Oct 31, 2008

Bishop Antonious Markos, An African evangelist

Bishop Antonious Markos, An African evangelist"There are many nations, and millions of souls across the universe, who live in spiritual famine: in the darkness of ignorance and paganism. If we embrace the evangelistic thought, we shall be able to reach the whole world and to look at all these people with eyes of love, concern and responsibility. We will be able to offer them all that was handed to us by our Lord Jesus Christ and his apostles, and share with them one communion"
Bishop Antonious Markos.


Prayer and the practice of medicine, time and chance have taken Bishop Antonious Markos El- Baramousy to the heart of the African continent. Four decades ago, Abuna Mikhail of Asmara welcomed him with these words: "Saint Mark is our father, and Alexandria is our mother." That was long before he was officially ordained Coptic Bishop for African Affairs.

If there is a surefire way to enthrall the masses it is to combine ritual with miracle, mass with social and community work. "My memory of preaching to the poor begins in the early fifties, when I was a boy of 15." This weekly ritual began with a short trip to some poverty-stricken village outside Cairo where he held a service for Coptic peasants. The first village he served was Abu-Za'bal Al-Balad, in the vicinity of what is today Cairo's northernmost suburb, Al-Marg. He discovered Christian peasants who had never been baptised. Others had not had Communion for years. Poverty, illiteracy and illness were the most prominent features in their lives. Their need was great, the resources at his disposal hopelessly meagre. The learning curve was steep but he quickly realised that negative thinking led only to bitterness, fatigue and frustration. The encounters in the village prepared him for Ethiopia, which in turn prepared him for Kenya and South Africa.

"Church is not just about rituals and prayer, it is a way of life, a unique sense of community," he stresses. Vocational training centres are established alongside the Coptic churches he has founded across Africa. "I long ago learned to adopt a holistic and humanist approach. When you preach to the dispossessed give them a fishing rod or trap. Teach them to fish. Don't give them fish," says the Bishop, striding toward his nonagenarian mother who is being helped to her seat by a nurse.

"She likes it here" in the old people's home in the Anba Barsoom Al-Aryan Monastery, Helwan. Spotless and spacious, it combines a school, training centre and hospital.

"We are building similar complexes across Africa," he tells me. "We need volunteers and adventurous professionals."

Wherever he goes in Africa he always appears to be coming home, waving at one parishioner, shooting a big smile at another.

The Coptic Church was a founding member of the All-Africa Council of Churches, a pan-African organisation that groups several churches. Bishop Markos was vice-president of the AACC for 11 years. The Coptic Church is also a member of the Geneva-based World Council of Churches (WCC) which brings together a large number of Christian Orthodox and Protestant churches. He has participated in several WCC meetings in which he met many African clergymen from a wide variety of Protestant churches. And to the African clergymen he would invariably claim that the Coptic Orthodox Church is the oldest church in Africa, founded in Alexandria by its first patriarch, Saint Mark.

Born in the Old Cairo district of Al-Malek Al- Saleh, the bishop's father was a clerk at the Ministry of Education. "My father was a poor but strong-willed and determined man. He made sure that all his children became university graduates, doctors, engineers, holders of PhDs."

"A loving family, a fulfilling career and charity. All these things are important but there is this other dimension. Because the world is a very precarious place you need a comforter, larger than life. So many people are living on the edge."

Bishop Antonious Markos maintains excellent working relationships with a wide variety of African churches -- mainstream Anglicans, Methodists and Roman Catholics as well as the more evangelical Pentecostalists, the indigenous African Zionist Christian churches of South Africa and the Kimbanguists of Central Africa.

Through a Swiss missionary friend, the Reverend Wilfried Flade, he was introduced to Joseph Diangienda Kuntima, spiritual head of the large and immensely influential Kimbanguist Church. The bishop soon received an invitation to visit the Kimbabguist Theological College in Kinshasa, the Congolese capital.

Today there are three Coptic churches in the Democratic Republic of Congo. "We respect the indigenous cultural traditions of the people. We accommodate indigenous custom except where it flagrantly contradicts the tenets of the church."

The bishop was instrumental in founding the Organisation of African Independent Churches in 1978, a grouping of indigenous African churches not affiliated to any European mother church. The Coptic Church was a founding member.

There are 12 Coptic churches in South Africa today. One is in the African township of Gugulethu on the outskirts of Cape Town, another in Soweto, the sprawling Johannesburg township and a city in its own right. "Every people's language is dear to them." In one South African Coptic Church, the priest is an ethnic Zulu, the liturgy is in Zulu and even the music is not Coptic. "The parishioners choose fast-paced tunes for their services. I do not object." The bishop smiles. "Outward appearances do not really matter. Substance is from within."

The bishop may be a man of religion but it is difficult to pigeon-hole him. He was the first Egyptian surgeon to practice in Ethiopia. His nickname, "Doctor Bishop", opened doors, endearing him to the poor, both confusing and amusing the powers that be. He initially had trouble convincing the Kenyan authorities that, even though he was a monk, he was applying to the Kenyan Ministry of Health for a licence to practice medicine.

He tends to answer questions about his experiences in Africa south of the Sahara by painstakingly working out both the year and his age at the time as if shuffling through mental index cards for an autobiography already in progress. He has, indeed, written several autobiographical works covering different periods of his African ministry in which he variously describes himself as doctor, deacon, monk or bishop to designate the different stages of his career.

The Coptic Church in Africa struggles against many odds, as no one knows better than Coptic Pope Shenouda III's special emissary in Africa and chief advisor on African affairs. Unlike the Church in North America and Australia, where wealthy Coptic communities sustain church coffers, the Coptic Church in Africa is poor. The bishop, moreover, does not want the activities of the Coptic Bishopric in Africa to be a drain on the church's resources though he is perfectly well aware that "a missionary without money is like a soldier without a gun."

Even before his ordination Bishop Antonious Markos was obsessed with working for the Coptic Church, and no more so than in Ethiopia. He left Egypt for Ethiopia in May 1966. His first posting was in Asmara, today the Eritrean capital but then a pretty provincial city. From Asmara he was transferred to Deber Berhan -- The Mountain of Light -- a remote and impoverished outpost. Conditions there were deplorable. The church was too small to accommodate the masses outside every Sunday morning. Sixty children showed up for the first Sunday School. The following Sunday the number jumped to 250 children. In subsequent weeks it multiplied -- 500 to 1,000 to 1,500. Services were in Coptic and not Ge'ez, the ancient liturgical tongue of the Ethiopian Church.

Perched high in the wild range it was wet and bitterly cold. Ethiopian doctors refused to work there, frightened off by rumours of the barbarous nature of the region's inhabitants. Bishop Markos's introduction to the youth of Ethiopia was through the Young Men's Christian Association (YMCA). Local YMCA leaders asked him to help in first aid training; in return he asked the youths to teach him Amharic. The Tigrinya he had learned in Asmara was incomprehensible in other parts of Ethiopia.

The bishop never had a family of his own but in Ethiopia he adopted the son of a poor Ethiopian priest, educated him and raised him as his own. Also in Ethiopia the bishop founded a welfare association and home for needy students.

Bishop Antonious Markos has the easy warmth of those born to minister. I first met him in Ghana in November 1977 when he was assessing the possibility of founding a Coptic church to serve the Egyptian Coptic and Ethiopian communities in Ghana. Sometimes his diligent efforts do not bear immediate fruit and to this day there is no Coptic church in Ghana, even though he did manage to establish churches in two of Ghana's immediate neighbours, Ivory Coast and Togo.

But Bishop Antonious Markos is patient and continues to work on founding a Coptic Church in Ghana.

Africans appear to be particularly impressed with the Coptic funeral service. "Someone once told me that, 'you pray for the departed as if he or she was a king or queen'." Prayers for the departed are in the local African languages which is very important. Indeed, many Africans become curious about the Coptic Church after witnessing a funeral service.

The Coptic Church sees itself as the Mother Church in Africa. And of all Africa's contemporary churches, the Ethiopian is the closest to the Coptic. "One faith and a 17-century spiritual bond," the bishop remarks. Tradition and the priesthood have linked the Coptic and Ethiopian Churches down the ages. The 20th century, however, witnessed a tragic break between the two. The bishop was in Ethiopia when talk of the severing of ties was first bandied.

The prospect grew out of a long-running grievance and the demise of the emperor only exacerbated matters. The Elders of the Ethiopian Church were yearning to cut the umbilical chord between the Egyptian and Ethiopian churches and it was eventually severed, though the final cut was largely at the hands of politicians rather than the clergy.

All the warning signals were there. The sudden deaths of first Abuna Basilious, the head of the Ethiopian Church, in 1969, and then of Egypt's Pope Kirollos in March 1970, presented an opportunity for radical change.

