Being Family to Each Other

entailed. In other words, “like us in all things but sin” (cf. Heb 4:15).

Analogously, after the Resurrection, the Christian faith became “incarnate” in different yet specific and concrete places, cultures and languages, wherever it struck root. Also analogous to the Incarnation, these local and specific “incarnations” of the faith are not without universal significance and value.

Paul’s letters, in which he addresses the “churches” of Corinth, Rome, Galatia and others, demonstrate clearly how the Christian faith became “incarnate.” In one sense, the geographic marker in Paul’s letters is merely that: the city or province where the church existed. It was clearly not a juridical marker. Nevertheless, one notices in the letters that the churches differ among themselves in many ways. The Corinthian church, for example, tends to be intellectually contentious and susceptible to factions, while rich in charismatic gifts.

As expressed in “Orientale Lumen,” it is clear in the early church that the unity of Christianity was the unity in faith — the communion — that the churches shared with each other, and not uniformity in cultural practice or jurisdiction.

Culture is not something superficial, something “added on” to what is essential. It is a central and incarnational part of Christianity. It colors how we experience, how we believe and how we express that belief. In the words of “Gaudium et Spes”: “In his self-revelation … culminating in the fullness of manifestation in his incarnate Son, God spoke according to the culture proper to each age … [and] the church has utilized the resources of different cultures in its preaching and to spread and explain the message of Christ, to examine and understand it more deeply, and to express it more perfectly.”

As Christianity grew in disciples and geographic reach, local particularities would strengthen, and differences would become more pronounced. Within a century, certain Christian centers developed, each representing the different

In the U.S.: The Rev. Andrew Summerson of Whiting, Indiana, plunges a processional cross into Lake Michigan to complete the Great Blessing of Water that commemorates the feast of Theophany, or the Baptism of Jesus, in the Byzantine tradition.

cultures of different churches: Jerusalem, Antioch, Alexandria, Rome and later Byzantium (or Constantinople). As centers of Christianity grew, scholars, preachers and saints arose, who helped to articulate the local “incarnation” of the faith. The great theological schools of Antioch in Syria, Alexandria in Egypt, and Nisibis in present-day Turkey are three important examples.

Within this considerable diversity, there was belief in the “one, holy, catholic and apostolic church,” consisting of varied communities of believers. The unity certainly was not juridical and most definitely was not a unity accomplished through the submission of one community or culture to another. There was precedence given to the churches of the “Pentarchy,” the five ancient patriarchates — chronologically, Jerusalem, Antioch, Rome, Alexandria, and Constantinople — but it was a precedence of honor and respect, not of submission.

Therefore, with “Orientale Lumen” in 1995, we see the most recent development in the Catholic Church’s understanding of the role of the Eastern churches. The document begins with the principle that the “ancient tradition of the Eastern churches is an integral part of the heritage of Christ’s church,” and that “the full manifestation of the church’s catholicity…[is] expressed not by a single tradition.”

In other words, the Eastern Catholic churches are not simply “add-ons” to be tolerated; they are critical to the mission and credibility of the universal church. The message of salvation is so rich and vast that it cannot be encapsulated in any one culture or tradition. To restrict the manifestation of the Gospel in this way would make the message of salvation less encompassing, less accurate and incomplete.

Noting that “Eastern Christians have their own way of perceiving and understanding,” John Paul II points out in his apostolic letter how the various Eastern Catholic churches and the Roman Catholic Church complement one another in shedding light on issues of faith: “In the study of revealed truth East and West have used different methods and approaches in understanding and confessing divine things. It is hardly surprising, then, if sometimes one tradition has come nearer to a full appreciation of some aspects of a mystery of revelation than the other or has expressed them better.”

Diversity in the Christian life is not a threat to orthodoxy; it is a help to it, and John Paul II recognizes this in “Orientale Lumen.” Recalling the Great Schism between the Eastern and Western churches in 1054, the pope highlights an important reality even for the present, when he laments that the cause for the rift was “a progressive estrangement, so that the other’s diversity was no longer perceived as a common treasure, but as incompatibility.”

This admission is of great importance. In addition to being a refreshing act of theological modesty, it removes one of the dangers that exists in the relationship between the Western and Eastern churches — quaintness. There is a great danger of reducing Eastern churches to interesting, exotic and archival entities, which, for all their quaintness, are irrelevant from a Western Christian point of view. In a real way, this point of view denies the incarnational reality of these churches and their universal significance.

