Bless Lord the Waters of the Nile

My favorite prayer in the daily mass says:

Bless, Lord, the waters of the Nile,
plants and fruits of the earth for the sake of the poor of Your people:
widows, orphans, strangers, guests and workers in every locale
as well as those who beseech You and call out Your holy name.
For the eyes of all hope in You
and You give them their food in due season.
Be gracious to us according to Your goodness,
You who give food to each one.
Fill our hearts with joy and peace.
May there be enough of everything
so that we may grow in every good work.

It’s amazing to think that this prayer has been prayed in Coptic, in Arabic and in English by generations of Copts over hundreds of years. As Egypt has changed hands, dynasties, rulers and been influenced by leaders, good and bad, over the centuries, this prayer has rolled off the tongues of Egypt’s sons and daughters like the Nile rolls ever northward.

My understanding and knowledge of Egyptian history is not as good as it could be, but certainly Egypt lives in need of prayer as badly as at any point in its history. Tomorrow as I leave Egypt to return home, protestors will be gathering at Tahrir Square to renew the call for a continuation of the revolution that began on 25 January. Those revolutionaries – primarily young people – who long to see Egypt become a truly free and democratic nation where all people know justice, need this prayer.

The Copts who pray these words for their land and their people also need our prayers. Their eyes indeed hope in God these days, but many live in fear of what the future will hold. The stories I have heard and read this summer are sobering. The sectarian divisions that have flared in large and public ways in recent months continue in smaller ways in cities and villages across Egypt. Christians (and other religious minorities) feel threatened by the uncertainty that revolution has brought to them. They live with the fear of harassment and violence and sometimes they live with real violence and harassment.

In any case, my students and friends and others I have met this summer have asked more than anytime, “pray for us.” The stories I have heard, the faces I know, the news I read will continue to shape my prayer in the coming days, weeks and months. I invite you to join me in asking God to continue to open wide his hand to bless the Nile and this treasured land and all those who have been formed by it.

Colleagues

I write an awful lot about me, myself and my students in my blog, and occasionally I mention the “other teachers” who are my colleagues in the summer program. One of the blessings of being here is the other people I work with who are kind, hard-working, fun to spend time with and who care for and look out for each other when we come to the end of our ropes (or when Pharaoah’s revenge hits hard)!

For five years I have taught with Father Michael Calabria and Rita Reichert – we are the co-coordinators of the English program at St. Leo’s. Michael is a Franciscan friar at St. Bonaventure University in Olean, NY and I have the good fortune to see him when I am at home as well as in Egypt. He is a wonderful and trusted colleague who continually models shared leadership with me in front of the students. Their acceptance of me as a pastor of the church is in large part due to the leadership and friendship that Michael models to them.

Rita teaches early childhood special education in Ohio. She is an “includer” at heart and is our unofficial minister of social affairs. Usually it is Rita who organizes our outings, makes arrangements for us and always, always, always is inviting others join in. She is a gift.

Bonny Prudhomme, Dea Hart, Ian Rogers and, last but not least, the-one-who-opens-doors Sr. Pina are my other teaching colleagues. We bring different gifts, different skills and different temperaments to the program, but we work well together.

(From Left to Right: Bonny Prudhomme, Dea Hart, Me, Ian Rogers, Fr. Michael, Rita Reichert)

It really is a blessing to work with such good folks. Tonight we’re off to see the Darwish – the Sufi dancers. It’s been 5 years since I first saw these folks and I still remember it as one of the most transfiguring and spiritual experiences of my life. I’m looking forward to the evening it to say the least!

Guests

On Monday we were invited to visit the Vatican’s Ambassador in Egypt (the papal nuncio) at the Vatican Embassy in Cairo on the island of Zamalak. As you might imagine this was a big deal.

A reminder for readers who have a hard time keeping track of the details of what I do in Egypt. St. Leo’s, the seminary where I teach, is a seminary of the Coptic Catholic Church. This means that the church has it’s own archbishop and it’s own rite of the mass, but it continues to relate with the Roman Catholic Church. So when the Vatican’s Ambassador comes to dine at the seminary, as he did a few weeks ago, or when he invites the seminary to a reception, it’s a big deal for my students and the priests at the seminary. As Samer, the student elected to share a greeting with ambassador, said in his remarks, “a visit to the embassy is for us a visit to the Vatican itself.”

