Sunday mornings are usually routine for most young men in the Coptic community: showing up to church early to get “dressed” as a deacon, no matter your rank. Most of us are chanters or psalters. However, since the pandemic, there are less deacons dressing and showing up to church. So, what does the typical lifestyle of a deacon in our church look like? What are the conversations that are had amongst the “homies” or “the home” as one puts it?
I joined the diaconate for a greater enhancement of my spirituality at around 22. I had grown fervent in the Church and found solace in the burning of incense, the reading of the psalms, and the chanting of the gospel. However, as it became routine for me and many deacons alike, the spiritual monotony dawned on me, but that was no fault of others. Nonetheless, I noticed that aside from the legitimate patriarchal hierarchy from the Church to the laity, the deacon was the middle liaison between the two. The Deacon had a specific role in the Coptic community as that liaison, whether it be administering to the flock alongside the priest with the gifts of the Holy Sacraments, or home visitations to the congregation to provide a word of hope in times of hardship.
But what much of the community fails to see is that there is this unspeakable culture that revolves around the diaconate, at least in much of the North American diaspora. There is a semblance of a “Boys’ Club” mentality in the diaconate. Some of our earliest and closest friends evolve from the relationships cultivated from the diaconate, and these gentlemen could end up being our best friends, our greatest motivators, or our worst enemies.
Oftentimes, we are told as (Orthodox) Christians that our lives at Church shouldn’t be separate from our lives at home. A notion of separation of church and state should not exist for us as Christians. But there is a distinct separation of that culture and community, and it could most certainly be seen from within the structure of the diaconate. Now of course, there are broad generalizations in what I have depicted, but there still stands the reality of the lack of understanding that these “assumptions,” if you will, hold true. The Coptic community and the deacons are not immune from these conversations of proper decorum inside and outside of the (C)church. The main difference is that when you choose to become ordained or tonsured as a deacon, you are elevated to a pedestal and your actions—both positive and negative—are highlighted and reflected upon the community. Now, if you have chosen to have that be your path, it unfortunately comes with the territory of being a deacon.
The notion of a “Boys’ Club” then takes root. The conversations of what deacons, young men, and former deacons have on a regular Sunday afternoon have become incredibly revealing of the personalities that prevail in the community. This brings forth the perpetuation of machismo culture, or what we know as toxic masculinity, within the Coptic deacon community. The conversations often never really follow, “How can we encourage this brother of ours to forego the use of drugs or drinking, etc.?” Rather, the conversations are about how we belittle the barista at Coffee Bean for sounding too effeminate as a man, assuming his gender and assuming his sexual orientation, simply to get a kick out of the admonishment of another human being. Meanwhile you stand as the lead deacon who served in the altar that Sunday.
In these conversations there is a failure of holding our diaconate brothers accountable. Often the banter revolves around sports culture and rating females 1-10, which further bleeds into the conversations that we are having (or not having) with the young men in our community. The conversations that are considered “taboo” in our culture: conversations around pornography and rape culture which are left to our Sunday School teachers to be had since the responsibility is placed on them.
However, this does not dismiss the fact that, needless to say, the perception of one person’s actions reflect on the entirety of the community. Even when there is a congregant who has been largely absent from the church community for a decade (or more), the implications of one’s actions reverberate throughout the entire community and diaspora.
But who and where is the blame placed upon? Is this embedded or inherent in our culture? As we see it currently being exposed in parallel with the masses of women in Egypt who are catcalled and assaulted, the truth is… it starts at home.
The case of Ahmed Bassem Zaki is not much different from that of Peter Guirguis. Zaki’s case mirrors much of what took place with then USF student Guirguis. But the excuse that our culture and diaspora makes is that it is the women that need to learn the lesson or be protected.
“My son would never do that! He was raised in the church.” or “Talk to the Sunday School servants and ask them why they didn’t work harder to help him.”
