversation as every two minutes in the morning another child would enter, kiss his hand, and then leave. This continued for about two hours, interspersed with a phone call of Christmas greetings every minute in between. It was somewhat boring, to tell the truth, but it was a complete cultural experience.

All during this time the church grounds were an open playground. As parents enjoyed a morning of rest their kids gathered and exploded miniature firecrackers one after the other. They were clearly enjoying themselves, but as I sat in the office I could only imagine the chaos outside, except for when the kids threw their fireworks inside. Surrounded by walls, the noise was deafening, but the priest did not seem to mind at all. I got increasingly perturbed, but what can you do when this is normal and accepted behavior? I have noticed that priest may have a slight hearing problem; after twenty-plus years of service, these bi-yearly celebrations can perhaps take their toll. My imagination of the chaos, however, can be presented as reality by Julie, who was outside with the girls, and will take over the authorship of this next session.

I don’t think Emma enjoyed herself too much.  I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant that we would go sit at the church and “play” all day.  I knew Emma liked to play with kids, but the sheer number of the kids would probably overwhelm her.  What I imagined came true.  We arrived to a crowd of children, dressed in their new Christmas clothes.  They surrounded our car, knocking on the windows and holding out bags of chips to our children who were behind the closed windows.  It really felt like a Hollywood star experience, and we were the celebrities.  As we entered the courtyard through the church gates, the kids followed the car.  We parked and got out and they just kind of stared and smiled at us as we exited the car.  I offered typical Christmas greetings, “May you be well all year,” as I carried Hannah and Jayson carried Emma.  Wherever we walked with them, the kids followed, not saying much, but not leaving us alone either.  Emma was overwhelmed, but handling it okay.  Jayson and the priest went into the office, and told us we could play out in the courtyard.  So, holding Emma’s hand, and Hannah in the other arm, we walked around, surrounded by kids.  We eventually went to a ledge that was in the sun and sat down in the warmth.  The kids surrounded us, some of them saying in English, “What’s your name?” or, “How are you?” to the girls, and not getting much of a response.  The firecrackers either started then or else that was when we noticed them, and from that moment on, Emma’s hands were up on her ears every time she was outside the office.  It probably looked kind of funny to the kids, but I felt bad for her.  They offered her the firecrackers; I’m not sure what their thought was: Does she hold it as its lit and then throw it, or is it just something for her to hold in her hand?  I kept refusing and told the kids that she doesn’t like noise; it scares her and hurts her ears.  This seemed a foreign concept to them.  They offered chips or cookies, which was about the only thing the girls responded to positively.  They asked me their names and I told them.  An older girl asked if I knew a certain game, and I didn’t understand her.  She said they wanted the girls to play with them.  I said, “Okay, we can try.  If you all start playing, the older one may join you.”  But everyone just stood there.  I wasn’t sure what they wanted us to do.  How do fifty children play exactly?  I didn’t see a ball and it didn’t seem they were going to organize a big game, yet, we had the directive to “play.”  One of the older boys started trying to disperse the crowd to go play so maybe we could move around or get up, so I took both girls by the hands, well, Emma by the elbow because her hand was covering her ears, and we walked around the courtyard, looking for people playing, yet still being followed by a crowd of children who were NOT playing.  The noise of the firecrackers was really getting to Emma, and at some points, the kids would throw the lit noisemaker near us.  I don’t really think it was malicious, but it did seem intentional.  I think it just enthralled them to see someone so affected by the noise, as they obviously weren’t.  Emma said she wanted to go to daddy, so we all went into the office, where we finally could sit in peace for a bit.  For the next few hours, we either sat in the office, where we usually had some sort of snack from someone, or we walked around the courtyard, Hannah’s hand and Emma’s elbow in my hands, walking around, followed by children and the sound of firecrackers.  When it got too much, we would reenter the office and sit for awhile again.  After awhile, the thought of “playing” all day at the church, didn’t sound too fun!

Ok, Jayson is back. Around noon the priest’s brother came into the office and offered to take us to his house in the village where we were to have lunch around 3:00pm. That seemed a very good idea for the girls, but I thought it best that I stay there in the office. I walked with them to his home, about five minutes away, to keep all propriety, promising the priest I would be back shortly. All seemed fine with the brother’s family, and by the time I came back the ATM had opened. The priest had stacks of bills which he was distributing one by one as each child entered, kissed his hand, and received his $0.045 cents. This apparently was a custom for the holidays.

When this ended the sitting became much more enjoyable. The men of the village now came to pay their Christmas greetings, and several of them would sit and talk for a while, especially the ones who were working abroad or in Cairo and came home for the occasion. I even met someone who was working in Jordan, as a gardener in the church we worshiped in way back when. Many of these people only return home once a year, but some can come more frequently. It is especially hard because most have left their families in the home village.

Julie and the girls were able to take a nap before lunch, and I took mine afterwards. By this time, though, the news was filling the village. Six Christians were gunned down as they existed Christmas mass. Not everyone really knew what was going on, but all expressed concern, though not surprise. Many Christians have surrendered themselves to the idea that the country is against them, and this was just the latest confirmation. Even at that early point, however, there were complicating features, or at least rumors. This event was said to be connected to an ongoing controversy related to a nearby village, in which a Christian was said to have raped a Muslim girl, and the Muslims then responded against the Christians at large as the perpetrator of the crime escaped. In Upper Egypt the practice of revenge killings is not uncommon, and this may have been a continuation. Or, it may have been terrorism clear and simple. ‘Terrorists’ was the word on most of the Christians’ lips.

After lunch ended we left the village, returning to Maghagha, and things were quiet as the priest had to leave for family responsibilities, allowing me to write much of this summary. We had dinner earlier that night, at around 11:00pm, but we had put the girls to bed around 9:00pm. With a full stomach once again we weren’t much in the mood for sleep, and enjoyed good theological conversation until 2:00am, taking full advantage of our time together. It was another long but good day, but with a pall over the events of the day.

The events also could threaten us, as surely the security would be increased throughout the country. Would we be able to continue our program? The next day we were to visit two places reputed to be visited by the Holy Family during their escape to Egypt, and another place which was a pilgrimage site for a modern day saint. Would we be sent home immediately? Would we be confined to the priest’s home? There was no worry about safety whatsoever, but as we finally did collapse into sleep, there were concerns aplenty. The ones highlighted here in this last paragraph pertain to us, but may our prayers highlight those concerns of the country, pertaining to all.

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A Coptic Christmas of Joy and Sorrow

There is complicating news today. It is significant enough that you may already know about it. Six Christians and a policeman were killed today in an ambush as they were exiting midnight mass in an Upper Egyptian town to the north of Luxor. I wish to be careful in conveying information because I have been far from the news in our relative isolation in Maghagha, over ten hours away from the attack, but it has been the talk of the community since we awoke this morning.

Our day began in Maadi, as we fought through Cairo traffic to get to the train station in Giza. We left a full hour to arrive, thinking this would be plenty as the station is just on the other side of the Nile River. We should have known better. We left on the 6th of January, a Wednesday, but in addition to all the Christians who would be in transit to get to their homes and churches, there was weekend traffic with which to contend. Coptic Christmas, the 7th of January, is a national holiday, so whereas Thursday night is often prime traffic with the Friday-Saturday weekend, Christmas led to a three day weekend for the entire country, and it seemed like the nation had emptied onto the streets.

