"Blessed be Egypt my people"
“Blessed be Egypt my people”
In Turkey it took great faith to believe that God was at work in the breaking of cement. Therefore, going to Egypt was a shock. We were going further into the Arab world, where spiritually the situation would be worse. At least that was my superficial expectation, despite a prediction to the contrary from M, who knows both countries well. In Egypt, even during our short stay, we could see evidence of God’s working everywhere. He surprised us at every turn; I could almost hear him saying, “Your imagination is too small!”
Take for example, St. Simon, where we stayed above Mokattam. I thought I knew something about the Coptic Church from church history lessons, from the news, and from a wonderful little Egyptian novel, Aunt Saffiya and the Monastery. In reality I knew nothing, and even now I only know that I must learn more. Who would ever have guessed that the beautiful entrance to a cathedral standing out from the rock is really just a façade? Behind it is a 10,000 seat stone amphitheater, filled to capacity our first night there for a weekly praise service, complete with overhead projectors and the Egyptian equivalent of guitars and drums. We were told that this is the largest church in the Middle East. Evidently all sorts of services take place there, these kinds of praise services, prayer and healing services, “ordinary” worship services. I did not hear the fiery evangelist/preacher that night, leaving early because I did not feel well, but Father Simon made quite an impression on my fellow travelers, language barrier not withstanding. It is he who has given permission for the Trekkers to live at the monastery and do their work. It is he who is envisioning a school for the handicapped to add to the other social institutions he supervises. A and S met with him on our last day after his 6:30 a.m. service to further cement our ties to St. Simon. We missed our opportunity to go to an evangelical church service in the city as a result, but for the mutual benefit of the Trek in Egypt and this Coptic center, it was worth it. Conforming more to my imagination were the pilgrims chanting together in front of icons in a much smaller cave church on the St. Simon grounds. Men in long black robes, musical chants, murmuring in the semi-quiet: that fit my picture. Somehow both strands of the church hold together. Thinking about the struggles over worship styles in my own small church, I can’t help but wonder how and marvel!
We were told that the key to this revival was the fact that by the 1950’s the Coptic Orthodox Church felt threatened by some of the first evangelical churches in Egypt and so fought back on its own terms. It began by buying Bibles. The Sunday School teachers began to use the available Protestant books as resources for their classes, and today the Bible is central to its spiritual life. The greatest legacy of Protestantism in Egypt is what it gave to the Coptic Orthodox Church. It is permissible to sell Bibles and Christian materials in Egypt, but it is not permissible to give them away. The Egypt Bible Society is taking advantage of the law and is growing in size and in creative methods to get out the Good News. What a privilege it was to meet with its president, who is an old friend of IVCF and IFES from his days forty years ago in a Canadian university. As he rehearsed the history of Christianity in Egypt for us, he affirmed that from antiquity his country has been a place of “tombs and temples, not palaces.” Its religious nature has made it fertile soil for the growth still going on. He thrilled us with his recital of how “The Passion of the Christ” was received here. He pulled out a fat file of newspaper clippings about the movie. None was negative and one even quoted the Bible as evidence for various scenes as well as reprinted a sermon that explained why the crucifixion was necessary (something that the film itself does not do). The Society is capitalizing on the interest generated by the film to sell copies of the Jesus film and scripture portions, thus distributing more than they could have imagined.
Another leader we were privileged to meet was the Anglican Bishop of Egypt and North Africa. We were his guests at a wonderfully simple and delicious lunch in his residence across the street from the cathedral compound. I might have guessed we were deeper into Africa as we entered the compound to wait for him; it was filled with colorfully dressed, black African people, Sudanese refugees, we were told, with whom the church is working (as is the second Trek team in Cairo). The inscription on the rock in the center of the courtyard read “Out of Egypt have I called my son.” The Bishop shared the story of how he became the leader of this large diocese although up to his election he was “simply” a doctor sharing Jesus with his patients and a leader in his local church. He also shared his vision for the continued growth of the church in North Africa, where there is growth in most of the countries. Quietly, he said, “I love Muslims.” How wonderful it was to hear this. (If I have one regret about the trip it is that we did not intersect with Muslims in Egypt except for the whirling dervish performance, which was more folk art than religious devotion.) I cannot stress the word “privilege” too strongly. We American Christians may think we are bringing God with us (and hopefully we are as we strive to exhibit the fruit of the Spirit and try to live out Jesus’ commands), but even more truly God is already here, ready to meet us, in the lives of his Egyptian servants, who have given themselves to his mission in their country. We have so much to learn from them.