These were some of the comments made by other Coptic mothers, parents, and grandparents when Coptic Twitter blew up last week with the formidable accusations against a then USF student now alum named Peter Guirguis. Guirgus’ actions have come to light with many young women, who were also students at USF, coming forward. In speaking with two of the victims, who wished to not be named, they revealed that when they went to seek help from one of the associated fraternity brothers, they were shocked to only be further exposed and harassed by the assailant and his friends. The count after that interview rose to 11 women, all students from USF.
In speaking with other young Copts from the Florida region, I inquired as to whether they knew of or associated with Peter Guirguis. I was told he attended St. Verena, but only by association. “He never really stuck around. He was always the black sheep. He only showed up to play basketball a few times, but he didn’t really talk to anyone at church.” (For safety reasons I am not revealing the names of those interviewed unless they have mentioned otherwise.)
All too often this same exact sentiment of the associated church attendee can result in them becoming the assailant or the victim of their own demise.
This often places an onus on the Church and the church community, Sunday School servants, priests, and deacons alike. As if it were, that one or even two-hour interaction on a weekly basis is thought to have much more of a significant impact on the lives and conversations had with our young men. The unfortunate reality is that those within the Coptic community, associated or not, are a reflection of the church and their associations.
In speaking with “The Incognito Show“ podcast host Beshoi Wahba, he provides a similar sentiment beyond this notion of education for the young men in our diaspora. Beshoi has led a conference in the Southern United States Diocese with the blessing of His Grace Bishop Youssef, in which this conference is directed specifically toward the young men and their struggles with these taboo topics in our community. He has held this conference over the last 4 years mentioning that “it can’t just be the Church’s responsibility to educate our young men how to be genuine human beings.” He goes on to say “that weekly interaction isn’t enough to continue to dialogue or keep these young men engaged. This is why we have these conferences.”
It certainly is not enough, however, for our Sunday School servants alone, even when the onus is placed, to raise decent young men who will not rape or be complacent with rape culture.
After investigating the assaults of Peter Guiguis and interviewing his victims, who have made reports, filed restraining orders, purchased burner phones and even moved to court cases, the University left to dismiss the cases of one specific victim due to their graduating student status. Much of these allegations were dismissed by the State University System of Florida, abandoning these eleven vulnerable young women with haunting memories of the incidents as this issue gains momentum through social media. Some are more than willing to discuss their trauma, while some are only wanting to expose him by name.
With what has come to light with the recent murder and disappearance of Vanessa Guillen: Vanessa was a 20-year-old soldier stationed in Fort Hood, TX who went missing on April 22, a week after her rape, and was killed to prevent her potentially exposing or reporting her rape to her commanding officers. This was a soldier in one of the highest respected offices and she was sexually assaulted and killed for wanting to report her abuse. Imagine now, the 11 women who were sexually assaulted or raped by a young college fraternity brother and reported these incidents were left nothing to feel vindicated.
It is not enough to hold the church leaders and deacons accountable for their lack of inaction of directly speaking on these “taboo” topics, but it should be the onus of the community to no longer stigmatize the victims and their reality. Our community can very well be the place of blame for the assaults of the 11 USF students and alumnae. These 11 women could have very well been like Vanessa Guillen. We should not wait until they are.
Just because we are Coptic does not mean we are immune to the world’s problems. If our community wants to right these very deeply integrated wrongs, then our community, church included, needs to directly address these issues and not through the privy of just conferences. Normalize the discussions, not the actions or behaviors, but normalize exposing the faults in our community, which includes the double standards we place on married couples and domestic abuse as well.
This is for the young men in our community, the deacons and the laity: Step up to be held accountable and hold your brothers equally accountable, not just for their actions, but for the things they say in the conversations you have: not just inside the church, but what you say in conversation shortly after. Get rid of the “Boys’ Club” mentality.
The 11 sexual assault victims were only protected as far as they could be by the State University System of Florida. It is not enough to say we need to protect our daughters, we need more than that. We need to believe them.
Peter Aziz
