27 November 2013
The Alslivi family enjoys Sunday brunch. Refugees from Iraq, the family faced years of separation before finally reuniting in Sweden in 2008. “Everyone in the household still vividly remembers the hard times and radiates joy about their current circumstances,” wrote Anna Jonasson in the May 2011 issue of ONE. To learn more about the challenges facing Iraqi refugees in Sweden, check out A Nordic Refuge No More. (photo: Magnus Aronson)
26 November 2013
Tags: Iraq Refugees Unity Iraqi Refugees Sweden
In Egypt, a young girl does her schoolwork. Catholic institutions in Upper Egypt, such as this Jesuit-run school in Minya, are largely responsible for the growth of the Coptic Catholic Church. Read more about it in our profile from the September 2007 issue of ONE. (photo: Sean Sprague)
25 November 2013
Tags: Egypt Children Education Catholic education
Greek Catholic seminarians in Hungary find some free time for socializing. (photo: Tivadar Domaniczky)
In 2007, we got a rare glimpse inside a Greek Catholic seminary in Hungary:
An ordinary day at the seminary starts at 6 a.m. with prayer, private meditation and the Divine Liturgy, followed by a quick breakfast.
Seminarians attend classes at the handsome theological institute, located down the street from the seminary. Classes begin promptly at 8:30 a.m. In the 1970’s, the eparchy opened the institute, named for one of the first doctors of the church, St. Athanasius. The only theological institute in the region, it is affiliated with the Pontifical Oriental Institute in Rome.
Lunch is taken in the seminary refectory at 1 p.m. From 2 to 4 p.m., students study foreign languages (fluency in two is required), attend an occasional seminar, play a sport or relax. After a two-hour study period, there is a 15-minute biblical reflection before dinner at 7 p.m. From 8 to 8:30 p.m., the seminarians gather in the chapel, where the house spiritual director, Father Tamás Kruppa, suggests themes for each student to meditate on the next day.
At 10 p.m., it is silentium magnum: No speaking is permitted until breakfast the next morning. Lights are out at 11 p.m.
Once a month, a day of silent retreat — led by a priest invited by the seminary — breaks the regular schedule. Silence is the rule that day, even during meals. There is also a weeklong retreat, held at Máriapócs early in November, with many liturgies and devotions.
“It’s very good,” said Father Tamás Horváth, the prefect of the seminary, “but it’s hard for the boys to be quiet that long, just as it is for adults.”
Read more about what it takes To Be a Priest in the March 2007 issue of ONE.
22 November 2013
Tags: Seminarians Hungary Greek Catholic Church Eastern Catholics Hungarian Greek Catholic
In Kerala, an elderly resident of St. Athony’s House of Refuge recovers from an illness. (photo: Peter Lemieux)
Several years ago, we profiled the remarkable work of the Sisters of Nazareth in one corner of India:
At the rear of St. Antony’s House of Refuge in the village of Edakunnu, some 25 miles north of Kerala’s commercial center of Ernakulam, the twin bed in a private room reserved for hospice care is again occupied. The silk draperies dressing the small window are drawn. Caregivers move about deliberately. Visitors enter discreetly. With hushed voices, they say their last goodbyes to 90-year-old Mary P.M. Puthusey, holding the dying woman’s hand and caressing her gently.
As she is anointed with oil for the last time, an aura of sanctified calm fills this space of final respite. A silver cross hangs from the wooden bedpost above her head. Pinned to the opposite post is a laminated icon of the Virgin Mary. From another wall looms a calendar, dominated by an image of Jesus, which reads in big block letters, “I am the way, the truth, the life.”
These words have long been at the core of the dying woman’s being. She and the 43 remaining residents of St. Antony’s chose the religious life long ago in their early adulthood. Mary P.M. arrived in 1949, shortly after the Sisters of Nazareth, a congregation of the Syro-Malabar Catholic Church, established St. Antony’s for young women who, in the words of Father Augustine Thenayan, director of the Nazareth Institutions, “wanted to lead pious lives and become sisters, but who had no education.” Young no longer, the residents today are gray-haired, frail, often ill and dying one by one.
Hovering by the woman’s bedside is St. Antony’s resident caregiver, Mary P.L. Taking on a nurse’s role, Mary P.L. monitors the patient’s tubing, cleans her bedpan and adjusts her blanket. She rubs the back of Mary P.M.’s grieving younger sister and fellow resident, Rosakkutty. And, she spends countless hours sitting beside the dying woman, talking to her and praying with her for a “happy death.”
“As with all who have gone before her, I try to take away her pain and keep her as happy as can be,” explained Mary P.L. “God has given me this gift. I try to use it.”