It’s a little strange and surreal for this Lutheran pastor to be in a gathering of this nature. I do well within the context of the seminary and with my students to being open to finding the commonality in our faith. In this context we can engage in dialogue and discussions, ask questions, seek understanding and agree sometimes to disagree. But at times like this, when I’m exposed first hand to the hierarchy (and patriarchy) of the Roman Catholic Church it’s hard for me not to roll my eyes and make smart ass comments. My mother (and others) will be pleased to know that yesterday I neither rolled by eyes nor made any smart ass comments (at least not out loud). I only spoke when the Ambassador asked if priests were political. My response was a simple, “every parish pastor in the world has to be a politician.”

Mostly yesterday was a day I will remember because of what it meant for my students. They were so excited for this invitation, and not just because it meant they got out of study hall for the afternoon. They all dressed in black – clerics for some, dress blacks for others – and were on their best behavior. They took in every word the Ambassador spoke, even though many of them could not understand much of what he said. They noticed every action, every response, every movement and gesture – I didn’t know they could be so attentive. Some were disappointed and critical of what they experienced, but most of them were simply delighted.

Perhaps the most fun of the day was waiting in the garden in front of the Embassy right on the Nile while we waited to be received. The students took in the garden and the gorgeous view across the Nile of central Cairo. They enjoyed every flower and plant. They took it all in and were so grateful to be received.

Once again they taught me.

Monasteries

My colleague, Michael Calabria tells me that famed Egyptologist Howard Carter once said something like, “there’s something about Egypt that turns people toward solitude.” Perhaps this is the reason the solitary contemplative life – monasticism – was born by the Copts in the 3rd and 4th centuries. It must have been the environment that bred a desire for solitude because it’s hard to imagine what else could have drawn St. Paul of Thebes and St. Anthony the Great and so many others to the eastern desert. To be sure the landscape is beautiful. But even today the landscape is barren and desolate, except where monasteries have been developed over time. Over the centuries the eastern desert has been the wandering ground of the Bedouins who attacked and took control of the monasteries at various times, but other than random outposts, this land appears to be largely uninhabited and uninhabitable.

Yet early on in Christian history St. Paul and then St. Anthony made their way separately to the eastern desert and took up residence in small mountain caves. In these homes over the course of decades – 8 for St. Paul and 4 for St. Anthony – they prayed, they pondered and they lived in complete dependence on the mercy of a provident God.

The legend of St. Paul says he came to the desert around 250 AD to escape Roman persecution. He lived in the mountains of the desert in a cave near a clear spring and a palm tree, the leaves of which provided him with his clothing and the fruit of which provided him with his source of food until he was 43 years old, when a raven started bringing him half a loaf of bread daily. He remained in the cave for the rest of his life, almost a hundred years.

According to church teaching, Anthony the Great came to visit when Paul was 113. They were together for one day. When Anthony next visited him, Paul was dead. Anthony is said to have clothed him in a tunic presented by Athanasius of Alexandria and buried him, with two lions helping to dig the grave.

The legend of St. Anthony says that he came from a wealthy family. His parents died when he was a young man and left him with the care of an unmarried sister. In 285, at the age of 34, he decided to follow the words of Jesus, who said, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasures in heaven; and come, follow me.” Anthony took the words literally. He gave away some of his estate, sold the rest and donated the funds to the poor and became the disciple of a local hermit. Over time he made he made his way to the eastern desert where he found his own cave and source of water and lived a life of prayer and work. While he was not the first desert father, he is widely considered one of the “Fathers” of the monastic life that continues to thrive in Egypt. If I heard correctly, St. Anthony’s cave was the first place the others came to gather together and sought to live a monastic life in community.

St. Anthony’s monastery is a beautiful, large complex that is now home to around 120 Coptic Orthodox monks. Our guide on our tour was Abuna (Father) Ruwais a Coptic monk who looks a little like Santa Claus with his long white beard and who ran his tour with authority and conviction. He had no tolerance for those who lingered too long in any one spot, but was also sure to point out the good spots for photos along the way like any good Egyptian tour guide. Abuna Ruwais repeatedly emphasized that the monastery remains an active community of monastic life and was first and foremost a place for prayer. He didn’t let us get too loud along the way and he insisted on silence and prayer when we entered the chapel.

Somewhere along the way in the course of our tour I told the good Abuna that I also was an “abuna” after someone mentioned that I “worked for the church.” Initially he looked at me in dismay and reminded me that in all of scripture there are no woman priests. Over time he asked more questions and engaged me more in conversation. By the end of the day he had given me his card and was happy to take the almonds that I offered him.