The Egyptian Church "received a surprise request" from the Ethiopian Church to consecrate the Ethiopian patriarch in May 1971 without waiting for the enthronement of the new Egyptian pope. More symbolically significant and without any historical precedent, the Ethiopians also requested that their patriarch's consecration take place in Ethiopia and not Egypt. "The Coptic Holy Synod decided to send a Coptic delegation to Addis Ababa to consecrate the new Ethiopian patriarch. The Egyptian delegation was led by the Metropolitan Antonius of Sohag, the acting patriarch while the throne of Saint Mark was vacant.

"After the end of the liturgy, we realised that all the films taken of the crowning of the Ethiopian patriarch had disappeared. The only pictures remaining were those of him adjusting the crown with the help of the Ethiopian bishop. And these appeared in the Ethiopian media with headlines like: 'For the first time the Ethiopian Orthodox Church crowned its patriarch with its own hands and in its own land and among its own people.' Tempers were running high," the bishop remembered.

The Ethiopian emperor was a conservative who loved Egypt and its Coptic Church. His name was ritually changed from Ras Tafari to Haile Sellasie, or The Power of the Trinity. The old emperor couldn't stop the call for change which was reaffirmed after his political demise. The Egyptian doctor in Ethiopia was at a loss. He refused to play the blame game. In the past the Ethiopian Church was a daughter of the Coptic Church, but now it is a sister church, he told himself.

The bishop cherishes the memory of the late Emperor Haile Sellasie. "His Imperial Majesty visited the sick and infirm in hospitals. He sat by their sickbeds, held the hands of his diseased and humble subjects. He was a kind man, a fatherly potentate who helped his people. He did not publicise his good works," the bishop assured me. "'Where is the Egyptian doctor who speaks Amharic,' inquired the emperor on one of his rounds." Thus began a special friendship between two devoutly religious men.

Tragedy struck on the first day of the Ethiopian New Year in September 1974 with the eruption of the Ethiopian Revolution. The Egyptian doctor had no idea trouble was brewing as Mengistu Halie Mariam was usurping power as the country's new strongman. The imperial bodyguard was disbanded, the vast imperial estates confiscated and the private imperial exchequer closed. Next the aged and ailing Haile Sellassie was deposed. A few months later the head of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church Patriarch Abouna Theophilos was disrobed. The Egyptian Church refused to recognise the new head of the Ethiopian Church. They were trying times.

The Egyptian medical practitioner loved the old Ethiopia but there was no place for him in the new. Ethiopia Tikdem, Ethiopia First, was the new slogan of the ruling military and revolutionary clique. The country was now officially atheist and the bishop soon received a surprise visit from a high-ranking officer who told him in no uncertain terms that proselytising was forbidden. Religion, he was told, was the root of backwardness. That was the last straw. He left Ethiopia for good in March 1975. He was to return for short visits again to the country he had come to love and Ethiopia was the springboard from which he explored other African countries.

After a brief spell at the family home in Faggala, Cairo, the doctor headed for a monastery and braced himself for monastic life. But he yearned to return to the social concerns of his earlier career. At heart he was a preacher, a prosyletiser, more so than a medical practitioner. But he had vowed to devote himself to monastic life on 22 February 1964. Now he was about to fulfil his promise.

On 29 July 1975 Pope Shenouda visited the Baramose Coptic Monastery, and the doctor was summoned and summarily informed that he would be consecrated as a novice at dawn. He spent a sleepless night in prayer and has never turned back.

Even so he could not resist the pull of Africa and barely six months later he was back. Accompanied by a young Kenyan, Joseph Omanyo, who had just completed his theological studies in Cairo, he left for Kenya on 11 January 1976. Armed with liturgical books, altar utensils and a few medical and surgical instruments he arrived in the Kenyan capital Nairobi.

Kenya was a world away from its northern neighbour Ethiopia. His first task was to master Kiswahili, the national language. The second was to cater to the needs of the Copts of Nairobi who wanted to have liturgy only once a fortnight because they were accustomed to head for the beautiful countryside surrounding the Kenyan capital on Sundays to picnic. Services were therefore held twice a month, and still the congregation arrived late -- "just before the end of the liturgy".

Life, at first, was difficult. He enrolled in a school of languages to study Kiswahili -- a Bantu language heavily influenced by Arabic. He had to speak the language of the people and within six months of intensive study he could communicate well with the locals.

Food and accommodation proved to be a less easily surmountable problem. Devout Copts fast for well over half of the year. During the fasts Copts do not consume meat, dairy or other animal products. At the Methodist Church's guest house, where he was initially lodged, the cooks refused to prepare vegetarian meals for him. Lent of 1976 became a most trying time.

In a separate incident the Archbishop of the African Independent Pentecostal Church in Kenya prohibited Bishop Antonious Markos from preaching the Coptic sermon. "Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you and say all kinds of evil against you falsely," the bishop says of the time. He knew he was in uncharted waters, but he pressed on. Trials and tribulations only strengthened his faith.

The full details of this glorious mission can be read in his books:
Come Across And Help Us Book 1
Come Across And Help Us Book 2
Come Across And Help Us Book 3
Theology of Mission Book 1

also, Bishopric of African Affairs
Copticafrica.org

Oct 17, 2008

Coptic Monasticism, by H.H. Pope Shenouda III

From Contemporary Coptic Icons
I want to tell you now about Coptic monasticism. Egypt is considered the motherland of monasticism. The first monk in the whole world was St. Anthony, a Copt from Upper Egypt. He was born in the year 251 and departed in the year 356; he lived 105 years. During this period he established monasticism and all the leaders of monasticism in the whole world were his disciples or the disciples of his disciples.

Also, the first abbot in the world who established monasteries was St. Bakhum (Pachomius), also a Copt from Upper Egypt. He lived in the fourth century and at the end of the third century. When we say that St. Anthony was born in the year 251, that he became a monk when he was about twenty years old or less, and then spent the first thirty years in complete solitude, that means monasticism began in Egypt at the end of the third century or the beginning of the fourth century -- more than sixteen centuries.

Monasticism began in Egypt as a life of complete solitude, a life of solitude and contemplation. No one of our monks in the fourth century or the fifth century served the church in the world. They wanted to forget the whole world and to be forgotten by the world and to have only our Lord God in their thinking, in their emotions, to fill all their hearts and all their lives.

So, when monasticism began it did not begin in monasteries, it began in caves scattered through the mountains, and holes in the ground, and some dwelling places. But afterwards, they began to build monasteries. Monasteries were built in the midst of the fourth century, or perhaps some years before. The monasteries of Upper Egypt, of St. Bakhum, had many monks living in them, living together a life called in the Greek language, "kenobium," which means "life together." And that was a characteristic of the monasteries of Upper Egypt of St. Bakhum and St. Shenouda.

But in Wadi Natrun, the monasteries had a special characteristic. The monasteries were built in the most ancient places and had churches and the refectory. The monks used to go to the church once every week on Saturday evening to have a kind of spiritual teaching by the elders, with any question or problem being said by the monks -- who were called brothers at that time -- with the answers being given by the elders. They used to celebrate the Holy Communion on Sunday morning and then eat together in the refectory; then each monk would leave the monastery to live his own life of solitude until the next week. That means they used to gather together only once, one day every week, and live the rest of their lives in complete solitude. Why? They wanted to purify their minds from anything of worldly thinking, not to think of the world any longer, not to have news from the world, not to have letters from the world, not to read newspapers, even not to receive visitors.

But at last, this light of monasticism could not be hidden. Many people came from abroad to hear a word of benefit from those monks and these monks, the Coptic monks, the Egyptian monks, did not write about themselves, but the visitors who came wrote about them. One of the most famous was the Lausiac History by Palladius. It was called Lausiac History because it was written to a certain noble man named Lausius. This Lausiac History was translated into the English language with the title of "Paradise of the Fathers." This "Paradise of the Fathers" was known in the Arabic language as "Bustan al-Ruhaban." Another famous work was that of Rufinus about the desert fathers; another was by John Cassian who published two books, one called the "Institutes" and the other called "Conferences." In his book, "Institutes," he had twelve chapters, the first four about the history of Coptic monasticism, the life of monks and their way of life, and the other eight chapters about spiritual warfares which may attack monks; for example, pride, vainglory, anger, and so on.

He said the traveler who passed from Alexandria to Luxor had, on all the journey, the sound of hymns in his ears from Alexandria to Luxor. That means all along the River Nile; but he was speaking about the western desert. In the eastern desert of the Nile Valley, we have two famous monasteries, the Monastery of St. Anthony and the Monastery of St. Paul the Hermit. Those hermits were also called, in monastic life, anchorites. Anchorites. In the Arabic language, they were called "as-Sawah." They always used to live in caves very far from any monastery. When we read the story by St. Paphnutius who wrote for us the history or life of Abba Nofer, it was a trip of nearly thirty days in what was called the "inner wilderness." They lived in a place quite unknown to anybody.