Read more about Kerala’s Saving Grace in the July 2009 issue of ONE. And to learn how you can help continue good work in India, visit this giving page.
21 November 2013
Tags: India Sisters Caring for the Elderly
This 2006 photo depicts a street scene in the Gaza strip, a poor and crowded land with one of the highest population densities in the world. (photo: Steve Sabella)
In the January 2007 issue of ONE, Paul Watcher wrote about health and health care clinics in Gaza:
A study by Johns Hopkins University and Jerusalem’s Al Quds University, commissioned in 2002, found that nearly 20 percent of children under the age of 5 suffered from malnutrition while anemia affected more than half of women under 40, and 45 percent of children.
A year later, Al Quds et al. published the 2003 Nutritional Assessment of the West Bank and Gaza Strip, which compared its findings across years:
Comparisons of 2003 with 2002 median daily energy intakes demonstrate concerning trends:
In both age intervals, there is a significant decrease in median daily energy intakes: for 1-3 year olds, an 8.3 percent drop, for 4-5 year olds, a 13.2 percent drop [and as high as 19.2 percent in Gaza]
In stark contrast to 2002 and any other normally eating society, older children in the 2003 sample are consuming on average fewer calories than the younger children. Arguably this drop in daily calorie intake as children age is a marker for increasing food insecurity.
The State of Nutrition for the West Bank and Gaza Strip, published in 2005 by the Palestinian Authority’s Ministry of Health in association with the World Health Organization and UNICEF, included a chart further illustrating the relationship.
Time has passed, but this problem has not gone away. This 2010 UNICEF assessment observes that malnutrition rates “have been increasing since 1996, especially with respect to chronic malnutrition.” The WHO’s May 2012 report on health conditions in the occupied Palestinian territories agrees that these circumstances persist:
For malnutrition in children under five years, stunting (chronic malnutrition) is not improving and may be deteriorating. A high prevalence of anemia is revealed among women visiting prenatal services (39.1 percent of pregnant women in the Gaza Strip and 15.4 percent in the West Bank).
These problems are further exacerbated by factors such as the Israeli blockade and, as Al Jazeera discussed yesterday, “Egypt’s ongoing crackdown on the Gaza-Egypt underground tunnels,” which have supplied Gaza through much of said blockade.
Much remains to be done, and every small effort has the potential to change lives. To learn how you can help the people of Palestine through its churches and men and women religious, click here.
20 November 2013
Tags: Gaza Strip/West Bank Children Palestine Poor/Poverty Hunger
Father Jorge distributes blessed bread following the celebration of the Divine Liturgy in Honduras. (photo: Carina Wint)
In 2006, we visited a surprising corner of the world with a small but thriving Arab population — Central America:
Today, there are as many as 220,000 Arab-Hondurans. While they represent only 3 percent of the total population of 7.3 million people, they have had an outsized influence on the nation. They are most visible in business and only slightly less so in politics. Centro Social’s president, Juan Canahuati, a textile magnate with numerous other entrepreneurial activities, is considered the country’s top businessman. Coffee exporter and former Industry and Commerce Minister Oscar Kafati’s ancestors immigrated to Honduras in the late 19th century from Beit Jala, a Christian town adjacent to Bethlehem. Former President Carlos Flores Facusse’s mother came from Bethlehem.
Arab immigration to Latin America is not unique to Honduras nor are such success stories. To take just two prominent examples: former Argentine President Carlos Ménem (1989-1999) traces his roots to Syria; Mexico’s telecommunications titan, Carlos Slim Helu, the world’s third richest man, is of Lebanese descent.
Nearly all Arab-Hondurans claim Christian Palestinian origins, making the Arab-Honduran experience unique. Proportionally, there are more people of Palestinian descent in Honduras than any other Latin American country.
Arab Palestinians first came to Honduras in the 19th century, but the largest waves arrived after 1896, the year the Ottoman Turkish Empire, which then controlled Palestine, first allowed emigration. Numerous factors motivated the early emigrants. In 1909, the Ottomans included in the military draft Christians and Jews, who were once forbidden to serve, but required to pay tribute instead. Economic incentives also drove Arabs abroad. Tourism and commerce, areas in which many Christians worked, declined during World War I. And increasingly Palestine’s Arab Christians found themselves competing with the growing Jewish population, largely secular Zionist immigrants from Europe, in their entrepreneurial activities. Just as today, there seemed to be more opportunities for enterprising Arabs abroad.
But why Honduras?
