A Hint of Clarity

Amidst the loud voices and tempestuous opinions hurling towards me in these last 48 hours, a hint of tranquil clarity is necessary.

I will begin with an elaboration on my jarring personal reflection, followed by a peaceful response to musings in the air surrounding either my person or my intentions.

My first post was a reflection of only three short paragraphs regarding the PROCESS for the ordination of priests within the Coptic Church as it is today (more specifically in the diaspora—though this point was in my mind and not explicit). Given that it was just a short rumination (clearly insufficient to grasp all that I have to say on this matter—y’all know I love to talk Church & Liturgy), It may be of benefit to explain my intentions further. Let’s take it line by line, shall we?

The first line reads “a personal, general reflection:”

If I am sharing something academic with people who enjoy my research, I make that very clear. If I’m sharing something that is personal it is also made very clear. My tone is very different depending on what I’m writing about, the concept that I’m reflecting, and how I feel about the topic. And that is a personal choice. You, as a reader, may not align with my tone on a personal piece, and you are entitled to your opinion, as I am entitled to mine (especially when I am not speaking in an academic manner nor in an “official” capacity). Some may say that if it involves the church, it must automatically be academic and open to all for discussion. To that I simply say, “No”. At the most basic level, we are humans. We do not exist in a vacuum. We have just as much emotion as we do logic (some may have more one than the other, and we all have some more than the other at times). Each person’s humanity and ability to express that personhood ought to be acknowledged, allowed for, and respected (regardless of what your rank is or what their rank is within the ecclesiastical realm). In fact, in light of the Scriptures and the Fathers, to be Christian is to be fully human (but that’s another point and not for discussion here). As a human, I respect that you may have your opinions on what I write. What I say may strike you in some way. It may agitate you, it may even hurt your feelings (not intended to, of course). And you have every right to feel the way that you do…just as I have every right to speak my mind and feel as I do. At times, some of my writing might even intend to provoke thought, maybe not give all the answers or assume that I have all the answers? Maybe just poke at a sensitive topic in our community or church that needs to be addressed—even if it isn’t the most pleasant thing to think about? It seems though, that in the Coptic community, whenever it comes to matters of the Church, no one is actually allowed to have a different opinion without being considered antagonistic. Possibly due to the fact that we as Copts engage in all fields at a high academic level, but with matters of the church we do not? Is it possible that we haven’t read the Scriptures enough or the Fathers enough, or studied their writings and how they spoke, and how much variation there is between them, and even disagreement? Possibly because of the culture Copts abide by in an Islamic Egypt? Possibly because these matters are integral to each person at the core of their being?—we know that as Copts our faith is certainly not a set of rules but an essential part of our identity (at the very least). Take some time to explore your own thoughts on this.

On another note, I am a member of the church body, a son of the Church, and like all of you, friends, I have personal experiences in/with the church. Each of us has experiences that shape how we see the world around us, experiences that do not belong to anyone else and are not for anyone else to dismiss. Some are amazing, and some are not so much. Does that in any way take from my love for the Church? Not even 1%. If any of you know me personally, you understand very well what I mean. And for those who don’t, maybe assume the best or maybe throw me a bone; “even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table”.

Being that this is a personal matter, it also means that when one wishes to engage in conversation with me, it has to maintain that personal nature, that human aspect. I am not a machine able to answer all of your comments, there are many instances I don’t even see all the comments or am not notified about them (thanks, Facebook!). I also may not have the capacity to respond, again human—we work, have families, responsibilities, projects etc. A little grace goes a long way. This isn’t a petition to you for kindness, this is just a reminder that our discussions are actually meant to take into account being an actual person. At least that’s how I see them. And this shouldn’t be something I have to write about…but, sadly, the art of conversing has departed from our society long ago. Hence, on this post here, I am not allowing comments, I will welcome personal messages from anyone who would like to speak with me, and engage me as a human, via phone or even in person, as I do value very much these interactions. This is of course subject to my discretion and availability, as not everyone has the best intentions. One more point, I’m also very much allowed to moderate the posts on my wall; I don’t know when that turned illegal. If there are comments that I see are going to cause a tumult, or people who are purposefully going on to cause commotion or be hurtful, I am certainly going to delete those comments. It is not fear, or inability to respond, or even to silence people who think differently—I attempted to stop comments as a whole but wasn’t allowed by FB at the time. For those of you who see my posts and then engage in conversations about me or my work assuming many things I did not say or with thoughts about my intentions, I welcome you also to share your thoughts with me directly and personally for our mutual benefit, seeing as you want what’s good for me (One can hope ) I speak not out of spite but of honesty and straightforwardness. Someone said that limiting comments is not a healthy discussion—I actually beg to differ. A friend saw the hoopla and reached out to me and said, “Posting on social media is like having a discussion with everyone you’ve ever met all at the same time”. One can only talk so much, to so many people, at the same time. So, let’s talk. But normally.