For example, St. Paul the hermit lived about eighty years in monasticism and did not see the face of any human being. Many other hermits -- for example St. Caras -- lived about 60 years in monasticism without seeing the face of any human being. They forgot all about the world, they had nothing in their memory about the world or its news. Their senses could not collect any worldly matter, they had only God and His Love in their memory, in their mind, in their hearts, and in their emotions. They could fulfill the biblical verse which was written in Deuteronomy 6, and also was said by our Lord Jesus Christ in Matthew 21, "to love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy mind, with all they soul, and with all thy power." How can a person give the whole of his mind to the Lord God? How? How to give the whole of your heart? We may love God through loving human beings, but those hermits, those anchorites, had only God in their minds. They could not think about any other matter.

Now, for example, when we speak to youth classes, we say to youth that bad thoughts are thoughts of any kind of sin; but for these monks, bad thoughts were thoughts of any matter besides God. For this reason, they were called "earthly angels," or "angelic human beings." They lived as angels on the earth, but as you know from biblical studies, we have two kinds of angels. (The first kind is) angels who live all their time praising God: for example, the seraphim. Those angels of the seraphim are mentioned only in Isaiah 6; they always were singing "agios, agios" or "holy, holy, holy" praising the Lord. But we have another kind of angel which was mentioned in the Epistle to the Hebrews, chapter 1, verse 14. They are ministering spirits sent to those who are called for salvation. We can call the pastors of the church, the ministers of the church, angels sent to the world to serve the world of salvation; for example, the pastors of the seven churches in Asia were also called angels -- the angel of Ephesus, the angel of Smyrna, the angel of Pergamos, and so on. But, the angels who devoted all their time praising the Lord as the seraphim were the symbol of holy life put in front of those monks.

St. Athanasius of Alexandria was chosen to be the 20th Pope of the See of St. Mark in the year 328 or 329, while he was only a deacon. At that time St. Anthony was living and was his spiritual father. But St. Anthony was not chosen to be the pope or patriarch; instead, they chose the deacon Athanasius. Through the flourishing era of monasticism of the fourth century, the fifth century, and the first half of the sixth century, they did not choose these monks to be bishops or patriarchs because those monks preferred to have a life of solitude, a life of prayer, a life of contemplation. They preferred to live with God, not with human beings. They preferred to be remembered only by God, not by human beings. Why? Because sometimes if they permitted visits they could lose their life of solitude and prayer, their prayers would be interrupted, and their meditation of God would be interrupted.

A story that was mentioned in the "Paradise of the Fathers" was that a certain monk was walking in the wilderness and two angels came beside him. He did not look to the right or to the left, but said, "I do not want even angels interrupting my meditation of God," remembering what was in the Epistle to the Romans, chapter 8 (verses 38 and 39).

At last, the Church was in need of those people and then bishops were taken from among monks of the deserts and then patriarchs and then the great need of the Church was for some of them to work as priests, as pastors. Then the life of complete solitude became a minority in our monasteries. . . . Remember two verses in the Bible; I do not know how you comment on these verses. The verse in St. Luke's gospel, chapter 18, verse 1 ("And he spake a parable unto them to this end, that men ought always to pray, and not to faint."), and also another verse, "Pray without ceasing," in the First Epistle to the Thessalonians, chapter 5, verse 17. Pray without ceasing, without interruption. How can we fulfill these verses?

We have to fulfill the symbol of Mary, not the symbol of Martha. The symbol of Martha is working for the service of God Himself; but for Mary, it is to be only looking at God, contemplation, prayer, to be at His own feet, listening to His words, and contemplating His words. So at least we should have a small number of these monks representing that life of the past and to be a blessing for the world and to bless the world. When our Lord God wanted to burn Sodom . . . He said even if I find only ten pure persons in the city, I will not burn the city. To have these persons only existing. He did not say if ten persons pray for this city -- only that if there are only ten persons I will not burn the city. Those monks were a kind of blessing to the world representing pure life, the purest life in the whole world, resembling persons who don't love anything in the world -- even themselves -- but only God to be kept in mind.

Now in Egypt we are trying to let monastic life return to many deserted monasteries. We had hundreds of monasteries in the past. We are now working in the White Monastery of St. Shenouda, in the Red Monastery in front of this white one, and in about four monasteries in the mountain of Akhmim, trying to send monks to this area to let monastic life return. . . . If you come (to visit our monasteries), you will be deeply welcomed and you will see something about the ancient monastic life and the expansion of monasticism today. I myself, in only the single monastery of Anba Bishoi, ordained about 150 monks, new monks. For this reason, we had to build many new cells in the monasteries to receive those new novices who want to prepare themselves for monasticism. Also, in every monastery now we have a retreat house for those youth who want to come to the monastery to spend some days of spiritual experience under spiritual guidance. Some of them like monastic life and become monks.

We have great work in Sunday schools. In Sunday schools we prepare the children from the very beginning of their lives to live a spiritual life, to live in the Lord, some of these children join the seminary, some become Sunday school teachers, and some of those Sunday school teachers join the seminary. And when they graduate from the university and the seminary and Sunday school, they go to the monasteries to become monks -- some of them -- and some of them become parish priests. So, through the revival of Sunday schools we prepare a great number of persons to be monks. To live a spiritual life for their own benefit is all right; if the church needs some of them to serve, that is all right.

We don't oblige any monk to lead a certain life. For he who wants to live in the monastery as part of the congregation, that is all right. If he wants to lead a life of solitude inside the monastery, that is all right. If he wants a cell of solitude outside the monastery or on the near hills, that will be all right. He who wants to live in a cave will have the permission to live in a cave. We have all kinds of monasticism.

I thank you for listening; I am sorry to use your time in such a long address.

A Transcript of a Speech of His Holiness Pope Shenouda III, Patriarch of Alexandria and the See of St. Mark. Delivered at the Opening of the Exhibit, "A Still, Small Voice: Sixteen Centuries of Egyptian Monasticism," at the Washington National Cathedral, March 15, 1992.

Coptic monasticism

Monasticism In Egypt

Oct 5, 2008

Mother Irini of St. Mercurius Convent; A Modern Desert Mother

on 31 Oct 2006, one of our church's bright lights faded from this earth. Mother Irini, mother of (St. Mercurius) Abu-Seifen Convent in Old Cairo, and known to many as Umina (Our Mother in Arabic) Irini or simply as Tamav ( our Mother in coptic), departed to the heavenly Jerusalem.

To tell the stories and miracles of Tamav's life would require endless pages of writing. In time, the blessings from this amazing woman's life will be made known to all. For now, let us remember her through the words of others:

Below is an excerpt from El Ahram Weekly, April 1999, which briefly discusses Tamav and shares some reflections that manifest her love, kindness and charity to others:

Mother Ireni, mother superior at the Abu Seifein Convent, is deeply involved in her effort to bring to light women's real contribution to monastic life in Egypt. Mother Ireni must be the one nun Coptic Christians today love the most; she is considered a living saint by the majority. While traditional accounts have consecrated St Paul of Thebes and St Anthony as the pioneers of monastic life and seclusion from the world, Mother Ireni insists that it was women who started this tradition, in the first century AD. Shortly after the resurrection of Christ, she believes, a group of women vowed to live a celibate life of prayer in a community at Mount Olive. They are supposed to have been in close contact with St Mary, the mother of Christ. Although this was the first of its kind, according to Mother Ireni, such communities of women proliferated and became commonly known as the "houses of virgins". In the centuries that followed, women also sought a solitary life in the desert as anchorites, but disguised themselves as men. Their real identity was only discovered after their death. Mother Ireni, however, emphasises that some of the anchorites who reached high levels of spirituality even had monks as disciples, "like Anisimone, the anchorite who taught many monks."

The first convent, where 400 nuns lived, followed the rule of St Pachomious. In the first centuries, there were also women's convents in Akhmim, Sohag, while another convent in Upper Egypt had more than 1,800 nuns within its walls. At one point, the number of nuns exceeded the number of monks; near Beni Suef, there were monastic communities where 10,000 monks and 20,000 nuns lived.

Mother Ireni, who hails from Upper Egypt, became head of the convent at the age of 16. She holds fast to the tradition of St Pachomious in the monastic way of life. In the second half of the fourth century, St Pachomious began a movement in which monks and nuns were organised in strictly regulated communities. In his monastery of Tabenna near the Nile, 7,000 men and women lived in congregations. Their garments included a tunic of linen, a cloak of goat or sheepskin, and a hood. They came to live within a walled enclosure, which included a church, refectory, dormitory, garden, and a separate lodging for visitors. St Pachomious's way of life has been instrumental in shaping the contemporary Catholic monastic movement. Mother Ireni insists on the importance of living in a community. "While it is up to each nun to decide on the level of austerity appropriate for her, our life is still essentially built on partnership and love."

