Blog: Posting #3
January 27, 2008
Christian unity—a complicated matter in a place so rich with religious heritage for the three Abrahamic Traditions: Judaism, Christianity and Islam. This past week is like no other in Jerusalem’s cycle of religious rites, festivals, holy days and commemorations, and it was my good fortune to have been here for it! Today (Sunday, 1-27) we will complete an octave of shared prayer for Christian unity. All Christians living in Jerusalem are invited to come together each afternoon from 5-6 p.m. and pray for unity among us. On the opening evening, it just happened that I sat next to a Methodist minister from Northern Ireland—so a Roman Catholic Sister with family roots in Southern Ireland and a Protestant minister from Northern Ireland praying together in Jerusalem for Christian unity is indeed a sign of progress for our world!
So, to tease out a minimal understanding of this complexity, there will be three parts to this week’s blog entry.
Part I: Christian Diversity Represented in Israel
During the week we have traveled from one Christian tradition’s church to another and prayed in English, Arabic, Aramaic, Syriac, Latin, German, French, Spanish, Ge’ez (the liturgical language of the Ethiopians, having its roots in Hebrew and Arabic), and Hebrew. Here is a snapshot of information about the kinds of Christian expression that has planted itself in the Holy Land:
Chalcedonian-Orthodox Churches, also called the Greek-Orthodox Church, originated in the Byzantine Empires. “The Greek Orthodox Patriarchate (ecclesial center of power and authority) considers itself to be the ‘mother church’ of Jerusalem. Since 1054 it has been in schism with Rome.” Pope Paul VI, the Pope largely responsible for continuing the important work of interreligious and ecumenical dialogue begun at the Vatican II Council, met with the Patriarch of Constantinople in 1964. This gesture has greatly improved relations between the Church in the East and West. The Greek Orthodox Church has preserved the Hellenistic influences that remain at the fore of their mission.
Today, these Churches are represented in the Israeli/Palestinian region by about 120,000 members in Jerusalem, Galilee, Judea, Samaria and Gaza. The Russian Orthodox and Rumanian Orthodox Churches also have smaller communities in the region. There are many Russian pilgrims venturing to Jerusalem and while many travelers from around the world are fearful to come to the Holy Land because of recent political instability in the region, Eastern Europeans are reveling in this, their first real opportunity in this modern era of mobility, to come to the place where Jesus walked. (Their currency is apparently fairing a bit better than the US dollar, as well!)
Non-Chalcedonian Orthodox Churches are the four Christian Churches of the East: Armenian Orthodox, Coptic Orthodox, Ethiopian and Syrian Churches. They share the distinguishing theological characteristic of having rejected the teachings of the Council of Chalcedon (451) regarding the divine and human nature of Christ. Faithful to the Monophysite belief that Christ had only one divine nature, there is a strong liturgical emphasis on the mysterious Christ who is strongly depicted in John’s gospel.
Armenian people have had a very hard road. They became the victims of the twentieth century’s first genocide at the hands of the Turks. This has been in the US news lately as there have been various efforts in Congress to recognize this atrocity in light of diplomatic relations with Turkey. What is significant about the Armenian presence in this region is obvious in terms of their Jewish sisters and brothers who likewise have had to overcome insurmountable odds to move past the devastating psycho-social-spiritual effects of genocide.
During this past week, we prayed at the Ethiopian Church. In the Acts of the Apostles, chapter 8, the Ethiopian eunuch was the first Gentile convert recorded in Acts. The meaning we might bring to this today is in better appreciating the African Christian Churches for their creative and energized expressions of faith. Pentecostalism has become the fastest growing form of Christianity in much of Africa, where the Spirit of Pentecost still thrives! (See this PEW study http://pewforum.org/surveys/pentecostal/africa/) Jerusalem functions to connect generations of believers from around the world—a living sign of the human quest for justice and comfort to the ends of the earth, and as such the mythic layer hovering everywhere here can’t be ignored by its inhabitants (even those of us who are quite transient!)
Catholic Latin and “Churches in Full Communion with Rome: “The Latin Church of Jerusalem is headed by a patriarch, assisted by three vicars (Nazareth, Amman and Cyprus).” There are about 20,000 Catholics in Israel and another 10,000 in the West Bank and Gaza—most of whom are Arabic-speaking. Before the Crusades, there was not a separate Patriarch for the Western Latin Church in Jerusalem. The Franciscan Friars have been instrumental in the history of the Catholic church in Jerusalem.
