Tick-Tock to Apocalypse: July 9 1967

Doors

The Children of the Promise

Life was getting back to normal, except for the news of fresh fighting at Port Fouad. School was out and the upcoming summer promised to be less cordial than previous ones. Word passed around that the annual vacation in Alexandria is unwise this year. This would mean a long hot summer in Cairo, with the Liddo pool as the only relief. Sunday July 9 was to be like many other Sundays during school holidays. A morning liturgy in the Church followed by an afternoon of Sunday School. But at the last minute there was a change. The favorite Sunday School teacher was not at the Church and a rumor drifted among some of the boys that he could be found at the Seventh Day Adventist Church on Qubba Street. Later a few of the boys headed there to find him.

When the boys found their teacher he was volunteering to repair the electrical works in the basement of that Church. Still he decided to hold a impromptu teaching session, which proved to be first of many before the Adventists wised up to his doings and asked him to cease. The chairs were arrayed in a circle as they usually were, and the half dozen boys listened to him explain the meaning of Romans 9:8 “That is, They which are the children of the flesh, these are not the children of God: but the children of the promise are counted for the seed.” He began conventionally enough with a simple assertion, that God’s chosen people were no longer just the physical descendants of the Jews, but anyone who believes in Jesus Christ. Displacing the Jews from a favored status seemed in tune with much of Egypt a month after the war. But he did not stop there. Soon he was encouraging the boys to look beyond what their parents teach them and what their country asks of them. Those who love Christ should love no nation above his message. What you must love above your nation is each other, he insisted. The message must have had a special resonance for him, for within a few months he would reveal his plans to leave for America. He ended the lesson with a wink. “I have a present from America”. On the record player which the Church normally reserved for imported sermons and carols he played a rare and precious commodity, a copy of the “The Doors” recently released album. The boys sat and listened quietly without a sound, as if in prayer. Nearly an hour passed between the first urging to “Break on through to the other side” and the final “This is the End”. For some of them it was a time of precious freedom.

— Maged Atiya

 



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