Don’t Discount the Ways

A beautiful and well-known poem of Elizabeth Barrett Browning begins with, “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.”
   This could be a good description of the so many varieties of religious experiences, allegiances, and practices that we seem to have now and to have had forever!
   For example, we speak of Judaism and Christianity, but each includes many and differing doctrines and practices, both now-a-days and centuries before!
   Actually, Christianity itself—in all its varieties—is rooted in Judaism. Although it seems hard to recognize now, early Christianity was a variant among other versions of ancient Judaism. Contemporary Judaism itself still has different varieties, both from centuries long ago and also relatively modern times!
   Today we may speak about Orthodox, Liberal, and Reformed Jews (to name a few major varieties) and Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant Christians (to name a few major varieties).
   At the time of Jesus, the major varieties of Judaism were Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes (besides, of course, the Messianic Jews who were the followers of Jesus).
   Pharisees were the remote ancestors of the Rabbinic Judaism that we know today. The New Testament refers to them often, usually as critics of the teachings of Jesus—although many Pharisees became his followers (e.g., St. Paul the Apostle).
   The Pharisees were active from the middle of the second century BC until the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD. They were defenders of the laws and traditions of the Jewish people and had their backing.
   On the other hand, the Sadducees, during that same period, were associated more with the maintenance of the Temple, its priesthood, and its rituals. They were an elite group of priests.

   We know less about the Essenes than the Pharisees and the Sadducees. In modern times we’ve learned about them through archeological discoveries (e.g., Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls).
   The Essenes led a strict, communal life, similar to what we know about early Eastern Christian desert monasticism. Some suggest that John the Baptist may have been an Essene at first or have been influenced by them.
   In spite of the so many disagreements about what and how to believe and live that have characterized different religious sects and factions over the centuries, the important thing is to remember that there is only one and the same God.
   That means that in spite of internal divisions in and among, for example, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, we are all believers in the one and the same God, although we have deeply rooted practices and beliefs—even rules and regulations—that differ about how best to serve him.
   It doesn’t mean that we should pretend that we don’t have differences or try to “homogenize” our customs, rules, regulations, rituals, prayers, and practices—actually we should celebrate them and profit by them as best we can.
   The great “No, no!” in all this is the “I’m right, you’re wrong” mentality. There is not a one and only way to live a good and holy life.
   When it comes to religion, to knowing, loving, and serving God, we could all profit by remembering and adopting what Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote:
   “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.”


 30 July 2023

Dayzziness

The number of days in a week has not always been the same. The Roman Empire, for example, used to have an eight-day week which gradually became a seven-day week during the first, second, and third Christian centuries. (As the empire gradually became more Christian, it adopted a seven-day week like the Hebrew calendar.)
   The names we use for the weekdays are derived from a variety of traditions.
   For example, the first day of the week has been known for centuries in English as the day of the Sun (following the ancient Roman tradition), although now, in contemporary Romance languages, it’s known as the day of the Lord (e.g. in Spanish, Domingo).
   (Also, in English we often refer to Sunday as the Lord’s Day, a familiar religious custom since Biblical times).
   The second day of the week is known in English as the day of the Moon. (It’s similar in other languages, too. The Latin word for moon is Luna, from which we derive, e.g., Lunes in Spanish.)
   The Roman Empire continued following this Greco-Roman tradition of naming the days of the week after planetary spheres (which were named after pagan gods). The third day of the week was named after Mars, the fourth, after Mercury (Hermes), the fifth, after Jove (Jupiter), the sixth after Venus (Aphrodite), and the seventh after Saturn (Kronos).
   Romance languages generally follow the Roman way of naming the days. Further north in Europe the Norse or Germanic tribes had different divinities and used different names for the days.
   English follows the Germanic usage for the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth weekdays which were named after Tiw (Tuesday), Woden (Wednesday), Thor (Thursday), and Frige (Friday).
   Our names for the days of the week have complicated roots!

   I guess a practical question today about all this is, “So, what?” If you like studying about where words came from and what they originally meant, it may be interesting—otherwise, probably not!
   In Abrahamic religions, the seventh day (Sabbath) is when God rested after six days of creation. It’s also the day of the week commanded by God to be observed as a holy day, a day of rest. Religious Jews strictly observe this.
   Christians, on the other hand, began to celebrate the first day of the week as their holy day, the day of the resurrection of Jesus from the dead.
   Curiously our modern “Weekend” celebrates the seventh and first days of the week together as days of rest and recreation, regardless of whether or not one day or the other or both are considered holy!
   Of course, way back when each day of the week was associated with a different divinity, a different god, (which varied from country to country and region from region) you might say that every day was in some way a holy day!
   In fact, something like the ancient custom of assigning the days of the week to a remembrance of a particular divinity still exists in that we designate the days of the year for the remembrance of special deeds of God or of the lives of certain holy people (saints).
   This is a huge difference in our religious beliefs and practices in that we believe in only one God whom we celebrate in different ways on different days in addition to celebrating the huge number of outstanding and faithful servants he has had over the centuries.