We did arrive on time, but with only about fifteen minutes to spare. We appeared to be the only foreigners at the location, asked about how and where to board the train, had a policeman direct us informing him we were traveling to Maghagha, and settled into our seats, which were reserved by number. The train was very comfortable and we by coincidence sat next to another couple also traveling to Maghagha, and enjoyed pleasant conversation with them the entire two and a half hour journey.

Upon our arrival I am afraid we may have offended some. It was fairly comical, at least from our perspective. It is a bit complicated to descend from a train with two small children, a pack-and-play, suitcase, and backpack, but we managed, and it was no surprise to find a willing porter ready to help us with our bags. If any of you would wish to visit us, please be prepared for this at the airport. They can be friendly, helpful, and by comparison inexpensive, but they can also be insistent.

The first thing we should have noticed is that this porter was not very insistent. He offered to help me with the suitcase, and per custom I refused, with a quick ‘no thank you’, barely an exchange of glances, and began advancing. It may not be the most polite manner, but you get used to the necessity of not getting drawn into conversation, lest you be forever unable to escape.

My advancement, however, was quickly halted as I found the gentleman who was to receive us. Our stay was arranged with the priest of a village not far from Maghagha, but due to our late arrival (now about 9:30pm) he was already involved in leading mass. In his place he sent his brother, who now began helping us with our bags, but only for a moment.

Within two minutes he was surrounded by the police, among them the ‘porter’ who earlier tried to help us as we got off the train. It was all very friendly, and no one was unnerved, but Julie counted seven people who were involved in our arrival. Who are you? Who are they? Why are they coming? Where are they going? Each question had a very simple answer, and the appropriate people recorded the information, finally taking a look at our passports and recording our names. They continued to escort us to the priest’s brother’s car, with a small diversion as I remembered it would be better to purchase tickets for our return trip before we departed the station. It turned out this was rather unfruitful, for the trains were sold out on the day we had purposed to leave as well as the next day, except for either the 5:00am train or the one leaving at midnight. At this point we have no return ticket, but the police assured everything would be taken care of. As great as their attention had been to this point, it seemed the best thing to trust their word. They indicated, if I understood correctly, that we should just show up at the normal time of departure at 10:30am or 1:00pm, and we would (likely) find a place. In any case, the priest would take care of everything.

Here is the background, some of which is known, some of which is conjecture, all of which is the normal and expected procedure. My boss has been friends with this priest for many years, and he selected him for our visit to Upper Egypt in part because he has a very good manner with his Muslim neighbors and the regional authorities. In securing the priest’s agreement for us to visit, he then informed the police in our area, who also gave their approval. This is the known. The conjecture is that the policeman I inquired with concerning how to board the train likely conveyed his knowledge to the station in Maghagha. Therefore it should have been no surprise to find the concerned authorities as part of our official welcome.

The normal and expected procedure has been in place for many years. Egypt has had sporadic violence against foreign tourists who visit the Pharonic heritage sites in Upper Egypt, and consistently sends all tourists with a police escort. Foreigners who go to places like Maghagha, however, are much less frequent, and generally have very limited reasons to be there. Their presence attracts attention, and Egypt is concerned about their security. In a country which depends to a great extent on tourism and outside investment, the death of a foreigner could have wide ramifications. Upper Egypt has a reputation as being a haven of Islamist activity, and while the vast majority of people are against violence of any kind, including the vast majority of Islamists, there are pockets of extremist sentiment. Though the government has made great strides in combating these elements, they do still exist, as was seen today.

The police presence takes some getting used to, but it is very friendly. At the station the officer who recorded my passport information apologized several times. One of their number joined us in the car and accompanied us to the church in the village fifteen minutes from Maghagha, where the mass was in progress, and then joined with his colleagues who make up the normal guard outside the church during every mass, but especially during holidays. He came in a few times to check in on us, and when everything ended two officers joined us on the trip back to Maghaga. One sat on the lap of the other in the passenger seat, and they joked with the priest almost the entire trip home. The next day we returned to the village to join in Christmas day celebrations, and though they checked regularly with the priest about our program, they generally left us to ourselves, as best we knew. Even so, it is now 10:00pm, and an office just knocked on the door of the priest’s home to inquire if we are going out again tonight. After assuring him we were done for the day, we may have allowed him an early evening home.

In terms of the chronology of the day, however, we return to the Christmas Eve mass. We arrived about 10:30pm with an hour and a half of a four hour service remaining. Our girls were doing remarkably well given the hour, and though Hannah largely stayed quiet (but not sleeping) on Julie’s lap, Emma was having a great time. Automatically becoming the guests of honor we were ‘seated’ in the first row of the church, directly in front of the altar boys. Seated is a misnomer as most of the mass requires standing, and as I held Emma she preferred standing on the dividing wall between the congregants and the altar boys, and quite attracted their attention. Three of them in particular paid no further care to the mass and played with her the whole time. Emma was alternatingly shy and engaging, but was causing no stir. There were several children milling about in the pews, and the worshipper standing next to us was goading her the whole time, and was even father of one of the three altar boys. It was fun to join in the chants while at the same time catching Emma as she turned from the attention, slipped off the wall, and fell into my arms. It may not be acceptable behavior for most masses, but on this occasion we fit right in.

As the mass ended the priest left rather quickly and we returned to his home with the aforementioned escort. In the car our girls finally fell asleep, but of course woke upon arrival, which may have been good since food was waiting for all. Though actual practice varies, Orthodox Egyptians fast for fifty-five days before Christmas. The fast is of a vegetarian variety, as all meat beside fish is prohibited. Christmas then becomes the worthy celebration, and the meat flows freely. In addition to a plate of rice and a bowl of salad, there was chicken and the most delicious beef I have ever eaten. It did make me wonder, however, how many ‘foolish’ things we do in our celebrations of which we are unaware. After fifty-five meatless days, it seems strange to gorge on such a feast, especially at 1:00am. We did not have the most pleasant sleep that evening (morning?), but there were no regrets concerning the consumption.

To be continued…

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Personal

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve

You may remember Jayson’s post from Dec. 25 entitled “Today is Not Christmas”.  Well, we have been able to extend our celebration of Christmas being here in Egypt, and finally, tomorrow, January 6, we will celebrate Coptic Christmas Eve.  We are still establishing our traditions, as he mentioned, but for this first Christmas in Egypt, we decided to travel to a town about 3 hours south of Cairo, called Maghagha.  We will travel by train tomorrow evening, arriving around 10pm as the Coptic Church is in full swing for their very special Christmas Eve service.  All over Egypt, Christians will be worshipping God in their churches until midnight, at which time they will return to their homes for the big Christmas meal.  One of the reasons the meal occurs directly after the midnight mass is that traditionally, Copts fast for 40+ days prior to Christmas.  This fast includes abstaining from all animal products, and thus, once midnight of Christmas Eve hits, the fast is broken, and the Christians can celebrate the birth of their Savior with food and fellowship.

I am sure we will have more to say about this when we return from our trip on Saturday, but for now, just know that we will participate as best we can in this midnight mass, with our two little ones in tow, and then in the Christmas feast at someone’s house, again, with our two little ones preferably sleeping in tow.  I am sure we will have many stories and adventures to share following four days of celebration outside of Cairo.  Stay tuned.

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Arab West Report Books Middle East Published Articles

Two Thousand Years of Coptic Christianity

Two thousand years of Coptic Christianity is the title of a book by Otto Meinardus, a renowned scholar on the history, practice, and theology of the Coptic Orthodox Church. His work is widely accepted as the standard reference book for all inquiries into the development of this particular expression of faith. Upon reading it, I could only agree.