The second line (haha) says, “The ordination of priests without proper/formal seminary training is a travesty.”

Here, you’ll notice that I began with “the ordination of priests.” I am very selective with my words, and did not say, “all you current priests” or “this priest being ordained soon” or “all your family member priests” or even “hey bishops,…” I said, “the ordination of priests” — conceptual. To all of you who may have taken offense, I do apologize, but you misinterpreted my speech. I also allowed for some variation here and used the phrase “without proper/formal seminary training”. I did not dictate what the seminary training ought to look like, or what “proper” meant, or even what level of training I believe should occur. Again, conceptual. Open. Thinking. I have a personal idea of what I think should be done, and what the benefits of that might be, but I didn’t discuss that here. Assuming that I only see one possible way is just that—an assumption. I also did not discount from any of the efforts that have been made to educate our people and clergy. I also did not say one negative comment about any specific person.

More importantly, it came to my attention, that most Copts (especially in the diaspora) have no idea what seminary is. As a result, some think it’s a new concept foreign to the Coptic Church. Some think it’s a means for people to automatically become priests. Others believe that attending seminary actually puffs people up (namely, me) making them feel more qualified than others and that we need to find a way to keep seminarians humble; keeping our priest informally educated, keeps them humble, or is deemed by the church or the synod as enough.

Allow me please to speak about my experience at seminary as a means of inviting you all into my journey. In 2019, after completing my pharmacy degree, I felt a need to take some time in prayer and investing in my humble gift and love for the Coptic liturgical tradition. The day I completed my licensure examinations, I moved into St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary with the approval and recommendation of the bishop of my diocese at that time (though it was not required for M.A. students). I attended my classes during the week, worked on the weekends to pay for my tuition, and served in my parish on Sundays. I suppose those two years at SVOTS were like any other—times of great joy, learning, and prayer, as well as great sadness, grief, turbulence, struggle; I am reminded of Fr. Chad Hatfield’s first words to us as a class: “My son, if you come forward to serve the Lord prepare yourself for temptation.” And boy, was that the case. Our daily routine comprised of daily liturgical prayer, Matins at 7:30 and Vespers at 5; in between, we had meals and classes and obediences (ask my family, after doing six months of dishes at SVOTS for all of our classmates, I came home and had no problem washing the plates in our sink; I should probably reignite that now too haha). A dear brother of mine recently said to me, “It is not easy to be corrected.” This notion resonated with me greatly. Spending three hours a day with Fr. John Behr, in OT class and in Patristics, was literally that—being corrected every day for 3 hours at least. It wasn’t the information itself that was of the most value, but the process by which were taught to think and analyze, to know that what we had thought wasn’t exactly it, or to find out that what we knew was correct but for a much deeper reasoning. Asking questions and being shaped into theological thinkers. Being humbled by a professor who lifted us up in thought and in action and in prayer. It was one of the greatest blessings in my life. Conversing with people who weren’t exactly like me also was an extremely important aspect of my time at SVOTS. I remember Fr. Bogdan Bucur’s class on Christophanies and their reception in the early centuries of the Church that made me read things I never heard of. I can still feel the frustration when I receive an email with feedback on a paper that was longer than the paper itself from another beloved professor. Personally, I had always had a different experience in my life and wasn’t really limited to the Coptic bubble as many of our people are, but my time at seminary really impacted me in this regard. We had our differences and our disagreements, personal and theological, but we lived together and loved one another, and at the end of the day had one common goal to worship and love and serve the Lord. We had students from protestant, catholic, eastern and oriental orthodox backgrounds. Nothing was taught in a derogatory way, everyone’s views were assessed solely based on academic rigor and methodology and without indoctrination. In fact, I so much appreciated my being a Copt more during and after seminary than before. We were engrained in the liturgical life of the Church, we were put to the test in our ability to synthesize information, learn the languages necessary for Scriptural study, while also being accountable to spiritual formation on an internal level. It was not a means of gathering information, it was a process of orthodox formation. How to become a faithful practicing loving Orthodox Christian encapsulating the fullness of what that is to be. I, along with my classmates I’m sure, feel that going to seminary was the single greatest decision of my life. It changed me in ways I cannot express. It also the greatest curse in my life because it made me cognizant; I am aware now of the true ungraspable depth in all that we do as an Orthodox Church. I am more confident in analyzing the texts I study and know the boundaries of my tradition. I am more willing to engage in thought beyond my mental or cultural limitation without being dismissive. I am more invested in my own personal growth and the growth of my fellow members. I am exponentially more liturgically keen and prayerful. None of these things, none of the knowledge attained, none of the mental or spiritual aspects cultivated in me during my seminary experience were devoid of the Spirit of God. On the contrary, I found my ignorance being the cause for so much pride in me that being humbled through my education I was able to submit much more to God and to the Church and Her Tradition. I wasn’t trying to make things work my way. I wasn’t insisting on something being one way or the other. I became more flexible in my dialogue with others. I became more concerned for them pastorally. I became more masterful in my performance of liturgical hymns and rituals. I became more internally attuned to the voice of the LORD in my times of prayer and solace. Being on campus was like stepping out of the world, and going to work was entering a place of extreme chaos. So you see, why would I not advocate for all our priests to have this time in training before taking on the grave responsibility of the priesthood? Why would I not want my fathers to be immersed into the life of the priest, rather than 40 days of stress and sleepless nights in a monastery half way around the world after a life changing event? Why would I require of them such a swift change without enough time for them and their families to adjust? Why would I expect that all the necessary training can be accomplished in such a short time, in languages they likely don’t understand? Due to the nature of my interests, a majority of my closer friends are actually priests—and a majority of those actually wish they had this type of preparation! One father recently shared with me, “Seminary is a work of humility. It grinds down scum of the earth into salt of the earth.” Tis’ true, father. We who labor for the Church in any capacity are nothing but dust, but the work of spiritual and intellectual Orthodox formation is meant to turn that dust into something good for the Church; it is a process.