16 July 2023

Either-Or-ers vs. Both-And-ers

What’s an “either-or-er”? The odd title suggests a keen awareness of differences, an inclination to focus on the incompatible aspects of things, perhaps a tendency to be judgmental, a likelihood to position everyone and everything on a scale of individual values.
   What’s a “both-and-er”? This odd title suggests a greater awareness of commonalities, an inclination to focus on the compatible aspects of things, a tendency to be inclusive, a likelihood to position everyone and everything within a pool of similar values.
   Here are a few examples:
   – in medical practice, a highly competent cardiology specialist may know little about infectious diseases and barely recognize them, while maybe a general practitioner would;
   – in baseball, an overall good team player may be more highly valued than an occasional heavy hitter.
   – in politics, a leader of a party who can effectively communicate and collaborate with a leader of another party is often more effective than an esteemed and perhaps popular individual who cannot.
   Historically, sometimes people who are initially more “either-or” may gradually tend to become more “both-and”.
   People initially thought of as primarily one or the other, this or that (i.e., totally different), gradually can come to be seen as having a lot of commonalities, one with the other.
   The opposite is also true: someone at first attracted by commonalties may end up increasingly focused on differences.
   Changing attitudes and understandings can also be seen in religious matters, too. Many religious groups that once had been decidedly divided one from the other and separated are gradually finding common ground.

For example:
   – Judaism originally (in the early Biblical times) was perhaps more unified and less diverse than it is today. But, even so, today, in spite of a wide variety of points of view and religious practices, all their adherents still consider themselves Jewish.
   – Christianity started as a branch of traditional Jewish religion, but after a while both Jews and Christians became more focused on their differences than their commonalities.
   – Christians themselves once had such low tolerance for differences that Christian groups with different practices came to be regarded as separate (and antagonistic) churches that were often denounced by the other. (The modern ecumenical movement is trying gradually to reverse that.)
   In our days, there are three great monotheistic religious groups—Jews, Christians, and Muslims. Each of them worships the one (and necessarily the same) God, in spite of their difference in their holy books, history, and practices.
   Something similar could be observed about other aspects of our modern society. Almost all religious, political, and social groups, in spite of their differences in practices, values, and mutual esteem, tend to share more and more what once were the separate history and values of each.
   Every person has personal dignity, unique values, and can make unique contributions. In spite of all the problems in our modern world, happily we’re gradually, slowly but surely, seeing more both-and-ers (and fewer either-or-ers)!
   At the risk of being a little chauvinistic, don’t forget, “E pluribus unum!”

28 May 2023

The Great King Over All Gods

For the Lord is the great God,
   the great king over all gods,
Whose hand holds the depths of the earth;
   who owns the tops of the mountains.
The sea and dry land belong to God,
   who made them, formed them by hand. (Psalm 95:3-5)

Once people generally believed in many gods, some greater and more powerful than others.
   The Jewish scriptures (“Old Testament”) tell of a gradual process, a growing realization, a kind of discovery, that the god of Abraham and his descendants is the supreme god, greater than all the others, and ultimately that there are no others.
   This means, for instance, that all the branches of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, no matter what their differences, are all worshiping the one and the same God.
   Accordingly, this implies that although Jews, Christians, and Muslims have many differences, they should fundamentally be one—i.e. they should treat one another as fellow believers.
   By extension, if there is only one God, this further implies that the same should apply to all other religious believers, no matter what their customs or beliefs.
   And, if there is only one creator, this still further implies that the same should apply to everyone, no matter whether they have religious beliefs or affiliations or not.
   A threat to all of this is giving exaggerated importance to structures of difference.
   For example, Hagia Sophia, the great church, then mosque, now museum in Istanbul: Why must it be one or the other? Why can’t it be a shared place for different styles of worship, reflecting its long history?
   Must strictly orthodox Jews, Christians, or Muslims—or followers of other religions—pray separately from less orthodox Jews, Christians, or Muslims?

   Another, parochial example: When Cardinal Francis Spellman was Archbishop of New York, he had to respond to a massive immigration of Puerto Ricans and, later, other Latin Americans to the archdiocese.
   Historically separate churches were built for each national/ethnic/linguistic group. He decided that the same church building should accommodate people of different customs and language and that the priests should know or learn the customs and language of the parishioners.
   Our contemporary society seems to place an exaggerated importance on differences and institutionalizing them. If you like chocolate and I like strawberry, we don’t have to go to separate ice-cream stores.
   Restaurants, stores, schools, churches, neighborhoods, apartment houses, police forces, political parties, nations, and every kind of structure or organization need to be aware of differences and respect them—but not institutionalize and segregate them.
   The 1964 New York World’s Fair had a great exhibit that taught this, “It’s a Small World”; it’s still seen in Disney parks. You ride through scenes of different parts of the world, where animated dolls dressed in different, traditional clothes, sing, and even dance, to the same song. Then the same dolls are shown all mixed together, dressed in their different traditional clothing, but singing together the same song.
   It was a fundamental lesson about life. Of course there are differences! You and I and everyone else—we’re all ultimately different from one another, each one of us unique, but we are all creations of the same God.
   You’re not a polytheist! No matter what, don’t be afraid to sing the same song!




