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Al-Ahram Weekly 27 April - 3 May 2000 Issue No. 479 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 27 April - 3 May 2000 Issue No. 479
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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She did it her way
At a time when becoming a consecrated deaconess was unheard of, Tasoni Phoebe was braving the uphill battle of a life of devotion outside the convent
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She was at the heart of a new movement; one that encountered many trying times and one that was paralleled by a personal struggle for recognition from her family. From the outset, Tasoni Phoebe's decision to become a consecrated deaconess was hardly greeted with open arms.
"I started thinking about consecration in the same year that I graduated in law from Cairo University in 1980," recounts Tasoni Phoebe. The year that followed was spent in a vicious tug of war with her family. "My father was establishing a law office for me. 'Get married, open a law firm, stay close to the family' -- any other idea was rejected."
The principle of celibacy was dismissed as outrageous; the idea of becoming a consecrated deaconess was utterly incomprehensible. "'Where are you going to stay? Who with? In an apartment? Are you to end up on the street?'" she recalls. "They were particularly anxious because I am a woman. A man can get married anytime ... he can earn a living doing anything, but a woman ... cannot."
That was 20 years ago. Tasoni Phoebe was 23 years old and becoming a consecrated deaconess was shrouded in obscurity. There were long, drawn out discussions in which the entire family was against her. 'Why her? Why did she get an education then?' "Six girls," Tasoni Phoebe notes. "Five got married, and I didn't."
But Tasoni Phoebe was determined to make a point. She decided to force her family into making a choice: either they accept her becoming a consecrated deaconess or they would not see her at all.
"I ran away to St Demiana's convent. One day I just took off, leaving them a note saying that I had left for the convent. I did not mention which one, and I left it for them to go around to all the convents trying to find which one I was in," she chuckled.
After 11 days, her brothers located her and arrived to fetch her, but she wouldn't go back. "I was fighting against going back with them so hard that they literally had to drag me from the floor back home," she recalls. "I would go home again, and run away again, and then we would start the discussions all over again -- 'Why don't you want to work as a lawyer?' etc. 'If you want to live alone, fine, we won't get you married,'" she recalls. "But of course that was one way they were trying to dissuade me," she adds.
"My family's persistence only made me firmer in my intention to become a consecrated deaconess. The harder they tried, the more I was convinced of my decision -- that it is only on this path that I would find happiness," she said.
In the end, she tactfully told them she would go and work at a school in Cairo, which was considered more acceptable than joining a convent. It was not long before she resigned and went to work with Anba Moussa, the bishop of youth. For the next three years, she was the first and only consecrated deaconess working in the Bishopric of Youth.
People glared, whispered and openly inquired why this woman was not married. Some priests boldly contested her vocation: "'Where is your house? What are doing? Why don't you go to the convent?'"
"We were establishing a new community with no sense of what lay ahead -- no signs on the road, no money," reminisces Tasoni Phoebe. A system was being put in place, with time for prayer, service, contemplation and rest, and slowly, the numbers increased. So, too, did her responsibilities; she was put in charge of training new consecrated deaconesses.
Tasoni Phoebe is keen to professionalise the work of the bishopric, and specifically that of the consecrated deaconesses. She is always on the lookout for training courses useful for herself and her sisters, be it in development, administration, management or leadership. After more than 20 years of living as a consecrated deaconess, she has no illusions about what is most difficult about this kind of life: balancing the ever-increasing demands of service and prayer. "It is a daily struggle," she sighs.
For Tasoni Phoebe, what keeps a consecrated deaconess dedicated to her work is endurance. "We put tremendous pressure on consecrated deaconesses at the beginning. We always tell the new sisters: 'If you have freed your time for the church, well, we are going to make the most out of it.' ... We teach a great deal of submission, especially about never saying no to any service."
