Minya, Egypt, Apr 12, 2017 / 03:42 pm (CNA/EWTN News).- After two bomb attacks on worshippers at Coptic Orthodox churches on Sunday, the Coptic Orthodox Archdiocese of Minya has announced it will celebrate Easter without the typical festive accoutrements.
The observance of Easter in the Minya Coptic Orthodox archdiocese will be limited to liturgical services “without any festive manifestations” in mourning for the nearly 45 Coptic Orthodox faithful who were killed in attacks on Sunday, the AP reports.
Two Coptic Orthodox churches were the targets of Islamic State bombings on April 9, Palm Sunday. The attack on St. George's in Tanta, nearly 60 miles north of Cairo, killed 28. Shortly after, another bomb went off outside St. Mark's cathedral in Alexandria, killing 17.
The attacks came only weeks before Pope Francis plans to visit Egypt to promote peace and dialogue between Christians and Muslims in the country. Pope Francis, after celebrating Palm Sunday Mass at St. Peter’s Square, decried the violence and asked God to “convert the hearts of those who sow fear, violence and death, and those who make and traffic arms.” He also expressed solidarity with Tawardos II, the Coptic Orthodox Patriarch of Alexandria.
Egypt’s President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi declared a three-month state of emergency following the attacks.
Sunday’s atrocities follow a months-long spike in anti-Christian violence in Egypt, particularly in the country’s Sinai region.
In December 2016, 29 died in a bombing of a chapel next to St. Mark’s Coptic Orthodox cathedral in Cairo, for which the Islamic State claimed responsibility.
Egyptian society was also profoundly shocked by the beheading in Libya of 20 Coptic Orthodox faithful and a companion by Islamic State militants in February 2015.
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The entrance to Christ the King Major Seminary in Fayit, Fadan Kagoma, Nigeria, whence three seminarians were abducted Oct. 11, 2021. / Courtesy photo.
Kafanchan, Nigeria, Oct 12, 2021 / 15:00 pm (CNA).
Three seminarians were abducted Monday nig… […]
Harare, Zimbabwe, Sep 26, 2019 / 04:00 am (CNA).- British-born John Bradburne, who died in Zimbabwe 40 years ago, could be on his way to becoming the country’s first canonized saint.
Bradburne is a revered figure among the Catholic community in the landlocked southern African country of Zimbabwe. According to reports, Bradburne was shot in the back after he was abducted from his hut in Mutemwa in the north-east of Zimbabwe.
Who was he?
Born in 1921 to Anglican parents in Cumbria, England, Bradburne converted to Catholicism in 1947 while living with Benedictine monks, after he had a religious experience during World War II.
He lived after his conversion as a pilgrim, shuttling between England, the Middle East and Italy, living out of one bag. He was a prolific poet.
Bradburne joined the Secular Third Order Franciscan in 1956.
He later made contact with Fr. John Dove, a Jesuit friend living in Zimbabwe. Bradburne asked whether there was a “cave in Africa” where he could pray. Dove encouraged him to move to Zimbabwe, where he arrived in 1962.
In Zimbabwe, he told a Franciscan priest the three desires of his life: “to serve leprosy patients, to die a martyr, and to be buried in the Franciscan habit.”
In 1969, seven years after his arrival in the country , Bradburne’s desire to care for leprosy-afflicted patients was fulfilled, when he was appointed the lead caretaker at Mutemwa Leprosy Settlement, a center that cared for leprosy patients.
Bradburne spent hours with patients. He rose at 3:00 each morning, and washed patients, bandaged them, ate with them, and talked with them. Some of them he carried to Mass. But he clashed with leaders at the center over the conditions in which patients lived, and eventually, he was fired.
He was allowed to live in a deserted single-roomed tin hut in the settlement compound.
His house had no running water, but he was glad to be within the vicinity of the lepers, whom he continued helping in whatever way he could.
During Zimbabwe’s civil war, which lasted from 1964 until 1979, Bradburne protected the lepers from exploitation, something that raised suspicion, especially, locals say, because he was a foreigner, and his motives were frequently suspect.
Locals became hostile towards him, but he refused offers from other Christians to take him to safety.
Bradburne died on Sept. 5, 1979 when he was shot dead at age 58. He was buried in the Franciscan habit, as he had hoped to be.
During his burial, three unexplained drops of blood were found below his coffin, reports say.
For his compassion toward the afflicted, Bradburne has been called the “Damien of the 20th century” in reference to St. Damian of Molokai who cared for lepers in Hawaii.
“He did a good thing, and that is what it is about. The love the lepers continue to have for him, because of his sacrifices, is truly astonishing.” Kate McPherson of the John Bradburne Memorial Trust told reporters in July.
In an interview with BBC, Fr Fidelis Mukonori who worked closely with the Bradburne recalled his friend’s account of living with lepers, “From the day I set my eyes on these people, I discovered I am also a leper among my own people.”
“Working for and with them I feel appreciated, that I am doing something good and they call me Baba [Father] John,” Mukonori remembered Bradburne telling him.
“He arrived with few possessions, only love,” Colleta Mafuta, 78, a leprosy survivor who knew Bradburne told BBC.
“The colony was filthy and the people were dirty. There was no medication, no clothes and people went hungry. He took care of everyone’s needs – feeding people, and washing and bandaging our sores,” she added.
According to Independent Catholic News, two people have claimed miraculous cures through Bradburne’s intercession: a woman in South African who regained the use of her legs, and a man in Scotland cured of a brain tumor.
On July 1, the Vatican’s Congregation for the Causes of Saints approved initial investigations into Bradburne’s sainthood cause. On Sept. 5, Archbishop Robert Ndlovu of Harare celebrated a Mass at Mutemwa where Bradburne served, to mark 40 years since his death and to officially launch his sainthood cause.
