Thursday, January 13, 2011

There is but one Arab Church, with suffering and joy for all (Contribution)

Looking at the withdrawn faces of the public figures attending Midnight Mass in Cairo’s cathedral, including the sombre face of Greek-Catholic Patriarch Gregory III, I was struck by an idea.

Why did the other Eastern patriarchs not attend the event? 

Why did the swirls of incense not rise that night in Bkerké, Balamand, Damascus, Antioch, Jerusalem and Baghdad as they did in Alexandria?

By association of ideas, I began thinking about the Baghdad attack, the great momentum of solidarity that came with it as well as the limits of the verbal zeal that led more than one person to say that it was not enough, that we had to act.

We do not lack the means to act, and the first thing to do is to go there. 

The Lebanese delegations that represented Offre-Joie and Christian Scouts that travelled to Baghdad for Christmas did the only logical and meaningful thing to do. They went “where God weeps” to show their solidarity and express their hope. We Lebanese Christians visit the Holy Valley, Kadisha, throughout the year. 

Today the holy valleys are in Baghdad and Alexandria.

There is but one Church, the mystical body of Christ. When some suffer, everyone suffers. When some rejoice, everyone rejoices. If there is one Arab world, it follows that there is only one Arab Church, which we, the Eastern Churches, make up together.

In the neighbourhood of Soufanieh, in Damascus, we never talk about the unity of the Churches but of the “unity of the Church.” 

Since 1985, the stigmata of the Passion that mark the body of Mirna el-Akhras appear only in some years, like this one in which Catholics and Orthodox celebrated Easter together.

On the dome of the Church of Al-Warrak, in Cairo, Our Lady appeared on 10 December 2009 to thousands of Egyptians, Christians and Muslims alike. Some took pictures of a luminous figure that resembled a lot to the apparitions of Zeitoun, in 1968, and Mousseitbé, in 1970.

All it takes to be sure about it is to visit the site that bears that name. The silent message is that of a mother that brings comfort to anyone who honours or invokes her, be they Copts, Iraqi Christians or anyone else who faced, faces or shall face trying experiences.

Between agony and birth, Benedict XVI did not offer Synodal Fathers meeting in the Vatican a third choice back in October, to reflect upon the situation of Catholic Churches in the Middle East.  

Outlining the main moments in the history of Salvation, the Pope spoke prophetically about the “idols” torn down after the arrival of Christ, starting with the Roman emperor, who has been venerated as a God at that time.

Likewise, the “false divinities” of our age, “the anonymous capitals that reduce man to slavery  . . . terrorist ideologies . . . violence carried out in the name of God . . . lifestyles promoted by public opinion . . . drugs” will also fall, he said.

“We are spectators to a real historical process, the fall of the gods,” Benedict XVI said, “but the loss of power by the forces that rule the earth is also a painful process. The blood of the martyrs, the pain and the cry of Mother Church that resonate in the Book of the Apocalypse will lead to their fall and to the transformation of the earth.”

As for the East, Christians must aspire to holiness and be ready, if need be, to suffer martyrdom “after doing everything humanly possible” to defend themselves by the legitimate means at their disposal, said Mgr Michel Sabbah, Latin Patriarch Emeritus of Jerusalem, last year at a conference in Beirut.

“After doing all this, and if threats still hang over them, Christians must accept that they inhabit his history. To flee history is to flee the will of God. History is the place where we meet God,” said this Arab Christian, who came, so to speak, from the heart of the suffering of the Palestinian people.

SIC: AN/INT'L