Commodifying Religion: Why #GlobalCopticDay Is a Disaster Long-term

I’ve been to many Greek Orthodox churches across the country, and one of the most salient features of Greek churches in the United States is emptiness.

It’s odd because, still, in most cities, there are Greek festivals–whether in Chicago, Boston, or Nashville. And there are tours of Greek churches by mostly-white people, and there are snacks like chips and drinks like soda and commodities like baklava and gyros and Greek handbags.

This is when you’ll find the church most alive, its emptiness hallowed out for other people.

If you attend a Greek Orthodox liturgy, most of the parishioners are older–third or fourth generation–or families with young children, but their high school and college students are elsewhere. Fascinatingly, like every religious tradition, the Greek Orthodox church in the United States suffered a “youth decline” and has yet to fully recover.

The question is: how did this happen? How does a church–across the country–atrophy like this? Yet still have a booming business every year (i.e. the Greek Festival)? How does a church empty of its religiosity and gain merely commodity?

It’s a slow process: you covert the liturgy into a single language, so that in time, parishioners in the United States don’t know how to communicate or pray with people in the homeland; you create disconnection in hopes of connecting to whiteness. You claim that you converted the words of the liturgy (but you’re actually also converting meaning of the liturgy) because you want to keep youth. You’re still hemorrhaging. Instead of helping the new immigrants of your congregation–because, God forbid, you claim poverty as an feature of being Greek in the United States–you reach out and missionize. Not to the poor. Not to the broken. Who are your own. But rather to the rich, the powerful, the privileged. You do this in hopes of gaining a presence in this country.

A lot of this slow process that the Greek Orthodox church went through and that, now, the Coptic Church–a century later–is going through is instructed by US racism and immigration policy:

Most immigrant communities–because this is a capitalist society that, through the US immigration policies, mimics its own white culture–are highly stratified. That is, there are a few at the top who offer this country skilled labor; they’re professors, doctors, engineers. And then you have the majority of the population who are janitors, secretaries, housekeeping, factory workers–the rejected of society and of the church.

This high-stratification creates numerous issues of difference in a church. Whereas in Egypt and Greece–who are both, before, not truly capitalist countries–have churches based on neighborhoods, and therefore, people not only know each other but work and live and interact with one another outside of church, the United States changes that radically, so that church isn’t based on neighborhood, but rather imagined identitifications: Copts from a thirty mile radius who don’t know each other, have different dialects and histories and livelihoods and values, gather together in one space every Sunday.

Instead of combatting this situation with intra-community help–that is, the rich help the poor–the community breaks from each other. It’s at this moment where the majority of church-goers are in need of desperate help–in school, in unions, in work, in home–that the church servants cannot handle these desperations. You often hear, “The people are lazy,” or “the children are ignorant and the parents are arrogant.” All of this in discussing the poor. Sound familiar?

Once a religion vilifies the poor–the majority of its population–and glorifies the rich as community examples and pillars, the problem has gone beyond itself. What started as mere dialectic/linguistic, historical and cultural differences has emerged as a class issue, which has finalized and crystallized as Another issue.

You hear this often in new immigrant communities in the US–and elsewhere. It’s difficult to pinpoint the Self when you’re a migrant. Land and location are critical to human existence, but what differs in the United States is the vocabulary used to describe the Self. This vocabulary is limited because it is racist. It’s limited to race. It’s limited to color. It’s limited to the connotation of differences that cannot be breached.

To save themselves, the rich and privileged participate in this: they manufacture difference between themselves and the poor whom they label “Egyptian” and name themselves “Americans” as imagined–same as what occurred a century before among the Greeks.

Citizenship and race, as always in the United States, formulated existences and belongings.

It is then natural for the rich and privileged to manufacture not only their own identities, but also the church’s, since they’re the ones on church boards and are the theoretical servants of the church. They then commodify the church; in other words, they make the church a marketing strategy. They print flyers to bring people to tour the church–but not to pray together; they sell snacks that white people will buy (as opposed to Black or Latinx neighbors); they commodify their culture back home with trinkets and clothes and sell them for exorbitant prices; and, now, they create hashtags to imagine experience and connection through technologies.

Religion is seen as fun. Religion is seen as community when, in actuality, the bonds of community are severing in the background. While the festival sings, others groan, paying off rent and bills, staring at the healthcare bill they can’t pay, hoping Monday comes sooner so that they can ask about the Immigration Office’s new mail.

While the party lives and roars, the people suffer.

While others take pride and say, “See what our culture offered the world” with art and dance, the people are left behind.

While the festival marches forward, the people fester, unable to find acceptance even among their own.

