Playing Father

This is Motassem, a beautiful Arab boy with bright blue eyes.

Every Tuesday night, our school hosts prayer meetings. On average, thirty people attend, half of whom are students. Last Tuesday, at 10 PM, as the thirty of us were leaving the building, a 13-year-old boy named Mohammed gave me a huge hug and joked, “Carry me! Carry me!” I laughed and signed, “You’re too old, and I’m too weak.”

A few seconds later, Motassem tugs on my sleeve. 

I turn to face him, and he signs, “I’m only ten.”

His hands are neither timid nor pestering. Now, as always, he exhibits a quiet confidence that suggests maturity beyond his years. 

Only a brute could have refused the implicit request. 

I scoop him up in my arms, and he clings to my body. We slowly make our way to the boys’ boarding house, around forty yards and forty stair-steps away. Besides a few short giggles, he is silent and still. 

What kind of ten-year-old boy finds comfort in being carried?

The kind of ten-year-old boy who didn’t find it when he was five.

The kind who is old enough to know that his father has failed, but still young enough to delight in pretending.

The kind who approaches me the next morning and asks, “Are you going to the prayer meeting on Thursday night?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Will you carry me to the boarding house afterwards?”

Country Profiles

JORDAN

Today, approximately 5% of Jordan’s population (around 6.5 million) identifies as Christian. In the mid-20th century, the figure was 30%. The Greek Orthodox church has the largest presence here, followed by the Catholic church. In addition, the Anglican church is relatively large in Jordan, at least partially because of its many development projects -- one example being the HLID!

Jordan has an admirable history of strong inter-faith relations. King Hussein (r. 1952 - 1999) occasionally attended a Christian church. King Abdullah II, the current monarch, has repeatedly stressed the importance of harmonious relations between Christians and Muslims -- and all peoples of faith (check out the “Amman Message,” or read his book). 

Also admirable is the presence of Jordanian Christians in the country’s political sphere. Nine of the 150 Parliamentary seats are reserved for Christians. Several months ago, I was privileged to attend a dinner at the house of Dr. Abu Jaber, Jordan’s former Foreign Secretary (equivalent to the US Secretary of State) under King Hussein. Dr. Abu Jaber is a Greek Orthodox believer, and he directs the Royal Institute for Inter-Faith Studies. 

As I said in a previous post, there is still tension, still religious injustice. But there are also many signs of hope, many blessings for which we should be grateful.  

SYRIA

Approximately 10% of Syria’s population (around 22.5 million) identifies as Christian. As in Jordan, the percentage was higher in years past. The majority of Syrian Christians are Orthodox.

Many of you are familiar with the current plight of Syrian Christians. Under the Assad regime (both the current ruler and his father), Christians enjoyed security. They are hesitant to support the opposition, as they are anxious about the unpredictability of a new regime/system. These sisters and brothers need our prayers. 

LEBANON

The most religiously diverse country in the Middle East. Approximately 20% of Lebanon’s population identifies as Maronite Christian (one of the oldest Eastern Catholic churches, if not the oldest). Another 20% identifies with other Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant churches. The country’s Muslim population is equally diverse. 

Lebanon’s modern history has been marked by political strife -- a Palestinian refugee crisis, Israeli occupation, civil war. It has also been marked by religious tension, intra-Islam and inter-faith. 

PALESTINE

As previously mentioned, Palestinian Christians comprise 1 or 2% of the population. Statistics will vary, but we’ll say somewhere between 50,000 and 100,000. Most of these are concentrated around Ramallah (home base for Palestine’s political leadership) and Bethlehem. Approximately 35% of Bethlehem’s population identifies as Christian.

Based on my knowledge and experience, the vast majority of Palestinian church leaders are adamant pacifists. This is certainly true of Palestine’s Evangelical leadership. 

A little-known fact: several thousand Palestinian Christians live in Gaza, one of the most miserable places on earth (two little-known facts?). 

EGYPT

The Christian Church in Egypt was established by St. Mark in the mid-1st century. Today, approximately 10% of Egypt’s population (8 million of 80 million) identifies as Christian, and most of these are Coptic Orthodox. 

Just recently, President Mohammed Mursi invited the Heads of Denominations in Egypt to an official dialogue. Thirteen bishops and pastors attended, representing the Coptic Orthodox, the Greek Orthodox, the Catholic, the Anglican, and other Protestant churches. President Mursi has hosted two such dialogues in two months’ time (which apparently hasn’t happened in thirty years). At this most recent dialogue, church leaders raised grievances about sectarian clashes and about the ignorance and deviant teachings that fuel them. Church leaders also assured the president that they pray for him regularly, and he expressed his deep appreciation for these prayers. In turn, he assured the church leaders that his Islamic faith commands him to be gracious and just with people of other faiths. (This information comes from http://www.jmeca.org.uk/great-hopes-egyptian-christians.)

