By Providence
Amanda Achtman & Bawai Soro
Recently, Philos Project Canada Chapter President Amanda Achtman sat down with Bishop Bawai Soro, an Iraqi Christian leader serving Canada’s approximately 40,000 Chaldean Catholics. Bishop Soro is passionate about exploring the common heritage of Iraqi Jews and Iraqi Christians. In this interview, Achtman spoke with Bishop Soro about some of the shared patrimony, the Jewish roots of the Chaldean liturgy, and how, surprising as it may sound to some, Middle Eastern Christians can help combat antisemitism.
Amanda Achtman & Bawai Soro
Recently, Philos Project Canada Chapter President Amanda Achtman sat down with Bishop Bawai Soro, an Iraqi Christian leader serving Canada’s approximately 40,000 Chaldean Catholics. Bishop Soro is passionate about exploring the common heritage of Iraqi Jews and Iraqi Christians. In this interview, Achtman spoke with Bishop Soro about some of the shared patrimony, the Jewish roots of the Chaldean liturgy, and how, surprising as it may sound to some, Middle Eastern Christians can help combat antisemitism.
Achtman: Tell me about yourself and what led you
to where you are now.
Soro: I was born in Kirkuk, Iraq, and baptized at Saint George
Assyrian Church of the East. My parents and I then moved to Baghdad where they
gave me a religious upbringing. At age 19, I was ordained a deacon in the
Assyrian Church. In 1973, sensing the instability of the future, my family
emigrated to Beirut, Lebanon, on their way to Australia. But in 1974, matters
got complicated because a civil war began in Lebanon. My family then returned
to Iraq, but I couldn’t. I became a refugee in Lebanon and ultimately left for
the United States, settling in Chicago in 1976.
In 1982, I was ordained a priest for the Assyrian Church in
Toronto and, in 1984, was chosen to become the Assyrian Church bishop of San
Jose. I pursued a master’s in theology at the Catholic University of America in
1992, and then a doctorate in ecclesiology from the Angelicum in Rome in 2002.
Then, in 2008, I, along with 3,000 faithful in the US and Australia, entered in
full communion with the Catholic Church. In 2017, I was appointed a diocesan
bishop of the Chaldean Church in Canada by the Holy Father, Pope Francis.
My Episcopal See is now in Toronto at the Good Shepherd Chaldean
Catholic Cathedral. We provide liturgical services and spiritual guidance to
3,000 families in Chaldean, English, and Arabic. Considering everything, during
my service of 36 years of episcopal ministry for both the Assyrian Church and
the Chaldean Church, I have strived to promote church unity between Assyrian
and Chaldean churches, mainly by attempting to eliminate hostilities or
divisions among all Iraqi Christians.
Achtman: What do Iraqi Jews and Iraqi Christians
have in common? Does anyone care about or even recognize this common
background? Why do you think it matters, and why do you find it meaningful?
Soro: Iraqi Jews and Iraqi Christians have a strong relationship
and a lot in common, perhaps more than many other adherents of any two distinct
religious communities. According to biblical tradition, this relationship
starts with Abram, the “Exalted Father,” who was a Mesopotamian-Iraqi, a native
of the Sumerian city of Ur of the Chaldees. We know from the Bible that Abram
had a religious transformation. God called him to leave Ur and settle in the
land of Canaan—a promised land that God gave to him and his posterity. Abram
obeyed. He left Ur to Haran with his wife Sarai, his nephew Lot, and then to
Shechem in Canaan across the Euphrates, thus attaining the appellation “Hebrew”
(i.e., “those who have crossed over”). God changed Abram’s name to Abraham, and
he became the founder of the special relationship and covenant between God and
his people, thus initiating a new age for the “People of God” in their Promised
Land.
Judaism, as the first monotheistic religion, begins with Abraham
and the Jewish people and becomes fulfilled by the life, ministry, and passion
of Jesus of Christ, and Christianity. For the Jews, Abraham is their father
both physically and religiously. He holds a paramount position in their thought
because it is due to his faith in God that his descendants will be saved. But
Abraham, the forefather of the Jewish people, came from Mesopotamia, which
meant that somehow Mesopotamia was a “home” for them, as well. After numerous
exiles, which resulted in the Jews actually establishing a home in Mesopotamia
for more than a millennium, they enjoyed life in large numbers within large
territory under circumstances much better than their fellow Jews in Palestine
or elsewhere. Since the social, religious, and economic conditions of the
Jewish people in Mesopotamia over a long period of time became established,
prosperous, and widespread, it is incomprehensible to assume that these people
could have vanished or simply ceased to exist. And, given the longstanding
indigenous Christian presence in the region, the same was thought of
Christians, too.
Achtman: In the Chaldean liturgy, the
congregation prays, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord, Almighty God. Heaven and
earth are full of his glory. Hosanna in the highest. Hosanna to the Son of
David.” And, during the Eucharistic Prayer, after the priest says, “Lift up
your thoughts,” the people respond, “To you, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel,
the king of glory.” What do you think when you pray this? And does the
community realize the Jewish sources throughout the mass?
Soro: For me, when the congregation prays, “Holy, holy, holy is
the Lord,” it is like I am in Jerusalem with the multitude of Jews who received
and welcomed the Messiah in the Holy City. Furthermore, there is no other way
to understand the human connection of Jesus apart from his relationship with
King David. Isn’t this what the Gospel of Matthew tells us? And, as a Christian
believer, the God I worship cannot be other than “the God of Abraham, Isaac,
and Israel” whom our father in faith Abraham preached about in Ur and in
Canaan, and who, at the fulfillment of time, was fully revealed in the Person,
life, preaching, passion, and Resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
This Abrahamic appellation is not unique to the Chaldean liturgy.
