Getting engaged is supposed to be the easy part. Auguri, you’ve found your person, pour the vino rosso, call your mother. But what happens when your person belongs to an ancient church that separated from yours in 451 AD and both sides have a lot of institutional feelings about it?
My husband is Coptic Orthodox. I’m Roman Catholic. We got engaged in 2016 and married in 2018. In between those two dates was an extended bureaucratic negotiation involving the Catholic Archdiocese of Melbourne and the Coptic Church. We navigated all of it.
At a glance
- Do I need to convert to marry a Coptic Orthodox? No. With the right dispensation from the Catholic Church, you can marry in the Coptic Orthodox Church without converting.
- Can a Catholic marry a Coptic Orthodox? Yes. It requires a dispensation from the Catholic Archdiocese and approval from the Coptic Church, but it’s possible.
- Will the Coptic Church recognise the marriage? Yes, provided the Catholic spouse completes the required conditions set by the Coptic Church.
- What steps does a Catholic need to take to marry a Coptic Orthodox? There are four conditions set by the Coptic Church: completing a Coptic marriage preparation course, undertaking a course about the Coptic Orthodox faith, receiving the anointing with chrism oil, and agreeing to be married in the Coptic Orthodox Church. You will also need a dispensation from the Catholic Archdiocese.
- How long does the process take? It varies, but expect at least several months. Between the courses, the dispensation process, and the anointing, it’s not a quick administrative exercise.
Two churches, one very long history
If you didn’t grow up in either tradition, the Coptic Orthodox Church might need a brief introduction. The Copts are one of the oldest Christian communities in the world, tracing their founding to Saint Mark the Evangelist in first-century Alexandria. They’re not Eastern Orthodox (Greek, Russian, Serbian); they belong to the Oriental Orthodox family alongside the Ethiopian, Armenian, Syriac and Eritrean churches.
The distinction matters because their split from the rest of Christendom happened before the Great Schism of 1054. At the Council of Chalcedon in 451 AD, the Coptic Church parted ways with Rome and Constantinople over the question of Christ’s nature. The Council defined Christ as having two distinct natures, divine and human, united in one person. The Copts held instead that Christ has one united nature, simultaneously and wholly divine and human. Modern theologians have largely concluded the disagreement was more a matter of language and emphasis than of substance, which is a significant thing for both churches to sit with.
The two churches have been in formal dialogue since Pope Paul VI and Coptic Pope Shenouda III met in 1973. Progress has been slow, occasionally derailed, and very politely documented. Piano, piano, as my mother would say.
Where we really differ
“But don’t you both believe in Jesus?” Well, duh. However, the theological differences between Catholics and Copts go deeper than that. If you’re one and marrying the other, it’s worth understanding.
The Papacy
The papacy is the obvious one. Catholics hold that the Pope is the supreme head of the universal Church, with authority over all the faithful and, under specific conditions, the gift of infallibility on matters of faith and morals. The Coptic Pope leads his own church as a patriarch and shepherd, and is deeply venerated, but does not hold universal jurisdiction.
Filioque
Then there’s the filioque. The Nicene Creed, as Catholics say it, states that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son (“filioque” is Latin for “and the Son”). The Copts, along with all Orthodox churches, say the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father alone. This addition was inserted into the Creed by the Western Church without the approval of an ecumenical council, which is a serious concern if you hold those councils to be binding. The Copts do, and they are not wrong to hold the line on it.
Fasting
Fasting is where the differences become most visible in daily life. The Coptic fasting tradition is one of the most demanding in all of Christianity, with around 210 days of fasting per year, abstaining from all animal products. The major fasts include a 55-day Great Lent, the Fast of the Apostles, the Fast of the Virgin, and an Advent fast. Catholic fasting is more limited in its obligatory form: two days of formal fast per year, with abstinence on Fridays during Lent. Both traditions take fasting seriously as a spiritual discipline; the scale is simply different. I’ll be honest about which one I find more confronting.
Calendars
Easter falls on different dates in most years because the Coptic Church follows the Julian calendar for its liturgical year while Catholics follow the Gregorian. We celebrate two Easters when the calendar allows, which, far from being complicated, is actually one of the quieter joys of a mixed marriage. But yay for us, every four years, the dates are in sync so we host a huge celebration with both families at our house.
Sacraments
On the sacraments: both churches have seven, but the application differs. Coptic infants receive baptism, chrismation and first Communion together, as a single unified rite of initiation into the Body of Christ. Catholic children receive these sacraments separately and across years. Neither church permits the other’s faithful to receive their Eucharist, because the two churches are not yet in full communion. This is the part that requires the most ongoing prayer in a mixed marriage, in the pew if nowhere else.
The Virgin Mary
The Immaculate Conception is a Catholic dogma defined in 1854, holding that the Virgin Mary was preserved from original sin from the very first moment of her existence. The Coptic Church holds Mary in the highest veneration, calling her Theotokos, God-bearer, and fasting for fifteen days every August in her honour. But they do not hold the Immaculate Conception as doctrine.