You shouldn’t have to look far on the online databases of major news networks to find information about the sectarian clashes to which the church leaders refer. It’s not as bad as Iraq, but it’s pretty bad. Speaking of...

IRAQ

The Christian Church in Iraq is as old as it is in Egypt: St. Thomas launched Christian churches on his way to India. Most Iraqi Christians are Eastern rite Catholics who are ethnically Assyrians, speaking Jesus’ native language of Aramaic to this day. 

Before the war in 2003, there were approximately 1.5 million Christians in Iraq. Now, I believe, the number is around half a million. I highly recommend reading this piece by my commencement speaker, a long-time Anglican vicar in Baghdad: http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/news/canonandrewwhite/9307626/Iraq_The_most_dangerous_place_in_the_world_for_Christians/. 

These sisters and brothers (and this country!) desperately need our prayers. 

IRAN

Although the majority population isn’t Arab, but Persian, this is nevertheless a good opportunity to mention the little-known fact: there are Christians in Iran. Well over a hundred Armenian Orthodox churches, in fact. Even more surprisingly, there are Protestant churches in Iran. Three Anglican churches, including one in Tehran. The following quote is from the Jerusalem and Middle East Church Association: 

“There have been Christians in Iran since the earliest days of the Church and the indigenous Churches continue as minorities in this predominantly Muslim country. The Anglican presence arose out of missionary work by the Church Missionary Society and there is a small Church which looks to the Bishop for spiritual leadership. The diocesan institutions - schools and hospitals and work among the blind - have gone but the tiny Church persists. Members of the Church need much prayer for strength to witness to their faith and for protection from the opposition. There have been martyrs since the Revolution, and the situation can only really be described, in human terms, as unpredictable.” 

Welcome to the Church in this part of the world. 

What Kinds of Churches?

The poet is taking a break, and the theology nerd is taking his place. 

This post, like the last, is intended to introduce readers to the Arab Christian church, specifically by answering the question, “What kinds of churches?”

While there are Arab Christians throughout the Middle East who identify as Protestant and Evangelical, these are the minority. In Palestine, for example, Christians comprise a couple percentage points of the population, and self-identifying Evangelicals comprise just a couple percentage points of that.  

The vast majority of Arab believers, then, are members of either the Orthodox or the Catholic Christian traditions. Historically, both of these traditions have very deep roots here -- preceding the foundation of Protestantism, in fact. 

This isn’t the place for a lecture on non-Protestant Christianity (...which is good, because I’m not qualified to give it anyways), but I’ll do a little explaining along the way. 

Eastern Orthodoxy (often called “Greek Orthodoxy” in the Arab World) is a Christian tradition that traces its origins to the Apostles. Centuries-long arguments between the East and the West culminated in the Great Schism in the 11th century. While Eastern Orthodox believers accept the proclamations of the early church’s seven main ecumenical councils (Nicea, Constantinople, Ephesus, Chalcedon... and three others that I forget but choose not to look up), they are distinct in both belief and practice. Two examples of distinctly Orthodox beliefs, the first of which played a significant role in the schism: 1) When speaking about the Trinity, Protestants and Catholics believe that the Holy Spirit “proceeds from the Father and from the Son,” whereas Orthodox believers believe that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father alone. 2) Orthodox believers think about justification (sinners becoming righteous) differently than most Protestants and Catholics do: theosis (deification or divinization) is the Orthodox notion that believers will eventually become a part of the divine life -- while remaining distinct from God. 

There are approximately half a million Eastern Orthodox Christians in the Arab world. The church’s Patriarchates (the highest-ranking bishops) in this region reside in Jerusalem, Damascus, Alexandria, and Istanbul. 

Now, here’s where it gets tricky: there are other “Orthodox” believers who are not “Eastern Orthodox” believers. The term “Oriental Orthodoxy” is often used to describe this category of Christianity, which includes Coptic Orthodoxy, Armenian Orthodoxy, Syriac Orthodoxy. Oriental Orthodox believers are distinguished from Eastern Orthodox believers in that they have not traditionally accepted the proclamations of the ecumenical council at Chalcedon (CE 451), which means that they do not accept the notion that Jesus has two distinct natures -- one divine, one human. Rather, they believe that Jesus was endowed with a blended constitution, if you will. 

Regardless of how exactly Oriental Orthodox believers conceive of and articulate Jesus’ nature, they get it right where it counts: the God-man Jesus offers salvation to all by atoning for the sins of the world. 