The local churches in Jerusalem in “full communion with Rome” include the Latin Church of Jerusalem, the Maronite Church, Greek Melkite Catholic Church, the Syrian Catholic Church, the Armenian Catholic Church, the Coptic Catholic Church, and the Chaldean Catholic Church. In 1994, the Vatican and the State of Israel established diplomatic relations. Pope John Paul II made some efforts during his papacy at securing access for Christians to some of the regional holy sites that were out of the custody of the Christian community. During our prayer for Christian unity, we attended services at the Latin Patriarch, Armenian Church of St. James, Cenacle, St. Anthony’s Coptic Church, and St. Mary’s Melkite Church.
Protestant Christianity in Israeli/Palestinian region dates from the early 19th century. Missionaries came to evangelize Muslim and Jewish believers, but “their main success was in attracting Arabic-speaking Orthodox Christians.” For a time the Lutherans and the Anglicans joined together and established a “bishopric” (they shared a bishop) in Jerusalem, lasting until 1886 when the two churches separated. The first Arab bishop was elected in 1976 to serve the Episcopal communities in Jerusalem and the Middle East. Today there is Lutheran, Baptist, Presbyterian, and Pentecostal presence in Jerusalem as well. During our week of prayer for Christian unity, we attended services at St. George’s Anglican Church and Lutheran Church of the Redeemer.
(Information taken from “Christian Communities in the Holy Land” published by the Israel Information Center, 1996)
Additional helpful on-line resources regarding Christian diversity in Israel/Palestine:
An inclusive, reflective guide to carry along on a trip to the Holy Land or simply to read along with me over the next weeks as I travel is the book Women of the Bible Lands: A Pilgrimage to Compassion and Wisdom by Martha Ann Kirk, professor of religious studies at the University of the Incarnate Word, San Antonio, TX.
Part II: Reflections on the Worship Experiences & Christian Unity
In her most recent book, Quest for the Living God: Mapping Frontiers in Theology of God by theologian and 2000 recipient of the Mount’s Elizabeth Seton Medal, Elizabeth Johnson writes:
People who belong to a religion are initiated into a particular living tradition of encounter with the Holy. Countless ancestors over the centuries, having experienced this awesome and attractive mystery in their own lives, translated their experience into particular texts, rituals, and practices that captured what they felt and knew to be true. By engaging in the life of the community, believers discover the sense of the Holy handed on by their forbears.” (9)
Johnson’ words, while not specifically intended for this purpose, are well suited to describe the phenomenon of Christian presence in Jerusalem. It is important to realize that a few stewards of Christianity, almost exclusively male clergy, have remained to preserve an unbroken chain of historical connection between their Churches and Jesus Christ. Each of the Christian churches emphasizes an aspect of Christ’s life that draws strength and wisdom from the integrity of the earliest insights about this Man of Galilee, who by any standards was a radical spiritual figure, conveying through compassionate action a message that continues with relevancy for believers and non-believers alike. Clerical presence seems to far outweigh that of the laity, and this is in part because the presence of Christianity in Jerusalem is primarily to preserve this connection to Jesus, ministering to many pilgrims but not necessarily being relied upon for the pastoral care and religious formation of vibrant, growing Christian communities.
On one evening, over the background of the Muslim “muezzin’s” call to prayer, the bells of the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer called the Christian community to prayer. On another evening, St. James Armenian Church welcomed us into the mysteriously darkened church. Four hundred hanging candles fueled by olive oil had been lit for the service. (Imagine that job—I’ve been trying to find out all week if the one responsible for lighting all 400 wicks did so as an honor or a punishment! To date, no one can answer the question—another indication that Armenian spirituality is one of great mystery!) A schola cantorum of local seminarians chanted almost the entire service a cappella. We were reminded that St. James the Greater’s head is buried under the main altar. St. James the Lesser is also reported to have found his way into “cryptic history” somewhere below the church. These sorts of “grab-your-attention tales” are abundant in the tourism literature!
Quite honestly, let me say up front, it is difficult to live in Jerusalem as an American Christian woman from the Western Roman (Latin) Catholic tradition. Having studied about this region for years, it was expected. The norms within Roman Catholicism are far more adaptable to local custom than we sometimes realize in our limited, local experience of “church.” This includes “adapting” as a way of orienting a local expression of the Church toward or away from the long tradition of patriarchy. Women are generally invisible in terms of liturgical roles and leadership within Christian communities here. I would say that the female organist at St. Mary’s Melkite Church was by far the most talented of the musicians we’ve experienced. So there is participation—and not a complete closing of the door. To this point in my time here, three women have served in the sanctuary: a Lutheran minister from the US who read the opening prayer at the third service for Christian unity; a young woman who welcomed us at the Cenacle, and a Catholic religious Sister who read the first reading at St. Mary’s Melkite Church. One’s consciousness begins to take refuge in the words from the ancient hymn found in Galatians: there is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.
