I set out this summer to begin dissertation fieldwork on the question of Coptic Orthodox Christian encounters with the miraculous in Egypt, an endeavor funded in part by the Center for Middle Eastern Studies. Although I used the summer funds I received from CMES to buy a digital camera and a digital audio recorder, I provide here a summary of the questions I had going into the field and a reflection on the work that I have begun to do.

Summary of Research Questions and Goals

I have generally been struck with how pervasive the talk of miracles is among Copts.  Young, old, rich, poor, clergy, and lay, Copts are engaged in a discourse and set of encounters with the miraculous.  What constitutes the miraculous (cajaybi in Arabic), for whom, and when?  What is at stake for those Copts who perceive their world as alive with miracles (mucjiza pl. mucjizat)?  Does a study of the miraculous only illuminate conceptions of vulnerability and weakness among a people (Stewart 1991:91), or is there more to it?  My hypothesis is that the investment in miracles is as much about personal experience and “spiritual transformation” (Wiegele 2005:15) as it is about being a member of a large political, economic, and religious network comprised of saints and other Copts (Orsi 2005). Perhaps Coptic investments in the miraculous are also a matter of making claims on their place within a larger, predominantly Muslim, Egyptian society.

A central premise of my study is that one of the keys to comprehending Coptic Orthodox Christian practice and religious expression is to understand the emphasis Copts place on the miraculous. More specifically, I propose that one way to begin thinking about the miraculous among Copts is to consider a notion of “mystery” that captures the kind of paradoxical experience that I believe underlies encounters with the miraculous. Coupled with this must be a close examination of the use of material objects that often serve as vehicles for the miraculous. Indeed, the very pivot of my research is the dynamic interaction of mystery and materiality among Coptic Orthodox Christians.

Summer Work

Having had previous experience and connections in Egypt, I more-or-less hit the ground running.  In the three months that I have now been in Egypt I have been exploring various approaches to conducting my fieldwork. I visited numerous churches, attended church services, sermons, and retreats. I visited monasteries, spending several consecutive days in one monastery, and conversed with monks and nuns about my research interests.  I have also visited with numerous Copts throughout Cairo and Alexandria.  All of this allowed me to have a sense of the diversity of the Coptic community and some of the debates around the miraculous. At least three important points have come out of these explorations: 1) The miraculous is not a simple matter; what constitutes a “real” miracle was often debated and I was, on numerous occasions, informed that my duty as a scholar is to make the distinction between true and false miracles. 2) One coherent definition of “miracle” does not exist among Copts. In fact, I found that many Copts have a series of categories that they use to talk about the events in their lives.  Some events are interpreted as miraculous, others as tadbir rubbina, or the “economia of our Lord.” 3) There are many Copts, including monks and nuns who I perceive as pious and religiously committed people, who are highly skeptical of much of the talk about the miraculous within the church.  They argue that a “real” miracle is one that has a discernable goal, namely that it moves a person to change her life for the better.  Real miracles, according to this line of thinking, are not necessarily those events that challenge the laws of nature, but are, rather, the significant life changes that some people make, particularly as they move closer to God.  I have much more research to do along these lines.

Materiality

During the summer months I have also made note of the role that materiality plays in Coptic interactions with the holy and the miraculous.  It seems to me that there is no such interaction that does not involve some material object or other.  In fact, the very notion of “taking” baraka (a kind of blessing) is such that one has to absorb this mystical energy/force physically.  This means being
physically present in a place of holiness, or otherwise touching holiness.  Holiness is touched by virtue of one kissing the bones of a saint or touching them with one’s hand, or kissing and touching the images of saints (Photos I and II). 

Photo I
Taking Baraka from the saint Baba Kyrillos (Cyril) VI (on curtain), Pope of the Coptic Church (1959-1971). Today this former Pope is celebrated widely by Copts as a great saint.

Photo II
Women venerate Bishop of Fayyum, Abraam (bishop 1881-1914). Here they pray to him while touching the reliquary where his body is housed.

Oil, water, incense, bones, images, vestments, and a whole host of other objects are incorporated in the movement of baraka.  The very presence of a priest in one’s home is often talked about as baraka, and the touching of a priest’s vestments as he passes one by in church is considered a means of capturing baraka.  Regarding this matter, however, I am a bit apprehensive about taking it completely at face value.  To what extent is talk about baraka just talk?  When people use a specific kind of language to talk about something do they really mean what they are saying, or have they simply come to speak about the world in a particular idiom that does not necessarily have a deeper meaning than simply the way in which someone articulates something?  For example, Egyptians, and Arabic speakers in general, often use the phrase insha’ Allah, or God willing, when discussing matters of the future.  Yet, all Arabic speakers know that this phrase does not always mean that the speaker sincerely means that if God so wills that I visit you tomorrow then I will.  Rather, the phrase is not uncommonly used to kindly refuse an offer or to say “no” without having to utter the word.  In short, I have learned that part of my investigation should be to explore to what extent the miraculous and baraka have come to be idiomatic ways of talking about the world.  But even if people have come to talk about the world in a way that incorporates enchantment and may not always mean what they say, I have a hunch that one is always waiting for a miracle.  And the interaction with holiness through material things is one route toward the miraculous.

Among the most challenging aspects of this fieldwork has been methodology.  While I take each encounter I have with Copts as important and potentially useful for the research, I continue to struggle with how I might better systematize the work.  For example, should I locate myself in one specific parish for a lengthy period of time, getting to know people within that parish community, and to explore how these particular people think about and encounter the miraculous?  Or do I travel to various places around Cairo and Egypt in order to broaden the scope of the research? 
Somehow it seems to me that trying to combine these two approaches will bear the most, and hopefully the best, fruit.  In fact, just last week I managed to meet a priest (who initially approached my wife and I to kick us out of the church, as apparently he thought that we were milling around—I guess we were), at a church near my home that was the site of a Virgin Mary apparition in the spring of 1968 (Church of the Virgin Mary in Zaytun).  This priest agreed to have me join his congregation, becoming a regular participating member while also conducting research for my dissertation. 

Finally, the equipment that I purchased using the CMES funds has been extremely useful for documenting my various travels around Egypt, as well as recording numerous conversations.  I now have a collection of photographs that document various aspects of Egyptian life, with specific emphasis on things Coptic.
In sum, as confused as I have often felt during the preliminary months of my research, when I reflect back I believe that I have made some headway into the research and will continue to push on, hoping that with time methodology as well as the central focus of the project will both become more refined. Perhaps I, too, am waiting for a miracle.

Works Cited

Orsi, Robert
2005 Between Heaven and Earth. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Stewart, Charles
1991 Demons and the Devil: Moral Imagination in Modern Greek Culture. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Wiegele, Katherine
2005 Investing in Miracles: El Shaddai and the Transformation of Popular Catholicism in the Philippines. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press.