Mother Ireni doesn't run a convent like a traditional mother superior -- she emphasises the importance of leading a community in a democratic way. "I don't like to point to the sisters' faults and shortcomings. Words of love and encouragement are more effective." Still, despite her non-confrontational, non-aggressive philosophy, Mother Ireni is anything but a submissive, introverted woman. She is reputed for being outspoken and for not budging once she has taken a stand. In the Coptic Church, only priests are allowed to anoint people with oil, but Mother Ireni is an exception. This right was given to her by former Pope Kyrollos, and she continues to exercise it as people flock to see her, ask for her prayers and request that she anoint them.

To all the questions about her philosophy and her community, she would state over and over again the importance of love.Was it all so simple for her?

'In a family, different people take on similar features and traits. It is like that when you live your life with God. You are influenced by those you spend the most time with. Peace, joy and love come from prayer with God. That's why our life here is a life of prayer.'


The obituary for Mother Irini appeared in Watani Magazine on November 6, 2006 (authored by Victor Salama and reprinted below):

Amid the bustle and jarring materialism of 21st century Egypt, a figure like that of Tamav (Coptic for Mother) Irene appeared to come from another world. Her mere presence exuded peace, happiness, modesty, profound faith, and a love that was deep enough to engulf the world at large. No matter that she had to endure repeated spells of illness— in many of them she almost looked death in the face —Tamav Irene's faith never faltered. She lived on to take tender care of her spiritual daughters, the nuns at the convent of Abu-Seifein (literally the One with the Two Swords, the name commonly given to St Mercurious) in Old Cairo till her death.

The Beginning

Christians see death as rebirth. And in the Coptic tradition, monks or nuns 'die' the day they renounce all worldly interests and take orders. The consecration ceremonial prayers include funereal prayers, and from then on a monk or nun is dedicated to a life of fellowship with the Lord and His saints. In this context, Tamav Irene's life began in the late 1940s in the convent of Abu-Seifein, with whom she is said to have enjoyed a unique fellowship. In 1954, the then father confessor of the nuns, Father Mina al-Baramousi — who in 1959 became Pope Kyrillos VI — told Mother Kyria, the mother superior of the convent, that Sister Irene would one day become mother of the Abu-Seifein nuns. Surprising as it seemed, since Sister Irene was the youngest and most recently consecrated of the nuns. The prophesy came true and, in 1962, Pope Kyrillos VI ordained her Mother or Tamav Irene.

Under Tamav Irene, the convent saw great spiritual revival. The number of nuns increased dramatically, the buildings were renovated and expanded, and two new churches were added. The present-day convent was established by Pope Kyrillos V in 1912 on relics of the dilapidated, original 11th-century one which had throughout the years undergone several changes. For many years it contained no church and the nuns used to partake of holy Communion in the adjacent fourth century Abu-Seifein church. A new Abu-Seifein convent was established in the1990s on the North Coast.

Rest In Peace

Earlier this month, the Coptic Church paid its last loving respects to its Tamav Irene. She had died at al-Hayat hospital in Heliopolis, Cairo. The nuns carried her body to the convent, performed the last rites, and laid her out in the top-floor church of Archangel Michael. They then moved her to Abu-Seifein's church downstairs where they sang Midnight Praise and held Holy Liturgy at dawn. In the morning, the convent opened its doors to the public, as thousands queued to pay their last respects.

On Thursday the coffin was moved to the wider church of the Holy Virgin. Again, Praise and Holy Liturgy was sung then, before noon, the funeral ritual for nuns began. Participating were Anba Rweiss, delegated by Pope Shenouda III who was in the U.S. recuperating after spinal surgery, as well as Coptic bishops and priests, mothers superior of Coptic convents, top officials and a large Coptic congregation. Once the prayers were over, the coffin lid was shut, and several of the clergy carried it out, across the garden and to its final place of rest near the baptismal font in the convent. The nuns followed in a procession, each carrying a lighted candle, to lay away a woman who had lived a life of light.

May her prayers be with us. Amen.

Refrence
A Modern Desert Mother
On the Departure of the Blessed Umina Irini, Mother of Saint Mercurius Convent in Old Cairo

Oct 2, 2008

Ragheb Moftah, A Musical Resurrection

What would have become of our church hymns had God not brought forth Ragheb in that generation?” said Pope Shenouda III in December of 1998...

The Feast of the Resurrection is the most glorious of Coptic feasts and the rites that celebrate Easter among the most ancient practices of the Coptic Orthodox Church.

Ragheb Moftah (b. 1898-d. 2001), who worked from the mid-1920s until his death preserving and documenting Coptic liturgical music, presented the Church with an anthology of pristine recordings of Coptic Orthodox liturgical hymns and chants. The chanters included cantors well known for their virtuosity in rendering Coptic chants. Moftah selected the most gifted deacons to join his choirs, and his collection of recordings includes chants rendered by Al-Mu'allim Mikhail Al-Batanouni, the first master cantor in the history of Coptic music to have his chants recorded. Moftah also recorded the chants of the next two generations of cantors and choirs.

Among Moftah's most important recordings are the hymns and chants for the celebration of the Great Lent, the Pascha or Holy Week, which celebrates the Passion of Christ, through the chants of Bright Saturday to the magnificent Resurrection chants. The recordings of Easter celebrations provide a spiritual and dramatic narrative of the mystery of the death and resurrection of Christ. The choirs render the Paschal celebration hymns with extreme solemnity. Their chants are rendered in an unadorned "a cappella" style. Their voices are deep, exultant and unsullied as they move through the sorrows of the Passion Week to the spirited tempo of Easter splendour.


No doubt Moftah will be remembered for his masterly recordings of these liturgies and chants, which he bequeathed to Copts and the world at large. But he will also be remembered as the old man in a black suit, wearing a black beret on his bald head, standing in the front row among the choir, his ears attentive to every melisma rendered by the master cantor and deacons as he conducted the Coptic Orthodox Easter celebration, and all other Coptic feasts and festivities, at St. Mark's Cathedral in Abbassiyya.

Moftah was born on 21 December 1898 at Al-Faggala in Cairo, the son of Habashi Moftah and Labiba Shalaby. In 1919, in preparation for his future as heir to agricultural land, Moftah went to Germany to study agriculture at the University of Bonn. After earning a bachelor's degree in agronomics he auditioned for the Music Department to study piano and music theory. Later, in 1924, he continued his musical education at the University of Munich.

Moftah was intrigued by the theories of those musicologists who believed the liturgical music of the Coptic Church was directly descended from ancient Egyptian music. He decided to research its origins and for years delved into the ancient Egyptian and Coptic manuscripts at the British Museum, the Bibliotheque Nationale de France and other archives and libraries in Europe, as well as, back in Egypt, the manuscripts at the Coptic and Egyptian museums in Cairo, at various monasteries and in the Patriarchal Libraries. The music of ancient Egypt had not been well researched but eventually Moftah found several pieces of evidence in Egyptian and Coptic manuscripts to support its links with Coptic liturgical music.

Although Moftah believed that the Coptic music evolved from Ancient Egypt, he was also aware of the influence of the Hebrew and Byzantine traditions. For example, the singing of Psalms is a Jewish practice. Later on, early Christian communities in Egypt adopted Greek antiphonal singing, and developed this practice to accommodate the needs of the early Christian communities in Egypt. Furthermore, the solemn ecstasy in the music of the Coptic Orthodox Church can trace its roots to the early days of Christian worship, during the Byzantine Empire of the Near East. But Moftah's overall contention was that the main influence on Coptic music was the music of pre-Christian times.

On several occasions Moftah recounted that events during the early 20th century, when the British alleged that they needed to protect the Christian minority, a pretext intended to justify their prolonged occupation of the country, acted as a goad for him to preserve the Coptic musical heritage. British evangelists and Protestant missionaries were particularly keen to convert Copts to Protestantism. Although fearing that the Coptic musical heritage would be compromised by the influence of modernity in general, Moftah's immediate incentive was the occupiers', and the Protestant missionaries', interference. The British missionaries, and Copts who had converted to Protestantism, described Coptic liturgical music as "decadent". Despite being apolitical, Moftah reacted vehemently to save the heritage: it was a decisive moment in his life and work.

In the early 1920s he launched his campaign to promote awareness of the value of the Coptic musical heritage. He approached many of his friends and colleagues -- among them Habib Gorgi, Archdeacon Habib Girgis and Aziz S Atiya -- to support his project to preserve liturgical music but they refused to collaborate with him, arguing he needed institutional support to carry out such a monumental task. But when they attempted to dissuade him from undertaking such a project alone he turned a deaf ear.