The German heritage of the Lutheran community must be constantly kept in check in Israel. The Shoah (Jewish Holocaust) “might as well have happened a week ago.” The German Lutheran presence has helped to begin the healing process with regard to the overwhelming silence of Christianity during this horrific demonstration of genocide. Regarding the need to honor the integrity of every living human person to the fullest, it appears the Lutherans do attempt a more progressive and direct approach to sexism, no doubt largely due to the overwhelming attention given to ways of embedding freedom in all human relations.
So, it is important to acknowledge the reality for what it is. Many women have suffered from the oppressiveness of patriarchy that lurks within Christianity and this experience confirms for me that the psycho-spiritual healing of so many women in the world today depends on transforming this oppressive influence. It continues to be a bit ironic that Jesus invited women into full discipleship—and because of the relationship women have with the Risen Christ, women continue to respond with full hearts and wise minds!
Here I am reminded of “the Byzantine women in many places who have contributed to the rich collection of Orthodox hymns,” many which continue to be sung in Jerusalem churches. As researched and written about by Martha Ann Kirk,
Hymnody is a rich source for understanding theology and spirituality. In biblical times women were recognized as the singers of songs and ballads, both religious and secular… Documents speak of the mothers of the desert, the women forming monastic communities, and other ascetics spending large parts of their time singing the praises of God. (132-134)
And of course, Theodora is credited with having made every effort to preserve the tradition of iconography which is so central to the Christianity of Byzantium. Icons are strikingly visible in many of the churches we’ve visited. These are obvious and lasting contributions made by women, nurturing the prayer of the early Church, feeding the liturgical sensitivities of believers. Could it have been the disposition of the earliest disciples that prayer trumped doctrine in terms of the use of women’s energy and creativity? Was women’s leadership within the early Christian church in the practical day-to-day living out of Christian spiritual life not absolutely essential to early discipleship? (I am recalling women like Priscilla, the Mother of John Mark, Mary Magdalene, the women at the cross.) Perhaps doctrine and prayer have come to feel like competitive agencies for many Christians today—but there may have been a time when the urgency to domestically ground the worshipping community was the priority. Earliest disciples may have been more anxious to shape a prayer life together than produce a common creed (and this seems to be supported by Acts 2:42-47). I am especially inclined to believe this could be true since they believed Jesus’ return was immanent! Immediately following the resurrection, disciples rightfully remained quite close to the religious worldview that had nourished their understanding of who Jesus was. This included the Jewish practices which were primarily sustained through the “domestic church,” with the nuclear and extended family forming communities that gathered for meals and prayer throughout the day.
Following this confession of struggle, let me be quick to add that one of thee Christian sites that, surprisingly, brought me some comfort is the Dormitian Abbey built in 1900 to commemorate the place where Mary “fell asleep.” Theologically, of course, Mary has been a bit of a wedge in Christian relations. Particularly problematic has been the practice of devotional spirituality that in the experience of some seems to have elevated her beyond mere humanity. And was she “assumed” bodily into God’s embrace at the end of her life, as Catholicism holds? Sometimes Protestants have pointed out that “she is worshipped as the fourth member of the Trinity.” Mount students have pointed this out in class whenever inter-denominational issues are identified. The crypt beneath the Church is perhaps a good demonstration of how Christian theology can come to a common ground about Mary in a way that inspires all contemporary Christians. Here a sculpture of Mary has her in a “sleeping” pose… an obvious deep sleep that is quite ordinary for dead humans. The gentle corpse is approachable, reminding those who enter of all the fears, hopes, sufferings, letting-goes, and longings related to death and dying in the Christian journey. God has certainly embraced this sleeping “woman of the earth.” As a pastoral care theologian and minister, I found this to be a very welcoming place—a Hospice for Christian souls, so to speak, where we mere mortals can bring that which needs to die and place it in the care of a loving God who transforms all death to new life and wholeness.
From an ancient Syriac poem, we read God’s advice to Gabriel in advance of the angel’s visit to Mary:
Do not stand up to Mary or argue,
For she is stronger than you in argument.
Do not speak too many words to her,
For she is stronger than you in her replies.
If she starts to question you closely,
Disclose to her the mystery and then be off.
(There is an excellent article published in the December 21, 07 issue of Commonweal Magazine by Sally Cunneen about Mary as she emerges from Syrian poetry. This poem is taken from that article.)