8 May 2022

Superus, Superior, Supremus

Positive: superus -a -um, situated above, upper, higher.
Comparative: superior -ius, of place: higher, upper; of time: earlier, former, past: of rank: higher, greater.
Superlative: supremus -a -um, of place: highest, uppermost; of time or succession: last, final: of degree: highest, greatest; of rank: highest.

   As you can see from the Latin above, the similar words in English haven’t changed in meaning very much over the centuries. For instance, supreme is defined as:
   – highest in rank or authority; paramount; sovereign; chief.
   – of the highest quality, degree, character, importance, etc.
   – greatest, utmost, or extreme.
   – last or final; ultimate.
   Although sometimes we over-use the word or its derivatives, we’re always ranking things, places, ideas, values, scores, athletes, office-holders, and whatnot. But, no matter what we’re ranking, you can’t have more than one supreme at a time!
   Sometimes we speak of God as the Supreme Being. That sort of presumes that on a scale or ranking of gods or divinities, there’s one on top!
   Actually, in ancient times it was common among many peoples and in many places to worship multiple gods or divinities and to rank them. For example, for the Romans, the highest ranking, most powerful god was Jupiter. (That why the biggest planet in our solar system was named after him!)
   When you study the Bible, you learn of the gradual development of monotheism—the realization that there is only one god.
   Abraham and his immediate descendants worshiped and obeyed a god they thought of as their personal or family or tribal god. He was theirs and guided and protected them.

   It was a long, slow development to arrive at the belief or realization that there is only one God and that no other gods exist at all.
   Even so, still among monotheistic believers there are some lingering, sort of polytheistic attitudes.
   For example, Jews, Christians, and Muslims all believe that there is only one God, the Supreme Being—and there can’t be three different Supreme Beings.
   So, if all three are worshiping the one God, they are worshiping the same God.
   If good Jews, Christians, and Muslims aspire to live on with God someday, they will be living together. If their destiny is to be living together, why have they treated each other so badly so often?
   They are fellow creations of the one and same God, even though they may use different names for God, worship God in different ways, and have different customs.
   And, of course, there are other religions and other ways of worshiping the one and same God, and the same applies to them.
   We shouldn’t disparage worshiping the one and same God in different places or using different languages and practices.
   We shouldn’t consider people who misunderstand or betray the teachings of the one and same God as though they were the truest and best exponents of the one God’s values and teachings.
   We shouldn’t keep fighting over possession and control of parts of the one world, if we truly believe that the one and same God made it to be shared by all.
   Above all, we should treat every other person as a brother or sister, created by the one and same God to live with us in the one and same world.


13 February 2022

Getting in Touch with God

For millennia, god-seekers would go to special places better to communicate with a particular god. Often they would go to a special building dedicated or consecrated to the worship or service of the god.
   It was not only dedicated to the particular god but also was considered the principal place for the public and private worship of that god in the neighborhood, town, province, or country.
   It was often referred to as the house of the god, as though the god lived in that place—or at least that a believer could especially get in touch with the god there.
   And, there was a tendency to presume that if the special building, the temple, was bigger and more beautiful than most others, access to the god would be easier and better.
   According to the Bible, a god got in touch with Abraham, and Abraham dutifully did what the god asked of him. His immediate descendants worshiped that same god as their family god, known first as the God of Abraham, then the God of Abraham and Isaac, then the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel.
   Moses encountered this god of the Israelites, first in the experience of the burning bush and then later on the mountain. This god of their ancestors made a covenant with them to be their god and they, in turn, to be his people.
   He promised to lead them through Sinai to a promised land of plenty and instructed them how to worship him.
   At first it was on the mountain, then later where the ark, the portable precious container for the stone tablets of the covenant, was kept.
   Hundreds of years later, the Israelites now living in the promised land, it fell to Solomon to build a temple to house the ark, the privileged place of communication with their god, and to provide a place for sacrificial worship of him.

   Although one of the commands of the covenant was not to have any other gods before the God of Israel, many years later prophets began to teach that not only should the Israelites not worship any other god but also that no other god really exists!
   That temple of Solomon, destroyed, then later rebuilt, and still later expanded, was finally and definitively destroyed by the Romans.
   The faithful descendants of the early Israelites, then known as Jews, never had a temple again—but they assembled for learning and praying in local buildings, called synagogues, thereafter.
   The early Jesus-followers, initially Jews all, followed this same tradition, assembling for learning and praying, for “the breaking of the bread,” in local gathering places, later known as churches.
   Hundreds of years later, when Christianity was established as the official religion of the Roman Empire, churches began to be considered more like temples, in the sense of a special building for worshiping a god.
   For us, is a church the only place to get in touch with God? No, the church is a special, assembly place, but individual worshipers can get in touch with God anywhere his presence can be discerned or manifested.
   Since the one God is the creator of all things and people, that actually means everywhere, in everything, and through everyone. God can be found and seen in all his works, in all the wonder of his creations and creatures.
   It’s challenging to realize that everyone and anyone, no matter how unlikely they may seem, may manifest something of God to us and that we may be able to get in touch with God through them.


