Sunday, June 16, 2013

2013:4 - On my trip to Fayoum . . .

 Friday afternoon our 17 seminarians, two priests, three nuns and my colleague Rita and I traveled to Fayoum by bus for a mass celebrating the taking on of priestly garments by a former student of the summer course. Egyptians call the black garment a soutane. We know it in English as a cassock and by the beginning of the second year of theology studies, the deacons at the seminary must begin to wear this garment. Near as I can tell it’s one of the symbolic gestures of assuming the role of a priest and preparing oneself for ordination.

The pictures on my Amy in Egypt Facebook page give you a sense of our cozy, two-hour bus ride there and back and also the mass we celebrated. Along the way we drove through Giza so got to see the pyramids on the Giza plain with the city encroaching from three sides. They are like mountains rising out of the floor of the desert and they never cease to amaze me.  

The Coptic Catholic Mass we celebrated was largely sung and lasted over 90 minutes. The seminarians served as the choir for the mass and lead the singing of the congregation. They all processed in wearing their white albs embroidered with red and gold. Maybe 10 priests and deacons stood around the altar throughout the service and shared leadership of the service.

The language of the mass is in a combination of Coptic (the ancient language of Egypt that has it’s roots in pharonic times) and Arabic. I heard some familiar words, recognized songs and was generally able to follow along with the flow because I’m familiar with the English translation of the mass that we do each morning of the summer course in it’s most simplified form.

If you’ve ever experience worship in an Orthodox church you understand the sensory richness of what I experienced on Friday night. Every sense was engaged as we heard music that mimics chant but carries a different tonal quality, we saw icons and images of saints and disciples covering the iconostasis, we inhaled the smoke from incense that was spread over us four separate times during the mass, and ate bread and wine. The mass was filled with symbols and imagery that I have only begun to notice and understand. But as Abuna Bishoi explained to me every movement, every action has a meaning and altogether it is a rich feast!


But of everything that I experienced in worship on Friday, my favorite moment might have been watching Fady’s mother, who was seated across from me, when he put on the cassock and turned to face the parish. The face of a proud mama transcends culture and was maybe the most beautiful thing I saw in Fayoum.


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