My strongest agreement, however, is expressed in its description as a reference book. When I asked a well read friend to recommend me a book with which to understand the Coptic Church, he immediately thought of Meinardus. While gladly loaning me his copy, though, he added, but this is a book you must eventually buy for yourself. I didn’t understand this at the time; like with most books I wished to read it, profit from it, and then give it back to its owner. Rarely if ever does a book get read twice – why should anyone ever purchase?

Upon my reading I discovered why, though the jury is still out if I will eventually buy it for myself. The first half of the book is a comprehensive survey of Coptic history, beginning not even with Mark—believed to be the founder of Christianity in Egypt—but with Jesus. The Gospels tell the story of the Holy Family’s flight to Egypt to escape the sword of King Herod. While the Gospel details are few, Coptic legend-slash-history thoroughly establishes their itinerary, proceeding even to sites hundreds of kilometers from Palestine in Upper Egypt. At each significant place of their travel there is a church dedicated to the event. These churches have an ancient history, lending credibility to antiquity of the tradition.

Meinardus does not judge. Though he comments often on this progression, he generally presents the details and leaves the historical queries to other works. His treatment of subsequent Christian development is similar. He tells the tales that surround the preaching and martyrdom of Mark, and of the first communities of Christians that began the transformation of the Pharaohnic character of Egypt. Elements of this story involve the miraculous, which does not stop with the end of the apostolic age. Meinardus continues to list the traditions surrounding the acts of prominent bishops and monks, and especially the martyrs from the eras of persecution. Monasteries and martyrdom are among the pillars of Coptic Christianity, and Meinardus provides a window into the worldview of the church.

He also delves into the development of theology, which is easier to document. Treatment is given to the great Christological debates which divided the early church, but proceeds into the production of Coptic canon law. The great figures who wrote these documents and the ancient liturgies, so obscure to Western readers, are given their names and accomplishments in print. Meinardus has respect to the cloud of witnesses which has gone before, and honors their legacy.

Yet not all the names are obscure. Athanasius, the great champion of orthodoxy against the Arian heresy and compiler of the Biblical canon of Scripture, was the pope of the Coptic Church. Cyril and Gregorius are not as well known, but are still familiar names to students of church history. St. Anthony, the founder of monasticism, was Egyptian, as was the Thebian Legion whose memory is enshrined in many European cities for their refusal to deny their Lord and subsequent martyrdom. Coptic Christianity, in fact, lies behind much of the history of Christianity in Europe, as their monks and missionaries carried the Gospel throughout the continent, and to Ireland especially. Many people are aware of the vital role played by the Irish in the Christianization of Europe; less known is that the origin is Coptic. Meinardus supplies the names and stories of the Egyptian contributors.

Meinardus continues the story into the middle and modern ages, describing the interactions of the church with Islam, during both its tolerant and repressive epochs. Less detail than I desired was given to the question of why the church declined over time, but this is a difficult issue to address; histories are written of triumph and progression—who records the record of loss? Nevertheless, Meinardus provides a window into this near-unknown era, and understanding of the history will take many readings simply to establish familiarity. This becomes easier as modernity approaches, and Meinardus describes Coptic dealings with successive Turkish, French, and British empires. Special attention is given to the deep revival of the church during the 20th Century, which continues to this day. A blog post all its own is necessary, however, to do justice to this phenomenon.

All that is listed above was both interesting and worthy of owning as a personal record, though the story in its broad strokes may be told elsewhere. The second half of Meinardus’ book, though, both establishes and possibly condemns it to serve as a reference book. From here on Meinardus becomes a list-maker, as nearly every monastery, church, and saint’s shrine is given a place in his text, complete with details of the relics therein. I read the majority of the book while I was staying at Makarius Monastery in Wadi Natrun, which is home also to additional historic monasteries established as early as the 4th Century. It was fascinating to read the history of where I was. The other chapters were a chore to read, however, simply because I have no context to appreciate them. If I anticipate a future visit to such-and-such village in Upper Egypt I will open Meinardus and read of the churches there, but otherwise, what good does this information do me?

I hope, however, to visit such-and-such village. I imagine that our work will take me throughout Egypt to discover the many different facets of Egyptian life, Christian and otherwise. To view the foundational facts will require reference to Meinardus, and for this his book seems essential to own. I would recommend the first half of the book to anyone interested in Coptic Christianity, but I will likely in time find better, or at least equal, books to recommend. As a reference book, however, Two Thousand Years of Coptic Christianity will likely stand alone. It is recommended to anyone desiring to study Coptic Christianity, and for long term life in Egypt, if there is a desire to honor its Christian heritage, it is a must.

Click here to purchase from Amazon: Two Thousand Years of Coptic Christianity

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Personal

Today is Not Christmas…

… but neither am I Scrooge. Well, that could be interpreted as a matter of opinion, as may be seen.

Perhaps many of you are aware that in Egypt, Christmas is celebrated on January 7. I imagine there are deep and profound historical reasons for this, but to date I have not cared particularly enough to research them. Coptic Orthodoxy split apart, or rather was expelled, from the to-become Catholic faith at the time of the Chalcedonian creed, I believe in 451. One of the consequences was a divergence in fixing the celebration of Jesus’ birth, which for early Christians was never regarded with any importance. Easter also became separately marked, though this was of greater import, both biblically and liturgically.

We discovered while living in Jordan that the Christians there created a novel solution. The Coptic and Orthodox branches of Christianity, about evenly split in the country, agreed to celebrate Western Christmas on December 25, and Eastern Easter according to the lunar rites of the Orthodox Church. I would wish that the worldwide church might make such an agreement as well. For our part in America I imagine this would be easy. Ubiquitous Western culture has established December 25 as Christmas even throughout the non-Christian world, and none of us can ever figure out when Easter is going to be anyway. What would be the difficulty in uniting with our Eastern brothers in faith by celebrating Easter according to their calendar? I doubt anyone would even know the difference.

This could be harder for the Orthodox, however, as it could be seen as yielding to the very unchristian culture which surrounds the birth of Jesus. What should stop the Western world, however, from making a unilateral gesture of unity to Orthodoxy by taking up their Easter? Perhaps the Pope could champion this cause from the Catholic side; if he did, would Protestants go along? Or, under what scenario could the initiative emerge from the Protestant community; who might lead us forward? Might any of you propose such a measure this year in your churches? Might you develop a sufficient sense of belonging to the worldwide church so as to contemplate it?

Our sense of belonging to Egypt, however, has created in us a bit of a quandary. When is our Christmas? Most foreigners here simply celebrate December 25 as they always have, and the local expatriate community churches host Christmas Eve services and have times of caroling. For those spending time abroad away from home, certainly this is a welcome reminder of valued traditions.

But it completely misses Egypt. The non-Orthodox Egyptian Christian community is but a small percentage of the millions of Coptic faithful. Again, I lack the history of why and if this was always so, but the Egyptian Catholic and Protestant Churches celebrate Christmas in unity with their brethren, on January 7. Though Jordan also was a predominantly Muslim country, there were still Christmas lights hanging from the windows of Christian apartments and manger scenes set up among the families we would visit. Here, there is nothing. Not only is there no Christmas cheer, but the Orthodox precede Christmas with fifty-five days of fasting. As we went to sleep last night, it was almost eerie to imagine the excitement among children back in America, and the labors of parents to run the gauntlet through that most sacred of national institutions, the mall. Here, save for the sounding of the call to prayer, there is silence.