19 December 2021

Caught in the Middle – Homeland Isn’t Always Home

The Middle East is the homeland of Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Jews feel at home in one part of it. Muslims feel at home in most of it. Increasingly, Christians do not feel at home at all.

Once and Former Lords

Recently, the Israeli newspaper Haaretz published a story, “The Absentee From 6 Molcho Street,” an interview with Claudette Habesch, Secretary General of Caritas Jerusalem. She reminisced about the house where she was born and spent her childhood, which is now occupied by an elderly Jewish lady. Mrs. Habesch’s family was caught away from Jerusalem during the first Arab-Israeli war. After the cessation of hostilities, she and her family were never allowed to return to their home.
Most Middle East Christians understand her feelings. They recall with pride and nostalgia that once most of the lands of the Middle East were Christian. They also recall their influence, role and wealth — which was often disproportionate to their numbers.
After Christianity became the religion of the Roman Empire 17 centuries ago, the lands we now know as Turkey, Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Iraq, Cyprus, Israel, Palestine and Jordan were filled with churches, monasteries and shrines. These dynamic centers of Christian life and thought were organized into the four great patriarchates of Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch and Jerusalem.
As the Arab followers of the Prophet Muhammad conquered and occupied the lands once under Rome, Christians gradually became the minority — though a very important and influential minority — in what became an overwhelmingly Islamic Middle East.

Foreigners in Their Own Land

Christians, though second-class citizens in Islamic societies, were esteemed as “People of the Book” and, for the most part, learned to live with their Muslim overlords and neighbors.
The Crusades changed that. For the first time, in the name of God, Christian militias from the West invaded the heartland of the Middle East, seeking to reclaim it from Islam. Though sometimes harassed and victimized by the Crusaders, local Christians were nevertheless associated with the invaders — because of their shared Christian faith — by the Muslim community. Consequently, they were perceived as allies of the enemy.
In later centuries, Middle East Christians looked increasingly to the West, confiding in Western powers to protect them and emulating many of the West’s ways.
In modern times, Middle East Christians often traveled to the West, sent their children to schools there, adopted Western styles of dress and customs, and even studied and spoke Western European languages in preference to their native ones.
Their links to the West aggravated their position during the 20th century. With the post-World War I dismemberment of the Ottoman Empire by the victorious Western powers, the United Nations partition of Mandate Palestine, and the invasions of Iraq, extremist Muslim political movements have become increasingly more hostile to the West — and that hostility has been increasingly directed at their Christian Middle Eastern confreres.

Confusing Religion with Nationality

From ancient times, religion — in the sense of the assemblage of ceremonies, customs and rites of worship with its ministers and teachers — was regulated by the ruler or governing authority.
Jesus’ instruction to his disciples to “repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God” planted a seed of challenge to this social understanding of religion. However, it is only in relatively recent times that this seed has flowered into new values such as separation of church and state and freedom of conscience, worship and religion.
Not surprisingly, through much of the world and almost the entire Middle East, ethnic and national identities have been linked to religion, and ethnic and national rivalries and hostilities are inappropriately labeled as religious.
In varying degrees, almost all countries of the Middle East are culturally and religiously Islamic, ranging from the militantly secular Turkey to the militantly religious Saudi Arabia.
The modern State of Israel is religiously and culturally Jewish, but internally divided by a similar wide range of religious understanding and practice.
Most of the island of Cyprus is thoroughly Greek Orthodox, while Lebanon represents an anomaly in the Arab cultural world with its carefully delineated sharing of power among Christians, Sunnis, Shiites and Druze.
Middle East Christians now live in an overwhelmingly Judeo-Islamic world. Their continuing challenge is to find ways to integrate themselves and their faith more fully into the majority cultures of Middle East societies and to “de-Westernize” their religious customs and practices, yet in complete fidelity to their identity as disciples and followers of Jesus.

