We decided to take a walk in downtown Cairo and discovered what was missing were crosswalks and traffic lights (besides the lone one we saw dangling mutely on what was left of its wires). So, everybody jaywalks. Since nobody stopped for any pedestrians, crossing a street appeared improbable, at an intersection impossible. Vehicles kept coming not only down both sides with little visible necessity to stop, but at cross streets from all four sides, as well as from alleys, parking lots, bus stops, taxi stands, driveways, all charging in at the same time. We felt like we were trying to squeeze our way through an assembly line pumping out motor power in all different sizes, barreling in all directions. Most impressive were seasoned pedestrians, today’s artful dodgers, eyes fastened on their cell phones, crossing with an impunity that evoked applause. As cautious tourists, paused like the fleeing Israelites at the Red Sea (but this time one that was emitting gasoline fumes), we waited and waited and waited, searching for an opening. We ourselves are veterans of decades of city ministry and have faced down the most hardened corporate executives who ever floored it to race to their next meeting, but in Cairo traffic we met our collective vehicular nemesis. But, just as we thought we’d have to camp on the sidewalk until midnight before we made our final dash for the distant far side, each time a young executive in a business suit, or a middle-aged worker in coveralls, or a student with books in a satchel quietly came to our side, stood a little forward than us, as the myriad of trucks and cars whizzed by. Suddenly, we’d be given a nod, and all three of us would scurry across the street.
At first, we put out our hands to stop recalcitrant drivers, one of whom answered with an exasperated gesture, adroitly communicating something like: “Why are you in my way? Are you crazy?!” Panting on the other side of the street, we thanked each rescuer, who invariably smiled and said: “Welcome to Cairo!”
Clearly, it is impossible not to fall in love with a people who graciously come alongside one and help one stay alive – when they are not themselves behind the wheel. In fact, everyone we met in the various cities and the countryside of Egypt we explored for a couple of weeks this spring was gracious, pleasant, welcoming, while still serious and intense. It’s true that tourism is Egypt’s greatest industry, and nearly everyone treasures visitors, especially those with American dollars. But this is not a superficial commitment. According to our guide, when radical Jihadists assassinated President Anwar Sadat and then honored his murderers, started shooting tourists, reportedly rigged the elections, and took over control, to the chagrin of all, literally millions of Egyptians filled the streets in protest, forced another election and supervised that one closely, defeating these insurgents soundly. Although this incident took place in the early 1980s, no one has apparently forgotten it and, though the country is at peace internally, we had an armed guard accompany each bus when we toured and three police cars to meet our buses each time we paused to see this country’s wonderful sites – the pyramids, the Sphinx, the treasures and mummy of King Tut, the great dam, the beautiful Nile, flanked on both sides by a Caribbean-like greenery, the museums, the modern hotels, one connected to a vast inner shopping mall of multiple floors, the markets, the temples, the famed Coptic hanging church, suspended in the sky, the hallowed ground where tradition says Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus found refuge in their escape from the murderous Herod, and much more, all sitting on the desert in constant vigilance to preserve the waters of the Nile and their present way of life. .
Though a Muslim country, where amplified calls for prayer blast out each day and some nights in an ambience wherein even the former Christian Nubians have generally converted, Egyptians are serious about preserving religious diversity and, although only ten percent of the country remains Christian, crosses on Coptic Christian Churches shine out in the night and services and festivities are regularly held in honor of the Triune God.
This kind of zeal is exemplified by the venders who not only gather when an excursion ship, like our Viking craft, enters their strip of the Nile, but forge out in boats to meet it, shouting, “Helloooo, Ladies! Look at the nice [rugs, scarfs, shirts, statues, pendants, bracelets, bookmarks, et. al] I have for you!” Accompanying them are young boys on floating boards, singing songs and hoping for a handout. In one of the towns we visited, as we walked along the marketplace, two vendors waving shirts at us from their neighboring stalls began shouting at each other in such a volume that a policeman came over and joined the shouting until a third vendor, a schoolteacher, came out from his stall and in a calm voice began to quiet them down. While this melee was going on, one of the vendors was pulling a shirt over my head, while the second was trying to have me look at his, and I was shouting (in somewhat muffled terms now), “I don’t want a shirt! We came for a purse for a friend!” The shopping dervish went certainly whirling around us.
But it was all in good spirit, because, once again, we had to remind ourselves, shopping by tourists was their main source of income. And, except for a farewell from our spare Egyptian pounds, we survived it unscathed, with our fists full of shirt, purse, wallet, a collection of coins and outdated pounds and stamps, hand-made wall hangings for Christmas gifts, and dried hibiscus flowers for tea, a national drink.
As all these experiences began to meld together in our minds, Aίda kept thinking of the verse in Psalm 91:11, “[The Lord’s] angels he will place over you to guard you in all your journeys [or paths, or way of life][1] ” Even the Evil One knows the truth about this verse and, as we read in Luke 4:10, tried to tempt Jesus with it. This is obviously not because Satan wanted to honor Jesus with this scriptural promise, but was hoping to break open the battle for supremacy by cajoling Jesus into following his own command to fulfill this scripture and thereby get Jesus to obey him and shift the power to his demands. Jesus, however, was not deceived by this faux piety, but rebuked the Devil, countering scripture with a scripture declaring God is not to be put to the test.
For us mortals a blessing here is that Jesus extends this promise to his followers as well. In John 17:11-12, Jesus’s great prayer for those who believe in him, he asks his Father to protect us, just as Jesus protected his disciples. In fact, all through the Bible, we see verses like Psalm 34:7, which promises the angel of the Lord camps around those who fear God and protects them, just as the Egyptians tried to protect us as we crossed their streets and we visited their ancient sites. We also see direct intervention by God in Peter’s ministry, when an angel sprung him from Herod’s prison in Acts 12, and in Paul’s journey to Rome for trial, when he was encouraged by an angel that he would be rescued in the coming shipwreck in Acts 27:23.
Sometimes, God sends other believers to help us, as Boaz did Ruth, as recorded in their book of love, and Ananias helped Paul regain his sight in Acts 9. Sometimes God sends others who are not yet believers in the gospel to our rescue as Cyrus helped Israel in 2 Chronicles 36:22-23, and as the hospitable Egyptians helped us.
The point is that God’s promise to guide and protect us is not just wishful thinking. God does indeed have a life of service planned out for each true believer. For some of us, our lives are brief; for others, they are long. But always, even if we should suffer, God can and does intervene and send us help. And for these many times throughout our lives, we should all be very grateful.
Bill with Aída
[1] Bill’s translation of the Hebrew text.