After extensive deliberation his family backed the project. Habashi Moftah, Ragheb's father, initially provided him with the financial support he needed, and later his siblings, nephews and nieces contributed. In the early 1920s Moftah travelled to England where he met Ernest Newlandsmith, a clergyman's son and a professor at the Royal Academy of Music in London. They shared a common interest in religious music. Moftah was intrigued by Newlandsmith's gift for music and recognised in him a superior talent. He proposed that Newlandsmith undertake the monumental task of transcribing the musical notation of Coptic Orthodox liturgical chants. They agreed to meet again in Cairo.

In 1926, when Newlandsmith passed through Cairo on his way to the Holy Land, Moftah arranged that he would stay in Cairo on his return journey and work on the transcriptions. Moftah paid Newlandsmith's expenses, including his travel and living costs, and purchased a grand piano. Staying on Moftah's houseboat moored on the Nile they worked together, and discussed extensively the origins of Coptic music, its structure and form of notation. It was a defining moment in the Coptic cultural renaissance.

Moftah worked with the most authoritative singers of his time, recording the entire corpus of Coptic liturgical music as sung by three generations of choirs and cantors. His intention was both to preserve the musical heritage and to make it available for study, research and critical analysis. His collection includes all Coptic liturgies and chants, and repeats of different versions by different chanters representing different periods of history. The process of selecting cantors was slow, arduous and careful, involving travels from the furthest reaches of Upper Egypt to the Mediterranean coastline. There were many Coptic singers in Egypt, and finally Moftah entered into an inspirational collaboration with the legendary Coptic master cantor, the blind Mikhail Girgis Al-Batanouni (b. 1873-d. 1957), chosen by Moftah and Newlandsmith for his rich baritone voice and accurate rendition of the liturgical chants. He was knowledgeable in Coptic Orthodox religious rites, in addition to being well versed in both the Coptic and Arabic languages.

From 1927 to 1936 Newlandsmith came to Cairo every winter to transcribe, spending time with Moftah listening to the cantors as they auditioned and discussing and analysing musical form and content. Newlandsmith's first project was to notate the Liturgy of St. Basil, which he did from live performances by Al-Batanouni, who sat in a corner on the floor, chanting tirelessly for the transcription. The legendary cantor shared Moftah's and Newlandsmith's perspective about the value of preserving Coptic musical heritage. In the early 1930s he was appointed the first instructor of hymns at the Coptic Orthodox Clerical College by Archdeacon Habib Girgis. He was the Archpsaltos of the Saint Mark's Cathedral in Al-Azbakkiyyah in Cairo. Later, in 1954, Moftah appointed him teacher of Coptic hymns and chants at the Higher Institute of Coptic Studies (HICS).

In those pre-tape-recording days Newlandsmith compiled some 16 folios of manuscripts which could be read by trained musicians anywhere. The Liturgy of St. Basil (used in the Coptic Orthodox Church throughout the year except during feasts) was followed by other liturgies and hymns, including the Liturgy of St. Gregory (used in the four major feasts of Nativity, Epiphany, Resurrection and Pentecost), and a number of special services including the ordination of popes, new priests, festivals, weddings and funerals.

In 1931 Moftah and Newlandsmith travelled to England to lecture on Coptic liturgical music at Oxford, Cambridge and London Universities. Their lectures drew the attention of a wide audience. Professor Griffith, the well- known Egyptologist, Professor Einstein and many others were intrigued by the new findings. Among several articles published at the time one, entitled "Western Music from Egypt: Its Origin in the Coptic Church -- Emotional Appeal", appeared in the Morning Post in May 1931. "Western music", said the article, "has its origin in ancient Egypt, according to Professor Ernest Newlandsmith, who has recently completed a three years' [period of] investigation in that country of the traditional music of the Coptic Church... 'The investigation,' he explained to a Morning Post representative yesterday, 'had its origin in the conviction of Mr. Ragheb Moftah, a distinguished Egyptian Effendi, that beneath the veneer of Arabic and Turkish influences there was much in Coptic music both of aesthetic merit and profound emotional appeal. This opinion, though I was many times inclined to doubt it, has been amply justified.'"

In 1932 Moftah was chosen by the Egyptian government to present Coptic music at the Arab Music Conference held in Cairo and sponsored by King Fuad. Bela Bartok, the composer and ethnomusicologist who attended the conference, was intrigued by Moftah's endeavours and promised to work with him but was unfortunately called away to a more urgent project in Turkey.

In 1940 Moftah formed the first Coptic Orthodox Choir, seeking out the most accomplished cantors and deacons as members. Moftah, who was known for his austerity and self-discipline, subjected the chanters to a rigorous training program before he recorded the chants. In 1945 he established two centres to teach Coptic chant melodies, one in Bab El-Hadid, the other in Old Cairo. He also ran summer camps in Alexandria for additional instruction, all by rote memorisation.

In 1954 Moftah was among the founders of the Higher Institute of Coptic Studies (HICS), and established the Music Division. He continued working on his recordings there, and eventually completed the recording of the entire corpus of Coptic Orthodox liturgical chants and hymns. He was also responsible for training cantors at the HICS, and students at the Coptic Clerical College.

Moftah also made recordings of a second generation of cantors -- including Fahim Girgis Rizk (b. 1910-d. 1999), Sadiq Attallah (b. 1918-d. 2001) and Farag Abdel-Messih (b. 1921-d. 2000) -- mentored by the master cantor Al-Batanouni, as well as of the third generation. Indeed, his recordings of Al-Batanouni and the second generation of cantors effectively established the canon of Coptic Orthodox liturgical music.

In 1970 Moftah commissioned Margit Toth to transcribe the notation of the Coptic Orthodox Liturgy of St Basil that he had collected and recorded as orally transmitted chants from authoritative cantors. Cantor Sadiq Attallah chanted the sacred celebration of the Holy Liturgy in its entirety, including all the roles assigned to the priest, the deacon, and the choir of deacons. This collaborative work was published by the American University in Cairo Press in 1998. It contains the full text of the liturgy in Coptic and Arabic, together with an English translation.

With Pope Shenouda III's support and blessings, a number of archives preserving Ragheb Moftah's collections of recordings, documents, writings and letters were established. These include the Ragheb Moftah Collection at the Library of Congress, a collection at the American University in Cairo Library, as well as a collection at the HICS. It is hoped that the latter, which contains some 470 reels of recordings in rapidly deteriorating condition, as well as several unpublished texts, receives the attention and preservation efforts it deserves.

In 2005, four years after Moftah's death, Marian Robertson- Wilson, an eminent musicologist and Coptologist, completed her cataloguing of the Ragheb Moftah Collection of Audio Recordings of the master cantor Al-Batanouni, which she had started at the Library of Congress in 1992 when Moftah was alive. With the help of the recording engineer Kenny Hodges, Wilson has put the music and guide in a usable format. The finished product consists of 21 CDs, and The Revised Guide to the Ragheb Moftah Collection of Coptic Chant Recordings contains Wilson's transcription of the texts into Coptic, transliterations into Latin script, and translations into English. Hodges removed all extraneous surface noise, producing the purest sound possible.

Terence Duquesne, scholar of Egyptology and Comparative Religion, stated in an article on Ragheb Moftah's legacy that appeared in Discussions in Egyptology (vol. 47, 2000), that Moftah's work will be of "interest to Egyptologists, Coptologists, historians of religion, ethnomusicologists, and spiritually engaged people both within and without the monotheistic tradition."

written by Laurence Moftah -Ragheb Moftah's niece- a librarian emerita and consultant, Coptic studies collection development, American University in Cairo.

A Musical Resurrection
Ragheb Moftah
Ragheb Moftah's Collection
Higher Institute of Coptic Studies, Liturgy of St. Basil in Coptic
Preserving Pharos Psalms

The British Orthodox Church and Bridges Building

On Saturday, July 9, 1977, at a Quaker meeting house in the South-East of London, a new bishop was ordained for a small, autocephalous Orthodox Church. It was not an event to which, in the Orthodox world at large, any attention was paid. The church concerned, although founded some one hundred and ten years previously, was not in communion with any of the historic Patriarchates and, indeed, had been subjected to considerable criticism from representatives of some of these Patriarchates for its very existence. It had struggled throughout its history to maintain anything more than a fragmentary presence in the British Isles; its congregations were small, and its clergy, however faithful they may have been to the mission of trying to bring Orthodoxy to the British Isles, were essentially little known outside their own community. Various efforts to expand the evangelical work of the Church had been thwarted by lack of resources and by a surprising level of hostility from authorities of the Anglican Church.

It may therefore have been anticipated that the ordination of the new Bishop in 1977 would mark little more than another minor event in an otherwise unremarkable history - a history which, but for the assiduous attention of a small number of critics, would have been almost entirely unknown to the outside world. This was, however, not to be the case. The new Bishop was a man of considerable scholarship and extraordinary commitment to the original mission of the Church, and his ordination marked the beginning of a period in which he would take the Church out of its years in the Wilderness and into communion with one of the most ancient Apostolic Sees, and transform it from an obscure and isolated group, into a body acquiring an international reputation for leadership in the presentation of Orthodoxy in the English-speaking world.

