Coptic Tattoos in Egypt
A response to my previous article, As a Christian, should I Praise the Name of Allah?
I hoped Egypt would provide more answers on how to worship God with more authenticity, informed by context as to how people in other societies apply the gospel to their lives. Instead, I have more questions, inspired by some unforeseen experiences.
Boldness is a word that comes to mind when considering Christians in Egypt.
The Church in Egypt, particularly the growing Evangelical Church, and of course the deeply rooted Coptic tradition, is increasingly persecuted — particularly by Islamic extremism. Visiting the home of one prominent Pastor in one region of Egypt, I was surprised by the level of security outside his home. Attending any Church, especially if it was a monastery, saw me interviewed intensely by [Christian] security guards, with my passport held during the duration of my visit. On one occasion I stayed longer to pray, and the security came to find where I was. People reminded me frequently that this was for my security — and it goes without saying, the security of the Christian community too. But if me as foreigner gathered this much ‘protection’, then what was it like for the people who lived their lives everyday?
The vast majority of Coptic Christians have a tattoo. It is as much tradition as it is a form of ID. It distinguishes them from, in all honestly, the Muslims. Their act is bold because it cannot be removed, which could attract certain attention if visiting other Islamic nations, or God forbid, if they face a form of religious extremism.
Whilst being a minority, and facing semi-regular pressure to convert to Islam (particularly when travelling to other areas of the Middle-East), many Coptics I met had amicable relationships with their Muslim friends. Many Muslims would welcome me as a “brother” — albeit one that should aspire to ‘progress’ through conversion.
Even though Christianity has its place in Egypt, Islam remains continuously present.
On most microbuses or larger buses, the Quran can be heard playing in the background. Admittedly, I find the sound quite beautiful. As explored in a previous article, when translating the Islamic call to prayer, it can prompt even a Christian to remember the ‘greatness of God’ and begin to worship. On one such bus journey, travelling east along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea from Alexandria, I heard the Quran talking about Jesus (or ‘Isa’). I recognised the name of Jesus and felt peace. I asked the person next to me what part of the Quran the verse was referencing, and it was indeed Sura Al-Ma’idah 5:116-5:117. Forgetting the context and theology of the verses listed, I cannot deny the fact that hearing the name of Jesus acknowledged and proclaimed aloud on a bus prompted me to open my bible and pray.
Despite distinguishing themselves with tattoos, I was surprised to hear Christians say “inshallah” (ان شاء الله / God willing) or “alhamd Allah” (الحمد لله / Thank God). So, should I feel comfortbale praising the name of Allah in the Arabic langauge as a Christian? The example of Coptic Egyptians says yes. However, I should note that I rarely heard them exclaim “Allah ‘akbar” (الله أكبر / God is great). Even so, the proclamation of God, despite theological differences, can performed as a shared moment of praise for both Christians and Muslims in the Egyptian cultural context. This statement is certainly an oversimplification that generalises harmony to an area of the world that has seen much religious persecution, however, to my Western eye, the act of sharing a moment of prayer toward God linguistically, despite differences of religion, is very powerful and should be known by Western Christians who sometimes seem to be solely focused on making themselves different from Muslims in any way possible, rather than finding solace and peace in small yet beautiful moments of shared prayer.
Again, rather than having less questions, I now have more. Is the stirring of my faith in Jesus when hearing the call to prayer or certain Islamic verses just a shallow mental association, or does it reflect a deeper yearning that is perhaps acknowledgeable by Muslims too? (This question is not supposed to cause controversy, but rather, reflect on the significance of Jesus in Islamic text for Muslims in comparison to its perception by Christians.) Furthermore, how can the boldness of Christians in Islamic countries convict how I express my own faith? Lastly, are any of these outward symbols — tattoos or simply hearing the name of Jesus — significant or important in light of the simplicity and power of the gospel?
Egypt holds one of the most ancient civilisations on Earth, and two of the world’s largest religious groups. The inevitable dance of Islam and Christianity produces a hidden tension that risks violence and terror, however mostly when politics is left out, harmony remains possible. This is signified by the presence of both a Church and Mosque at the top of Mount Sinai.
