We woke up to a desert wind whipping through the ruins of Palmyra.  After a quick breakfast, our bus departed for Deir Mar Musa (Monastery of St. Moses) near the city of Homs.  This monastery was recently featured in National Geographic (June ’09) for the efforts made there towards Christian-Muslim dialogue.  The building itself dates back to the 6^th century and is named, not for “Exodus Moses”, but for Moses, the son of a king in what is now Ethiopia.  He chose monastic life over the throne.  The monastery functioned in varying capacities until the 1830’s when it was finally abandoned.

In the 1980’s, it was rediscovered by an Italian former Jesuit.  With help from local community and foreign funding, he renovated the site and had it reconsecrated for use.  Today it draws in everyone from Christian pilgrims to backpackers to curious Muslims to groups like our own.  Picturesque and isolated, it was worth our short visit… and the steep, stone, 380-step hike required to get there.

Another hour down the road Continue reading →

Back to Malula, Syria for a moment…

Before leaving home, I photocopied some of Syria’s Lonely Planet guide to bring along.  One blurb about Malula and its Aramaic legacy went like this:

“So was the Aramaic spoken in Mel Gibson’s epic, ‘The Passion of the Christ,’ accurate?  Malula’s locals say that the first time they saw the film, they were so  moved they didn’t pay attention.  On a second viewing, however, they realized they could barely understand a word of the dialect that Mel had used…”

I asked our Aramaic-speaking, from-Malula guide if this were true.  He said that he could understand very little of the movie’s speaking.  So that confirmed it.

“Not so fast,” he replied.  “My uncle understood everything.”  Apparently, the movie was done well enough even to include words and forms that are long since outdated and uncommon among today’s tiny Aramaic-speaking population.  Our guide, Hanna, has been away from Malula for many years, and his Aramaic has taken a hit as a result.  But his has-spoken-Aramaic-his-whole-life-and-never-left uncle, who has also has a better grasp on the older language… well, that’s another story.

So to Mel Gibson, from an uncle in Malula, I say, “Well done.”

Aleppo to Palmyra is five hours by bus.  We stopped midway at Hama, which apparently gets some Old Testament mention as Hamat.  Besides a chance to stretch, Hama offered us a chance to see some thousand-year-old water wheels.  These giant wooden wheels still lift water from the “lake” up into a stone aqueduct.  And as they work, they groan—a sound that reminds one of the Ents in the Lord of the Rings.  This stop was profound in no way at all.  But if you’re going to stretch your legs in a small Syrian city, why not do it where there’s a don’t-see-that-everyday sight waiting to be beheld?

The next stretch of road saw me enjoy some wonderful visiting.  My eyes didn’t see how it happened, but the next time I looked out my window, all traces of green had vanished and been replaced by desert as far as one could see.  Sometime after noon, we arrived on the outskirts of Palmyra, the most eastern point on our itinerary.  A decent lunch preceded the main course of the day—the ruins of ancient Palmyra.

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Departing early once again, we were told that it would take nearly four hours to arrive at the outskirts of Aleppo, and our first stop: The mountain of Simeon Stylite.  Last year in Turkey, I visited the site associated with Simeon Stylite, the younger.  Today was the site of his father (a spiritual reference rather than a biological one).

To appreciate the bizarre nature of these figures, my post from last year would likely help.

This led us into a discussion of desert spirituality and how it might speak to the church today.

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Any visit to Damascus would be incomplete without a stroll down Straight Street, so we began our morning with it.  In Acts 9, the home of Ananias was found here.  Today, it’s home to every church that can squeeze in, with boulevards containing stones excavated from the Roman-era road.  In other words, the streetside gardens contain rocks from “Paul’s Straight Street”.

Our primary stop was just off Straight Street, at a church marking the site of the home of Ananias.  The fact that the story of Acts 9 takes us to Judas’ house, as opposed to Ananias’, seems misplaced, but the spot commemorated Ananias’ place in Saul’s awakening, all the same.

In my mind, this is when the trip began.

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