This is not quite true, however, and it creates a confusion that is quite palpable. The Orthodox are proud of their traditions and history; why then are there so many trappings of Western Christmas? Last Friday at the Orthodox Church we attend was held the annual church bazaar. There were Santa Clauses being sold, wreathes to buy, and a big sign proclaiming, “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!” Why was this not reversed in order? Are the Egyptians yielding in fact to the inevitability of Western cultural dominance? Or, is there simply no escape?

There is a possible explanation in that this church in particular was consecrated on either December 24th or 25th, and from the coincidence of Christmas the two celebrations blend together. Another explanation is that the Christians also celebrate New Year, and the holiday festivities start early, continue through the end of 2009, and pick up steam as true Christmas approaches. Perhaps, but later this evening we will attend the choir concert at this church, which will feature carols in both Arabic and English. We do not have the benefit of familiarity over time; is this normal, both here and throughout Egypt?

In any case, what should we do? The principles of belonging suggest that we should do as the Egyptians do and celebrate according to their calendar. No one claims that Jesus was actually born on this day, so what does it matter? We also have the benefit of having children young enough not to be traumatized by a different date. We could just ignore the 25th and then let the momentum build in both family and country in expectation of the 7th. Yet if this can be interpreted as the noble solution, what do we do in the face of the ignoble bowings to yuletide found among so many Copts? Do they themselves open our door to the legitimacy of Western celebrations?

 Regardless, the noble solution may not be the easiest, or even healthiest. While our children may be able to switch with little difficulty, we ourselves cannot. Furthermore, what of the phone calls back to family in America? These will not stop, but how will they be defined? We have taken to saying, “It is Christmas in America,” but this is forced. I nearly prayed this morning at breakfast, both unconsciously and with a smirk on my face, “Thank you God that Jesus was born in America today.” Of course I will not play with such blasphemy, but is this a duality that can be maintained?

If only for year one in Egypt, we will try to maintain it. Perhaps our children will grow up bragging, “We get to celebrate two Christmases!” Our current solution is to avoid the expatriate church focus on the 25th, in the manner which we generally avoid this church anyway. Still, we will wake on Western Christmas and have a special breakfast, after which we will open our stockings. Before lunch we will participate with other foreign friends by taking a boat ride on the Nile. Later in the day we will call our families to join in their celebrations, and will close the day at the aforementioned Orthodox choir sing. All this will be Christmas, in very nature and being.

Yet it will not be Christmas, amen and amen. Eastern Christmas is still to come. I am not sure what this will entail in terms of participation in the greater life of the Coptic community. For ourselves, though, we will leave the opening of presents until this day, when we will also have a cake to celebrate Jesus’ birthday. Perhaps this suggests that we will treat the 7th as ‘true Christmas’. So be it. We can never leave behind our own culture, nor should we try. Yet we should give ourselves as completely as possible to those we live among, and the sole celebration of the 25th would be tantamount to insisting, “We are not of you, we remain foreigners.” It is doubtful that anyone would care; they expect foreigners to remain so. Yet we hope that if only in a symbolic way some might see our holiday adoption, albeit short of transfer, as an expression of love and appreciation.

The celebration of Christmas, on either the 25th or the 7th, is a celebration of incarnation. The word of God took on flesh, and dwelt among us. Following this pattern, all who follow him can take on the flesh of those they live among. As he remained God, so we will remain American, and all will keep the identity they possess. None of this need be set aside, but so much more can be added. For the good of Egypt, for the good of all the communities in which we live, and for the good of our very souls, may such incarnation take hold.

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Personal

A Protestant on Peacemaking

A little while ago I had an opportunity to dialogue with Rev. Safwat al-Bayyadi, who is the President of the Protestant Churches of Egypt. My summary of this conversation has been published on Arab West Reports, which you can access by clicking here.

As I remarked once before, it is a great benefit of my work that I get to meet such influential people. Rev. al-Bayyadi was able to provide me with a bird’s-eye perspective on Christianity in Egypt, encompassing all but especially from a Protestant perspective. While the title for the reverend is correct – President of the Protestant Churches of Egypt – it is interesting to note that generally speaking the Protestant churches here all go by the name of ‘Evangelical’. I haven’t yet asked enough questions to know why, but it may be that within Egypt ‘Protestant’ could seem like a foreign entity, brought from the West, and therefore suspect, while ‘Evangelical’ is more of Biblical terminology. Though this decision was made long ago, in recent years the ‘Evangelical’ title may result in negative association with the Bush administration and the general support the American Evangelical Christian community gives to foreign policy in Iraq and Israel.

If only from a small outsider’s perspective, I would note that in calling their denomination ‘Evangelical’, Egyptian Protestants may have done themselves a disservice. While the motivation I have briefly come in contact with is laudable, it may have unfortunate consequences. In America, ‘Evangelical’ is an adjective, describing a certain understanding of Christianity. While my rendering here is off-the-cuff, it generally refers to an understanding that is centered on the Bible above tradition, focused on a personal expression of faith, and accepts the necessity of communication of the Gospel message. Thus in America while ‘Evangelical’ is generally understood to be Protestant but not mainline, and has also acquired conservative political associations, in terms of the definition given it is not unusual to find evangelical Catholics, Orthodox, or otherwise. I wonder if in naming themselves ‘Evangelical’ Egyptian Protestants may unwittingly limit the description of the definition from being applied also to the larger Orthodox community. Like I said, I haven’t explored this much yet, but I wonder.

In any case, though Protestant and Orthodox relations here seem mainly positive, there have been recent examples of accusations thrown cross-denominationally. Specifically, at times Orthodox leadership sees Protestants as ‘sheep stealers’, conducting organized efforts to ‘turn Egypt Protestant’ by winning over the youth. You can read a press review on this topic by clicking here.

On the other hand, in my personal interactions with individual Orthodox Egyptians, almost everyone has expressed appreciation for the Protestant Church here. While they hold to their distinctive doctrines, they commend the Protestants for their skills in Bible memorization, vibrant sermons, praise music, and youth ministry. They emphasize that there is only one faith, shared by all denominations, though particular understandings of faith differ, and may reflect the truth closer or farther from correct Biblical understanding. Many families have members in each denomination, and many others worship in both churches. Julie has also found that Emma is not unique in attending the Sunday School sessions of both the local Protestant and Orthodox Church. 

In any case, I am making comments that could be better developed into another post later. For now, please accept my encouragement to read what Rev. al-Bayyadi has to say about the vital task of peacemaking in Egypt. His perspective is both noteworthy and gained from personal experience. If you didn’t do so earlier, you can click here for the text.

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Arab West Report Middle East Published Articles

‘Massacre’ in ‘Assiut’

Did the title of this post get your attention? If so, that is part of the problem of journalism in general, and of the press in Egypt in particular.

Among our work at Arab West Report is the translation of articles from the Egyptian press from Arabic into English. These are then put online, but while the summaries are generally only available to subscribers, occasionally I will be able to share some full text reports.

I have selected this link today about an incident which took place in Dayrut, in Upper Egypt several hours south of Cairo. While the articles we select often, though not always, have to do with religion, they represent the whole spectrum of life in Egypt in both Muslim and Christian thought and identity. Sometimes, however, the articles have to do with conflict between the two groups, and I have chosen this story both because it affected me personally and because it illustrates some of the realities about our life and work.

Please click on this link first.