History doesn’t repeat itself, but it has a rhyme to it, and #GlobalCopticDay matches that rhyme’s pitch. The United States forces that pitch upon the weak-hearted who prefer social acceptance with whiteness–as a means of gaining true citizenship since paperwork doesn’t matter greatly in the United States–than social acceptance with their own, with the downtrodden, with the oppressed. #GlobalCopticDay isn’t about being Coptic—it’s about how to be Coptic. It’s about English, and not Arabic; it’s about fun and games, and not religion; it’s about fitting into Western civilization through ancient Egypt, and not finding solidarity with the oppressed; it’s about citizenship in the United States, and not transnationally being proud to be Coptic without states or borders or languages.

#GlobalCopticDay ain’t that deep: it’s a day to uplift the privileged of our communities to whiteness, while letting the unprivileged of our societies wallow in the background, and ironically, while the privileged try to bring people closer to God with fun and games (think: bread and circus), God lies somewhere in the background with the oppressed, never to come to the foreground because the day isn’t about Him/Them at all.

Church and State: The Most-Assured, yet Deadliest, Alliance

As some may know, I am writing my master’s thesis on the papal ban on Coptic pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and the deeper implications that ensued for both those in diaspora who disobey the ban and those in Egypt who enforce the ban. Meddled in this identity politics is the State–of Egypt and of the United States–to whom many Copts supplicate in an attempt to belong somewhere beyond the Church.

My research goes deep into the question of Church and State relations in Egypt where, seemingly, the two are juxtaposed, as the State doesn’t prosecute Church bombers, for insistence, while the Church weakly votes for the better of two evils. In actuality, though, the pope and bishops–that is, the Church administration–and the rich of Egypt benefit from this tense relationship: the State receives the Church’s clergy’s obedience in being silent on human rights issues and also advocates for the State abroad by claiming that dictators keep their promises, despite realities among the people. The Church benefits from this obedience in that it earns itself the chair as the spokesperson of the Coptic people, creating a uniform and hierarchal and patriarchal church (no pun intended). Thus, we see that both benefit from the other; each offers the other legitimacy on an international level.

We saw this come at a head in the 1970s when Pope Shenouda III broke protocol and stood disobedient before Sadat–choosing not to defend his stances internationally and domestically. In the end, the pope was disposed and two bishops were made to take his spot, and chaos ensued.

It’s important, then, to see why Pope Shenouda returned from his banishment quieter and with a focused internal gaze determined to fix the clerical and monastic structures that had refused to stand next to him, bringing on the chaos. It’s also important, then, to see why Pope Tawadros II didn’t follow his predecessor’s earlier footsteps and instead he chose to conform to the State’s desire, preferring structure and power of the clergy over democracy (that is, rule by the people in and out of the Church).

We now approach the latest tragedy that has tested the Church’s hierarchy: the murder (martyrdom?) of Anba Epiphanous, the scholar and abbot of Dar abu Maqar in Wadi a-Natrun.

The facts are as follows: the bishop was found dead on Sunday morning, hit by a metal object to the back of the head. Notably, this monk had a Western presence, as he was one of the Board members of Agora University in the United States, and he traveled often to Western countries. The State automatically jumped to investigate the murder, interrogating 150 monks and 400 people total within one week of the murder. Also within a week, the Church released 12 decrees to “organize and regain order in monasteries.” Less than two weeks after the murder, two monks were defrocked and told to go back to their old lives, old names, as shown below (I had shown it on my snapchat after getting it from Abouna Isaiah’s, one of the defrocked below, facebook page, after someone had posted it with a comment of outrage of his defrocking. His facebook is now deleted, after news of his attempted suicide came forward.)

Finally, two monks attempted suicide: Abouna Faltaous, after cutting his wrists, tried to kill himself by jumping off a large building in the monastery, and Abouna Isaiah (the one mentioned above) via poison. This has all taken place in less than a month.

 

These are the facts, but now there are facts that extend beyond the noted:

First, the legacy of his monastery, Dar Abu Maqar, is of importance. Monasteries, in general, in Egypt, are sites of resistance as they are far from the center of power (whether the Patriarch, who is centered in Alexandria and Cairo, or the State’s dictator); being far from power, they are sites of scholarship, community, and discussion–three aspects not found near the centers of power. One of the greatest examples of this resistance to power was in 1979 when Pope Shenouda was exiled by the then-president, Sadat, for opposing the Israeli Peace Treaty/Camp David Accords, and Abouna Matta al-Miskin, in the vacuum of power, came to be interviewed.

Note that this monk, Abouna Matta al-Miskin, was the abbot of Dar Abu Maqar and the teacher of Anba Epiphanous.