The concept of seminary studies is not one foreign to our Church. It has taken many different shapes in our history as Copts. Bishop Suriel has written on this so I mean not to regurgitate what His Grace already wrote. Consider the seminary in Egypt, and that a number of our priests even here in the US were products of that—in fact, some of the most revered clergy of our time, Fr. Bishoy Demetrius of blessed memory, and Fr. Mikhail Tobia, may God grant him good health, were both seminarians and were sent here as such in the early times of immigration to this country. In fact, I saw a photo of Fr. Bishoy’s wedding recently where he was wed in his formal cassock. The choir praying with HH Pope Tawadros II during the Feasts is a choir of seminarians. The seminary is a place where the Church ought to seek to form her ministers into what they should be so that they can serve their children at the best possible level and the future quality of your teaching and your servants depends very much so on this.

The attendance of the seminary was not an automatic guarantee for priesthood. In fact, I specifically chose the MA program which was more strictly focused on the academic track because I was not interested in the priesthood. We also had female students and students from other jurisdictions (as I mentioned) who had no interest in the priesthood. Some of the other jurisdictions had a system for their ordinations; I recall the Antiochian Orthodox Church more or less ordained their students in stages after the completion of their coursework along with their spiritual preparedness as evaluated by their bishops. No one is trying to circumvent that hierarchical blessing. As an example, a layman enters the seminary, completes their coursework for the first year, and is given the blessing by their hierarch and is then ordained a deacon. He would then spend a year as a deacon, being trained in that ministry (on all fronts) and after the completion of the second year was ordained to the priesthood, with a third full year of training during their priesthood. Upon completion, many of my classmates were assigned to parishes all over the country and serve there now. This is just an example of a system—it was not one size fits all, and didn’t apply to everyone, and there are some brothers who were not ordained even to the diaconate, and not because they were not well or were unqualified but simply because of circumstances of life or even the lack of desire for such a responsibility. In any case, no ordination occurs without the hierarchical blessing—so the question also begs itself: what then is the actual problem with sending our candidates to seminary?