Monday July 9th, 1997, marked the twentieth anniversary of the ordination as Bishop of His Grace Metropolitan Seraphim of Glastonbury. At the time of his ordination, His Grace was deeply involved in research into attempts to establish a Western Orthodoxy. A series of articles by him, under the title Ex Oriente Lux, was being published in The Glastonbury Bulletin, and described the unsuccessful efforts of Dr Joseph Overbeck (1820-1905) and Father Stephen Hatherly (1827-1905), two Western converts to Orthodoxy, who sought to pass on the Faith which they had discovered to others in Western Europe. The Bulletin containing the first of these papers also quoted from Leo Zander, Professor of Theology at S. Sergius' Seminary in Paris, writing in the 1950's. Professor Zander, commenting on the problems faced by Westerners who converted to Orthodoxy: "...contrary to their hopes, they come up against the traditionalist attitude of men who quite sincerely ask themselves: 'What do these foreigners want ? If they wish to become Orthodox, let them accept Orthodoxy with all its historical and national implications.' This means that the would-be convert to Orthodoxy is faced with the prospect of having to become Greek, Russian, Rumanian .... If Orthodoxy in the west has not yet found its own forms of piety and theology, the very existence of its champions and the fight they are putting up is a pledge and even a prologue of the future. In the words of the poet, they are, as it were, 'the precursors come too early of a spring that comes too late'. You can only fight for something. The goal for which the converts strive is not only their personal dream. Their task is also an objective one: namely to free Orthodoxy from the historical and national provincialism that weighs it down."

For the newly ordained Bishop Seraphim, however much he may have felt himself to be a precursor come too early, the struggle to establish an Orthodoxy unburdened by unnecessary nationalism, ethnic culture or the perception of being foreign, was neither new nor easy. His research, whether into Overbeck and Hatherly, or the founding Bishop of British Orthodoxy, Jules Ferrette (Mar Julius, 1828-1904), could only have revealed to him a history of valiant efforts and either conspicuous failures, or inconspicuous and barely surviving partial successes. But he must have seen in his ordination at least a measure of Divine Providence; he had never sought ordination as Priest, let alone as a Bishop, and had come to Orthodoxy unexpectedly, unintentionally and cautiously.

William Henry Hugo Newman-Norton, who was to become Metropolitan Seraphim, was born in South-East London on February 27, 1948, the second son of a policeman who died when he was four years old. After attending a local preparatory and grammar school, he completed teacher training at St Luke's College, Exeter. He grew up in a moderately Anglican family and, although generally interested in religion, he did not begin to develop a sense of strong religious devotion until, at the age of sixteen, he met Metropolitan Georgius (1905-1979), head of the British Orthodox at that time, and first cousin to Abba Seraphim's mother. Although when they met in May, 1964, Metropolitan Georgius was fifty-nine and the future Abba Seraphim only sixteen, there was an immediate bond between them. Mar Georgius had, at that time, been head of the Church for over twenty years: he ultimately served as head of the Church from 1944-1979. Originally established by a missionary Bishop sent from the Syrian Orthodox Church in 1866, its history up to Abba Seraphim's involvement had been one of precarious development. Early loss of contact with the Syrian Church at a time when communications between western Europe and the Middle-East were extremely difficult, and a later repudiation of the mission by the Syrians, encouraged by officials of the Anglican Church, left the small mission isolated. Anglican hostility and Orthodox indifference, together with a lack of resources, meant that the Church was barely able to begin the missionary endeavour for which it had originally been established: to restore the indigenous Orthodoxy of the British Isles.

Mar Georgius, although endeavouring to advance the work of the Church and to unite various groups which sought Orthodox alternatives to Anglicanism or Roman Catholicism, was essentially a visionary and a scholar, rather than a practical administrator or evangelist. He had a somewhat naive trust in those who approached him, and often left himself open to exploitation by men seeking the appearance, rather than the reality, of Orthodoxy. It was almost as if he believed that the truth of Orthodoxy was so self-evident and profound that anyone being exposed to it would not only accept it and be converted, but undergo an inner conversion of life as well. The simple-hearted charity with which he received potential converts often led to the pain of betrayal.

After almost a year of study with Mar Georgius, during which time he was meticulous in reading all that he could of Orthodox doctrine and liturgy, the future Abba Seraphim asked to be received into the Church; this took place on April 23, 1965. He had no thoughts of ordination but, to enable him to assist Mar Georgius during the Liturgy, he received the first of the Minor Orders on December 26, 1965, and began to play an increasing role as the Metropolitan's personal assistant and, later, Secretary. As a result, to enable him to work more closely with his Bishop, Abba Seraphim returned to London to complete his studies at Avery Hill College.

His return to London, and the resulting closer contact with Metropolitan Georgius, fostered Abba Seraphim's interest in the early history of the British Orthodox mission. He regularly spent days at the British Library and the Public Record Office, and discovered many hitherto unpublished manuscripts which revealed that the claims of the first Bishop, Jules Ferrette, could be substantiated from independent sources, and the subsequent Syrian repudiation to have been based essentially on the malign influence of an eminent Anglican. The results of this research were published as Julius, Bishop of Iona (Glastonbury, 1971).

Abba Seraphim's research, no less than his work in the Church, motivated him to encourage renewed attempts to bring the British Orthodox Church back into communion with mainstream Orthodoxy, and this remained a theme in his Church life, culminating in the union between the British Orthodox Church and the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate in 1994. However, he did not accept any claim that the British Orthodox Church, however technically irregular its position might appear be in terms of Orthodox canon law, was other than a valid, and Divinely inspired, attempt to restore Orthodoxy to the British Isles.

Metropolitan Georgius was concerned that his familial relationship and deep personal affection for his young cousin should not allow him to hasten his advancement in the Church. Abba Seraphim was ordained to the full Diaconate on August 27, 1967, and served for three and a half years as a Deacon. It was, indeed, to the Diaconate that Abba Seraphim felt particularly called and in which he felt his vocation lay. During this period he also sought to expand his knowledge of Orthodoxy, and attended services at a range of Orthodox churches, as well as continuing and expanding his studies.

It often seemed to him that it would have been easier, and personally more satisfying, to abandon the tiny, struggling British Church and become part of one of the great Orthodox communities. On one occasion, feeling that this was the best path to follow, he was deterred by the counsel of a senior Orthodox monk who reminded him that the British Church was to serve as a bridge between the increasingly secularised religious communities of the west and Orthodoxy, and that it was in building this bridge that his true ministry was to be undertaken.

Therefore, Abba Seraphim continued in his efforts to encourage an increasing stability and effectiveness in British Orthodoxy, and to make every endeavour to restore it to communion with one of the great Apostolic Patriarchates. To this end, he accompanied Metropolitan Georgius on a visit to Paris in 1969 for discussions with Bishop Jean Kovalevsky of the French Orthodox Church, then engaged in discussions with the Romanian Patriarchate. The experience of French Orthodoxy strengthened Abba Seraphim's resolve to hold fast to an Orthodoxy that was living, contemporary and relevant to the culture within which it was found. Bishop Jean invited Abba Seraphim to administer the chalice during the Holy Week Liturgy, demonstrating his own rejection of a narrow Orthodox legalism. Sadly, Bishop Jean died unexpectedly the following year.

Abba Seraphim rejected any notion that, because it was largely despised and rejected by mainstream Orthodoxy, the British Church should not hold fast to the Orthodox Tradition, should not clearly state its position and respond to its critics, and should not follow a traditional model of establishing local parishes. He initiated a revival in Church publications, and began producing The Glastonbury Bulletin which, with its emphasis on sound research and good scholarship, quickly attracted a readership far beyond the Church. He initiated and maintained, often in the face of criticism and even ridicule from some in other Orthodox Churches, communication and, often, effective working relationships with Orthodox priests and bishops. He equally persuaded Metropolitan Georgius to undertake reforms of the Church structure to simplify it and base it around local, living congregations.

In the midst of all this activity, Abba Seraphim was ordained to the Priesthood in February, 1971, and in the years that followed took an increasing role of leadership in the Church as Metropolitan Georgius' health deteriorated. After his ordination as a Bishop in July, 1977, Abba Seraphim was essentially responsible for the day-to-day administration of the Church. Metropolitan Georgius had written, after the ordination: I can now feel assured that, if and when I am called hence, the Church will be left in safe hands. Abba Seraphim succeeded as Metropolitan of Glastonbury immediately on Mar Georgius' death on February 28, 1979.