Here you see illustrated the often sensationalist journalism that easily damages interreligious relationships. The author called this incident ‘a massacre’. Granted, it is a sordid story, but only two people died, though the gunfire was intense. The word ‘massacre’ however takes your attention. Indeed, I selected it first from among the thirty or forty articles we translated last week simply due to this title. The place-name in the title is also of consequence: Assiut. This is a large city in the south of Egypt with large concentrations of Christians, moderate members of the Muslim Brotherhood, and extremist Muslim splinter groups. Recent history has witnessed violent conflict in this area. Daryut is a village in proximity to Assiut, but is not even on its outskirts.

Once read, however, the author has done his job, even if the story does not measure up to the lead-in. Unfortunately, however, the title plays up the idea of sectarian conflict – Muslims ‘massacred’ Christians in ‘Assiut’. While the incident was nothing of the kind, this is the impression that is left in people’s mind, especially if they, like many of us, do not continue to get the whole story. It is a much more interesting headline than a revenge killing in some obscure village. In fact, such a story would likely not even warrant a headline.

But now read this link.

I paid attention to this story not just because of the word ‘massacre’ but also because our work involves the difficult goal of peacemaking between communities in tension. After reading the first story my mind moved on, but then the next day this report was issued, and my heart sunk.

There is so much I do not understand. After having lived in the Arab World for some time I do understand the concept of an honor killing. The first story made sense to me, though it is a world removed from our experiences in the West. Still, certainly someone who would violate the honor of my daughter would stir within me the desire for revenge acted upon in Dayrut. This second story, however, is incomprehensible.

Why would this incident escalate to the point that it did? It was a horrible crime, an honor killing came in response, and the matter should have been settled. What did the failure to release the killer incite in the community at large? Why would they respond this way against their innocent Christian neighbors?

I realize that sectarian conflict exists, but it should not have been ignited here. In our work we strive to understand the root issues involved, doing our best to always make the worst incidents understandable in context, even if justification is impossible. We also strive to remain neutral; we do not represent the church, we do not side with the Christians, we do not proclaim persecution. In reading this story, however, I was dumbstruck. The Christian identity in me, which is true and undeniable—its cancelling is not requested in our work, either from us or from our Muslim colleagues—proposed the word ‘barbarism’. Burning houses, destroying shops – what could cause this act of rage? Or was it an act of intentionality or opportunism? Either way, it calls out for the label of ‘barbarism’; the only question is the matter of degree.

Still, there must be some qualifying factors. It was clear from the first article that the author was sensationalist in choosing the word ‘massacre’. Here, the word better applies, though thankfully no one was killed. Surely they could have been; does this suppose that this was a targeted message and not a simple act of rage? Or can we picture it in appreciation of the culture that will allow violence but stops short of the taking of life? Our own culture can learn a lesson here, even in the midst of such ‘barbarism’. 

I wondered further, what does it mean that they burned houses? The picture in my head is of my parents’ home being reduced to ashes. Is that the reality? Or were the fires from smaller scale Molotov cocktails? Or of the shops which were destroyed; does this refer to rocks thrown through the windows? The reporting is full of detail, but especially as a foreigner the context is lacking. Though surely this is a regrettable occurrence, might it be the random activity of disenfranchised youth? From the article this could be the case. Or, it could be simple barbarism. Or, it is more likely something in between.

I have no picture yet of what that in between might be. This, however, is much of our work. This article succeeded in stimulating within me the type of Christian reaction which only worsens the situation. My immediate assumption was one of barbarism, and though this will not poison within me my estimation of Muslims, it may color my perception of the Muslims of Upper Egypt. But why should I allow a journalist to dictate my reactions?

Our work must move beyond our emotions to get at the true story, inasmuch as this is possible. We must look for the benefit of the doubt, but in the end, we must also call a spade a spade. Yet our work intends to go beyond good reporting, as necessary as this is. We wish to aim for peacemaking, but if we cannot without prejudice approach both sides in a spirit of understanding and in a commitment to truth, we will fail. We may fail anyway, but with spirit and truth, we may at the very least, hope.  

Postcript: Since these incidents took place there has been more reporting about Dayrut. Click here for a more detailed account of the atrocities, published by a Coptic newspaper in Egypt, Watani International. (‘Watani’ means ‘my country’ or ‘my homeland’ in Arabic). Finally, click here to read a press review of several newspapers, which provides a more even-handed treatment of the issue, including the most recent information.

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Personal

Grace in Loss

If you are a soccer fan, you probably already know the result. If you are not, you probably don’t care that much about knowing or not knowing. In either case, we hope the following account is amusing, if a bit disturbing. The title is not meant to be about the Egyptian people, but to be about God, at least in one perspective.

As Julie wrote the other day, I was at a monastery the past three days, and missed the monumental, last minute victory by Egypt over Algeria, forcing a playoff in Sudan. I did not miss the news reports leading up to the match, however, in which Egyptian fans stoned the Algerian bus as it drove into Cairo, injuring two players and giving a concussion to a trainer. Football was far from the minds of the monks, however, and there was even posted a sign to visitors to keep news from the outside to a minimum. Still, Julie texted me excitedly as Egypt’s late tally meant a winner-take-all playoff.

Coming home I discovered the match was to be played on Wednesday, on which I have my evening class at the Orthodox Biblical Institute. I have missed a couple classes due to work, and excused myself from the Monday class due to my stay at the monastery. I was hoping they would not count that, at least, against me. Not wanting to miss again, however, I would nevertheless catch the conclusion as my class ended at 9pm, while the match would end at 9:30, barring extra time.

When I arrived at the Institute the priest was late which didn’t bother any of the few students who had bothered to show up. My class is about fifty people strong, and there were only about fifteen who came. The presiding professor named 7:30 as the time we would abandon the class, but the priest came with fifteen minutes to spare, and class began. Of course, no one was really upset, since they had all chosen God over soccer just in attending. Class took awkward pauses every couple minutes, though, as a roar went up outside every time something exciting happened. The church which hosts the Institute had set up a large screen in the courtyard, and there were perhaps one hundred people gathered below our window, three floors down.

The priest decided to have mercy and ended the class after only an hour, and as we exited we heard the groan. Algeria scored to go up 1-0 just before the half. I saw the goal, actually, on the cell phone of one of my classmates who had fancy internet connectivity. He had offered me before the class started to sit beside him and watch; I did not, but I don’t know if he had earlier been sneaking or not.

We all descended to watch the second half, during which Algeria defended their lead resolutely. Egypt mustered a few chances, but the game ended weakly and everyone left quietly and disappointedly. My friend with the magical cell phone motioned for us to leave, and we quickly boarded the near-empty metro car to go home.

Along the way my friend’s one comment was that this was probably for the best. In fact, it was an act of God’s mercy. In the days leading up to the game certain Algerians had retaliated against Egyptian workers in their country. My friend took consolation in the loss, for if Egypt had won the Algerians would have slaughtered the Christian Egyptians in their midst. It was their nature, he said, they are savage and barbaric. Egyptian Christians, some will claim, can have difficulty with their Muslim neighbors, but Algerians are altogether in a different class.

So Egypt missed out once again; it has been since 1990 that they participated in a World Cup, though they are regularly one of the top teams in Africa, and have won the continental tournament several times in this stretch. I would have much preferred a victory. It would have made this summer more interesting if Egypt was involved, besides the fun I would have had in celebrating out and about in the streets. Where God’s wisdom lies however, is beyond my ability to fathom, but in a religious society such as this, many do not hesitate to interpret.

Categories
Personal

Miracle Stories

Can you notice what is ‘wrong’ with this picture?