Some researchers have suggested the earliest emigrants boarded ships without knowing their final destination. The choice of Honduras was not a choice at all; it was happenstance. But after conducting interviews in 1979 with many Arab-Hondurans, geographer William Crowley concluded that “many, and maybe the majority, of the early immigrants headed intentionally for Honduras.”
Most of the Arabs from Palestine who immigrated to Honduras were Orthodox. But until 1963, Honduras’s Orthodox community lacked a church, and by then many immigrants had joined the Catholic Church, the predominant Christian community in the country.
Today, the country’s only Orthodox parish, the Iglesia Ortodoxa de Antioquena San Juan Bautista in San Pedro Sula, serves more than 200 families. It is pastored by Father Jorge Faraj, a married priest whose grandparents came to Honduras from Beit Sahour, another Christian town near Bethlehem.
Father Jorge estimated that about 45 percent of Arab-Hondurans remain Orthodox, including a small number of Hondurans from Lebanon. “But I’m the only Orthodox priest, so it is difficult for me to serve the entire country,” he said.
While most Arab-Hondurans live in San Pedro Sula, there are also large numbers in Tegucigalpa and other cities. “These cities don’t have their own Orthodox parishes, and I can visit them only so often,” said the priest. “So, these people tend to attend Catholic churches. But then, they’ll come to San Pedro Sula for a visit, and they’ll always come to an Orthodox service here.”
Read more in Middle Eastern, Central American Style in the September 2006 issue of ONE.
19 November 2013
Tags: Cultural Identity Palestinians Immigration Arabs
A seminarian walks down the corridor of the St. Athanasius Greek Catholic Theological Institute in Hajdúdorog, Hungary. As part of its mission, the institute provides seminarians and lay students an education in both the Byzantine and Latin rites. To learn about life as a seminarian in Hungary, read Jacqueline Ruyak’s To Be a Priest, from the March 2007 issue of ONE. (photo: Tivadar Domaniczky)
18 November 2013
Tags: Eastern Christianity Seminarians Hungary Greek Catholic Church Hungarian Greek Catholic
A young couple is married in the church of the ancient Gelati Monastery in Georgia. Dedicated to the Virgin Mary, the church was built by King David the Builder in the 12th century. You can find more pictures of the monastery here, and read about Michael La Civita’s journey through the Caucasus here and here. (photo: Michael La Civita)
15 November 2013
Tags: Cultural Identity Village life Eastern Christianity Georgia Eastern Europe
In Ethiopia, school meals greatly improve concentration among students, such as Teklit Gebru of Sebeya. To read more about efforts to feed the hungry in Ethiopia, check out Hungry to Learn in the Autumn issue of ONE. And visit our Ethiopia giving page to learn how you can help. (photo: Petterik Wiggers)
14 November 2013
Tags: Ethiopia Children Education ONE magazine Hunger
An Armenian farmer in Anjar, Lebanon, displays some of his produce. (photo: Armineh Johannes)
In 2002, we profiled Lebanon’s “Little Armenia,” which includes the Beirut suburb of Bourj Hammoud and the rural town of Anjar in the Bekaa Valley region, some 60 miles to the northeast.
In Anjar, this transplant community of farmers was able to live off their allotted land for decades. However, recent times have brought new challenges:
Overlooking the Mediterranean, on the slope of Musa Dagh (Mount Moses), a stone’s throw from the Syrian border, more than 5,000 Armenians from six villages, were flushed from their homes by the Turks. …
Finally, in September 1939, with the help of the French Navy, they were relocated to the rugged, dry land of Anjar, in Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley. While awaiting the construction of 1,000 single-room homes, these refugees lived for two years in tents. During the first months of their exile, malnutrition and malaria caused the death of some 500 Armenians. …
Despite the rugged climate of Anjar, the Armenians learned to work the land as they had back in Musa Dagh. In addition to 5,400 square yards of residential land, each family was allotted 9,360 square yards of agricultural land. …
“Once the lands were distributed, each family received 110 pounds of wheat for planting,” he adds. “We were able to make a living.”
“Today, I am unable to earn a living,” laments Boghos Taslakian, who is 77. “I sell my cabbages for 10 cents a pound at the market. In reality, agriculture has reached a dead end in Lebanon. My children are no longer interested — they don’t even know the exact location of the family farm. The majority of the youngsters are attracted by other activities, such as jewelry making.”
In order to make ends meet, farmers must take on other activities. After working as a farmer for more than 60 years, Assadour Makhoulian was forced to open a small supermarket in the village. Today his son operates it.
Read the rest in the July 2002 issue of our magazine.
Tags: Lebanon Cultural Identity Armenian Apostolic Church Farming/Agriculture Armenian Catholic Church