Finding Common Ground

In October 2007, 138 distinguished academics, jurists and religious teachers from the worldwide Muslim community addressed an open letter to Pope Benedict XVI and other Christian leaders concerning the common ground between Christianity and Islam. The document, with its quranic exegesis, identified love of the one God and love of neighbor as common and core values for Islam, Christianity and Judaism.
This bold initiative prescinded from emphasizing national and cultural differences, plunging directly into the great common core of faith and belief among the children of Abraham.
Often, this is precisely what does not happen in the Middle East. Local Christians, Muslims and Jews tend to be imprisoned by their respective historical memories and traditions. They constantly call attention to their differences and distinctiveness. They radically misunderstand each other’s religious language.
For example, there are verses in the Quran that deny Jesus as the Son of God, seemingly misconstruing Christian belief. Yet, Muslims venerate Jesus as son of Mary and make no reference to a human father — which is a departure from typical Islamic culture, which is decidedly paternal. Muslims and Christians touch on the same incomprehensible mystery of Jesus’ origin and paternity, but with mutually unintelligible ways of speaking about it.
An earlier Islamic call for finding common ground came from the late Sheikh Ahmed Kuftaro, Grand Mufti of Syria, who at the end of the 20th century called upon the followers of the great messengers of heaven, Moses, Jesus and Muhammad, to be in solidarity in confronting the urgent problems and moral issues of today’s world.
Another challenge for Jews, Christians and Muslims, all of whom seek to follow the will of the one and the same God and aspire to be in his presence forever (which implies being together forever), is to begin to collaborate in realizing this great goal of solidarity now.
These inclusive understandings of faith among the children of Abraham pose radical challenges to the exclusive understanding of faith that is characteristic of traditional Middle East societies — especially theocratic Muslim societies, the relatively theocratic Jewish society of Israel, and local Christian communities.
The concept and value of a religiously pluralistic society is of relatively recent experience in the West and is still new to most traditionally Christian Western countries as well.

Defending the Faith

After the fall of the Iron Curtain more than 20 years ago, the churches of Eastern Europe reconnected with the rest of the world, but were handicapped by a defensive mentality and a dated ecclesiology.
Historically, the churches of the Middle East also have been defensive, confronting the social pressures of a dominant Islamic culture, resisting the political pressures of increasingly more militant Muslim movements, and seeking to safeguard their ancient rights and privileges.
The Middle East’s Orthodox churches are even more vulnerable to political pressures than its Catholic churches, since their origins as state and national churches make them traditionally subordinate to the political governing authority. Catholics, to the contrary, have more independence from civil control, fruit of the long history and experience of the Western churches and their international dimension.
The role of the Maronite Church in Lebanon — especially its patriarch — is unique among the Middle East’s churches.
Because of this tangled web of culture, ethnicity, nationality and religion, over the years Middle East churches have been more focused on maintaining their unique, separate identities and safeguarding their institutions than on developing a mature, personal faith understanding and commitment among their members.
Far too many Middle East Christians still consider themselves more as members of a tribe or social group bound together by distinctive customs and traditions than as members of a band of disciples guided by the spirit of Jesus.
Also, a missionary and evangelizing dimension of Christian life in the Middle East is necessarily very underdeveloped because of the constraints placed upon all the churches and their members by the political societies in which they live.
The painful past and present experiences of Middle East Christians have shaped their responses to persecution and discrimination. The forced displacement of Armenians, Chaldeans and Greeks, the death of some 1.5 million Christians between 1915 and 1923, and the chaos and random violence of Iraq have often led to a “circling the wagons.”
Lebanon was created by the French to be a Christian enclave; the call for a Christian homeland in Kurdistan is an echo of a similar mentality, paradoxically not unlike the rationale for the State of Israel.
Historically, separation has not proven to be an adequate methodology to ensure the survival of Middle East Christians — or, for that matter, to resolve the vexing and persistent political problems of the region.

The Churches in Their Diversity

The homelands of Christianity have an incredible diversity of ecclesiastical jurisdictions, rites and customs, most dating from ancient times when all the lands were Christian.
Consequently the Middle East has an overabundance of hierarchs compared to most of the Christian world, but relatively few priests and religious and increasingly fewer faithful.
For example, the (Latin Catholic) archbishop of Cologne, Germany, shepherds more than 2.1 million faithful; the (Melkite Greek Catholic) archbishop of Lattaqiya, Syria, tends a flock of 10,000.
Most would agree that there are too many ecclesiastical circumscriptions; however, pride in their historical roots and rivalries among them make reducing their number through suppression or consolidation problematic.
Even so, apart from some reservations regarding contemporary Egypt, ecumenical relations among all the churches of the Middle East are optimal. Except for a lack of agreement about how the bishop of Rome should exercise his special ministry for safeguarding and nurturing the unity of the universal church, the divisive doctrinal matters of earlier centuries among most of the churches have been resolved.
Some churches have taken major steps toward unity. For example, in Damascus the Orthodox patriarchate of Antioch and the Melkite Greek Catholic patriarchate of Antioch have been exploring models of collaboration and unity, even to the point of constructing shared parish churches.
However, full communion has not yet been achieved locally, even though it is much desired, especially because of the solidarity of the various Middle Eastern Orthodox and Catholic churches with their not-yet-fully-united mother churches and worldwide brethren.
In many, if not most, countries of the Middle East, the Christian laity feels far less constrained in this regard than the clergy. Full participation in the worship of other churches is not uncommon and most inter-Christian marriages regularly follow the church and rite of the husband.
Most Christians are pleased with the Jordanian practice of celebrating Christmas according to the Latin custom and Easter on the day of Orthodox calculation and would be happy to see this as universal practice.