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Our daughter Emma noticed right away. The picture is a clear inversion of the Gospel story in which Jesus washes his disciples’ feet. Emma asked, “Why is that man washing Jesus’ feet?” and the question is valid. Presented in such a manner the lesson is clear: We are to be servants of Jesus. This is a good message, of course, but it disturbs the radicalism of the Gospel in which Jesus established the basis of leadership to be service to all, especially the lowly.

Had Emma been born in the Orthodox Church, however, she would not have noticed a dissonance. The picture represents Saint Bishoy, who was renowned for his hospitality, and this picture represents the pinnacle establishment of his holiness. One day a visitor came to him, lowly in presentation, dirty from the travel. As was his custom, St. Bishoy stooped down to wash his feet. Only in the assumption of this command of his Lord to repeat his holy practice was the visitor then revealed to be none other than Jesus himself. This manifestation demonstrated God’s favor upon St. Bishoy, and the story was recorded for all history, here preserved in a stunning icon.

Though any Egyptian Christian child would have recognized this story immediately, I am unable to differentiate St. X from St. Y, or to know how it came to be that St. George killed a dragon. The icon above is from St. George’s Monastery in Khataba, Egypt, about a two hour drive northwest from Cairo. In conjunction with a class I am taking in a Coptic Bible Institute, a story I will have to relate later, I went with my family on a day trip to visit this and a sister monastery only about fifteen minutes further on. It was a wonderful view into Coptic spirituality, which is very monastic in its formation, and we heard many stories about the various saints which populate the Coptic imagination. In each monastery the relics of such-and-such saint were preserved, and prayers were offered at each in commemoration of their life.

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I am no longer as disturbed as I once was by the idea of praying to saints. This formulation, however, ‘praying to saints’ may simply be a Protestant slur to blacken the concept; surely we should pray only to God. On the other hand, it may represent the actual practice of many traditional Christians who perhaps feel that they are not worthy to approach God directly, or that a particular saint may more readily grant them favor. But as a concept: If I will not hesitate to ask my living brother to pray for the healing of my sick daughter, why should I hesitate to ask my departed brother now living in heaven? We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses watching with interest our terrestrial drama. Can their requests to God not also be marshaled on our behalf?

As I discussed these matters with my classmates—professional employees, university students, businessmen, all committed to God and his service in their church and country—each one was keen to convince me of the legitimacy of these practices. They have heard the critique of rational Western Protestantism, both from within and without Egyptian borders. They would link each practice to either the Bible or early church tradition, and I wish my Arabic was strong enough to fully understand their arguments. As I learn more, I will relate their tales, but inasmuch as these were my first lessons it was hard to grasp all their nuances. The fervency of their justifications, however, was noticed, as they sought to demonstrate they were not backwards, occultist Christians, anticipating an oft-heard criticism before I might voice it. They worship God alone; they pray to God alone. God, however, has left marks of his favor on certain of his saints.

St. Bishoy, for example, had his dead body preserved for centuries after his death as it had been the day he died, soft and supple. This story was repeated for other saints in other locales. This miraculous preservation of the corpse is a signal from God that such a person was particularly holy. In fact, St. Bishoy’s body only decayed in rebuke of a later Pope who departed from God’s favor.

We in the West have heard stories such as this, but largely assign them to the genre of pious legend. Certainly St. X and St. Y were holy people who lived God-pleasing lives. Yet after their death in preservation of their legacy the simple, pre-scientific peoples around them developed all sorts of miracle stories to idolize them. Perhaps this was innocent, perhaps it was sinister—a place of pilgrimage is generally also a place of commerce—but over the centuries the stories remained part and parcel of the saint’s history. Given that the Muslims of Egypt and elsewhere also have their celebrated miracle-working saints, it is easy for us today to dismiss these tales of ancient European and Mediterranean Christianity.

Yet the testimony of these professional, modern-educated lovers of God makes it harder to dismiss. If they were only preservers of ancient tradition, however, they could be excused for following in the credulity of their ancestors. The testimony, though, does not remain in the past.

One of my classmates spoke of the city of Damietta, on the northeastern shoreline of the Nile Delta. In that city is preserved the soft, supple body of a deceased saint from two centuries ago. The body is enclosed in glass casing, allowing the miracle to be witnessed by all. She invited us to join her family some day in the future to take a trip together to see it.

 Furthermore, she spoke of her own village in southern Egypt, which was served by a noble, but uncelebrated priest. One day the priest died of natural causes and was buried in ordinary fashion. Unknown outside of the village he was simply replaced by another priest, and life continued as usual.

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One day there was some reconstruction taking place in the village, and the local sewer line was disturbed. The pipes cracked and burst forth, spewing into the cemetery where the priest and many others were buried. It made quite a mess, and necessitated the transfer of the cemetery to another location. At this time, however, in unearthing the grave of the priest, buried traditionally without a coffin, his corpse emerged unchanged from the day of his internment. Soft and supple his body remained. Though not esteemed by man, God gave witness of his favor.

This story resembles the others told in history, but comes with a contemporary witness: My classmate testified she saw this take place with her own eyes.

Perhaps a journalist would probe deeper. Perhaps a sociologist would identify group hysteria. Perhaps we in the West are so terrified of these stories that we immediately seek for alternate explanation. What is the cause for our terror? Stories like this threaten our unconsciously adopted worldview of scientific rationalism. This worldview can make room for sporadic divine interventions, but generally only if there is a clear and logical purpose behind it. Stories such as these, however, make no sense to us. What purpose does God have in the rather morbid preservation of a corpse?

As I will learn the longer we live here, many Orthodox traditions have a sense of the mystical. I have begun getting introductory lessons in transubstantiation, for example. Yet no matter where we draw the line, the mystical cannot be separated from Christianity. At its core is the promise: Christ in you, the hope of glory. It is not my point to either justify or refute the miracle stories that are believed by so many. A faithful record of them, however, is necessary, for the Orthodox in Egypt are brethren in Christ, members of his body. This itself is mystery, a miracle story to be cherished.

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Postscript: I am posting this reflection one day before traveling without my family to another monastery, St. Makarius, where I will reside for the next three days. One of the places of conflict I am researching is the Abu Fana monastery, in which monks are prominently involved. It was recommended to me that in due time I stay with the monks there in order to better understand the local realities. That monastery, however, due to the conflict surrounding it, has become a much politicized place, and as such is not the best introduction into monastic life. In preparation for this experience, then, I should first have a taste of a functional monastery, and St. Makarius is by reputation one of the most reputable, though most controversial, in all Egypt. This, though, is a story for another time, hopefully shortly after I return. Your prayers are requested; may they mix with the incense rising from the altar…

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Categories
Reconciliation

From the Heart the Mouth Speaks

To properly describe the peacemaking work we are trying to undertake here in Egypt would require much background information and many blog posts. It is our hope that over time we can give a proper picture of the many nuances and subtleties which inform our work, but we apologize that this will come piecemeal, and that in our effort to inform we may only further confuse. If this is so, please understand that we ourselves have a lot to learn, and we expect it may be many years until we develop the cultural eyes to appreciate situations as an Egyptian would. Until then, we will stumble along together.

Conflict does not take place in a vacuum. There are many social realities which contribute to a single incident that then is exasperated into a sectarian conflict. Among these is the general poverty of the Egyptian countryside. It has been recommended to us that in seeking to address what may properly be understood as improper mindsets and behaviors, it does little good to simply go to the area and hold a workshop on understanding the other. If such a message is to be delivered with any hope of success, it would be well to wrap it into a project that delivers some social benefit to the area, preferably one which addresses the realities which led to the conflict in the first place.

