Syria #8: The Double Blessing
The Double Blessing
For the team, Julie Burgess
West Hills Church, Omaha, NE
When we come to Syria, and this is my ninth time (the eighth since the war began in 2011), the first hurdle is always getting a visa. Three times when I have been on an Outreach Foundation team, the visa was denied, or more accurately, “never arrived.” This trip was different; our visas were granted before we ever left the states, so we had no worries upon arriving. Our prayers had already been answered, by the diligent work of our church family in this land.
Friday, we faced a different hurdle.
Our plans included worship in two different places, Ain Shara in the morning and Jaramana in the evening. And for a group of church members, it is a double blessing to gather twice with the body of Christ. Two messages of hope. Twice the number of hymns and prayers. Double coffee and cookies!
So we headed down the road from Damascus, west toward Ain Shara, now mostly a community of summer homes near the Golan Heights and close to the border with Israel/Palestine. As we waited for 90 minutes for permission to pass the final checkpoint, it became clear that the final i’s had not been dotted, nor the final t’s crossed with the authorities about our visit. This is what I jotted down during the wait:
Close, yet far away;
The now, the not yet;
Waiting for an escort, we cannot go by ourselves to disputed land claimed by many and overseen by more;
God’s spirit goes where it will;
He sent His Son, His Son sends us, yet we are stopped;
I pulled out my Bible to read the passage in Acts 7 that Bruce Ballantine would be preaching about and found these words from Stephen before the court: “You are resident aliens in a land belonging to others.” This was on my mind as we turned around and headed back to Damascus. Permission denied. Aliens, go back.
But that same God whose spirit goes where it will seemed to have another thing in mind. Three minutes down the road, we made a U-turn, headed back to the west, and finally arrived in Ain Shara, up the switchback roads to a church founded in 1860 by Irish missionaries. A packed house, waiting for us for over an hour, was there to greet us, to worship with us, and to share the sacrament of cookies and coffee at worship’s end. Bruce’s message about staying cool under pressure, trusting God, bearing up through suffering, and standing strong in our faith, had been the example, as always, of the church in Syria.
This little village, now with only 10 families permanently living here, has somehow held onto this church. It has produced many pastors and leaders, including our dear friend Samuel Hanna, now 81 years old, who told us the stories of his growing up here. Samuel graduated from the seminary in Beirut in 1975 (with Nuhad Tomeh – they were roommates for three years!) and how he spent 35 years in the pulpit in Homs. He left there when war came, only because his life was threatened. There are so many stories like this here, and you need to lean in close to listen to them.
After worship, we drove farther up the mountains and were treated to views of fruit trees and villages, eventually arriving in Arna for a fabulous lunch at the summer home of Damascus elder Maher Haddad and his wife Ghada Saliba. The security detail which finally caught up to us joined as well, and I am sure they were most happy that we had become their duty for the day.
After a return to Damascus and a quick 15-minute rest, we headed for our evening worship in Jaramana, a crowded section of Damascus, where many displaced had come to live, as it was less expensive, and there is so much poverty all around. Again, we arrived to find this small church hall packed like sardines for Friday evening worship.
Our Tony Lorenz brought his message from Philippians 1:3-11, and the familiar words, “In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”
These words, which Paul wrote from prison to a people he had first visited ten years before, reminded them – and remind the people of Jaramana, whom we first visited just last year – that through all their sufferings, they have not lost their humanity. They remain gracious, generous, faithful. They are hopeful.
And that is the picture we continue to see, and the story we will continue to tell, from the church in Syria. We are confident here in the now, even as we await the not yet. Though pain is close, and peace and prosperity may remain far away, as life is lived as aliens in the land, the spirit of God goes where it will, and is with us always. That is his promise, and on that we will stand.