(Did I just summarize the Christian creed in a way that excludes certain Protestants? Better drop that L like it’s hot, Mr. Tulip!)

Concerning Oriental Orthodoxy on the ground, there are approximately eight million Coptic Orthodox believers, almost entirely located in Egypt. They are by far the largest Christian community in the region. In addition, there are approximately 300,000 Armenian Orthodox believers and 100,000 Syrian Orthodox believers. 

Okay, enough of Orthodoxy...what about the Catholic Church? Surprisingly, this tradition is nearly as complex as the Orthodox tradition, as there are two major tides here: Roman rite and Eastern rite. The latter comprises churches that were originally Orthodox (either Eastern or Oriental), but for historical and doctrinal reasons decided to sever that membership and affiliate with Rome while maintaining Orthodox-esque liturgies and practices. The largest church in Lebanon, the Maronite church, is one example. 

...This really isn’t the place for a lecture on Catholicism, but I’ll just briefly mention my firm conviction that I have many Catholic sisters and brothers in Christ, here and elsewhere, and I am commanded to honor that familial connection, regardless of existing disagreements. 

Two final notes:

First, there are ancient churches here that do not identify with Orthodoxy, Catholicism, or Protestantism! One example is the Assyrian Church of the East, which originated in east Syria, exists primarily in Iraq and Iran today, and is currently led by a Patriarch who lives in Chicago! This church only accepts the proclamations of the first two main ecumenical Councils (affirming that the Son is equal to and of the same substance as the Father). 

Second, regarding Protestantism in the Middle East: early 19th century missionaries from the United States and Britain are responsible for today’s Arab Protestants. Anglicans are the largest Protestant presence, probably followed by Lutherans. Historically, these western Christian movements have not been particularly welcomed -- by Muslims, Jews, or even traditional Arab churches. They are not native; they were imported. Slowly but surely, however, ecumenical cooperation and strong social justice endeavors are repairing relationships and carving out cultural space in which Arab Protestants can be at home. 

In the next post, I hope to provide country profiles regarding the Christian populations of Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, and other countries in the region. 

...And after that, the theology nerd will take a break for awhile. The poet gets antsy. 

Blessings. 

A Forgotten Church

In Mark 5 (parallels in Matthew 8 and Luke 8), Jesus and his disciples travel to the eastern side of the Sea of Galilee -- then-Gentile, now-Arab territory. Immediately upon their arrival, they encounter a despairing demoniac. Jesus casts Legion into a herd of pigs, and the fully restored man begs Jesus to let him join the disciples on their future journeys. But Jesus refuses: “Go home to your friends and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” In light of Jesus’ adamant insistence on not evangelizing throughout the Gospel of Mark, this command is nothing short of astonishing. Apparently, the man obeyed, because at the end of the following chapter, we see the fruit of his obedience: Jesus returned to the sea’s eastern side, and the people “immediately recognized him.” He traveled throughout “villages, cities, and countryside,” healing multitudes. And he came back to this land on numerous occasions.  

So, it started before even the earliest missionaries. It started with Jesus himself. 

And their earliest missionaries were not foreigners, by the way: Arabs were present at that legendary Pentecost (Acts 2:11). 

They remained present throughout the formative years of the early church. Four Arabs participated in the first main ecumenical council at Nicea (CE 325). Official bishops represented the province of Arabia in the second main ecumenical council at Constantinople (CE 381). 

And not just present. Active, alive. In the following centuries, and into the first millenium, churches in the East were well-connected with churches in the West -- well enough to be constantly arguing, that is. While these historical arguments and splits are in many ways regrettable, they must also be recognized as evidence of vitality, evidence of the fact that the Church in the Arab world has known centuries of flourishing. 

Many assume that Christianity in this region must have ended when Islam was founded in the early 7th century. This is just not true. Here in Jordan, for example, I could visit dozens of Byzantine church ruins from centuries before and after the advent of Islam. 

Furthermore, many assume that Muslims must have always persecuted Arab Christians and that the two must have always hated each other. This is also not true. I speculate that a misappropriation of elementary knowledge about the Crusades (a shameful scar on western Christendom) is to blame. But regardless: let it be known that Arab Christians and Arab Muslims have lived in relative harmony with each other for 1400 years. 

Not that problems have never arisen or that tension does not currently exist. They have, and it does. More on this later. 

But for now, I just wanted to briefly introduce Arab Christianity and in so doing dispel some common false assumptions surrounding it.

Of course, many American Christians have no assumptions of which to speak. They have ever and always equated Arab ethnicity with Islamic faith. They have never thought of their beautiful Arab sisters and brothers. Never said a prayer for them. Let alone worshipped alongside them. 