The benefit of a project in an area in which tension has developed between Muslims and Christians is that it can bring together these communities which, now at odds, have separated themselves. It is a general rule, or at least belief, that people will set aside differences when it comes to the mutual benefit of making money, or educating their children, or securing good health services, etc. Moreover, as people interact they discover their commonalities, realizing the demonized other is not so bad after all, and not so different from myself. Within a project, the message takes hold.

Undertaking the project, however, is difficult, for how are we to know what projects are beneficial to a community so distant from our own. Even our Egyptian partners and advisors do not understand their needs, for they are educated city people, far removed from the issues of the countryside. Given this, it has also been recommended to us that we actively seek to involve the non-governmental organizations, agencies, charities, and associations which are currently working in the area. They know the situation, and even if they are not currently involved in the village at hand, they are familiar with its context. To date, we have found one such organization which has a very good reputation in the area among both Muslims and Christians, having served many communities with both skill and tact.

There is only one problem, and though it is inconsequential for them, it may be a issue for us. This organization is Christian in its formation. It has been recommended to us that because of the sensitivities of foreigners working in religiously-related matters that we are seen as absolutely neutral in our orientation. It matters little our intentions, or even our behaviors; what counts is our appearance. This organization has a mixed Muslim-Christian board of trustees, and employs only Muslims as its field workers. The office staff, however, is entirely Christian, and they would admit themselves that though they deliver their services irrespective of religion, their motivation and orientation is Christian, and the organization is designed to stay that way. Though they are not connected to the church, they would be seen as Christian. Our advisors have not recommended we distance ourselves, though, for they are clearly capable and enjoy wide local support among all. They recommend simply that we work in addition with an organization that is Islamic in its orientation. This will provide the balance that is necessary for our own proper appearance as neutral. Otherwise, our ability to work in these areas may be compromised.

We have been negotiating a project with this organization, even taking a trip to the area to speak with them directly. The other day they were in Cairo and visited us to continue the conversation, and after many positive signals we explained to them the above, asking their recommendation for a similarly oriented Muslim group with which we could also partner. Now, it is granted that such a question could be seen as a threat, not religiously, but professionally. Projects require funding, and surely based on our negotiations so far they could be expecting our contributions, however limited. With the addition of another partner, their share, their influence, and their involvement would naturally decrease. Though not expecting their resistance to our question—they know the other area organizations, work in conjunction if not together, and recognize the value of partnership across religious lines—for the above reason the resistance could be explained. What was evidenced, however, went far deeper.

Up until this time, their representatives were jovial, full of mirth, life, and spiritual commitment. Nearly instantaneously, facial expressions changed, cheeks flushed, arms folded, and when extended ended in a finger pointing in exclamation, “I swear by the Messiah that there is not one Islamic organization that also takes care of the Christians!” They were accused of hypocrisy, speaking kindly to your face only to adopt their own priorities upon receipt of the donation. It was unfortunate in addition that both we and they had a subsequent appointment approaching which forced the rapid communication of ideas. Had we more time such sentiments could have been expressed with more nuance and explanation. While our partnership was not threatened—we ended with agreement to continue our planning—we were warned about seeking out a Muslim group.

It should be reiterated, this is a group that works closely with Muslims; it employs them and trusts them as influential advisors. They serve Muslims without any question of religious affiliation. Yet our question touched a nerve that, though our (Caspers’) experience is limited, seems to be indicative of many Christians here. They can and generally do have beneficial relationships with the Muslim majority. When it concerns the question of Islam, or Muslims as Muslims, however, the hardened heart becomes evident. There is a mistrust and a frustration that prevents genuine charity, both in its contemporary understanding and its original usage as ‘love’. While this organization is serving all, including Muslims, in a commendable manner, it appears that it is for the objective of creating a viable civil society that is inclusive of all, Muslims and Christians as fellow citizens. This is a noble objective, though it is true that some Muslims oppose it, believing Christians to properly be protected, second-class citizens in the Islamic order. This organization serves Muslims in the hope, at least in part, that they will demonstrate their own good will and valuation of communal life. They hope to win for themselves a secure place in society. As admirable as these goals are, and the means by which they hope to achieve them, are they motivated by love, by true Christian charity? Sad as it may seem, are they destined only to be a resounding gong?

Perspective is necessary. Though in Cairo there are many Muslims who share the ideals of civil society and citizenship rights for both Muslims and Christians, perhaps these are far fewer in the countryside. They may be correct; there may not be any Islamic organizations which also serve Christians. They may have tried to partner with some and been burned in the process. They themselves are affected by the perceived rising of religious tensions, and the rhetoric of some Muslims is downright offensive to Christian sensibilities. They must be commended for rising above their predispositions to serve as ably as they do. Surely we from the West cannot comprehend the difficulty of their position.

Perhaps also I am way off base; after all, I am judging from one response from only our second conversation. It is at times like this the foreigner must remember he does not belong, and therefore does not understand.

But I cannot budge from the ideal that God calls us to more than an overcoming of our predispositions against the other. He calls us to do good, as they are doing, but he also gives us a new heart. Lacking this new heart in its full expression, a condition from which we all suffer, our friends invoked the name of Christ in vain. Yet my words expressed here are no better, for they come not from a new heart, but from a new set of ideals. Though these ideals may come from Christ, they will be proved true only when issued from a heart of love that has experienced also the suffering they perceive. May God spare us all from any suffering, but may he preserve, renew, and employ us whenever it occurs.

Categories
Personal

A Trip to Qalzam

Three weekends ago we traveled to the village of Qalzam with a friend of ours from Cairo, whose uncle still lives a traditional, agricultural life. The village was about a twenty minute drive from Shabin al-Qanater, the capital city of the Qalubiya governorate, which is in the Delta region about an hour north of Cairo. Qulzam means ‘fertile ground’ in Coptic, and was the place of his relative’s home and the area church, Archangel Michael. The church was built 250 years ago on the site where the angel appeared to a Christian villager. In those days the area was 75% Christian in composition, but their population has dwindled to only five families today. Over time, most of the families have relocated to Cairo for better work. Nevertheless, there is still significant Christian representation in the area, and during the Friday morning service we attended there appeared to be over 100 people in attendance, perhaps buttressed by a funeral service that coincided with our visit.

                 The church building itself was not 250 years old, but has been rebuilt recently, though it is not quite finished.

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It is a monumental structure, complete with a balcony, but the church is still awaiting donations to paint the icons on the wall dividing the people from the altar.

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My friend asked if I would be willing to help the church solicit. It uses its finances currently to conduct a shuttle service helping the Christians from surrounding villages to get to the church. It also gives the children small toys to encourage them to attend the Sunday school. These lessons follow the main mass, and we participated with them.

                 While Julie took Emma into the younger class where they chanted Arabic hymns and taught the kids to pray making the sign of the cross, I was with Hannah in what I discovered later was the combined class of all older ages. These are usually kept separate, which was a relief to hear, since it was quite chaotic, with few paying attention and much chatter throughout the lesson. I entered late, as I was talking with the ‘college and career’ folk after the mass, only later finding out that they had a class as well. When I entered they were chanting an Arabic hymn, but then to my surprise they sang a popular Arabic praise song, albeit without any instrumentation. They then tried to show a film on the recently obtained screen, which was the very reason every class met together, but sound quality was so poor they abandoned the effort after a few minutes. Then followed a lesson given on powerpoint, which seemed well designed but was way over the heads of the younger kids, and failed to attract the interest of the older ones. I felt sympathy for the teachers.

