top of page
Writer's pictureMary Beshay

Rebuild My Church: Renewing the Coptic Priesthood


(The Coptic Narrative Project has written consent to post this article on our website. Originally posted on: https://medium.com/@Coptic/rebuild-my-church-renewing-the-coptic-priesthood-ce12a9f3676f)


Written by: Bavly Kost, Theo Arseny, & Andrew Paul


#CopticSurvivor isn’t just about outing sexual misconduct.

It’s a call for solidarity in the face of an institution that has been tone deaf to the cries of its people for too long. Earlier this summer, Sally Zakhari valiantly detailed her sexual abuse at the hands of a priest, and how clerical authorities mishandled the incident. Sally survived victimization as an 11 year-old in 1997 by Yousef Aziz Khalil, and came forward to Bishop Youssef at 16 in 2002, only to be told that he had prior knowledge of similar allegations. And yet, Khalil’s crimes were never reported to local or state authorities. Instead, he was afforded the luxury of travelling back and forth from Egypt, the United States, and Canada for years, with little more than sporadic private reprimands. He left a trail of victims in his wake, and was granted a promotion to Hegomen some years later. It took over a decade for an official announcement of his defrocking (which was inadequately enforced), and a plea to the Pope, before an internal investigation was conducted in 2019. Weeks after the report leaked, a public apology from the two implicated Dioceses (Minya and Southern US) and the office of the Pope had yet to be issued.


But Dioceses across the Diaspora are starting to issue generic statements addressing the incidents, joined by an ensemble of self-congratulatory voices celebrating the Church’s minimal efforts as though they were significant milestones. Lost in the pomp is the answer to why it took 12 years for Khalil to be defrocked in 2014 and how it was never reported to civil authorities by members of the clergy. It also wasn’t the first time a group of powerful men put children in harm’s way by delaying an investigation into a known predator, and instead transferred him to other parts of the world. In a recent interview on the matter, when asked why it took so long to defrock Khalil, the Pope mentioned such processes take years to deliberate, yet he had defrocked a monk days after he was accused of killing a Bishop. Asked about the same matter, a Papal spokesperson mentioned forgiveness should be doled out generously “10, 15, up to 20 times”, citing King David as the exemplar of how a serial womanizer can still become righteous in God’s eyes. Perhaps similar circumstances led St. John Chrysostom to observe that “the road to hell is paved with the skulls of bishops and priests”.


It’s hard to recognize the Gospel’s core tenet of defending the oppressed in all this rhetoric. Conspicuously missing in official correspondences from the Church hierarchy is a recognition of guilt, a plea for forgiveness, or a modicum of an apology. Though nothing will fully heal the wounds Sally and others carry, an acknowledgement of the wrong inflicted can begin to heal the scars of guilt, shame, fear, and anger.


We believe evil is not something that should be negotiated with or secretly swept into desert monasteries. Evil must be publicly exposed, excised, and eradicated. Sally and many others took that first step for us. But for the sake of the long-term health of the church, now is not the time for half-hearted and apathetic measures, but a plucking out of evil, root and stem. For years, our voices have joined a growing chorus asking for reform on how the Coptic Church views priestly leadership and the role of women. An institution’s response to a crisis can either exacerbate or mitigate the damage from a crisis. This particular incident reflects an institutionalized neglect of the most vulnerable, magnifies the need for leadership roles for women in the church, and unveils a priestly class with more authority than accountability.


How did we get here?


A brief retrospective might be useful. The term priest was rarely used in the early church the way we understand it today. The New Testament lists “…first apostles, second prophets, third teachers” (1 Cor 12:28); deacons and overseers (Phil 1:1); elders appointed in every church (Acts 14:23); and persons who labor among the brethren (1 Thess 5:12–13). Absent in this list is the term priest or priesthood. Early Christian writers used the term priest for bishops (overseers). As Christianity grew, bishops needed pastoral assistance and began receiving support from deacons, sub-deacons, and priests; of note, priests constituted a small element within the larger priesthood. Canonical rules prohibited priests from conducting liturgy alone since the entire work of the Church — liturgy — was a synergy between Christ, Laity, and priesthood.


For various historical reasons, priesthood in the Coptic Church gradually became more about the priest proper and less on other roles. Meanwhile, the Church’s understanding of women succumbed to a tangled mess of Bronze Age notions of purity, Old Testament literality, and Islamic theology. Silence, obedience, and purity became the trifecta of piety for women. The concept of purity specifically crippled the dignity of women in the Church because it rendered reputation as the ultimate virtue. Deaconship historically held by women slowly vanished from our Church, replaced by young boys horse-playing in altars that dared not be entered by the most pious of nuns. Women were left largely voiceless, and female leadership withered. Is it any surprise that the Coptic Church continues to practice outdated rituals surrounding female baptism, menstruation, dress codes, men communing before women, and gender-assigned seating, despite the protest? The end product is an emboldened display of patriarchy within Church walls that is only intensified by a harmful theology of body and sex.