Abouna Matta, already a strong and vocal opponent to Pope Shenouda politically and theologically, was interviewed saying that Pope Shenouda’s decision to oppose Sadat was wrong and that Sadat’s ordinances were God’s will–a very controversial and divisive statement to say, especially when your patriarch is banished to a monastery and there are many questions of his return, the bishops who are siding with Sadat and took over without argument, and the imprisonment of many bishops and priests during that time as well.

The legacy of this monastery, then, are important to keep in mind because this monastery isn’t just a building in the desert, but rather a thorn to the patriarch’s (and State’s) side since Pope Shenouda’s era. (This explains why Pope Tawadros, shortly after the murder, took the opportunity to reorder monastic life, and first and foremost, order the cutting of ties between monks and the outside world through social media. As monks continually engage their communities, the 12 decrees clearly slice through that legacy of communication and inter-communal relations, and the Pope has yet to tell us what the cutting off of communication has to do with the murder, despite his insistence.)

Second, the nature of this monk, Abouna Isaiah, whom I met in May 2017, is critical and ties into my last point about the 12 decrees being not a response to the murder but rather an opportunity seized after the murder.

I met Abouna Isaiah in May 2017. My aunts, cousin, and I were visiting Wadi a-Natrun, and on our way back to Al-Giza is this monastery. Our driver was anxious, pushing us to leave Anba Pishoy and Dar al-Surian, believing we wouldn’t make it in time for the closing of the guards at Dar Abu Maqar at 4 pm.

We arrived at the gates well-past 5:30 pm, and there was no longer security; the gatekeeper approached us, informed us that the monastery was closed, but after we informed him that we really wanted to visit, he nodded, asked for our information and let us through without any scan, which is typical of monastic security now.

We entered, parked, and walked over to the main Church to receive the blessing; what surprised me was how many people there were in the monastery: it was packed. Children were running around, and adults were trickling in and out. On our way out, actually, a French interviewer (the time being around 7 pm) came in to speak to the monks about terrorism in Egypt. This is how lax life was (or is) at the monastery.

When we entered the main Church, Abouna Isaiah was inside telling the story of Abu Makar to a group of children and adults. We sat in the back, and when we finished, Abouna approached us and said he’d give us a tour of the monastery. Afterwards, knowing that we were from out of the country, he made us tea and sat to discuss politics (Donald’s election, Sisi’ taxes, etc.) and economics, and it was clear he was intimately informed of how difficult life was in and out of the country. He then friended us on facebook, where he posted Bible verses and photos with visitors.

When the news broke that Abouna Isaiah would be defrocked, streams of people posted on his facebook about the tragedy and how they wouldn’t stand with the Church’s decision, believing him to be a good and noble human. (Many even somehow attached his defrocking with the murder, which was not explicitly stated in the Church’s decree, and shows how badly the Pope and his administration handled the crisis.) It should also be noted that Abouna Isaiah had been reprimanded by Pope Tawadros once before, but the monks of his monastery stood with Abouna Isaiah and demanded that he be forgiven; Anba Epiphanous was one of those monks advocating for him. Abouna Isaiah was forgiven by the higher administration, and supposedly returned to his ways, and now Pope Tawadros has returned to the crisis in such a way to end it.

Following the public defrocking, we found that Abouna Isaiah had attempted suicide by drinking poison.

As a Sunday School teacher, with many an unruly class, I can say by experience how strongly I disagree with the patriarch’s steps in disciplining the monks. Even if they have committed the most heinous of crimes, such as murder, although I doubt a monk would kill the abbot who advocated for him with a metal blunt object to the head, we should not treat others as though there is no redemption. Abouna Isaiah’s attempted suicide (and Abouna Faltaous’ and even Anba Epiphanous’ murder) are then our society’s fault for presenting life as those with four walls, made of human backs turned against a trapped victim’s face.

Instead of presenting the crisis as a discussion, with consequences made to redeem,  for the community and for the monks, we could have arrived at a greater truth than, as the Pope put it, “The obedient son receives the blessing.”

Third, we arrive at the issue of the Church’s handling this situation(s) alongside the State’s intervention of the State. Neither side is honest or direct, believing that the public isn’t important, although the public has been deeply affected by the events.

It’s clear that the State, unlike any other tragedy that befalls the Coptic Church, has taken the lead as the high profile of Anba Epiphanous is an important narrative they wish to control. And of course, the deaths of many, such as in the bombings of Tanta, aren’t ones to investigate, only exploit, as Sisi promises rebuilding and stability to an international and domestic audience to boost his image; dictators survive off violence and fear.

It’s also clear that the Church’s administration has found the chance to demand a public’s obedience and submission, after chaotic years following the 2011 and 2013 revolutions, in which Copts began protests despite the Patriarchs’ disapproval.