Abba Seraphim had long sought to regularise the position of the British Orthodox Church. This had not been his concern simply in the hope of silencing the critics of the Church. He had made it clear throughout his ministry that, while he was ever ready to respond to misrepresentations of the Church's situation, he regarded canonicity for its own sake as of very limited importance. His major study, Root and Branch. The Canonicity and Regularity of The Orthodox Church of the British Isles (Glastonbury, 1991)1, concluded: We do not seek to work alone or in opposition to our Eastern Orthodox brethren, especially those of British origin who have united themselves to the ancient Eastern Patriarchates, but we seek some sure sign from their hierarchs of a commitment to the same spirit of pastoral concern and urgent evangelism towards the peoples of these islands which inspires our mission. When they can say, like St Gregory of Nazianzus: 'We are seeking not victory, but the return of our brothers, separation from which is tormenting us", then may we not be wanting an equally loving response. An eagerness to share in the Orthodox mission in the British Isles was a continuing characteristic of Abba Seraphim's ministry, just as was a refusal to compromise the need for a genuinely British Orthodoxy.

Abba Seraphim had concluded that canonical Orthodoxy, for all its criticism of the British Church, had been entirely unwilling to incorporate it in such a way as to allow it to fulfil its mission or undertake its work of proclaiming the Orthodox Faith to the non-Orthodox of the British Isles. The British Orthodox Church could easily have become canonical had it agreed to surrender its mission, give up the very reason for its existence, and be absorbed into the essentially foreign Orthodoxy of one of the Byzantine Churches. But Abba Seraphim held firm to the original mission of the Church: the restoration of Orthodoxy to the indigenous inhabitants of the British Isles. The concept of restoration has always been of vital importance to him. It was, and is, almost inevitably forgotten that the British Isles were originally Orthodox. Both Roman Catholicism (following the Great Schism of 1054) and Anglicanism (following the separation from Rome initiated by King Henry VIII in the sixteenth century) came well after centuries of fidelity to Orthodoxy from its establishment in Britain early in the Christian era.

Thus Abba Seraphim has never sought to bring a new, foreign faith to his country, be it from Constantinople or Moscow, any more than from Rome, but to restore the essentially British Orthodoxy which was here in the beginning. Of course, this has never meant for him the fabrication of some sort of spurious "Celtic Orthodoxy", based upon little more than fantasies about what the early Celtic Christians believed and practised. Although intensely interested in the earliest history of Christianity in the British Isles, Abba Seraphim's commitment to sound scholarship has made him careful to avoid the imaginative reconstruction of the past, even when this may have great romantic appeal. He has undertaken research on the Celtic Church over many years, and recognizes just how little factual knowledge there is on which to base any attempt at reconstruction. But this does not detract from his enthusiasm to learn more of what is and can be known. In mid-1997, accompanied by Father Gregory Tillett, Abba Seraphim undertook an extensive tour of Ireland, visiting the ancient holy places and the sites of churches and monasteries.

If restoration is an important concept to Abba Seraphim, so is evangelism to the indigenous inhabitants of the British Isles. This has been a further motivation to avoid being absorbed into an essentially foreign Orthodoxy. If Orthodoxy is to be proclaimed in the British Isles, Abba Seraphim believes, it must be proclaimed in a language and culture that is essentially relevant and meaningful to the inhabitants of the British Isles.

So, however much Abba Seraphim desired a reunion of the British Orthodox Church with an Apostolic See, he was never prepared to give up the essential mission of the Church. Approaches to a number of Orthodox communions were met with indifference. But, in 1993, Abba Seraphim began discussions with the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate of Alexandria, and he led a delegation of Church representatives to Cairo in February, 1994. Interestingly, in his approach to the Coptic Patriarchate, Abba Seraphim was following in the footsteps of an earlier British Orthodox Bishop: in June, 1936, Mar Frederic (Frederic Harrington, 1890-1942) had written to the Coptic Patriarch of Alexandria seeking to initiate discussions regarding the possibility of a union of the British Orthodox Church with the Patriarchate. His Holiness' Private Secretary replied on October 23 acknowledging Mar Frederic's letter pleading for His Holiness' spiritual guidance and advice, and promising further correspondence. However, no further correspondence followed. Research by Abba Seraphim led to the discovery that a leading clergyman of the Anglican Church had urged that no relationship be established with the British Church. More than half a century later, the situation was very different.

After years of disappointment in the responses to his approaches to Orthodox hierarchs, Abba Seraphim was delighted by the openness of the Copts, and their commitment to evangelism. Equally, if not more surprising was the immediate acceptance by His Holiness Pope Shenouda III that, if the British Orthodox Church was to become part of the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate, it must maintain its original mission, and maintain its distinct British identity. His Holiness was not at all interested in statistics and finances, matters which in the past had often appeared to be the primary consideration for other Orthodox officials who showed little interest in discussions with a small, and far from wealthy, Church. His Holiness was solely interested in the Orthodox Faith: having determined that the British Orthodox Church held firmly to the Orthodox Faith, he sought to welcome it into communion with the great and ancient See of Alexandria, generously inviting the British Church to "come home".

Having received such a positive response from His Holiness, Abba Seraphim returned to consult with the clergy and people of his Church. At an assembly held in London on March 19, 1994, unanimous support was given for Abba Seraphim to proceed towards full union with the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate. He thus returned to Cairo at the beginning of April for further discussions, and during a further visit at the end of May that year the final text of a Protocol determining the relationship between the British Orthodox Church and the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate was agreed. The Protocol can be seen as a re-statement of the original mission of the Church: The British Orthodox Church of the British Isles is a local church, holding to the historic faith and order of the Apostolic Church, committed to the restoration of Orthodoxy among the indigenous population and desiring to provide a powerful witness to the Orthodox Faith and Tradition in an increasingly secular society.

Although His Holiness had determined that re-ordination of the British clergy was not necessary, Abba Seraphim had made it clear that the union with the Patriarchate of Alexandria was of such importance in the history of the British Orthodox Church that he would have agreed to be received by Baptism if necessary, and would have accepted the status of a Priest if that was required. Happily, it was not, and Abba Seraphim was incorporated into the Patriarchate by anointing with Holy Myron, administered by His Holiness Pope Shenouda III at the Papal Residence at the monastery of Anba Bishoy in the Wadi El-Natrun on June 4, 1994. Immediately thereafter, Abba Seraphim accompanied His Holiness to the nearby Syrian Monastery where he was admitted as a monk. His original monastic profession, made in 1977, was accepted, and he was simply received into membership of the El-Sourian monastery. When asked to which monastery he wished to be attached, Abba Seraphim had suggested the Syrian because the original mission of the British Church had come from Syria.

Abba Seraphim visited Egypt again in June. The Holy Synod of the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate met on June 18 to confirm the Protocol defining the incorporation of the British Orthodox Church into the Patriarchate, and to confirm Abba Seraphim's election as Metropolitan. The following morning, Pentecost Sunday, he was ordained as Metropolitan by His Holiness Pope Shenouda III, assisted by some sixty Bishops and Metropolitans, in St Mark's Cathedral, Cairo.

As he stood amongst his brother Metropolitans and Bishops, in the presence of the Patriarch of Alexandria in the great Cathedral in Cairo that Pentecost morning, Abba Seraphim had every reason to feel that he had faithfully fulfilled the commission he had received from his predecessor, and from those who had headed the British Orthodox Church in earlier generations. He had led the Church back into communion with one of the great Oriental Orthodox Churches. As its representative, he was now a member of the Holy Synod of the Patriarchate of Alexandria. The future of the British Orthodox Church, often so precarious throughout the past one hundred and fifty years, was now carefully assured and protected. The isolation and lack of support which had characterised the tiny British mission since its inception was now overcome.

However, it could not be taken as a time of complacency. Abba Seraphim immediately began work to ensure that clergy and laity alike were made familiar with the Coptic Tradition. He applied his considerable liturgical knowledge to the development of a text of the Liturgy of St James as a replacement for the older, more cumbersome Glastonbury Rite; in determining a Liturgy for the British Church in the new stage of its development, Abba Seraphim chose a text which was neither eastern nor western, but Apostolic, and translated it into a style of English which was at once dignified and solemn, as well as effective in communicating with the modern world.

There were, of course, critics in the Orthodox world who complained about the union of the British Orthodox Church with the Patriarchate of Alexandria; their essential theme appeared to suggest that Orthodoxy ought to be an exclusive club from which those not born to the Faith, or converted to it through the most laborious process, should be excluded. Resurrecting ancient theological controversies - which the world leaders of Orthodoxy have been busy endeavouring to resolve - they seemed particularly resentful of anyone seeking to proclaim the Orthodox Faith in English to the modern world.