Leaving Home

The Christian percentage of the population of almost all the countries of the Middle East — the oil-rich Gulf states are notable exceptions — as well as the total number of Christians has been steadily diminishing since the 19th century.
From the dispassionate view of the sociologist, this is a long-term trend inexorably leading toward fewer Christians and inevitably resulting in the loss of that critical mass necessary for the long-term viability of these ancient communities.
Some pessimistically have described this modern decline of the Christian presence in the Middle East as the last stages of the displacement of the Christian Roman Empire by Islam.
Many factors are involved in the decline in Christian population. A significant socioeconomic factor is the difference in family size among contemporary Christians, Muslims and Orthodox Jews. Since Christian families tend to aspire to a high standard of living and education for their children, they have lower birthrates and tend to be smaller than many of their neighbors.
Further, in almost all the countries of the Middle East where native or guest-worker Christians exist, they are generally treated as second-class and are subjected to various forms of explicit or implicit discrimination in housing, employment and civil and military service — occasionally to the point of persecution.
War, terrorism, violence, injustice and poverty have prompted many native Middle East people — e.g., Iraq’s Christians — to relocate within their own countries, flee to neighboring countries or emigrate permanently.
The proportion of Christians among the displaced or emigrating is higher than among the general population — witness Iraq, Syria, Ontario, Michigan or New South Wales.
Christians have a greater affinity with most Western countries because of social and religious ties. Minority Middle East Christians also feel pressured by increasingly more militant Islamists in most Middle East countries — and in Israel feel doubly a minority, both as Arabs among Jews and as Christian Arabs among Muslims.
Generally, the churches historically rooted in the Middle East now have more of their faithful living in the Americas, Western Europe, and Australia than remain in their homelands.
Middle East Christians have taken root in these diaspora lands. They are alive and well and faithful to their traditions — only most do not live in their old neighborhoods anymore.

Sustaining the Christian Presence

When St. Paul wrote to the Romans, he appealed for assistance for the poor Christians of Jerusalem. Since ancient times, a similar concern has existed throughout the Christian world for the poor and needy of the church of Jerusalem, the Holy Land and the entire Middle East.
Most of the churches of the Middle East are not self-sufficient; their modest local resources are not enough to sustain and develop their operations and institutions. In addition to receiving permanent or temporary clerical, religious and lay personnel from abroad, these churches depend upon outside remittances and charitable assistance to sustain their institutional life and programs.
For example, in 1949 the Holy See established a special relief and development agency for the Middle East, the Pontifical Mission; Catholic churches around the world take up a special collection for the Holy Land every year; the Franciscan Custody of the Holy Land has fund-raising networks sustaining its religious and charitable work in the Middle East; and the Equestrian Order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem raises funds for the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem and the churches of the greater Holy Land.
Massive assistance also comes to the Christian communities of the Middle East from other worldwide networks of Catholic and Orthodox charities in addition to governmental aid to the general populations.
The charity of the Christian world to Middle East Christians is vital. The Middle East’s Christian communities may never be filled with youthful vitality again, but in its weakness and need it must not be denied life support from other generations of Christians around the world.

The Role of Middle East Christians

Those Christians who remain in the Middle have a potentially unique role to play — of being bridge builders to the future, especially for the Arab and Muslim worlds.
They have the capacity and mission of bringing the leaven of Christian-inspired values such as pluralism, separation of church and state, and freedom of worship and conscience to their countries, most of which remain relatively culturally isolated from the Western and modern worlds.
Christians can also contribute to the advancement of Middle Eastern countries through their advocacy for respect for God-given human dignity and inalienable rights; by their promotion of reconciliation and forgiveness; and by involving themselves in peacemaking initiatives at local, regional, national and international levels
Their ties to the West, which often personally handicap Middle Eastern Christians in their homelands, can also facilitate and expedite assistance from the West to the growth of these homelands, whether Arab, Israeli, Kurd, Persian, or Turkish.