                 I spoke afterwards with a younger woman who was in charge of the older Sunday school class, but was not the teacher. She serves as Sunday school supervisor for the whole diocese, traveling especially to make certain that Christian daycare centers are well run. Yet Archangel Michael is her home church, and she recruits from the ‘college and career’ to teach the Sunday school classes. I was accompanied most of the visit by the one in charge of the middle school class, who works as a middle school science teacher another village over. He walks to work about a kilometer and a half every day, which is cumbersome only during the winter rains when the dirt roads get muddy.

                 In describing my work to them, the supervisor mentioned the travails of the Christian community in the regional capital, Shabin al-Qanater, in building a church. While relations with the Muslims are fine and official permission is granted for its construction, she claims that the local security forces are preventing the building from beginning. She asked if it was in our capability to investigate. While I was not certain, I reiterated that our group does not intervene for the sake of Christian church building, but we are interested in getting at the whole story from all sides, and my work in particular was towards the aim of building peace in an area. The presence of a foreigner in such a setting, I added, could easily over-encourage some (zealous Christians who think that their story will be told abroad and pressure put on the government) and infuriate others (zealous Muslims who could retaliate if they believe Christians are going outside the system to get help). So I put the request on hold, given also that she had to leave for other responsibilities, preventing further exploration of her story. Following on her comment that she visits Cairo with some regularity, though, I told her to contact me next time through and we would sit with a recorder to get all the details, and then decide from there what was best to do.

                 The rest of the day was spent at the old-style villa of my friend’s family, which was twelve rooms large in sprawling design incorporating much open veranda space.

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Though it was in need of repair in some places, it was elegant and comfortable, full of antiques over 100 years old.

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The only person who lived there, though, was his uncle, a young man by appearance but who was a former army officer, and thereafter lived 24 years in Baghdad, owning a restaurant and a few other shops. He lost everything, including his family, due to the First Gulf War, and returned home to Qalzam, where he takes care of his family house, enjoying the quiet life in the countryside, involved also in the church to which he often opens his home. His sustenance comes from the farmland he owns, which he hires others to work for him. There were several relatives and neighbors with us throughout the day, both Muslim and Christian, and he treated us to a traditional barbeque and fatayer meal. The meat was cooked over an ancient grill,

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and the fatayer—thin bread folded many times over, each layer coated in butter and honey (click here for video)—was cooked in an oven that seemed right out of the Great Depression.

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Save for the washing machine and television, the whole house was as it was constructed over 150 years ago. While much of the village has been remodeled and built up with modern construction methods, it was very comfortable to enjoy life as it has been lived unchanged for generations. Except, of course, that soon after eating and after Emma declined a chance to ride on a neighbor’s donkey, we instead mounted the car and drove back to modernity.

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                 The trip was our first outside of Cairo, and it was enlightening to witness life in a traditional setting. Our lives in Maadi are very insulated, and we will do well to continue to travel domestically as much as possible.

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            To close this post, allow me to say that my sentence about soliciting is sincere; should anyone be interested please contact us and we can discuss it. Yet at the same time, my friend told me that the priest of the church has increased in wealth since he began serving at the church. While this was not labeled as fraud, according to my friend church policy allows the priest to take a percentage of the gifts for his personal use, and other people have given him property directly. Personally, though I shook his hand, I did not speak with him, and at the request of my friend I put a donation in the box. The services of the church seemed very sincere, however, as did the volunteers with whom I spoke. Please do not understand this paragraph as my request for you to give, but in relaying the story and circumstances, I hope you get a small snapshot of local life.

Categories
Personal

Finding Church (part two)

Within the Arab World, no nation contains as many Christians as Egypt. As a nation there are approximately 80 million Egyptians, and it is commonly constituted that 10% of these are Christian. Yet while some Copts (the name of local Christians, and the word from with ‘Egypt’ is derived) occasionally claim that there are even up to 10 or 12 million Christian Egyptians, the true figure may be as low as 6%. The percentage of Christians has steadily declined in the last several decades, due to various factors. Muslims maintain a higher birthrate than Christians, Christians emigrate abroad in greater number than Muslims, and due to complicated social factors, deserving its own blog sometime in the future, it is not uncommon for Copts to convert to Islam for domestic reasons, be it marriage, divorce, or an oppressive family setting. Add these factors together, and similar to Christianity in much of the Middle East, the church is contracting.

                Yet in Egypt at least, unlike in Palestine for example, there is no crisis, if only because any percentage of 80 million people is sizeable. To break down the numbers further, of the Christian population, perhaps 90-95% is Orthodox. Catholics and Protestants have an influence greater than their percentage would suggest, for they can often find support from their international denominations, both in terms of money and theological education, and as such their leaders are accorded national prominence greater than their numerical due.

                 Behind these logistics is the local setting in Maadi, Cairo, where we reside. Maadi is one of the popular areas for internationals to live, and as such, there are a plethora of worship choices. Among the most popular is Maadi Community Church – http://www.maadichurch.com/. As a Protestant non-denominational church, it attracts over 1000 worshipers during three Friday afternoon services, including one especially tailored for African internationals, both professional and refugee. There is another English language service held at St. John’s Anglican Episcopal, which also operates as an interdenominational fellowship, though high church in tradition. They are smaller in size, meet Friday mornings for traditional service and Thursday evenings for contemplative communion, and have a Rector who has written an interesting book on Muslims and Christians, which you can find through the who’s who link at their webpage – http://www.maadichurch.org/. The local Coptic Church, St. Mark’s – http://www.stmarkmaadi.com/ (Arabic site, but interesting pictures if you dare to experiment; place your cursor on the first rollover link on the column to the right, then click on the third option given. Finally, let us know if you succeed so we can applaud you) even has an English mass once a month on Saturday morning. Of course, we have already written about our general attitude toward belonging to the international community, which you can review in our first post.

                 Similar to our situation in Jordan, discussed last post, we have a local evangelical church only five minutes walking distance away from our home. Unfortunately, the only meeting time begins at 7pm on Sunday evening. With care given to Egyptian timekeeping, it often does not really begin until later, and then does not end until 9pm or so. Since church is more than just a service, but rather a web of relationships in a community of people, in order to get to know anyone we would need to stay even later to have any fellowship. In general we put Emma and Hannah to bed at 8pm. We wrote in our first post that we will try to become like them as much as possible, though we know we will never succeed, and it would be foolish to imagine we could. The issue of children’s bedtime exposes us in terms of the latter half of that sentence. It seems to us that Egyptian children have little bedtime expectations. Since the vast majority grow up to be responsible adults anyway, we see just how difficult it is to jettison our own cultural superiority. We should mention that the church does have a good Sunday School program, meeting at 12:30pm on Fridays, which Emma has been enjoying, and even memorized her first verse in Arabic last week, Exodus 15:26.

                 There is also a somewhat famous evangelical church in downtown Cairo, which we could get to by about a 20-30 minute metro ride. They have several services throughout the weekend, some of which have 1000 people at one time. You can check this church out at http://www.kdec.net/, but it is only an Arabic site, it seems. We would prefer a neighborhood church, and one that would be a bit smaller, but still, it is an option.

                 This leaves one last option, which would involve a resurrection of the quest to discover Christian diversity. St. Mark’s Orthodox Church is located about a twenty minute walk away from our home, and has Friday morning services which include a Sunday School time following a children’s mass. Unfortunately, there is much that would need to be written to introduce this option, so we ask your patience in awaiting part three of this theme…