In the near future, I hope to offer readers a few glimpses of this church’s beauty. 

It's Not Always So Hard

Nightmare

on my knees

eyes wide open

looking into yours

which see nothing

my eyes speak

“i love you”

“calm down”

my eyes fall 

on deaf ears

it strikes again

whatever it is

you scream

thrash 

strike

bite

yourself

every part 

of your being

becomes tense

love is now force

three bodies intervening

mine also interceding

as it strikes

we bind

it halts

we wait

it strikes

we bind

it halts

we wait

it lasts one hour

strikes every five minutes

each time a new bruise

on you or on us

each time drops of blood

either yours or ours

my eyes scream

“STOP!”

but my eyes fall

who let hell 

into our heaven?

Not ten minutes after the hour,

you are smiling as if nothing happened.

We are relieved and grateful,

but we cannot smile with you.

To understand is a luxury

our bodies cannot afford.

We are exhausted

from our efforts

to restrict darkness,

and I am consumed

by a sorrowful fear: 

no matter how

much light I see,

such overwhelming darkness

will eventually return

and always smother 

Hazem suffered these hour-long spells on four consecutive days. I was present for two of them. Apparently, he has experienced similar spells in years past. An erratic consequence of a traumatic childhood? Bodily illness manifested in emotional, psychological torment? No one really knows. He is fine now, and he has been for nearly a week. We assume that it’s over. Even so, please pray. 

Laboring Towards Likeness

Every Friday, from 8:30 AM to 1:00 PM, I sweep the streets. 

All of the older male students at the Holy Land Institute for the Deaf are assigned manual labor chores on Fridays, and the male volunteers at the school are asked (which means required) to join in. I’m always a part of the sweeping crew, along with two or three students -- different students each week. We get to wear these lovely gray jumpsuits. Mine has the name “Rafael” written in black permanent marker on the left chest pocket.

Now, I’ve never been a fan of manual labor. Rumor has it that some people find it relaxing. This makes no sense to me. Nor does the notion that I’m supposed to feel a sense of inner satisfaction in a job well done and sweat well spent. Personally, I’m much more likely to feel satisfied by a job well evaded. 

I’d much rather work with my mind than with my body, much rather work with my mouth than with my back. 

So, when I learned that I would be sweeping the streets around the school every week, I was tempted to complain to myself: “I didn’t come here to be a garbage man! Anyone could do this filthy job. Don’t these people know that I’m smart?” 

It didn’t take long, however, for this temptation to pass. In all sincerity, I am grateful for the work that I do here on Friday mornings.

Here’s why. 

Every American who has spent significant time in a developing country knows that our citizenship endows us with power. The political and economic might of our home country somehow translates into social clout around the world: our problems are often solved faster, our grievances are often noticed earlier, our emergencies are often taken more seriously. We are often disliked and judged as well, it’s true...but even this is indicative of the power that we possess. 

Regarding American relations with the Arab world, this power is especially significant. The modern history of West-Middle East relations has been defined by the struggle for power -- more specifically (and, I admit, more cynically), by attempts of the West to seize power in the Middle East. For starters, check out what France and Great Britain were doing here in the early 20th century. Long story short: we won, and we’re still on top. Again, the hatred felt by some of them (and the fear felt by many of us) is indicative of this reality.

The predominant message that the West has communicated to the Arab world in modern history might be summarized thusly: “We’re stronger and better than you.” Of course, this hasn’t necessarily been the intention (though it has been at times); regardless, it is in fact a widespread interpretation -- an interpretation that our country’s recent and ongoing militancy in the region reinforces. 

...So, what does all of this mean for me and my life here? 

It means that whenever someone asks me “Min wayn?” (“Where are you from?”), and I respond, “Min Amreeka,” it is very possible that the word Amreeka reminds him or her of that message: “I’m stronger and better than you.” 

As a matter of fact, we Americans unwittingly communicate this message quite often when we travel, especially (and ironically) in our humanitarian work. Examples abound, but I’ll give just one: our willingness to serve in certain capacities, but not in others -- the grimy or the grueling. Or even the mundane. 

What does this unwillingness communicate? “This work is beneath me.” 

On whose level, then?

Translation: “We’re stronger and better than you.” 

Every Friday morning, I have the opportunity to communicate -- not with my mouth, but with my

 body -- a different message.

“Your work is not beneath me. You are not beneath me. No one is beneath anyone else, for we are all equal in the eyes of God. At the end of the day, all of us will be dirty, all of us will be tired. Really, we are all quite alike.” 

Alhamdulillah. Praise be to God.