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

The ancient West Bank city of Hebron houses a shrine built over the cave of Machpaleh, the burial place of Abraham and the patriarchs. Until 1967, the interior of the building was used as a mosque; now a large part is a synagogue. There is an uneasy peace between adherents of the two Abrahamic faiths and much contention about who controls the sanctuary.
Look closely at the architecture of the building housing both Jewish and Muslim worship areas and you will discern a Gothic church dating from the Crusader period — yet Christians have no cultic presence there nor hold any part of the shrine. This symbolizes the Christian situation, caught in the middle between Jew and Muslim, Israeli and Palestinian, almost invisible to both and yet vested in both sides.
Today, the most destabilizing and contentious issue for Christians and all the peoples of the Middle East is this unresolved relationship between Israelis and Palestinians. Both peoples aspire to possess the same small land; both are ambivalent about their use of violence; and both seem consistently to miss opportunities to reconcile their differences.
In her book The March of Folly, historian Barbara Tuchman questioned why governments so often pursue policies contrary to their own long-term interests, despite the availability and knowledge of feasible alternatives.
This favoring of short-term political interests at the expense of long-term best interests characterizes most of the national policies at play in the Middle East today, not only those of Israel and Palestine.
For example, the uneasy confessional balance in Lebanon has prompted agreement among Christians, Sunnis, Shiites and Druze to leave unresolved the status of the hundreds of thousands of Palestinians living in United Nations refugee camps there, in spite of some recent improvements regarding capacity to work lawfully in the country.
Meanwhile, Israel maintains its ambivalence about settlement growth in the occupied Palestinian territories — and with rare exception presumes that a “settlement,” generally an urban development, must be exclusively Jewish and cannot be shared.
Palestinians are internally divided among themselves. In Gaza, they continue to nurture a militant and impractical religious ideology, which still foments terrorism against Israel — tweaking the tail of the tiger as it were.
Several countries espouse policies of massive retaliation and brute violence, paradoxically in the cause of making peace — and frequently presume that internal control to the point of injustice and discrimination ensures domestic tranquility.
Minimally, peace is a cessation of war and violence. But it is also an opportunity to forge new, positive relationships among former enemies. The theological basis for peacemaking is the truth about human persons — that the one God created each individual and endowed each one with inalienable dignity and rights.
Peacemaking is a Christian imperative. Jesus blessed peacemakers, calling them children of God. Peacemaking requires understanding the other. It calls for not being put off by differences but emphasizing what we have in common. It establishes links and connections, makes common cause and persists in maintaining communication.
Above all, peacemaking requires abstaining from revenge and retaliation, while seeking reconciliation and forgiveness. Ultimately, as Jesus taught, it demands the almost impossible — love of enemies. It can be learned and it is achievable with the help of God.
Christians in the Middle East may be relatively few, but their continued presence, their existential witness, their bridge-building across the abysses of division, and their peacemaking are vital to the well-being of all the peoples of the Middle East.


(Published in one, 36:5, September 2010)

Ambivalent Anniversary

My flight arrived at Tel Aviv’s Ben Gurion International Airport. I walked through the long spacious arrivals area and saw a series of 60 striking panels mounted on the wall — each illustrating a significant event for every year of modern Israel’s existence.
On 14 May 1948, the new State of Israel was proclaimed. It was conceived by the United Nations in a vote in November 1947 to partition Mandate Palestine — the segment of the former Ottoman Empire entrusted to Great Britain after the First World War by the League of Nations — into a Jewish state, an Arab state, and an international city of Jerusalem.
Its gestation took only six months. As soon as the British high commissioner withdrew, Israel was born — like all births, born in blood and pain, cut off from the matrix in which it had developed.
As the new blue and white Israeli flag proudly flew and the well-prepared Zionist (Jewish nationalist) militants took possession of as much of the land as they could, the less prepared Palestinian Arabs were appalled.
The armies of neighboring Arab states came to their defense and invaded. When some months later the major hostilities had ceased, Israel possessed most of Mandate Palestine except for the West Bank (the areas of biblical Samaria and Judea) and the coastal Gaza Strip.
For the first time since the conquest of Judea by the Babylonians (the forefathers of modern Iraqis) in 587 B.C., there was a truly independent Jewish state — a land for the Jews, the ancient People of God.
Not all Jews are Israelis, of course, but almost every Jew in the world looks fondly and proudly at modern Israel and its incredible achievements during the brief three score years of its existence.

Surprisingly, not all Israelis are Jews. Although many Palestinian Arabs fled or were driven from what is now Israel, many stayed and are now Israeli citizens. For a while, there was a generation of Israeli Arabs who were proud of their new nationality.
But, as events have continued to unfold in the Palestinian territories — the remainder of Mandate Palestine west of the Jordan River — occupied by Israeli since 1967, the pride of many Israeli Arabs has eroded.
Increasingly, they share the sentiments of their confreres in the occupied territories, who look back on 1948 as a catastrophe, a catastrophe of 60 years duration.
Paradoxically, Paradoxically, the fierce nationalism of the Zionist Jews nurtured an increasingly fierce nationalism on the part of the Palestinian Arabs.
For this 60th anniversary, one people celebrates the triumph of their new land and state; the other mourns the loss of their land and their status as a stateless people.
I wonder was the dream of the framers of the UN partition resolution naïve? Was “partition” meant to be a division of Mandate Palestine or a formula for two peoples to share one land?
Was the special status of Jerusalem — which hardly exists in practice — meant to be a way to keep the jewel from either people’s crown or a way to ensure that it remain a common patrimony for the three great Abrahamic faiths?
To borrow words from a U.S. anthem, “God shed his grace on thee.” May it also be said that he “crowned thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea.”