For Copts, Mary was fully human, chosen and graced by God, her holiness a gift given and lived rather than a condition present from conception.
Purgatory
Purgatory is similarly a Catholic teaching that the Coptic Church doesn’t share in the same form. Catholics believe in a state of purification after death for souls not yet ready to enter the fullness of heaven. Copts pray faithfully for the dead and hold a deep theology of God’s mercy that extends beyond this life, but without purgatory as formal doctrine. If you need a reference, it’s Rev 21:27.
There are many other theological and doctrinal differences, but these would rarely if ever be discussed between husband and wife.
What it took to get married
When we got engaged in 2016, we visited a Coptic Orthodox priest who told us in no uncertain terms that I had to convert. Why? Because I was baptised as a Roman Catholic, and the Coptic Orthodox Church doesn’t recognise that sacrament. Unless I converted and got re-baptised, there was just going to be no wedding. Sobbing, I left that meeting thinking, “Well, I tried. Won’t convert. Can’t get married. Nice knowing you.”
My husband-to-be and I didn’t talk for a few days. I guess we were trying to navigate all the complexities of our faith and whether we should just throw in the towel now.
After about a week, in utter despair, I decided to call my local parish and explain our situation. The priest immediately gave me the number for the Catholic Archdiocese of Melbourne, and we were granted a face-to-face meeting with the Dean. Dear reader, this is not something that simply happens. The Dean is a senior figure; you don’t just call him up on Tuesday and see him by Thursday. And yet, we sat across from him, pleaded our case, and asked him to help us find a way to have our marriage blessed by both churches without me having to convert.
Eventually, we received the necessary dispensation.
A few months later on April 28 in 2017, out of nowhere, the Coptic Orthodox patriarch and the Roman Catholic pope stood together in Cairo and signed a joint declaration. Not binding in canon law, but significant in every other way: two of the oldest Christian leaders in the world formally acknowledged that both baptisms are valid, and that a Catholic and a Copt should be able to build a life together without one of them having to surrender who they are to do it.
I’m not saying I caused it. But I’m not not saying it either.
Divine timing, shall we say?
The fine print
Marrying into the Coptic Church as a Catholic isn’t simply a matter of turning up and being anointed. The dispensation was granted, but it came with four conditions:
- The coptic marriage course
The first was attending a Coptic marriage course, held over a weekend with other engaged couples. It covered the things that actually determine whether a marriage holds together: finances, how you handle conflict, your communication style, and so on.
My husband and I discovered things about each other in that room that a dinner date would never have surfaced. It was genuinely such a fun experience, and I highly recommend everyone do a marriage course in any faith.
- Coptic 101 course
The second requirement was a 12-week course in the Coptic Orthodox faith. As a Catholic marrying into the church, I needed to understand what I was entering. The course was condensed to approximately five weeks because of what was happening in Egypt at the time.
On April 9, 2017, Palm Sunday, two Coptic churches in Egypt were bombed. Dozens of people were killed while they were at Mass, preparing for Holy Week. The Coptic community in Melbourne, like Copts everywhere, was in mourning. While this isn’t an unremarkable incident (Coptic churches are bombed almost weekly in Egypt), I felt it more deeply than previous years because of my connection to the faith.
- The anointing
The third requirement was the anointing. Before I could marry in the Coptic church, I was anointed with chrism oil by a Coptic priest in 36 parts on my body. It was solemn and beautiful and, as a Catholic, deeply strange.
- I had to agree to marry in the Coptic Orthodox Church
The fourth condition was straightforward: I had to agree to be married in the Coptic Orthodox Church. By that point, after everything we had navigated to get there, this was the easy part. I did ask one thing in return: that my father walk me down the aisle. It isn’t something the Coptic church traditionally does, but they obliged. By then, I suspect they were willing to do anything to get the persistent Italian Catholic down the aisle and out of their hair.
All’s well that ends well
In 2018, I stood in the Coptic Orthodox Church, anointed and blessed, and married my husband. I didn’t convert; I was received, which is a distinction that matters both theologically and personally. I remain Catholic. He remains Coptic Orthodox.
We celebrate two Easters when the calendar allows, we fast according to our respective traditions, and we’ve spent more time in churches across both rites than most people manage in a lifetime.
With all that said, we still poke fun at each other’s faith and rules.
Things that I don’t understand about his church
- Men and women sit on either side of the church
- The Mass goes for hours. For most of it, you’re standing up
- You can’t receive communion if you’re menstruating
- After Mass has ended, the priest hands out a small meal for you to eat
- That the Coptic cross is tattooed on the wrist of many Copts at birth (yes, really!), as a mark of identity and faith.
Things he doesn’t understand about mine
- Margaret from up the road can administer communion
- You can receive the Body of Christ by hand
- Most churches don’t even administer the Blood of Christ anymore
- Altar servers (girls). Need he say more?
- Purgatory. I even wrote a whole article about it.
At the time of writing this post, the two churches are still not in full communion. They may not be in my lifetime. But in our home, there’s one table and two very ancient traditions, each one holding something true.
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