I usually limit my blogging to my time in Egypt. But the abundance of news over the last 10 days related the the New Year's Eve bombing outside a Coptic church in Alexandria and the response that has flowed from that has been weighing on my heart and mind. Writing seems like a good way to reflect.
I preface my reflections by saying that I'm not an expert on Egyptian society, culture or history. But, as readers of this blog know, I've spent a month or so for the last four summers teaching English at a Coptic Catholic Seminary in Ma'adi, a suburb of Cairo. (A reminder to you, all Christians in Egypt are considered Copts, not all Copts are orthodox.) Over the last four years I have come to know a small community of Egyptian students and priests, and through them, a broader community of ordinary Egyptians. I have my own experiences of Egyptian culture from my daily life in Egypt, but much of how I see Egypt is shaped by the ways that I experience it through my friends.
For the last week I've been wondering what my Egyptian friends would say about the New Year's Eve bombing and the protests that erupted in Egypt in the days that followed leading up to the Coptic Christmas Eve celebration on January 6. Other than seeing a few Facebook posts in English, I've not had contact with my students. I've sent messages to let them know they are in my thoughts and prayers, but I've not had a chance to talk with any of them about these events.
The stories of Muslims holding candlelight vigils and serving as human shields around Christian churches celebrating Christmas Eve are powerful witnesses to what can happen when we recognize our shared humanity. They are stories worth repeating and holding up for others to see and be inspired by. I have no doubt this happened in Cairo and Alexandria - in larger more cosmopolitan cities. But I wonder what it was like in other cities and villages throughout Upper Egypt with Christian populations where ordinary people gathered to sing with the cymbals, inhale the incense and hear their priests proclaim that Christ is born!
I suspect that in those places stories of human shields are nice, but they don't change the reality that young people can't find work and so they are risking their lives to go elsewhere -- anywhere -- to try and make a life for themselves and support a family. They don't change the reality that Christians in Egypt must claim their faith on identity cards which then limit their access to schools, jobs and opportunities. They don't change the reality that the land where God sent Joseph, Mary and the baby Jesus for safekeeping from Herod's wrath, is a place that verges on inhospitable to any but the "haves" who continue to have more and more.
Stories of human shields provide a powerful witness to what humans who recognize shared humanity are capable of. They are stories worth repeating. But they can't be the only stories we tell. In Egypt and across the globe, there remains a fundamental need for economic and social justice and equality for all people.
Human shields that enable Christians or Muslims or Jews or Buddhists or Seihks to worship in their chosen worship spaces for their given festivals are wonderful. But human shields don't change the fact that God's kingdom has not come when people are divided rich from poor, haves from have-nots, right from wrong.
By all means, tell the stories of human shields whose act of solidarity marked a shared humanity that makes us all pause. But don't stop there. Please learn where injustice exists in your own communities and in nations across the world and tell those stories. In so-doing, we can all become repairers of the breach and be bearers of a new day . . . a new kingdom.
Salaam
