(Urbayn and the wine ready for communion; a Maronite church draped in readiness for Easter – note the icon; the crusader castle at Byblos with Roman columns in its walls; the remnants of a Phoenician battlement outside the castle.)
Today is Easter Monday, a day to reflect that life triumphs over death. One experiences the presence of both life and death in the communion service of Arab churches. They use a special bread that is also given out at memorial services held 40 days after a person’s death. This bread, called urbayn, has a distinctive rosewater taste and fragrance. For anyone who has experienced the death of a loved one, urbayn adds such poignance to the communion service.
Yesterday I went to the apartment of a woman who had raised her four children in Beirut during the civil war. She said the hardest thing was not allowing her children to play outside – it was enough that they were covered in glass shards from street bombs while they slept. So that the children wouldn’t feel the lack of the outdoors so much she packed their schedules with piano, dance, and art lessons. The children grew up to be accomplished and cultivated professionals. I’d say she pulled life out of death.
I experienced some cultural dissonance on Saturday with Imad, Diana’s brother, who took me on a drive north of the city to see Byblos, a city with traces of civilizations going back to the Iron Age, and then some Maronite churches in the region. The churches are filled with icons and relics. Imad, a dentist, observed that these objects act as placebos, summoning something from within a believer to help effect cures. We watched while supplicants kissed or tenderly placed their hands on these objects after prayer. When I said “we watched”, Imad was more on the participatory end while I was more on the observational. He crosses himself entering or even passing a church while I just keep moving forward. Finally, at a monastery to 19th-century Saint Charbel, Imad got cross with me for not dipping my finger into the holy water as he had done. You’d have thought I had lit up a cigarette in church or popped my bubble gum. So, I said in my defense, why would I want to bother with a placebo? Because, said he, the power of placebos comes from the energy of objects kissed and touched by thousands and thousands of believers and the people who take the sugar pill have also kissed the icons. I must ask a Druze lady in my yoga class if she agrees with him – and kisses icons — she and her daughter went to St. Charbel last month to pray over a health problem.
Meanwhile, the East-West divide was playing out over the weather. On Good Friday it did not rain but there was a slight sprinkling on Saturday. This was taken as proof that the Eastern Church had scored a victory as it maintains that rain always comes between Good Friday and Easter in imitation of the weather at the Crucifixion. I could only say as theologians they make great meteorologists. We settled our disputes over beer in a restaurant that Imad said was run by members of Hezbollah. In case you are wondering how this could be, let me repeat a story I was told by a Greek Orthodox woman: in the summer of 2006 Israel was bombing the south of Lebanon and the Shi’a inhabitants were fleeing north to live in non-Shi’a areas. The Shi’a have a reputation for conservativeness regarding women and the rest of the population was concerned about harassment of women wearing shorts and spaghetti straps. The Hezbollah leader, Hassan Nasrallah, told his followers not to bother any woman, no matter how skimpily dressed, as that would violate the laws of hospitality. As a political party they are courting the Lebanese population at large. It makes me think Hezbollah is more Sinn Fein than IRA these days. Diana tells me that Hezbollah is one of two political parties supporting the teachers in a pay raise.
I am leaving next Sunday morning so I said “good-bye” to my churches and promised to be back next year absent tanks firing in the streets. One must draw the line somewhere. Strangely enough, though, I am reassured that Lebanon is going to be okay. One takes the long view in a place like this. No empire is forever. Life goes on.
goingfortheguttural 