The diminished role of the deaconess and the other priestly orders, coupled with a historically persecuted Coptic laity hungry for spiritual leadership, exalted priests beyond their original purpose. In their poverty of knowledge, the laity instilled them with mystical qualities, and looked to them for supernatural guidance. A priestly caste emerged, dominated by men donned in black cloaks and grey beards. But like law enforcement officers in the US, little training accompanied huge responsibility. In the diaspora, reflecting the laity’s growing needs in rapidly progressing societies, we made them Administrators, Financial Analysts, Career Consultants, Marriage Counselors, Mental health Nurses, Political Advisors, Theologians, Psychotherapists, Social Workers, and Teachers, among other things.


Can 40 days in the desert really prepare someone for all that?

True priesthood recognizes where the bottom rung of the latter is and stoops one level lower. The priest’s sole vocation is to serve us. The Didascalia, a third-century document, defines the priesthood as a call “to give wings to the soul, to wean it for the world and to present it to God; to preserve the image of God in man if it exists, to strengthen it if it has become enfeebled, and to restore it if it has become obliterated…to deify and bestow the blessedness of heaven upon him who in fact belongs to heaven”.


In light of this, we can start to see why Sally’s story was dismissed for years, but also how it could have been prevented. Priests, as the earthly embodiment of Christ, should have shown mercy, compassion, and executed justice, not just for Sally, but for all victims of trauma inflicted by the Church. Instead, we witnessed sharp reversal in what priests ought to stand with and for: the victim. Clergy members who looked the other way chose to preserve themselves, rather than their flock. In the harsh sociopolitical climate of Egypt, maintaining a pristine public reputation has a hefty price. But priests are to embody Christ, the true Priest, who made Himself of no reputation (Phil 2:7) and descended to the lowest pit of Hades to raise us, His flock.


The one calling of the priesthood is to move the soul of the Church one step closer to heaven. But perhaps the failures of the priesthood are also our own. Have we overburdened our priests? Have we expected too much from them? Did we not voice our concerns loudly enough? In what way have our collective actions, or lack thereof, contributed to the victimization of the most vulnerable among us?


Where do we go from here?


We need to restore the original paradigm of priesthood. This entails returning back to a tradition of Adam co-presiding Eden with Eve; one in which women are reinstated as co-owners of the priestly order. The Didascalia’s reminder that the “clergy and laity together comprise the Catholic Church, the holy and perfect, a royal priesthood” is worth noting here. That restoration involves women serving in the Church’s liturgical life, shoulder-to-shoulder with men within the diverse orders of Church hierarchy. The leadership of women is vital to caring for the marginalized, who, in our Coptic church, often are women. We’ve seen photos of Armenian deaconesses administering the Eucharist to congregation members, teasing us with the art of the possible. We’re also familiar with Pope Shenouda’s attempt to restore the rank of deaconess, before more traditionalist voices in the Synod nixed the initiative.


Much ink has been spilled describing how we can restore the true calling and understanding of priests. What everyone can agree on is that every radical turn toward the good in Church history began with a reform of the Clergy. We need to recapture the Spirit that led St. Bishoy to see Christ in the frail and elderly, St. Basil to redirect his wealth to building hospitals for the sick, and St. Verena to nurse lepers and counsel young girls. Sainthood is more than miracles and martyrs, it’s humbly meeting the broken-hearted and bearing their burden with them. It means dying daily. Like the Good Shepherd, the priest must seek to be the servant, not the lord, of the many.


As for the immediate circumstances, we must urgently provide justice for victims and ensure safeguards for protecting the lives of vulnerable women and children. Related to immediate events, our church must:

  • Report Khalil and all others accused to Interpol for independent investigation

  • Remove Bishops who fail to report known allegations to law enforcement

  • Issue a formal public apology by the Office of the Pope and implicated dioceses to the victims and the general laity

In addition, there should be permanent changes made, including:

  • Mandating children confessions in a publicly viewable space

  • Requiring sexual misconduct training for all current and future clergy and servants of the Church

  • Establishing a support system to allow victims of sexual misconduct to seek professional guidance

  • Requiring psychological evaluations and background checks by an independent third party for all current and prospective individuals entering the priesthood

Collectively we believe these constitute genuine steps toward a renewal within our Church. As the Holy Faithful, let’s not lose sight of the fact that it is the Poor and Vulnerable who are our Masters, and the priests and bishops our servants.


Bavly Kost is a Coptic Orthodox Christian who holds an MA in Theology from St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary,  an MPS from Emmanuel College in the University of Toronto, and a BA (Hons) in History and Religious Studies and a BEd, both from York University in Toronto. He contributed an article in the second edition of The Orthodox Dilemma: Personal Reflections on Global Pan-Orthodox Christian Conciliar Unity (OCP Publications, 2017), has written for The Alexandria School Journal published by Agora University in Alexandria, Egypt, and authored a small book entitled 1st Corinthians for Teens (St. Shenouda Monastery Press, Sydney, 2015). He works as a Spiritual Care Practitioner for the Scarborough Health Network in Toronto, Canada.


180 views0 comments

Comments


Commenting has been turned off.
bottom of page