(An earlier version was
published as “Anniversary” in
one, 34:4, July 2008)

Violence Betrays Religion

During Pope Benedict XVI’s lecture at the University of Regensburg on 12 September, he quoted the views of a late 14th-century Byzantine emperor concerning the unreasonableness of spreading faith through violence.
Emperor Michael II Paleologus presided over a drastically reduced empire. For 700 years, first militant Arabs then Turks had been steadily pushing its frontiers back to the point where it was scarcely more than a city-state.
Christianity was the state religion of the empire. Its opponents, Arabs and Turks, were Muslim. History describes the conflict simply in terms of Muslim versus Christian, omitting the social, economic, and political motives involved, not to mention greed and the hunger for power.
Alas, the followers of each of the three great monotheistic religions from time to time have had recourse to violence in the name of God.
Both ancient and modern Israel were born out of struggle and violence — for example, Joshua tells a tale of merciless bloodshed in the conquest of Canaan.
Christians cannot throw stones with impunity — remember Byzantine Christian armies fighting Persia, Catholic Spaniards conquering pagan Mexico, and Inquisitors judging fellow Christians accused of heresy.
In ancient times, Muslim warriors spread their faith across North Africa and the Middle East to the Pyrenees and the gates of Vienna. Today sectarian violence within the world of Islam is still pitting Shiite against Sunni.
Unfortunately, the holy scriptures of Jews, Christians, and Muslims are sometimes used to justify violence. It is possible to find verses supporting violence in the Torah, the Gospels, and the Qur’an.

What is the main thrust of each of these three great religions? Is it violence? Each has a bewildering array of texts and traditions: Torah, Mishna, Talmud — Gospels, creeds, catechisms, canonical codes — Qur’an, Hadith, Sharia.
The heart of the matter for Jews is the text of Deuteronomy that is enshrined on the lintel of every doorway and wrapped on the arm and brow at prayer: Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone! Therefore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength . . .
Christians look to the Last Supper discourse in John’s Gospel where Jesus says: I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another. This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.
A Muslim never tires of reciting the phrase that is, in effect, the central confession of faith of Islam: There is no god but God, and Muhammad is his messenger.
Violence is in contradiction to what each faith is supposed to preach. Regrettably, rather than see the other as a fellow believer and child of God, we make easy recourse to labels — goy, heretic, infidel, kafr — and easily oversimplify complex modern conflicts as struggles, e.g., between Christianity and Islam, Jew and Muslim
Is there still a lot of violence in the name of religion? Sadly, yes, we know it daily. But, who dare stand before the throne of the one God with brother’s blood on his hands and expect to be rewarded.


(Published as “Religious Violence” in
one, 32:6, November 2006)

Bound by God

The biggest religious holiday for Muslims is Eid al-Adha, the Feast of the Sacrifice. All over the world, devout Muslims recall the sacrifice of Abraham — his willingness to offer the life of his dearly hoped for and dearly loved son in total obedience and submission to the will of God.
Christians and Jews also commemorate and celebrate the submission, faith and sacrifice of Abraham, although not in total agreement with Muslims about all the details of the story.
For Muslims, Abraham is willing to offer up his first-born son, Ismail (Ishmael), child of the slave Hagar whom Abraham took to wife in response to the pleading of the barren Sarah. This is important to Muslims, for Ishmael is considered the great forefather of the Arabs.
For Christians and Jews, Abraham is willing to sacrifice his second-born son, Isaac, the miraculous son of Sarah, the heir of the promise. The symbolism is important to Jews, for Isaac and his son Jacob (Israel) are the forefathers of the Jewish people.
Christians don’t appeal to an ethnic relationship with Abraham but extol him, in the words of the Roman Liturgy, as “our father in faith.”
Later Jewish tradition speaks of the sacrifice not so much as that of Abraham as of Isaac. This faith event is called the Binding of Isaac.
It is the boy, filled with faith like his father, who submits to the supreme will of God and willingly offers his own life in sacrifice. No wonder, then, that Christian tradition sees in Isaac a figure of Jesus, who freely offered his life in sacrifice in obedience to the will of the Father.

When we look at the sacrifice from the point of view of the son, its great lesson is that he suffered himself to be bound. The son freely and willingly surrendered all that he was and had to the will of God. He freely chose to be bound by God’s higher authority. He accepted ultimate restraint upon his freedom and autonomy.
Would that all those who proudly affirm “we are children of Abraham,” whether by human descent or by faith, be his children in deed — and suffer themselves to be bound by the demands of the will, the justice, and the love of God.
Individual persons, families, clans, tribes, ethnic groups, nations, governments — we are all reluctant to be bound by anything or anybody. Our supreme value is to be free.
What binds the descendants of Ishmael and the descendants of Isaac? Do religious traditions bind the behavior of nation states? Do treaties, conventions, and the resolutions of the United Nations limit the options of governments?
How about all those other, spiritual children of Abraham, peoples rooted in revealed truths and the divine will? What binds people outside the Middle East when it comes to their personal liberties or the actions of their leaders?
Hopefully Muslims, Christians and Jews who recall the same sacrifice also share the same insight of faith — when we allow the Lord to bind us, we become truly free.


(Published as “Isaac Unbound” in
CNEWA World, 29:3, May 2003)