The Sunday I after I arrived home, our pastor finished his series on Jeremiah. He told the story of Jeremiah’s remaining with the remnant in Jerusalem even though he could have gone to Babylon with special privileges. The residents of Jerusalem came to him and asked him to find out from God whether they should still try to find safety in Egypt. It was doubtful God would change his message that had stayed consistent for decades, but Jeremiah asked God, who told them no. However, they did not listen and dragged Jeremial to Egypt with them where they all dropped out of history—for of course they were not safe there either. The Assyrians conquered Egypt as well. “Returning to Egypt,” my pastor said, is a symbol of failure of faith and of lack of obedience, and we ourselves must refuse to go there. “No,” I wanted to interrupt him, “No! God is at work in Egypt—right now, today. Return to Egypt and you’ll see for yourself.” Of course, Egypt is not the only location to symbolize a spiritual condition in the Bible. Think of Babylon itself or Jerusalem. The actual Egypt, the physical expanse of sand and rock and millions of people, is the object of God’s blessing. Afterwards I told him about how we had studied Isaiah 19 in that cave church in St. Simon Monastery. Yes, Isaiah predicts doom for Egypt, but all of a sudden, he looks ahead to “in that day.” “The Lord will strike Egypt with a plague, but he will strike them and heal them. They will turn to the Lord, and he will respond to their pleas and heal them. In that day, there will be a highway from Egypt to Assyria [the present day Iraq]….In that day Israel will the third, along with Egypt and Assyria, a blessing on the earth. The Lord Almighty will bless them, saying, ‘Blessed be Egypt my people, Assyria my handiwork and Israel my inheritance.’” This promise seems to be coming true even now so that we, at least, felt that God blessed us through Egypt his people.
In Turkey it took great faith to believe that God was at work in the breaking of cement. Therefore, going to Egypt was a shock. We were going further into the Arab world, where spiritually the situation would be worse. At least that was my superficial expectation, despite a prediction to the contrary from M, who knows both countries well. In Egypt, even during our short stay, we could see evidence of God’s working everywhere. He surprised us at every turn; I could almost hear him saying, “Your imagination is too small!”
Take for example, St. Simon, where we stayed above Mokattam. I thought I knew something about the Coptic Church from church history lessons, from the news, and from a wonderful little Egyptian novel, Aunt Saffiya and the Monastery. In reality I knew nothing, and even now I only know that I must learn more. Who would ever have guessed that the beautiful entrance to a cathedral standing out from the rock is really just a façade? Behind it is a 10,000 seat stone amphitheater, filled to capacity our first night there for a weekly praise service, complete with overhead projectors and the Egyptian equivalent of guitars and drums. We were told that this is the largest church in the Middle East. Evidently all sorts of services take place there, these kinds of praise services, prayer and healing services, “ordinary” worship services. I did not hear the fiery evangelist/preacher that night, leaving early because I did not feel well, but Father Simon made quite an impression on my fellow travelers, language barrier not withstanding. It is he who has given permission for the Trekkers to live at the monastery and do their work. It is he who is envisioning a school for the handicapped to add to the other social institutions he supervises. A and S met with him on our last day after his 6:30 a.m. service to further cement our ties to St. Simon. We missed our opportunity to go to an evangelical church service in the city as a result, but for the mutual benefit of the Trek in Egypt and this Coptic center, it was worth it. Conforming more to my imagination were the pilgrims chanting together in front of icons in a much smaller cave church on the St. Simon grounds. Men in long black robes, musical chants, murmuring in the semi-quiet: that fit my picture. Somehow both strands of the church hold together. Thinking about the struggles over worship styles in my own small church, I can’t help but wonder how and marvel!