A final note on this concept, the exception does not negate the rule. The Church making an exception during a specific period of time or for a specific scenario does not mean that we should consider this the general or proper way of going about things. The Coptic Church in specific never said our priests shouldn’t attend seminary, why then would they have one? The COC never made a decree that says we will only ordain priests who are uneducated, so why then do we not educate them? There were many statements that only seminary graduates would be ordained, however, and yet due to the culture and governmental pressures in Egypt, this notion was forgone for a time. Does that mean it must be forgone forever? We’re also not in Egypt anymore; do we need to consistently replicated everything exactly as it is in Egypt? If they choose to ordain priests who are not formally trained, must we continue the same trajectory in a society that focuses highly on its academic rigor and qualification?

Moving along, I made this strong statement: “It is dishonest and disrespectful of the church towards her children to appoint someone to care for them who has not been cared for himself and has not been trained to shepherd them. It’s careless of the church to call someone to the priesthood without equipping them with the tools they need to serve.”

Many of you may have never heard someone speak of the church in such a way. I sense this is a major cause of frustration for our people. To be honest with you, this depends very much so on your experience and exposure. You may be surprised to read some of the writings of St. Paul then, or some of the Fathers like Chrysostom, or the Pillar of Faith, and many others, or even better, read Christ’s words which were not always the most swallowable; you might even find them outlandish then. For those of you who are parents, which of you would allow someone to take care of your children without you being assured that they can take care of a child? Which of you would not ensure that the person taking of your child when you’re away is not properly equipped with EVERY SINGLE tool that they could possibly need? Who among you would be so negligent as to leave your child in the care of someone whom you’re not entirely familiar with and certain of. Which of you would endanger your child in that way and endanger the person you entrusted to their care in that way? A parent who does such things is often in news with a terrible story; I envision an older lady with white hair and dentures next to her watching channel 7 gasping for air at the sight. In the same vein, we ought to expect better from our church as a whole. We love our mother, and we want her to be well. We want to be shepherded, not for our comfort or ease, but for our salvation. We don’t want the babysitter who just lets us do what we want, we need the active caretaker who makes sure our needs are met. I recall my parents who worked during the day entrusted us to the care of a blessed and beloved woman who was not Coptic or Egyptian; but she insisted every morning that my brother and I do our prayers, even if I had tried to sneak a day from my parents rules. Our priests, who take care of us, in our best moments and our worst times, need to be providing us and our children what we need, not just what makes us happy, and they need to have the training and the wisdom and the knowledge to do so. I bring to mind my spiritual father who does not shy away from correcting me and my brothers who also share their thoughts for my benefit—these I myself have given the ability to give me their pearls of wisdom because I trust in their formation and their education. I would never allow for one to direct me unless I was certain that he or she himself was not blind and leading me in an incorrect path.

Now for the statement that ruffled the rest of the feathers: “Those who accept the call to the priesthood without feeling the need to study (at an intellectually honest and rigorous level) and be formed by the Church and Her Tradition are doing themselves and their people a great disservice—whether it be by willful ignorance or a genuine love for God (without proper guidance).”

Notice that I did not state “those who accepted”. I was not speaking of any of our current fathers or the previous ones, or the ones who just accepted. I said, those who accept WITHOUT FEELING the need to study. It should come to you as no surprise that, yes, some people in our community seek out the priesthood and not necessarily out of a desire to serve God—willfully ignorant people who may not see even the need to study and prepare themselves for this great and honored office. (For those of you who assumed I was speaking of current candidates—they had already sought out education before they were called to the priesthood, so…again, not about anyone in particular). For many of the current fathers, the opportunity to study was not available; that doesn’t mean that they intended not to study. No one is questioning those fathers’ intent. The overwhelming majority of our priests are God-loving men who earnestly serve God the best way they know how. What I’m pointing a light on isn’t the God-loving men or their service, but the way they know how. And it isn’t enough to take a theological course at some random place/institution and say I’m learned. I doubt someone who is learned will ever say he or she is learned; at least for me, the more I’ve learned, the more I learned that I know nothing. We must have qualified teachers and honest systems at our institutions; we should actually be enrolling in and/or developing accredited institutions (which some are) by upholding the standards at least of the best that the society we live in has to offer. It is rather dishonest for someone to go to an institution and be awarded a “degree” by someone who does not have the qualifications to actually award that “degree”, hence my comment on intellectual honesty. My statement makes a clear distinction between willful ignorance (those who go ahead and accept the call thinking that they are good the way they are and have no need to study and learn and that they deserve this position) and those with a genuine love for God without proper guidance (those who may have been selected and accept because they want to serve the Lord and his children, but were persuaded not to study, or were told to study later (which rarely ever happens), or were convinced otherwise for whatever reason).

