A Good Easter Moment

 The Melkite Catholic Church in Kerak, Jordan   

As Catholics, Mike and I have always attended the services in the Holy Week leading up to Easter Sunday. This year, we were in Jordan.

 “Any chance we can attend a service in a Catholic church on Thursday or Friday?” I asked Wael, our tour guide.

“Friday, we’ll be in the ruins of Petra. No church there. But Thursday, yes, it’s possible. I will take you to the Catholic church in Kerak.”

Thursday evening, Wael took us to the 6 p.m. Catholic service in Kerak. To my surprise, the car stopped in front of a big white building with several onion-shaped domes, each topped with a cross, which reminded me of Orthodox churches. I realized Wael had taken us to a Catholic church where the Eastern rites were practiced, as distinguished from Roman Catholic churches in North America, Europe and elsewhere practicing the Latin rites. Not a problem for Mike and me, since we could not be choosers under the circumstance. A Catholic church is a Catholic church, regardless of the rites and rituals. I was later to find out from the Internet that the church belonged to the Melkite Catholic Church, one in full union with the Roman Catholic Church.

The parish priest, Father Boulos, gave us a warm welcome at the gate, and took us into the church. Since we still had several hours’ of driving to reach our hotel that night, Wael had told Father Boulos that we would have to leave at 7:30 p.m., before the service ended.

The church was packed. We took our seats at the front, by a side door to the right of the altar, so we could make our exit easily. The service, understandably in Arabic, began with lots of dry chanting, and praying. At intervals, Father Boulos would walk to the front center of the altar. Two members of the congregation would go up to him, facing the altar, their backs to the people, bow their heads, and the priest would support the lectionary on their bowed heads and necks, and read seemingly for the longest time from there.

“I pity their poor necks! I’m glad we don’t have to do this in our own churches,” I whispered to Mike.

At the end of each reading, there was candle lighting and more singing and praying. This process was repeated many times, such that I soon sensed the rhythm of the service.

Then, a funny thing happened. With his back to the people, from where he stood at the altar, Father Boulos turned his head sideways to the right and slightly behind him. He signaled in our direction with his eyes and head, as though to say, “Get going: it’s 7:30.”

We stupidly stood our ground at first, not sure if he was actually looking at us. I finally got his message, and was about to leave with Mike, when an usher not far from us, who had already served as a bookstand earlier in the service, came up and gestured to Mike and me to take our turns at the altar, probably interpreting Father Boulos’ signal to be an invitation to us to go out there. And so, with the whole congregation singing, with all eyes on us, we found ourselves standing with bowed heads, the big heavy Book resting on our necks, while Father Boulos read in Arabic the Word of God. 

And that was a very special Easter moment.      

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See my photos of Jordan posted in the Travel - Jordan section of the website.