With Christian Evangelicals in the troubled Middle East

Mary Kenny reflects on an overwhelming visit to a much changed Lebanon

When I received an invitation to join a small press trip to Beirut in the Lebanon, I was grateful to accept the chance to see this part of the Middle East. My father had studied to be a Jesuit there a very, very long time ago: back in the 1890s. He had described it as a charming and tolerant place, and at that time it was under the same governance – the Ottoman Empire – as Syria. So the students at the American Jesuit Seminary in Beirut would often visit Damascus, where, he told my elder brothers, the food was delicious and the people exceptionally welcoming.

And so I was interested to see how much the Lebanon would have changed since his time: and with neighbouring Syria in such anguish and turmoil, Christian – and indeed Muslim – life in the Lebanon must have changed a lot.

My hosts for this visit were a Christian Evangelical television station called Sat7, which successfully broadcasts all over the Middle East: the programmes are both Evangelical and educational, and the programmes-makers all committed Bible-based Christians.

Some had roots in the Catholic Maronite tradition, which was the majority faith in the Lebanon, but has gradually lost ground to an increase in Muslim populations, both as refugees, and because of higher Islamic fertility. (The Christian-Muslim balance is now about 40%-60%)

I was taken to see the TV station itself, just outside Beirut; to talk to Christian students who had fled from Syria because life there has become intolerable for Christians; to meet the chief pastor of the Evangelical Church in the Lebanon, and to talk to a Catholic nun, Soeur Bacima Al Khoury, who runs an excellent school with a Christian base but open to all cultures; also to an Evangelical rally, to a Baptist Sunday service, and to meet Syrian refugees – continuing Muslims, and Muslim converts to Christianity – being sheltered by the Baptist church, and even poorer refugees living in camps.

It was almost too much to take in over a few days.

 

The road to Damascus

Eastern Beirut is still very much Catholic Maronite and the road to Damascus – or the road towards Damascus – is adorned with statues and shrines to Our Lady and to St Therese, too. That road to Damascus also led to a refugee camp for homeless Syrians, which I will describe next week.

Sat7 television can be accessed on: www.sat7uk.org 

 

Lebanon is a tolerant society

Surprisingly, Lebanon still seems a tolerant, even relaxed society – you see Muslim girls wearing the headscarf laughing and linking arms with Maronite girls – and it even seems remarkably safe. There is very little evident ‘security’ in Beirut itself: it is only as you move towards the Syrian border that you notice army checks. 

The Christians that I met were pledged to remain welcoming to Syrian refugees, who may now constitute up to 20% of the Lebanese population. Yet the shared historical background has linked the two countries together for so long that the Syrians are hardly strangers: it is as if Ireland had to take in a large number of Welsh refugees. 

And the Christians I met were motivated by evangelism. “Do they proselytise?” my cousin asked me. Interesting linguistic question: where lies the difference between ‘proselytising’ and ‘evangelising’? They would say they ‘evangelise’. By which they mean they wish to spread the Gospel, and yes, be welcoming to converts.

I was impressed by the commitment and energy of these Evangelicals. They have shining faces and a strong sense of being immersed in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. They want to do good. Sat7, the TV station, broadcasts programmes about abuse of women – the horrors, in the Yemen, of forced marriage of young girls of 11 or 12 to older men – and other areas of social care. But it’s all driven by their faith. 

The Christian rally was like a huge pop concert in an event hall: it was packed with Lebanese and Syrian people, including some Muslim women wearing the veil. Pop music in Arabic and long, illuminated sermons followed.

At a Baptist Sunday worship, many Muslim women – all refugees – were in evidence. Some were just weary from their troubles: for others, it was a cheerful place of music, and a service for children, where they could be safe.

In some Islamic countries, a Muslim may not convert to Christianity. But Lebanon is a free society and there is no legal obstacle. Some Muslim women have to square religious conversion with their husbands. Gradually, their headscarves recede, and then they are removed.

It’s ideas that dominate the world, not guns or bombs, and if the fanaticism of ISIS is to be defeated, only a more persuasive idea will defeat it. For these Christian Evangelicals, the message of Jesus Christ is their arms and their armour.