And finally, “The Church, in order to lift Her people, must equip Her priests with the true Orthodox mind and spirit. Otherwise, we are tricking ourselves into thinking we are serving God, when in actuality we’re putting on a show (even if we have been conditioned to believe it).” I think the first sentence goes without controversy. I hope, anyway. If we have confusion there, then nothing I say is enough. The second sentence is in line with the first. If I as a church employ someone as a priest who isn’t prepared (to the best that we can be; nothing qualifies us or prepares us fully, but we ought to do at least the minimum) and expect them to be a beacon of Christianity and Orthodoxy at that, I am gravely mistaken. Orthodoxy is a way of life, it is something we must be immersed in. How can someone who has not been immersed in it, tradition that to others? We would be truly putting on a show (even if we’re used to this scenario) if we think that someone who doesn’t have something, can give that something to others (فاقد الشئ لا يعطيه). Then, when issues arise, we complain and find ourselves in catastrophe after catastrophe, and say how can this be? Except, we never actually get to the root cause and treat it. We are a reactionary people. We rarely, if ever, plan ahead and put systems in place. If I know that in 10 years time, I will need 10 priests, why am I not preparing those 10 candidates from now? Following up on their spiritual progress, directing their path with guidance, providing them with education, tending to their families, figuring out what their talents are, figuring out what their weaknesses are, finding out how one (as a bishop) or we (as a community) can assist that person on their path towards serving the Lord—why are we not thinking about these things?

As always, I reiterate my love for my Church to whom I aspire to be a faithful son. I would ask those who question my integrity and my love to also question why someone who is so “angry” or “against” the Church would dedicate so much of his life to the Church? And here, I specify the Church in its ontological sense as the body of Christ, and not one specific institution or another.

And this post is not out of a need or requirement to respond, or have the last word, or double down, or whatever else people may come up with in their minds. This is an invitation for you to engage with me as a person instead of as an internet personality or some radical figure, to be vulnerable and personable, to just be human. It is also an encouragement for you to engage with these concepts on your own time in your prayers, thoughts, gatherings, and families.

My dear reader, if you wish to read me, read me critically because I intend to write critically (even in short three paragraph reflections).

With my love in Christ,

DG

P.S. It was also brought to my attention in conversation with a beloved friend that a number of people were scandalized by a statement I made in the comments. Again, for clarity, I’m happy to elaborate.

The statement reads, “we’ve become so accustomed to expecting such little quality from our priests that we’re blatantly defending our current state,” and the particular controversy is about the “expecting such little quality from priests”. Apparently a number of people chose to read this as “little quality priests” which, of course, is not in the slightest what I said.

Very simply, you or I can be a wonderful person who produces low quality material (whatever the reason). I can at times produce something very high quality or at other times of very low quality (many of you may think the original post was of low quality, I would hope that you don’t think I am a person of low quality because you didn’t like the post). A priest may really like one of his sermons today, and might think his previous one was of a lower quality. A priest may also enhance the quality of his service to the sick maybe, or the imprisoned, or the grieving, or the dying, or maybe in his management of a parish council. All of these things can be improved by seminary training!

A priest who has attended seminary and completed his coursework will be aware of many more resources that another may not be. He will be able to synthesize his thoughts for a cohesive sermon and be familiar with the varying styles of sermons that exist. A father who has spent time learning techniques for visitations, will be much more comfortable employing the skills he has learned, instead of learning on the fly from personal subjective experiences, making many mistakes along the way that can be avoided. A father who has been trained will also be more familiar with the boundaries that ought to be placed in his service, what and what not to be involved in in the life of his children, what decisions he can influence and what limitations he has as a priest.

When we become accustomed to fathers who don’t receive training beforehand, we also become numb to the quality of the service they provide. We may expect them or be okay with them not fully grasping liturgical concepts or being liturgically fluent. We may consider it normal to disengage during their sermons. We may subconsciously even look down at our fathers because we don’t consider them to be knowledgable about what they’re doing. I’m sure most of our clergy, especially when they begin their service, go through a phase where everyone is giving them advice and telling them how they want them to do things, simply because they’re new and we know that they have no prior training.

In summary, I did not speak of anyone or their character or their nature or their love for the LORD. I simply hinted at the notion that we as a community expect little quality from the priests (though we expect LOTS AND LOTS of quantity).