Today I worshiped at Saint Mark Coptic Orthodox Church in South Charlotte. This was my third Orthodox liturgy service and my first time in the company of Coptic Christians. These Christians come from Egypt and their faith links back to a time when the city of Alexandria was an important part of Ancient Greece. This liturgy service proved to be a great experience.
I attended this liturgy with my friend Scott Murray, a South Carolinian by birth and a follower of Orthodox Christianity by conversion. He's an overall great and smart guy to spend time with.
On this rainy Sunday, I arrived at the church while the liturgy was already ongoing. There are both English and Arabic services in this church. The ancient liturgical language of the Copts is (intuitively) named Coptic, a language that is derived from Greek. The Coptic alphabet has seven additional characters compared to Greek, which accounts for additional phonemes that aren't part of the Greek language. As someone who can read Greek in a basic way, I could make out some of the words in Coptic script.
For example, below are the word kyrie elaison in Coptic script, which in Greek read as Κύριε ἐλέησον:
Pretty similar, right?
Here are some pictures of Saint Mark Coptic Orthodox Church:
When I entered, I stood in the back of the church and noticed a haze of brunt frankincense across the congregation. There was chanting in Arabic, English and Coptic. The screens at the front of the church had writing of all three languages. The front of the church was covered in a unique iconography, different than what I had seen in the Greek Churches. It was beautiful and exotic to me right away.
Here are a couple of videos from the liturgy. Note the cymbals that are used during the chanting in the first video. Also note in the second video that when a Bible verse is read out loud, it is sung instead of being read in quotidian speech.
Overall, this was a fascinating exposure to the extant first-century form of the Christian church.
What happened next was interesting. The congregation participated in eucharist (communion) which was the end of liturgy. Most of the congregation then departed into the rainy Charlotte day.
And that was when the sermon was ready to be given.
If that surprises you, it did the same to me. But this was the order of service. Liturgy - most people depart and then the sermon. And the sermon proved to be the real highlight of the experience for me.
The sermon referred to Luke 5:17-26, which is the story of Yeshua healing a paralytic man. The sermon did some interesting things with this story.
To read the story, click here.
The sermon was given by Father Arsanios, a brilliant and bright soul. Here is a picture of him, taken from the church website:
Father Arsanios explored the themes in these Bible verses by pointing out that the paralytic man can be understood as a representation of humanity. He is the example of those of us who carry the burden of alienation from God (sin) and who are living in a condition short of our fullness. In short, every human.
That made sense to me.
Then he said that the four men who carried the paralytic could be understood to represent as the four Gospels, God's Word to those of us struggling with some form of divine alienation. He also offered that these four men could also perhaps be understood to represent the four dimensions of the Orthodox Church - Bishops, Priests, Deacons and the laity.
That also made sense to me. And I enjoy when the symbolic meaning of a Gospel story is searched.
Then the Father pointed out that the men who carried the paralytic man to Yeshua did not say anything. They made no verbal request of him. They were instead silent. This, he said, was an example of the profound power of silent prayer. He said, "You don't need to be speaking to God about binding up the Broken Person, which is you... He already knows what you need. Simply bring your need to Him."
Such a simple and beautiful message.
We are broken.
We have the Gospels and the Church as avenues for healing and wholeness.
We can acquire that fullness through no volition of our own, but through an obedience that is expressed in the silent pleading of our hearts.
Boom.
Below is a picture of the Father giving this sermon, as well as a picture of where he, Scott (foreground) and I spent some time together after the sermon.
At the end of the sermon, Scott and I were each given a communion loaf - "the host" - which was provided to us as a personal relic of our time at Saint Mark. It had Coptic script around its perimeter, zoom in and have a look.
This gift was one of many ways that this place touched my heart and mind.
As the sermon finished, the church emptied and Scott and I got to spend time with the Father, a Deacon named Roland, as well as a young man who is an active participant in the liturgy in that he played the cymbals. It was during this conversation that I asked what word Copts use for "God." I was told that they say Allah, the Arabic word for "The God." But I also learned that centuries ago they used the word "Ephnuti," the Coptic word for "The God."
Which brings us to the relics in Saint Mark.
The myriad of ways that we seek His face is sinking in on me as I approach one quarter completion of this 100-church experience. There are so many ways up this one mountain that we Christians hike - the summit of which contains an empty cross and grave, as well as a shimmering light off in the distance which beckons each of us into an eternal Presence. That Presence will wipe away all tears and remove suffering from the cosmos once and for all.
i relly enjoyed this post. "But what joined us together is our common Lord, the Slain Lamb of our collective redemption...The myriad of ways that we seek His face ...There are so many ways up this one mountain that we Christians hike - the summit of which contains an empty cross and grave, as well as a shimmering light off in the distance which beckons each of us into an eternal Presence. That Presence will wipe away all tears and remove suffering from the cosmos once and for all. May that time come soon"
ReplyDeleteAMEN!