The Roman Catholic Church calls Abraham “our father in faith” in the
Eucharistic Prayer of the Roman Canon, recited during the Latin Mass.
Unfortunately, I don’t think the common Iraqi Christian shares the same
understanding of history and theological nuances. Two reasons come to mind:
lack of religious training and living for a long time in a culture that is
characterized by its tendencies to antisemitism, particularly in Middle Eastern
countries. And so, the duty of the church is to explain the history of
Christianity and to teach its theology in order to spread the true apostolic teaching
of the early church that is based on the virtues of the Gospel.
Achtman: I heard you say during a homily once
that “the Church existed before Christ; it’s called Judaism.” Do you think this
surprises Iraqi Christians to hear? And how are Christians to understand modern
Judaism considering this comment?
Soro: Christ was a Jew who read and preached on the Torah and the
Prophets. He prayed at the synagogue and, as required by Jewish Law, he
fulfilled his religious obligation every year at the Temple in Jerusalem. Jesus
said, “Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I have not
come to abolish them but to fulfill them” (Mt. 5:17). The mere advent of Jesus
into this world was a fulfillment of God’s promise in the Torah and the
Prophets. This way, Christianity (the One Holy Catholic Apostolic Church)
becomes the one and the same, the consequence and the fulfillment of Judaism
(which is based on the Covenant between God and Abraham). Separation between
the two is destruction of Providence.
Many Iraqi Christians are yet to be updated by what the Church
Councils in the twentieth century have taught about Judaism. At the Second
Vatican Council in 1965, the Catholic Church repudiated the belief in the
collective Jewish guilt for the crucifixion of Jesus, stating, “True, the
Jewish authorities and those who followed their lead pressed for the death of
Christ; still, what happened in his passion cannot be charged against all the
Jews, without distinction, then alive, nor against the Jews of today” (Nostra
Aetate 4). In fact, Eastern and Western Christian spiritualities blame the
crucifixion of Jesus on every Christian who sins, because Jesus took the Cross
precisely and solely to redeem us from our sins.
Achtman: Do you think antisemitism is a problem
among the Middle Eastern Christian community? To what extent does the modern State
of Israel impact how Middle Eastern Christians view modern Judaism? And do
Middle Eastern Christians have any sense of the Jewish diaspora community with
whom they live as neighbors in Canada?
Soro: Yes, I do think it is a problem. I myself was raised in Iraq
in the 1950s and ’60s to be a person critical and fearful of the State of
Israel. Such political doctrine was instilled in the minds of schoolboys and
girls since childhood. Plus, the anti-Jewish material in church literature and
liturgical texts made the case for loving Judaism and the Jewish people, if not
impossible, then surely very difficult.
But leaving Iraq at a young age and living in the United States
for decades changed everything. Attending higher Catholic education in
Washington, DC, and Rome surely clarified many things in my spiritual and
intellectual journeys. Two facts emerged for me. Christians are equally, if not
more, guilty of various sins throughout history, and the aim of a Christian is
to learn from past mistakes in order to improve the future, in accordance with
the will of God.
I think the effect of Middle East politics—particularly the
unresolved Israeli-Palestinian question—has made Middle Eastern Christians’
view of modern Judaism a very difficult case. Unfortunately, not much work has
been done yet to bridge the gap between the Jewish diaspora community and their
Middle Eastern Christian neighbors in Canada. That is why I took the daring
initiative to break silence on our mutual existence. I think there is great
potential in restoring relations between the two groups. First, it is always a
good thing when people come in peace to one another. Second, there is so much
that we have in common, and we can establish a process to bring awareness to
why we should do this also in other communities in Canada and the US.
Achtman: Can Middle Eastern Christian clergy and
laity help combat antisemitism and cultivate a greater reverence both for the
Jewish sources of Christianity as well as for the Jewish people in our modern
communities today?
Soro: Absolutely! Again, if this subject is treated with the
method and conviction that it is the fulfillment of the salvation of humanity
through peaceful coexistence and reciprocal appreciation of one community to
the other, I think it is very possible that Middle Eastern Christian clergy and
laity will help combat antisemitism and cultivate a greater reverence both for
the Jewish sources of Christianity in their respective traditions as well as
for the Jewish people in modern communities everywhere.
Achtman: You participated in a vigil to honor
the victims of the Tree of Life Synagogue shooting in Pittsburgh, and you also
recorded a video reflection one year after the attack, saying, “Chaldeans
of Canada can easily identify with the victims of evil acts of violence,
especially innocent worshippers in synagogues and churches. We therefore reject
any act of antisemitism and hatred, and do stand with the Jewish people.”
How can Jewish and Christian communities show greater solidarity with one
another through Holocaust and genocide recognition, education, and remembrance?
Soro: By starting to talk with one another with open-mindedness
and courage, motivated by the virtues and ethics of our religions that have
built the Judeo-Christian Western civilization. I am sure any time Jews and
Christians become true to their One God and religious beliefs that ultimately
reveal the will of this God, who loves his creation, they can learn together
how to stand against the Evil One, who lured humanity to commit the crimes of
the Holocaust and so many other genocides, and to keep the memory of those who
died guiltless and saint-like deaths, through education and remembrance.