Sadly, it was not only from outside the British Orthodox Church that critics emerged. Throughout his time as head of the Church, Abba Seraphim had sought to revitalise its sense of mission and to make its administration more efficient. After the union with Alexandria, he was insistent that closer conformity with the spiritual tradition of the Patriarchate be adopted. This did not mean conformity to the external forms of Coptic Orthodoxy (which would have undermined the very purpose of the Church), but with the spirit of the Alexandrian tradition. There were those within the Church who, finding the appearances of the Coptic Tradition very appealing, nevertheless resented the essential discipline its inner sense required. They complained of what they called "Copticization", but lacked the commitment to try to understand the richness and spirituality of the ancient Coptic Tradition. Having enthusiastically supported Abba Seraphim's work in guiding the Church into union with the Patriarchate of Alexandria, they now attacked him for implementing the logical and necessary consequences of that union. Not satisfied with disagreeing with his policy, some engaged in campaigns of personal vilification of him.

Without doubt the cost of leading his Church back into the communion of Oriental Orthodoxy has been high for Abba Seraphim. His understanding of the origins and history of British Orthodoxy enabled him to see the direction in which the Church needed to go. Those with lesser knowledge and more limited vision neither understood the past nor had a clear vision of the future. As was the experience of the early Church, those who desired to shape the Faith for their personal ends, eventually separated from Orthodoxy to satisfy their private fantasies of what Orthodoxy ought to be, not understanding that it is the individual who needs to conform to the discipline of the Faith, not the Faith to the taste of the individual.

Some looked back with misguided nostalgia for what they believed had been "the good old days" of British Orthodoxy, when it was autocephalous and independent. Insofar as this presupposed a lack of discipline and orthodoxy, it was a time that had never been. Abba Seraphim's willingness to set aside all his personal and ecclesiastical status in submitting to the See of Alexandria gave a clear indication of what he expected from both clergy and laity. His concern was, as he expected theirs to be, not about me and mine but about us and ours. It was therefore a time in which wheat and chaff necessarily separated. But it was also a time of revitalisation in which what had in fact been the stagnation of the "good old days" was replaced by new life: new, committed, hard-working people have come increasingly to be attracted to the Church. Others, already converted to forms of ethnic Orthodoxy, have seen in the example of the British Orthodox Church a better model than has previously existed for the propagation of Orthodoxy in the west, and upon the often-overlooked foundations of the mission which began in 1866, Abba Seraphim has begun to build a substantial work, labouring cautiously and diligently to ensure that the edifice is both sound and secure.

Part of his work has been the encouragement of ecumenism between churches of the Orthodox Tradition. Abba Seraphim quickly established very friendly relationships not only with Bishops and Priests from within the Coptic Orthodox Church, but also from the other Oriental Orthodox Churches. And while some who had been enthusiastic in its criticism of the British Orthodox Church for not being in communion with an historic Patriarchate now voiced criticism of union with an Oriental Patriarchate, many other now felt comfortable in developing more positive relationships with the British Orthodox Church. Indeed, Abba Seraphim's new position as a part of the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate led to a dramatic increase of demands upon him as churches and church organisations discovered the remarkable writing, teaching and speaking abilities of the Metropolitan.

Interest in The Glastonbury Bulletin also increased, and leading members of the Coptic Orthodox Church throughout the English-speaking world were attracted by its high standards of scholarship and English language, no less than by the breadth of subjects it covered. Abba Seraphim determined to expand the role of the Bulletin, declaring: Although it will continue as the mouthpiece for the British Orthodox Church and in full loyalty to the traditions and teachings of the Coptic Patriarchate, it will also endeavour to be Pan-Orthodox and eirenic in its outlook and evangelistic and pastoral in outreach. He sought to make the Bulletin a means of communicating between Orthodox jurisdiction, of promoting the important work of inter-Orthodox dialogue and of a sound, well-informed English-speaking and western approach to Orthodoxy.

Abba Seraphim has made regular visits to Egypt since Pentecost, 1994, taking his responsibilities as a member of the Holy Synod very seriously, and ensuring that the British Orthodox Church not only maintains effective communication with the Patriarchate and with the Coptic Orthodox Church, but that, wherever possible, it contributes to the Patriarchate and the Church. He is regularly asked by Bishops of the Coptic Orthodox Church for advice and guidance, particularly in regard to the work of the church in the lands of immigration.

He has not only visited Coptic Orthodox Churches throughout the British Isles, but also in Italy and Germany, and undertook an extended visit to Australia in August, 1995. The presence in Australia of a native born English-speaking, British, convert Metropolitan of the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate was seen as providing a powerful witness for Orthodoxy not only amongst the non-Orthodox, but equally amongst young Copts who, having grown up to identify themselves as Australians, often feel that Orthodox is essentially an ethnic or foreign faith. The enthusiasm of young Copts in Australia for "the British Metropolitan" (as he is always described) was extraordinary, and requests for further and longer visits have been repeated time and time again. After discussions with Abba Seraphim, His Holiness Pope Shenouda III authorised two of the clergy of the British Orthodox Church, Father Gregory Tillett and Deacon Brendan French, to serve the Coptic Orthodox Church in Australia, establishing a visible ministry of co-operation between the British and the Coptic Orthodox Churches.

Abba Seraphim has been active in encouraging support for ecumenical dialogue. He is a member of the council of the Society of St John Chrysostom, an ecumenical society committed to the study of Eastern Christendom. On July 23, 1996, he met with His Eminence Archbishop Gregorios of Thyateira, head of the Greek Orthodox Church in Great Britain to discuss future co-operation and the need for more regular meetings between Eastern and Oriental Orthodox hierarchs, and the desirability of closer relations between the two families of Orthodox at local level. Abba Seraphim has participated in services at the Eritrean Orthodox Church in London, and of the Malankara Orthodox Syrian Church, and visited Istanbul as the guest of the Armenian Orthodox Patriarchate. He has also maintained close relations with clergy and laity seeking an understanding of Orthodoxy while members of other churches, thereby endeavouring to maintain a quiet, but effective, evangelical witness.

It has been said (with the saying attributed to various authorities) that those who do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it. As a scholar of history, of the history of Orthodoxy in the west and of the British Orthodox Church in particular, Abba Seraphim has been uncompromising in his efforts to ensure that the lessons which should have been learned from the history both of attempts to establish Orthodoxy in the west and of the development of small, autocephalous Orthodox churches are applied to ensure that the British Orthodox Church under his leadership moves forward, rather than round in circles.

On the second day of June, 1866, in Emesa, in what is now Syria, a bishop for ordained for what was to be a new Orthodox mission. It was not an event to which, in the Orthodox world at large, any attention was paid and, indeed, in later years there were many who denied that the ordination had ever happened. As Abba Seraphim's research has disclosed, both in Julius. Bishop of Iona (1971) and in the later article "New Light on Ferrette's Consecration"2, the matter must surely now be beyond dispute: the British Consul at Damascus at the time (and who witnessed the signature of the ordaining bishop, Peter the Humble, later succeeding to the Patriarchate as Ignatius Peter III) wrote to the Foreign Office in London, in response to enquiries from the (Anglican) Archbishop of York, stating that he knew both the new Bishop and his ordaining Bishop well, and confirming that he had notarised the signatures on the document attesting the event. On his arrival in the British Isles in August, 1866, Bishop Julius perhaps expected an enthusiastic reception and the opportunity to evangelise; he found a little curiosity, and a great deal of hostility, as he sought to return both laity and clergy to the point in time before the divisions of Christendom came about.

The ministry of Mar Julius, Bishop of Iona, was not in any sense immediately successful. He wrote of himself a few years before his death: My failure was that of Moses. That was thirty years ago. When forty years have passed, possibly some Joshua may be raised to take up my work. As for me I imagine that I am fated to remain....a forerunner. [Quoted in Abba Seraphim's Julius, Bishop of Iona, 1971, p. 47] It might indeed be argued that not only Mar Julius, but those who succeeded him in keeping alight, if at times but weakly, the flame of the British Orthodox Church for the century that followed, were essentially forerunners. They were faithful men, but poorly equipped to do more than maintain what they had received. It cannot be too extravagant to view Abba Seraphim as the Joshua to whom Mar Julius referred, coming not forty years but some one hundred and ten years after the episcopal ordination of his predecessor.

That which began as a vision for Mar Julius has now begun to become a reality in the British Orthodox Church: an Orthodoxy faithful to Tradition but transcending any particular traditions, an Orthodoxy meaningful for the West but preserving the rich spirituality of the East, an Orthodoxy which is distinctively British but is capable of drawing into it the full splendour of all Orthodoxy from wherever it should come. Mar Julius began a new work, and Abba Seraphim has begun a new phase of that work. His vision, his energy and his devotion to the work of the Church will be appropriately remembered with thanksgiving on the twentieth anniversary of his ordination as a Bishop, and the hymns of Axios! be equalled only by those of Unto many years!

by Father Gregory Tillett

References
http://www.britishorthodox.org
Metropolitan Seraphim of Glastonbury