Imagine an ancient Christian community, clinging to its roots in a land scarred by conflict and crisis. That's Lebanon today, and their hope hinges on the arrival of a new spiritual leader: Pope Leo XIV. But will his visit truly offer solace and a path forward?
In the heart of Lebanon's mountainous region, the Monastery of Mar Maroun in Annaya stands as a testament to the enduring presence of Christianity. The resonant clang of bells, orchestrated by a black-clad priest pulling on a white rope, signaled the commencement of evening mass. This very monastery, overlooking the vast expanse of the Mediterranean Sea, is slated to be a pivotal stop during Pope Leo XIV's upcoming three-day visit to Lebanon, a journey commencing this Sunday. This trip follows a visit to Turkey, marking the Pope's first foreign excursion.
The congregation that late November evening may have been modest in size, but their voices soared as they chanted hymns, some even in Syriac – a dialect of Aramaic, believed to be the language spoken by Jesus himself. This highlights the deep historical roots of Christianity in Lebanon.
For centuries, Christianity has been interwoven with the very fabric of Lebanon. And this is the part most people miss: it's not just a religion here, it's a cultural identity. Yet, this ancient community finds its foothold increasingly precarious. Waves of Christian emigration over recent decades have seen many seeking new lives in the United States, Canada, Europe, South America, Australia, and beyond.
The last papal visit, by Benedict XVI in May 2012, feels like a lifetime ago. Since then, Lebanon, encompassing both its Christian and Muslim populations, has been relentlessly battered. They've endured a revolution that ultimately faltered, a devastating economic implosion, the global Covid-19 pandemic, the catastrophic Beirut port explosion, and yet another conflict with Israel. Each event has deepened existing sectarian fault lines in a nation that officially recognizes 18 distinct faiths and sects. Pope Leo’s visit is inevitably viewed through this lens.
"They have become stronger than us," lamented Thérèse Hanna, a woman in her seventies, as she exited the monastery after mass.
"They, who?" I inquired.
"The Shia," she responded with unwavering conviction, adding, "Of course, the Pope knows that."
Shia Muslims currently constitute Lebanon's largest single sect. Once relegated to the margins of society, they have experienced a remarkable surge in numbers, wealth, and political influence. This ascendance is most visibly embodied by Hezbollah, the armed group turned political party that has engaged in protracted conflict with Israel, most recently in the wake of the October 7, 2023 Hamas attacks, until a fragile ceasefire was brokered a year ago.
The rise of Shia power undeniably presents the most significant challenge to the established Christian influence in Lebanon – a reality acutely felt by all. But here's where it gets controversial... This isn't necessarily a straightforward conflict. Hezbollah has, on occasion, formed alliances with Christian political parties. Politics, as they say, makes for strange bedfellows. Could this visit potentially shift these alliances, or further entrench the existing divisions?
The first official papal visit to Lebanon took place in May 1997, when John Paul II arrived as the nation was struggling to recover from the devastating 1975-1990 civil war. Despite the ongoing Israeli occupation in the south and Syrian presence in the rest of the country, a sense of optimism prevailed. Many who had fled the ravages of war were returning, drawn by promises of aid and investment. Beirut was undergoing a frenzied construction boom. A revitalized Lebanon seemed poised to rise from the ashes.
However, the trials and tribulations of the past decade have relegated that era of hope to the realm of distant memory. The Lebanese economy continues to flounder, crippled by endemic corruption and mismanagement. And while a ceasefire might suggest that active hostilities with Israel have ceased, this is a dangerous illusion.
Almost daily, Israeli warplanes and drones violate Lebanese airspace, conducting strikes within the country. Israeli officials assert that Hezbollah has not fully withdrawn from its positions along the southern border and is actively re-arming and regrouping. Furthermore, Israel continues to occupy five strategically important locations on the Lebanese side of the border.
Just a week before Pope Leo's scheduled arrival in Beirut, an Israeli airstrike in the capital resulted in the death of Haytham Ali Tabatabai, a 57-year-old senior Hezbollah military commander.
Hezbollah, for its part, has refrained from launching attacks on Israel since the ceasefire took effect on November 27 of the previous year.
In Beirut, a cynical joke circulates: the US-brokered ceasefire means that Hezbollah must cease its activities, while Israel is free to fire at will.
This is merely a glimpse into the intricate and often contradictory tapestry that is Lebanon, the destination for Pope Leo's first overseas trip. The pontiff's visit will be concise, arriving from Turkey on Sunday and departing for Rome on Tuesday. He is scheduled to meet with religious and political leaders and preside over a series of events, the highlight being a Mass held on the Beirut waterfront on Tuesday.
There, workers have meticulously arranged tens of thousands of pristine white plastic chairs facing a massive stage. The backdrop of the stage prominently features the phrase "blessed are the peacemakers" in both French and Arabic, flanked by the word "peace" translated into numerous languages (conspicuously absent is Hebrew), alongside depictions of Lebanon's iconic cedar trees.
The waterfront itself was created after the civil war by dumping countless tons of rubble from the ruins of Beirut into the sea. "Not just rubble," pointed out CNN cameraman Charbel Mallo, a Lebanese native, during a visit to the site. "There are bones here too." This stark reminder underscores the immense human cost of the conflict, with over 150,000 lives lost.
Despite the overwhelming challenges, a resilient spirit of hope persists in this land. Outside the Monastery of Mar Maroun, Souad Khoury and her husband, Fadi, expressed optimism about the Pope's visit.
"We've been through a lot," said Souad. "We are a country of faith. We are strong. We are still on the land."
What do you think Pope Leo's visit will accomplish? Can it truly bring lasting hope and peace to Lebanon, or is it a temporary balm on deep wounds? Will it bridge divides or unintentionally exacerbate existing tensions? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