This isn’t merely a reordering of a monastery, but also a reordering a society. 

In his papal Wednesday address, Pope Tawadros, much like Sisi, demanded obedience from the people and, while quoting Sisi, mentioned that “not everything you hear is true,” and while I agree with this fact, it’s obvious that the Pope merely is advocating for himself as a spokesperson of the Church and its affairs, and social media, such as facebook and twitter, have broken his authority to control information (much in the same way Sisi’s authority has been challenged via social media). ً

Hence, the 12 decrees demand a closure to accepting monks for one year, as the number of monks surpasses 1,000 for the first time in Coptic history (and the history of our resistance); hence, the 12 decrees demand less bishops, despite the need of the Church for leaders especially in diaspora, because the Patriarch needs to vet his leaders; hence, the 12 decrees demand zero-tolerance for social media and communal engagements between monks and the outside world because their resistance cannot spread beyond the monastery’s borders,

This isn’t merely a reordering of a monastery, but also a reordering a society. 

It’s also interesting that in his papal address, the Pope continues to speak on an international, transnational level, even calling the Coptic Church the “Egyptian Church.” Note how particular the change and the significance of emphasizing a national church with an international image instead of a domestic, communal, ancient Church.

Secondly, in keeping with this line, the Pope continues in this address to mention how much Egypt has given the world. Image is an important theme in this address. Egypt doesn’t birth murderers and rumors and scandals (hence, why the State has jumped on this case), but rather Egypt births scholars, religious men, and men worthy of imitation. Image is crucial to the Church’s growth, to the Pope’s retention of power. (But actually fixing the situation that birthed the tragedy isn’t–note.)

This isn’t merely a reordering of a monastery, but also a reordering a society. 

Moreover, as I keep repeating, this is a story of power, and as Judith Butler reminds us, power isn’t based on logic or merit, but rather contradiction and control. 

I know that I perhaps sound crazy, but this will be written about later, when others have come to the same conclusions after discussions of “the monastery has high walls! How could a murderer come from the outside?” among the narrow-minded pause and take attention to the deeper questions of societal reactions and interactions and the history of Coptic resistance in monasteries.

You may continue to believe that it’s within the Church’s best interests to act as such, secretive and with a demand for blind obedience, but let me ask in conclusion:

1. Why demand a lack of communication in a time that needs it the most?
2. Why is forgiveness not on the table for the monks–especially a monk that Anba Epiphanous forgave and brought back to his monastery? What image is Pope Tawadros and the Church administration attempting to paint?
3. What is the connection of “reordering the monasteries” (and why all? even the nuns?) and the murder? What does social media have to do with it? What does accepting monks have to do with it? Why have something general applied everywhere, instead of decrees, specific, for each place to meet their needs? Who benefits from these decrees? Why does the State happen to also benefit from these decrees more than the people?
4. Why does the Pope and his administration continually demand obedience without offering equal footing of knowledge and communication with the public? Why demand that we be sheep?

The irony, perhaps then, is that although this relationship between Church and State in Egypt is the most assured through time, since the welcoming of Islamic leaders to legitimize the Orthodox patriarch over the Catholic one, this relationship is the deadliest for those in the middle–those sheep–who, though told to be docile, have so few who are speaking, shouting, demanding.

An Important Article Concerning Social Justice and the Orthodox Church

For those who want to research or start to know about the Orthodox Church’s presence during the Civil Rights Movement, here are two good articles:

This is an article from a Greek-run site about the Archbishop Iakovos marching with the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.

This second one concerns racism as a heresy, in the Eastern Orthodox Church.

The Coptic Church, of a later wave of immigration to the United States, has yet to stand such heights, but I want to point to these two articles because of a conversation I have had recently with a convert to the Eastern Orthodox Church who accused the Greek and Russian Orthodox Churches of being “racialized.”

People of color cannot racialize a space or context, as they are the ones who live in racialized spaces and contexts that white people create and propagate. But rather, we must realize, as the Reverend MLK argued and, I’m sure, Archbishop Ivakovos as well, when people of color dare to form spaces and contexts just for them, it’s not for the purpose to dominate or out of prejudice, but rather out of a need-even a desperate need-to heal, or at least to find healing in one another.

Safe spaces, then, are not equal to white corporate board rooms. Safe spaces have a different functionality, a different purpose, a different legacy.

Likewise, Greek, Russian, or even Coptic Churches are not like white Protestant churches which forced Black peoples to convert to Christianity (in order to legitimize their dominance as master), but rather these Churches–these safe spaces–are spaces of healing from the racism and hatred of white people we face in this country.

Just a reminder.