Scripture reveals that Mary was not a woman of special power or authority. What has given her an extraordinary place in Christian history is that spiritually she remained quite awake throughout her earthy life—celebrating as any mother would the birth of her child, quietly raising Jesus and providing maternal nurturing without which he could not have been the courageous healing agent of God he became (see all of Luke’s gospel on this point!), enduring the anguish of the cross, and finally “letting go” of Jesus after Pentecost. Her years alone no doubt were years of dreaming—dreaming about how the future of the disciples might lead to a different world—a peace only God can give! Being spiritually awake for a whole lifetime must be intensely complicating in terms of emotions and psychic energy. Her inner-vision of God is completely opened to us in the Magnificat, a prayer we prayed several times this week in various Christian churches:
My soul glorifies God who has scattered the proud, brought down the mighty from their thrones, lifted up the lowly, filled the hungry with good things but sent the rich away empty, all because You God, are the fulfillment of mercy.” (Luke 1:46-56)
This brings me to a point in my commentary when I must talk a bit about the situation here in Israel and Palestine. I find myself contemplating the Magnificat with new eyes and ears. The news this week has been grim, as you know from the American press. The story has been in the paper of a young Palestinian boy in a Gaza hospital on a respirator. When the electricity was cut-off, his family members took turns breathing for him. This story is symbolic of the struggle here—many entities taking turns breathing life into the broken humans of this region. In many ways, it is another “hospice” image creeping into my psychic, Yet, there is a determination to survive and a hoped-for-future that apparently relies completely on the intersection of God’s mercy and human efforts to seek out justice at all costs. I can only influence the later—and to that end, will be participating in a series of dialogues at the Sabeel International Liberation Theology Center beginning this next week.
Religiously every appearance so far is that the people have worked out a way to live with one another. All one has to do is walk through the close “Quarters” of Old Jerusalem to realize that people can live quite amicably with religious differences in a very limited geography. Church, mosque, temple all function in the lives of the people. Worldviews are, in part, shaped by religious or a-religious values stemming from what functions. So, it would be true that I have not been here long enough to know anything of how religion really functions in the relationships of people. But, these streets of Jerusalem, bleeding through each other with signs of the past and the future everywhere, were eerily quiet at times this past week. What, if anything, is the silence trying to say?
Politically, the strangulating struggle for control of the region is so deep within the collective consciousness that it overwhelms every dimension of life. How can one be only ninety minutes from the Gaza region and not feel compelled to compassion? This is a complex situation. Several books have been helpful to me. Former secretary of state, Madeleine Albright’s, Mighty and the Almighty… is helpful in understanding some of the diplomatic issues involved with this part of the world. (I believe that Dr. Luckman, Religious Studies, was part of a study group that met with Madame Secretary Albright… she might be willing to share that experience if you are interested.) Jimmy Carter’s controversial book, Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid provides some helpful background information. A History of God by Karen Armstrong gives an impressive foundation to the emergence of monotheism and the struggles/opportunities inherent in theologically, socially, politically and religiously affiliating with a major theistic religious tradition. But the complexity of the issues here goes well beyond the scope of any one book. In the weeks ahead, I will be taking several seminar classes focused just on the current “troubles” of Israel and Palestine, and will blog about this learning.
For this week, the best I could offer the people of the Gaza was a prayerful pilgrimage to the Cenacle (from the Latin word cena meaning dinner), the place where Christians gather to remember the Last Supper and the Pentecost. It is believed that the original building itself survived the destruction of the Temple in 70 C.E., only to be demolished during the Crusades. A basilica was built where the building had been razed and has been in the custody of the Franciscan Friars, served as a mosque, and finally landed in the possession of the Israeli government.
At our Cenacle service, the presiding Monk proposed a more serious effort on the part of all Christians to accept the invitation to move inward, toward the indwelling energy of God alive in the human heart. He invited us to pray the Our Father in our native language—at least 10 languages could be heard just in the area where I was praying! Following the service, we were invited to go up to the room commemorating the Last Supper and the Pentecost. It is simple and ordinary—replicated in the architectural style prevalent in Jesus’ time—and there we prayed in little clusters of about 20 for the peace and unity of this world. Several gentle little cats made their way up the stairs with us… every kind of Christian community on earth represented… and a sense that humans are truly trying to find a way out of our darkness and imposed suffering.
Part III: A Brief, Poetic Reflection on Archaeology, Geography, and This Experience
During this past week, a course in Biblical archaeology and geography began. Since I have no photos as yet to share, I will end this week’s blog with the following poem, a different sort of image inspired by the first three week’s of life here:
soles on stone
soles,
slicking across
DNA-dusted pavement,
collecting evidence of “the others”
who picked up their mats and walked.
soles—
grinding along,
sometimes “heavy as weights,”
they say.
sometimes “lights as a feather,”
they say.
soles,
worked to the “Nth”
by stride and
pacing energies—
leather logarithms
of life’s longitudinal lunge
into consequential and
inconsequential
promises of arriving.
yet, the pavement goes on…
stone
beneath the soles
of the multitude’s shoes—
carved and settled;
random and stirring.
stone
beneath the soles—crooked, uneven
and logical.
layered and mortared with
stories embedded
for future sole’s touching.