The Eastern churches and their liturgical, spiritual and theological traditions are not ornamental to the church of Christ; they are essential to its catholicity. The Eastern churches are not merely aesthetic treasures, to say nothing of curiosities; nor are they refugees on the large lifeboat of the Western church. They are critical to the very integrity and health of the entire church, functioning as agents of diversity, correction and enrichment, necessary to the life of the whole church.

The Eastern churches, Catholic and Orthodox, are moving into perhaps the most challenging time in their history, as their members continue to leave their homelands and move into a wider world. The term “diaspora” is inappropriate to describe these faith communities living outside of their original homelands. Diaspora implies a scattering. In truth, the Eastern churches may not be experiencing a scattering as much as a missionary commission.

The challenge the Eastern churches face today is to be faithful to their “incarnational” nature in new countries and places: having arisen in a concrete place, time, language and culture, but at the same time bold enough to develop the universal nature of that incarnation. The challenge is not only to adapt to new situations but to contribute to those new situations in ways both creative for the future and faithful to the past. n

Learn about the history, traditions and practices of Eastern Catholic churches on our blog at

cnewa.org/blog

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A Franciscan Friar of the Atonement, Father Elias Mallon represents CNEWA at the United Nations and in ecumenical and interfaith dialogue groups, locally, nationally and internationally.

text by Magdy Samaan with photographs by Roger Anis

M.Erumquam unt facculpa sitam ariae plitiae est et pelendanda During a meeting in Cairo, the mother of a child with special needs asked Father Antoun Francis a question that would set in motion a new, lifechanging mission:

“What will happen to our children after we die?”

By the end of the meeting, the idea of establishing a center for children and adults with special needs, physical and developmental, was born. With the help of the Coptic Catholic Church and some donors, Father Francis broke ground on a parcel of land in Sheraton Cairo, a neighborhood in the northern part of the city near the international airport. It was around the turn of the new millennium.

At about the same time, Father Bishoi Ragheb, who had served the Coptic Catholic community in Los Angeles for 10 years, had returned to Egypt in response to a personal call to start a home for vulnerable children. Father Francis heard of his brother priest’s intentions — and of his difficulty in securing a stable space — and offered him one side of the complex that was being built.

They worked together, with the help of Father Douglas May, an American Maryknoll missionary in Cairo, who was instrumental in the development of the project in its early years. The building was completed in 2003 and opened officially the following year; although Father Ragheb did not wait for the official opening to receive at-risk children to Good Samaritan House. Today, Good Samaritan House serves 32 children while Our Lady of Peace houses 25 residents with special needs.

Egypt’s official census data reports that among the country’s general population of about 100 million people, some 2.6 million live with physical or developmental challenges. However, the United Nations estimates a much greater number of Egyptians — 12 million — have special needs.

Homes for children, orphanages, are rather commonplace in Egypt, where child adoptions are not permitted in accordance with Islamic law. Facilities that care for people with developmental and physical challenges are not so common, however. Due to the lack of residences for this population, many people with special needs suffer extreme poverty and end up on the streets, in asylums or die alone.

Children with developmental needs suffer the most, says Bishop Hani Bakhoum of the curia of the Coptic Catholic Patriarchate of Alexandria since 2019.

“Their families are ashamed of them and thus they are treated badly,” he says. “Before they came here, some of them were locked up under stairs or left homeless on the streets.”

In his role of assisting Patriarch Ibrahim Isaac in the general administration of the patriarchal church, Bishop Bakhoum also oversees the development office of the patriarchate. Its goal is to promote the pastoral and social role of the church in society, serving the marginalized. Both houses are included in the works of the development office.

The first floor of Our Lady of Peace House includes a day school for its residents, as well as for students with special needs from the wider community who still live at home with their parents. The classrooms are specially designed for their needs. The school includes a sensory integration room and a speech therapy room, where students can develop cognitive and motor skills and abilities. The

(Inset) Sonia Salib, manager of Our Lady of Peace House, leads a conga line with residents and staff during recreation.