We were told that the key to this revival was the fact that by the 1950’s the Coptic Orthodox Church felt threatened by some of the first evangelical churches in Egypt and so fought back on its own terms. It began by buying Bibles. The Sunday School teachers began to use the available Protestant books as resources for their classes, and today the Bible is central to its spiritual life. The greatest legacy of Protestantism in Egypt is what it gave to the Coptic Orthodox Church. It is permissible to sell Bibles and Christian materials in Egypt, but it is not permissible to give them away. The Egypt Bible Society is taking advantage of the law and is growing in size and in creative methods to get out the Good News. What a privilege it was to meet with its president, who is an old friend of IVCF and IFES from his days forty years ago in a Canadian university. As he rehearsed the history of Christianity in Egypt for us, he affirmed that from antiquity his country has been a place of “tombs and temples, not palaces.” Its religious nature has made it fertile soil for the growth still going on. He thrilled us with his recital of how “The Passion of the Christ” was received here. He pulled out a fat file of newspaper clippings about the movie. None was negative and one even quoted the Bible as evidence for various scenes as well as reprinted a sermon that explained why the crucifixion was necessary (something that the film itself does not do). The Society is capitalizing on the interest generated by the film to sell copies of the Jesus film and scripture portions, thus distributing more than they could have imagined.
Another leader we were privileged to meet was the Anglican Bishop of Egypt and North Africa. We were his guests at a wonderfully simple and delicious lunch in his residence across the street from the cathedral compound. I might have guessed we were deeper into Africa as we entered the compound to wait for him; it was filled with colorfully dressed, black African people, Sudanese refugees, we were told, with whom the church is working (as is the second Trek team in Cairo). The inscription on the rock in the center of the courtyard read “Out of Egypt have I called my son.” The Bishop shared the story of how he became the leader of this large diocese although up to his election he was “simply” a doctor sharing Jesus with his patients and a leader in his local church. He also shared his vision for the continued growth of the church in North Africa, where there is growth in most of the countries. Quietly, he said, “I love Muslims.” How wonderful it was to hear this. (If I have one regret about the trip it is that we did not intersect with Muslims in Egypt except for the whirling dervish performance, which was more folk art than religious devotion.) I cannot stress the word “privilege” too strongly. We American Christians may think we are bringing God with us (and hopefully we are as we strive to exhibit the fruit of the Spirit and try to live out Jesus’ commands), but even more truly God is already here, ready to meet us, in the lives of his Egyptian servants, who have given themselves to his mission in their country. We have so much to learn from them.
The Sunday I after I arrived home, our pastor finished his series on Jeremiah. He told the story of Jeremiah’s remaining with the remnant in Jerusalem even though he could have gone to Babylon with special privileges. The residents of Jerusalem came to him and asked him to find out from God whether they should still try to find safety in Egypt. It was doubtful God would change his message that had stayed consistent for decades, but Jeremiah asked God, who told them no. However, they did not listen and dragged Jeremial to Egypt with them where they all dropped out of history—for of course they were not safe there either. The Assyrians conquered Egypt as well. “Returning to Egypt,” my pastor said, is a symbol of failure of faith and of lack of obedience, and we ourselves must refuse to go there. “No,” I wanted to interrupt him, “No! God is at work in Egypt—right now, today. Return to Egypt and you’ll see for yourself.” Of course, Egypt is not the only location to symbolize a spiritual condition in the Bible. Think of Babylon itself or Jerusalem. The actual Egypt, the physical expanse of sand and rock and millions of people, is the object of God’s blessing. Afterwards I told him about how we had studied Isaiah 19 in that cave church in St. Simon Monastery. Yes, Isaiah predicts doom for Egypt, but all of a sudden, he looks ahead to “in that day.” “The Lord will strike Egypt with a plague, but he will strike them and heal them. They will turn to the Lord, and he will respond to their pleas and heal them. In that day, there will be a highway from Egypt to Assyria [the present day Iraq]….In that day Israel will the third, along with Egypt and Assyria, a blessing on the earth. The Lord Almighty will bless them, saying, ‘Blessed be Egypt my people, Assyria my handiwork and Israel my inheritance.’” This promise seems to be coming true even now so that we, at least, felt that God blessed us through Egypt his people.
posted by Barb @ 8:19 PM
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