Our visit to St. Paul’s was shorter and we did not have the same personality-filled guide as we had at St. Anthony’s. The priest at St. Paul’s was happy to speak in Arabic when he learned that there were those in the group who could translate and he used a red pointer to point to paintings and tell us when they were dated – “The angel Gabriel 17th century . . . St. George 16th century.”

St. Paul’s remains home to some 80 monks and as we toured the grounds we could hear them gathered for prayer and singing Coptic songs with the familiar sound of cymbals and triangles giving the rhythm.

The grounds at St. Paul’s were spread out and we only saw a fraction of the facility. There was a large beautiful modern church structure that appeared to quite new that I didn’t get to see. And as we were getting ready to leave I looked up in the mountains and noticed that there was a large mountainside building that appeared to be quite large. I didn’t get all the details but it sounded like that was the vision of one of the monks and has been worked on over time with the help of volunteers. It sounded like there were several church that had been built into the side of the mountain and other buildings as well.

All in a great day seeing new places and piquing my curiosity for more.

For some reason I'm only being allowed to post two photos. You can check out more of my pictures from St. Anthony's and St. Paul's on my Facebook page.

A Messenger from God

One morning this past week I was bemoaning the fact that we’ve not had my favorite fig jam at breakfast this year. Previous readers of my blog may remember a story from last year about “a messenger from God.” Well a messenger returned to my door on Thursday night. Once again I have been provisioned with fresh mangos and fig jam.

Read more.

Pilgrimage

I’m not sure what constitutes an “official” pilgrimage these days, but on Saturday I joined a group of 20 or so from St. Andrew’s in Cairo for a pilgrimage of sorts to the monasteries of St. Anthony and St. Paul, two of the world’s oldest monasteries located in Egypt’s eastern desert inland from the Red Sea.

Our drive (on a comfortable, air conditioned bus!) took us from central Cairo east to Ein Suknah and then south along the Red Sea. The monasteries are located inland many kilometers from the Red Sea in the desert mountains. Here’s some of what I saw along the way:

1. Streets filled with all kinds of people at 6 a.m. (!) on a Saturday morning walking, riding and driving to work. The Metro, which I thought would be empty, was not. Thankfully this meant that my favorite falafel stand next to the Metro was open as well so I could have a falafel sandwich for breakfast.
2. “Protesters” encamped at Tahrir Square, which we drove by on our way out of Cairo. I saw a variety of tents, signs and people. After clashes with the police earlier this week, news reports indicate that 5000 or so gathered on Friday to protest and re-establish their base. Those responsible for the 25 January Revolution are calling for renewed protests beginning on Friday, July 8. (I’m scheduled to leave that morning.) Some of the folks from St. Andrew’s had stopped by the square on Friday after church. They said the atmosphere was more festival-like than revolutionary. In true Egyptian fashion, people have set up stalls and are selling t-shirts, posters and bumper stickers.
3. Stands set up alongside of the road where men had coolers filled with fresh fish, presumably the morning catch from Red Sea.
4. An enormous wind farm, and by enormous I mean gigantic. It went on and on for miles and there were thousands of wind turbans. Further research leads me to believe that is was the Zafarana Wind Farm. It stretches from the city of Suez to the Hurghada, some 250 km. Wind is one of Egypt’s abundant resources, sun is the other.
5. Mile after mile of resort developments in varying states of completion with names like Cancun, Malibo, Hollywood Beach, and my favorite, Amexco. Most of these developments were on a narrow stretch of land between the highway and the Red Sea. Many of them appear to be intended to be high-end resort developments. While there were some enormous resorts and hotels along the way that were completed, fully developed and occupied, there appears to be thousands of resorts units under construction. It’s hard to believe that there are enough people in the world, to say nothing of Egypt, to meet the demand for Red Sea resort villas that developers believe exist. If you’re in the market for a partially-completed resort development, this could your chance.
6. A gorgeous mountain desert landscape in varying shades of red and white. With the deep blue of the Red Sea on one side, the rugged mountains on the other and a brilliant blue sky over the two it was pretty spectacular. At one point driving along the desolate road to one of the monasteries we crossed through a stretch of desert with a single tree growing in the middle of a wide expanse. As I saw it I was wondering if it was an example of a broom tree like the one that an exhausted Elijah sat under when he asked to die. As I continued looking I noticed a camel sitting in the shade of the tree. Despite what people think, camels are not a common sight in Egypt, except in tourist areas. I wish my camera had been out.
7. A brilliant sunset as we made our way back into Cairo. The entire expanse of western sky was shades of red and pink.

And that was just on the drive! More to come.