To the solemn beat of a drum, a black cross traversed the Church of Saint James in Beit Hanina. This Friday evening, the first of August, the church was filled. Over 500 people, including many young people and families, have responded to the invitation from the Latin parish of Jerusalem: “come and pray for your persecuted brethren in the Middle East”. Behind the black cross of martyrs are two doves and a panel on which, next to the Syrian, Iraqi and Palestinian flags, reads the inscription: “We are united, and our wounds are one”.
Joining the wave of prayer spreading day after day from the Middle East and the world over, Mgr. Shomali, accompanied by Fras Feras and Haitham, presided over the mass for this particular intention. In a sign of unity and of the concern of the entire church, Mgr. Giuseppe Lazzarotto, the Apostolic Nuncio, also attended. The prayers were borne aloft by the fervor and beauty of the singing of the Jerusalem Knights Choir. In his homily, Mgr. Shomali refused to talk politics. “I have come to talk to you about mercy and peace,” he announced. Taking up the words of Pope Francis at Yad Vashem last May (“Where are you, Man? Where did you go? Man, who are you? I don’t recognize you any more. Of what horror were you capable? What made you fall so far?”). He invited the congregation to reflect on disasters caused by hate. If God is merciful, Jesus came to show mankind that this mercy must be theirs. If we must be intransigent, let us start first with our sin and refuse to look at the sin of our fellows, even if he is our enemy for a time. “Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy,” concluded Mgr. Shomali. Sensitivity to misery and suffering is fundamental, but there is no peace without forgiveness. That was the message he gave.
At the conclusion of the liturgy, Father Feras invited the congregation to adoration of the Eucharist, the same Eucharist that repelled the Saracens from Saint Damien’s Monastery in Assisi in 1241. “Although she was ill, Saint Clare arose, prayed, took hold of the ciborium and held it up before the aggressors, who were struck blind and fled.” With these words, a call for deep prayer and courage, the vigil ended. “I came to demonstrate my solidarity for my Christian brothers. I don’t know them, but I know what it is to lose those close to you in war. In our powerlessness, we still have prayer,” shared Nader, a parishioner from Beit Hanina. A little further on, Roula, surrounded by her children, says, “This evening I came to tell my children that being a Christian is being part of a large family that extends beyond our parish, and that not only Palestinians suffer.” This is a message that Pope Francis has not ceased sharing since his election: “In the countries where Christians are killed for wearing a cross or because they have a Bible, the killers do not ask if they are Anglican, Lutheran, Catholic or Orthodox. Their blood is mixed together. For those who kill, it is an ecumenism of blood” (December 2013).
Fra Haitham, an Iraqi national, echoes this ecumenism of blood: “My heart is wounded, not to say pierced. But I do not feel alone; I feel surrounded by my Palestinian parish. This evening’s vigil was organized by Franciscan youth. There is a real dynamism of heart and prayer, and from prayer to action, may it be answered.”
E.R.
Joining the wave of prayer spreading day after day from the Middle East and the world over, Mgr. Shomali, accompanied by Fras Feras and Haitham, presided over the mass for this particular intention. In a sign of unity and of the concern of the entire church, Mgr. Giuseppe Lazzarotto, the Apostolic Nuncio, also attended. The prayers were borne aloft by the fervor and beauty of the singing of the Jerusalem Knights Choir. In his homily, Mgr. Shomali refused to talk politics. “I have come to talk to you about mercy and peace,” he announced. Taking up the words of Pope Francis at Yad Vashem last May (“Where are you, Man? Where did you go? Man, who are you? I don’t recognize you any more. Of what horror were you capable? What made you fall so far?”). He invited the congregation to reflect on disasters caused by hate. If God is merciful, Jesus came to show mankind that this mercy must be theirs. If we must be intransigent, let us start first with our sin and refuse to look at the sin of our fellows, even if he is our enemy for a time. “Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy,” concluded Mgr. Shomali. Sensitivity to misery and suffering is fundamental, but there is no peace without forgiveness. That was the message he gave.
At the conclusion of the liturgy, Father Feras invited the congregation to adoration of the Eucharist, the same Eucharist that repelled the Saracens from Saint Damien’s Monastery in Assisi in 1241. “Although she was ill, Saint Clare arose, prayed, took hold of the ciborium and held it up before the aggressors, who were struck blind and fled.” With these words, a call for deep prayer and courage, the vigil ended. “I came to demonstrate my solidarity for my Christian brothers. I don’t know them, but I know what it is to lose those close to you in war. In our powerlessness, we still have prayer,” shared Nader, a parishioner from Beit Hanina. A little further on, Roula, surrounded by her children, says, “This evening I came to tell my children that being a Christian is being part of a large family that extends beyond our parish, and that not only Palestinians suffer.” This is a message that Pope Francis has not ceased sharing since his election: “In the countries where Christians are killed for wearing a cross or because they have a Bible, the killers do not ask if they are Anglican, Lutheran, Catholic or Orthodox. Their blood is mixed together. For those who kill, it is an ecumenism of blood” (December 2013).
Fra Haitham, an Iraqi national, echoes this ecumenism of blood: “My heart is wounded, not to say pierced. But I do not feel alone; I feel surrounded by my Palestinian parish. This evening’s vigil was organized by Franciscan youth. There is a real dynamism of heart and prayer, and from prayer to action, may it be answered.”
E.R.