The CNEWA Connection

One in 10 Egyptians is a Christian — the largest Christian community in the Arab world. Called Copts, Egyptian Christians are among the most vulnerable people in the country, subject to intense discrimination and hostility for generations, and tempted with rewards for conversion to Islam. Dreams of quality education, employment opportunities and equal rights under the law have driven many to emigrate to the West, where vibrant communities now flourish in the United States and Australia.

The apostolic works of the Coptic churches — Catholic, Orthodox and Evangelical — are many and strive to serve the common good of the country, especially the needs of the most marginalized and vulnerable, Christian and Muslim. CNEWA has long supported these efforts, focusing on initiatives that support at-risk children and those with special needs, such as the programs profiled here.

Help CNEWA continue these important works of the churches. Call 1-866-322-444 (Canada), 1-800-442-6392 (United States) or email us at cnewa@cnewa.org.

older students attend an hourlong class in the morning and then spend the rest of the day, until 2 p.m., participating in one of four workshops: hand-looming, candlemaking, crocheting and sewing.

“The work makes them feel valued, even though what they are assigned is a simple task,” says Sonia Salib, the manager of Our Lady of Peace House. “Putting molds in oil is a simple task, but essential in the production of candles.”

Gina, Michael, Christine and Philip sit at a table in the middle of the room, while Engy Saad, who supervises the candle-making workshop, stands nearby, wearing an apron with traces of candlewax. Behind her is a stove, where raw wax is melting in a pot. In one corner of the room are variously shaped molds into which the melted wax is poured. On the other side of the room, the finished candles sit on a set of shelves.

Each person does work according to their ability: Christine cleans the previously used molds with a scraper. Philp lubricates the mold. Michael has the more complex task of installing a wick in the middle of each mold, before Engy pours in the wax. Gina eventually removes the candle from the mold.

“Our primary goal is not to produce, but to use production to teach our students, develop their skills and help them feel valued,” Engy says.

Magda Fayek, 35, is a member of the handloom workshop. She and her sister Nermine, 33, joined Our Lady of Peace House shortly after it opened. Their father had passed away and their mother could not care for them as she, too, had health problems. When their uncle learned of Our Lady of Peace, it became a lifesaver for the family.

In the sewing workshop, Nermine irons a bedsheet in one corner of the room, while Shenouda Zaki, 35, sits at a sewing table.

Like Magda, Nermine has developmental challenges. She was among the first to join the sewing workshop, ironing, cutting and helping Irene Azmy, the workshop supervisor, with the production. She and Magda visit their uncle, who lives in Cairo, on holidays. Nermine is a member of the Our Lady of Peace theater group, which performs at the home’s annual party.

In the sensory integration room, 17-year-old Amany Zarif sits in front of a water column that changes colors. She watches the floating shapes that move about. She suffers from attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and the device helps to focus her attention when she gets distracted.

Ilham Roshdi, the specialist for the sensory integration room, sits next to her, helping her to focus. She says

At left, a resident of Our Lady of Peace (seated) learns new skills during a crochet workshop. Residents and staff of Our Lady of Peace (at right) play a group game while on break from their workshops.

To serve well those with special needs requires people who love this kind of work … who demonstrate the spirit of service and giving.

Amany could not focus for more than 30 seconds at a time previously but, with training, her ability to focus has increased.

Ilham has been working at Our Lady of Peace House for 13 years. As with most of her colleagues, she had volunteered with special needs children at her parish’s Sunday school. She subsequently obtained diplomas in sensory integration and speech therapy.

“When a teacher, who deals with normal children, achieves good results, he is happy,” says Ilham. “We deal with children who come to us who often are a blank piece of paper; when we achieve a good result, we feel thrilled.”

Ilham is qualified to work with people with special needs. However, it has not been easy for the house to hire qualified teachers, especially supervisors, whose job it is to assist the residents around the clock.

To serve those with physical and intellectual challenges well, it “requires people who love this kind of work, not just someone who is seeking a job,” says Sonia, the house director. “Therefore, I am careful to choose the workers.”

She explains that she selects her staff mostly from among those who have served people with special needs in a church setting and who demonstrate “the spirit of service and giving.”

Eight supervisors work in the assisted living component of Our Lady of Peace House: five are assigned to the female residents and three are assigned to the male residents. Each supervisor resides with three people and assists them with their daily needs and routines, such as bathing, dressing, and at mealtimes, throughout the day.