A version of this story was first published by ACI Africa, CNA’s African news partner. It has been adapted by CNA.
Deacon Johnny Al-Daoud celebrates his release from captivity in Syria on March 2, 2025, with family and friends. / Credit: St. Michael’s Church – Maskana Parish
ACI MENA, Apr 5, 2025 / 07:00 am (CNA).
On the morning of Sunday, March 2, without any prior notice, Johnny Fouad Dawoud, a deacon in the Syriac Catholic Church for the Archdiocese of Homs, was released from a Syrian prison after a decade of confinement.
ACI MENA, CNA’s Arabic-language news partner, spoke with him after he was reunited with his family to discuss his ordeal of being captured by the Al-Nusra Front, his moments of faith and doubt behind bars, and the light that now shines in his life.
Friends and family gather around Deacon Johnny Fouad Dawoud as he returns home on March 2, 2025, after a decade in captivity. Credit: Photo courtesy of Deacon Johnny Fouad Dawoud
ACI MENA: Tell us first about your upbringing and journey in the Church.
Dawoud: I was born into a religiously committed family, and from childhood, I was passionate about participating in pastoral activities. At the age of 12, I joined the minor and then the major seminary in Lebanon, graduating in 2009 with a degree in theology and philosophy from the University of the Holy Spirit in Kaslik, Lebanon.
I returned to Homs to prepare for my priestly ordination, but as the date for the diaconal ordination approached, I felt unprepared to take on those roles and was not entirely convinced about celibacy. After much reflection and consultation, I decided to be honest with God and myself, and withdrew — a decision that surprised my family and friends, especially my uncle, Cardinal Patriarch Mar Ignatius Moses I Daoud.
[Editor’s note: Dawoud later became a permanent deacon in the Syriac Catholic Church, allowing him to read the Epistles during the liturgy.]
What challenges did you face after that?
I got married and was blessed with a child. However, with the outbreak of the Syrian revolution, I lost my home in the Christian district of Hamidiyah in Old Homs due to clashes. Military service was the biggest challenge; I was moved between several fronts, the last being Abu Dhuhur airport, where we were besieged for months.
The situation was tragic; food supplies ran out, and we were forced to eat grass and leaves. The water was contaminated and not potable, leading to various diseases. In September 2015, the rebels stormed the airport, and only 38 out of 300 survived.
Deacon Johnny Fouad Dawoud gives thanks with his family and friends at Mass after his release from prison in Syria. Credit: Photo courtesy of Deacon Johnny Fouad Dawoud
After you were captured and taken to prison, how did you experience captivity?
We were held hoping for a prisoner exchange, but regime officials did not seriously cooperate with our case. At one point, their negotiators even said, “Kill them; we no longer care about them.” Throughout the 10 years, we were generally treated well and were not subjected to torture or insult, except during the initial investigation period. Yet, our suffering was immense, the hardest part being the complete isolation from the outside world, enough to destroy anyone’s psyche. Living in the unknown as if you were dead causes constant turmoil and devastating frustration.
We fell ill, including with COVID-19, which nearly killed us, and we didn’t even know it had claimed millions outside. Food and water were generally good, though the lack of washing and bathroom water troubled us, but we managed.
After three years of captivity, we were allowed one short call per year (during Ramadan) with our families, thanks to a meeting with Abu Mohammad al-Julani, leader of the Al-Nusra Front.
How did this experience affect your faith?
It’s very difficult for a captive to describe his spiritual experience in prison in a few words.
Muslims were interested in discussing religious issues with me, some of whom I avoided debating due to their blind fanaticism — they knew only words like infidel, polytheist, apostate, atheist, and hypocrite.
However, graduates from Islamic legal institutes and colleges were enjoyable to discuss with, as I had a margin of freedom to speak and defend my faith, which they accepted and understood.
I truly loved witnessing to my faith as if I were living among our saintly fathers and martyrs in times of early persecution. I always lived with Apostle Paul, saying with him: “We are ambassadors for Christ,” indeed being an ambassador for Christ and not just in words, in a place where that was considered heresy.
I prayed a lot, conversing with my Lord at night and calling upon him during the day. But it pains me to say that at the beginning of my captivity, as the years passed and my and my family’s suffering increased, my faith wavered. My trust in God began to shake, and I wondered: Why does my Lord not respond to me? Why is he punishing me? What sins did my family commit to deserve all this suffering?
Deacon Johnny Al-Daoud, pictured with family members, was released from captivity in Syria on March 2, 2025. Credit: St. Michael’s Church – Maskana Parish
What about the moment of your release and your reception in Homs?
On the morning of Sunday, March 2, without any prior knowledge, they called my name, asking me to prepare to leave. I stood outside the prison gate, unbelieving that I was free. I was transferred to the Christian village of Ya’qubiya in Idlib countryside, where Father Louai the Franciscan and the locals warmly received me, leaving a lasting impression on me. There, I contacted the pastor of our Syriac Catholic archdiocese, Bishop Jacob Murad, and my family. My brother Munther, who did not know I had been released, began screaming with joy when I told him, “Prepare dinner, I’ll be home this evening.”
When I arrived at my diocese in Homs, Bishop Jacob, along with priests, my wife, my son, and many relatives and friends, were there to receive me. We entered the church to give thanks to the Lord, and I received holy Communion from his eminence the bishop. After receiving congratulations, I headed to my village, Maskanah (in the Homs countryside), and we entered the village with a grand celebration.
Christians and Muslims, young and old, welcomed me, and crowds from other areas came. When I saw the joy of the people at my liberation, I truly and immediately forgot the suffering of those 10 years.
This story was first published by ACI MENA, CNA’s Arabic-language news partner, and has been translated and adapted by CNA.
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