Egyptian Desert Blooms With Christian Monasteries

Dressed in the flowing black robe of his 1,600-year-old tradition, Father Agathon casually reaches for a ringing cellular phone tucked in his pocket.

He is quick to hand out his business card, printed in English and Arabic, and nonchalantly volunteers a fax number.

The Internet? Don’t get him started.

Father Agathon is a monk, an initiate of a tradition born in Egypt’s deserts in the 4th century who is at ease with the accouterments of modern-day society.

In a stunning revival, he and hundreds of others have helped transform their monasteries--the world’s oldest--from lonely outposts on the verge of extinction into pilgrimage sites, retreats and modern communities that play an important role for Egypt’s Christian minority.

Eleven of the 12 major monasteries have seen their numbers grow dramatically, some witnessing a tenfold increase in just 20 years. The rush has forced abbots to turn initiates away. Those who do enter are remarkable for their education: doctors, dentists, engineers, businessmen.

While the growth of Islamic activism captures attention in Egypt, a phenomenon in many ways parallel but less visible has emerged among the country’s Christians. They account for 10% of the population and belong mainly to the Coptic church, an indigenous Orthodox church that traces its origins back to St. Mark.

Coptic Christians have become targets for extremist Muslims, but the monasteries are largely away from towns, where the radicals are active, and have not been attacked. A few monasteries are even revered by some Muslims as holy sites.

Their revival in the desert is the most tangible sign of a growing Christian fervor, encouraged by a resurgent church as an answer to society’s materialism.

“We’re looking for the holy life. We’re looking for a place in paradise,” a sunburnt Father Deuscoros said. “Outside everyone is running for money, looking for money. But here you are free.”

Deuscoros is one of 66 monks at St. Anthony’s Monastery, a desert redoubt near the Red Sea renowned as the world’s first. It was founded by disciples of its namesake, one of the earliest and most influential hermits, who died in AD 356.

Nestled against a jagged, barren mountain, it is surrounded by stretches of scraggly terrain once inhabited by leopards and wolves. The monastery was so isolated that only a monthly camel caravan supplied it. Visitors were pulled up by rope and a basket over the wall that kept out marauding Bedouins.

Some of the monks, practicing a vow of poverty, obedience and chastity, lived for years on bread and water in nearby caves.

Today, a two-lane ribbon of asphalt connects the monastery to the outside world, turning what once was a three-day journey into an afternoon drive. The monks have set up guest houses for the hundreds of visitors who come to see the churches, flour mill, garden and spring.

St. Anthony’s has four times as many monks as it did 20 years ago, most of them educated men in their 30s and 40s.

“We are like a candle in the darkness,” said Deuscoros, who left his job at a Cairo bank to become a monk 13 years ago.

The Coptic church recruits its patriarch and bishops from the monasteries, and some monks are sent to serve in churches elsewhere in Egypt and abroad.

Their vow is a lifetime obligation--they give up their names, grow beards and don a black robe as part of a spiritual rebirth.

Prayers start as early as 4 a.m. and work can last until the evening. The monks’ soft chants can sometimes be heard outside, fading into the Muslim call to prayer in nearby villages.

The revival is not just in numbers. The monasteries themselves have undergone a revolution as younger and more educated monks experiment with agriculture and animal husbandry, introducing new crops and breeds of cattle to their neighbors.

The Monastery of St. Macarius, in a desert valley west of Cairo known as Wadi Natrun, is the best example.

In 1969, the Coptic church ordered a priest and 12 monks to leave their desert caves and settle at the crumbling monastery. They rebuilt the compound, a stunning clash of Islamic, Byzantine and modern styles, and greatly expanded the grounds.

The monks now number 105, many of them engineers, veterinarians or agricultural specialists. They grow watermelons, wheat, olives, dates and bananas on 1,000 acres reclaimed from the desert. Farm buildings house cows, sheep and poultry, and a printing press publishes a monthly magazine.

Not uncommon is the sight of a bearded monk in black robe and hat driving a tractor with farmhands on back.

“Worship must be an investment,” said Father Yohanna. “The religious life shows itself in work, not in words.”