Friday 13 May 2011

Vignettes from Holy Week

I know this is a tad late, but Holy Week was a wonderfully intense and intensive learning experience for me.



Abuna Butros cleans out the baptismal font on Great Monday ready for the community's walk through the Passion Week, or 'Week of Pains' as it is in Arabic.

Early Thursday morning and Abuna Butros dons a black stole to read excerpts of the Passion narrative.

A child wears clothes associated with St Kyrillos. Syriac Orthodox parents dedicate their children to God, often in the name of a particular saint whose characteristics they desire for their child.         







Maunday Thursday, awaiting the Archbishop.




The whole Syriac Orthodox community gathers for the Good Friday vigil. 

  

A Syriac scout prepares for Sabt-an-Nur, the Holy Saturday festival in which the Holy Fire arrives from Jerusalem.



Suryani (Syriac-Aramean) pride on the morning of Sabt-an-Nur.

Greek Orthodox march celebrating the arrival of Holy Fire.

Syriac Orthodox scouts march on Holy Saturday.




Easter morning vigil, about 12.30 AM.

Easter Tuesday, celebrating the feast of Mar Dodo with customary rice pudding!

Learning unity from traditional scripture use?

On the basis of a presentation I recently gave on the materiality of scripture in Syriac Orthodox Christianity, Salim Munayer of Musalaha asked me for my thoughts on an exciting project in which he is involved: articulating a joint Palestinian Christian-Messianic Jewish hermeneutic of scripture.

It got me thinking. Bearing in mind the interminable contest over scriptural interpretation dividing Christian Zionists and their detractors, could the quite different approach to scripture of the historic churches inform an 'hermeneutic of reconciliation' between Palestinian Christians and Messianic Jews?
Scripture is highly venerated in the Syriac Orthodox Church.

First of all, Christian Zionist interpretation(s) may be viewed, at least from a Palestinian Christian perspective, as a kind of occupation of the textual territory, with clear political ramifications for the actual occupation of land. The response, a restatement of Christian orthodoxy, is therefore a kind of textual intifaḍa, seeking to shake off the heresy of Christian Zionism. To my mind this is legitimate and its claims to scripture are compelling.

Of course, to many Messianic Jews, they are not. The question is whether we must leave it at that, leaving this interpretative apartheid wall in place, leaving Messianic Jews and Palestinian Christians interpreting scripture in their hermetically sealed ghettos.

I hope not, and this is where an extension of the terrestrial analogy is useful. Recently I was talking to a Palestinian friend who gazed across at Gilo from Beit Jala and pointed out her grandfather's land. 'When they took the land within four weeks he had a heart attack and passed away,' she said sadly. This is a moral claim to the land which withstands the obtuse reduction of the issue to law. It is a claim based on having roots in the land rather than sovereignty over a territory.

Likewise, when Christians practice or perform scripture within the context of a liturgical tradition, the goal is not decisively settling its meaning, but upon worship, upon tilling scripture's often unyielding soil often regardless one's individual evaluation of the text. Furthermore, in some traditions such as the Syriac Orthodox, the performance of scripture takes place self-consciously alongside the saints and angels. Nothing could be further from the interpretative struggle, proceeding in the court of human reason, than the performance of scripture in the throne-room of God.

Thus I wonder whether radical difference can be embraced by adopting a first person posture toward the text, allowing scripture to be heard in the voice of a reconciled (Palestinian/Messianic) Christian corporate self, through the performance of it as worship. Would simply introducing a scripture performance element into the encounters of Messianic Jews with Palestinian Christians, exemplified perhaps in the camps run by Musalaha, achieve this?

Indeed, could performing psalms together, voicing the pain and hope of the 'songbook of humanity', create a united posture of humility for the other, more problematic passages of scripture?

And do you think I could do some ethnography on the groups that try it?