Lazarus Abboud
These years passing through all the conflicts in the East are fateful years for all of us as Christians, and we must understand that the danger surrounding us is an existential danger that we do not perceive. We Christians still sing proudly that we are the foundation of the East and firm like the olive trees and the cedars of Lebanon, and that we are its people and the rest are guests upon us. But poetry does not write history, nor does it grow even grass. As for our emigration, no one will grieve, no one will weep, and no one will lament over us. We must come down from the “sycamore” (Lk 19:4) and meet the other — every other — and come together upon a common word, upon the word of Jesus.
If the meek alone inherit the earth, then meekness requires three decisions:
First: we must be candid with ourselves in a precise, scholarly, and objective frankness — that is, to enter into the “mystery of confession” as a community and as a Church, and to know our reality, our history, our capabilities, and our role, and to dare to undertake a true process of frank reckoning and to read our history in a correct, critical reading without being ashamed of it. For Christ was not ashamed of the sins and falls of His ancestors (Matthew 1), and we confess that we have erred, wronged, and been oppressive, and even that we have persecuted and neglected what belongs to our brother. We must say to ourselves: we have erred throughout history, and we as Orthodox have also erred. For there is no community in history that has not wounded and been wounded. Our history was not always a history of martyrs and confessor saints; rather, our history contains injustice that we committed knowingly or unknowingly, and sins. And we must acknowledge that the world does not revolve around our community, whichever it may be. History corrects the course of man, if it is made manifest.
Second, we must enter into a true and scholarly process of frank reckoning with the other Christian. For none of us can look upon the other as a second-class Christian: it is no fault of mine that I am Orthodox, and I did not choose to be born Protestant or Maronite, and it was not we who chose the schism; we were born heirs to this reality. Ought we not to work to change it?
We must declare plainly where the defect and the evil lie, and say to the Evangelical, for example: enough of the proselytizing and missionizing in a time of pain and weariness; and say to the Maronite: you are an Easterner and your fate is the fate of the people of the East, and what befalls us befalls you; and say to the Orthodox: enough of self-isolation and fear of the other, and your seniority does not protect your existence. We must enter into a process of frank reckoning that removes all the dross of history between us, and all that has clung to us of the injustice of the sects toward one another, wherever each sect prevailed over another by some political power and wronged the other.
We must understand that the difference in each one’s view of doctrines and faith does not divide us on the level of the pain, the grief, the oppression, and the injustice through which we are passing, which is one upon us all. We shall not be able now to be united on the level of the one cup (the sacrifice), but we are united by the one cup (the destiny). At the very least we must see that our families have been united through love and marriage, and consequently through destiny and future. We must take the families as a small model and translate it into a great project. And since the destiny (the cup) is one, we must translate the Gospel principle: “They had all things in common.” (Acts 2:44)
Third: we must enter into a process of frank reckoning with the Muslims of all sects, and let our speech be according to Christ: “Let your word be: Yes, yes; no, no.” (Mt 5:37). For the talk about the mosaic of the East and its diversity is talk that, for all its charm, has no meaning in determining the shape of our relationship together, nor in building our states, nor in the shape of our future. And on the other hand, it is as though our lands alone embraced diversity: the number of sects in our lands is as many as the fingers of both hands, and the conflict does not abate and fear devours us. Do America, Germany, Canada, Australia, and India contain one sect, one creed, and one language? Our lands are like all lands — nay, on the contrary, the least diverse and the most conflict-ridden.
We must enter into a true frank reckoning with the Shiites, the Sunnis, the Druze, the Alawites, and all Muslims — to say to them boldly: why are we afraid, and of what, and what do we want, and what are our visions for building these lands, and what are the matters whose repetition we fear. And let us say openly: we fear the repetition of the events of Aleppo, Damascus, and Mount Lebanon, and of the persecutions, and we reject what is happening in Iraq toward Christians, and we dialogue with the Islamic parties and groups without fear or dread, and we say what we fear: we fear the establishment of an Islamic state, a state of the caliphate and of wilayat al-faqih, or that we become dhimmis under someone’s patronage. And let us be frank with the other: your foreign relations and foreign agendas are a source of anxiety and fear.
In the end, we must take the initiative ourselves in calling for conferences and meetings, and call for a comprehensive reconciliation and the signing of national covenants together, and not wait for anyone to tell us what we ought to do and say, or to give us a role. For Christ, when He left the Church, left it to be Himself — bearing the sins of the world upon its shoulders, and working for its reform, its rescue, and its salvation. And just as Christ bore the sin of man, so we bear the sins of this East’s past and call for a comprehensive reconciliation that includes everyone and excludes no one. This is our destiny: the Master cast us into the world and ascended, that we might carry His responsibility as though every one of His errors were ours. And let us remember that Christ did not call us to rule the earth, nor to abandon its causes and its cares, but to save it on the national and spiritual level. For the meek alone save the earth and inherit it.
Our problem is that we see our community as pure, righteous, and everlasting — that it has not erred and has not committed any offense — and we always live in a tearful sense of victimhood. And it is astonishing to me how we, who preach the mystery of confession and repentance, do not confess the faults of our community and do not repent of what our own hands commit. We must humble ourselves: for we are not the chosen people of God, and we are not the best nation ever brought forth on earth. We are the people of Christ — a people whom, when Christ called us, He called to service, that is, to become servants (khadam). We must meet the other, and this is our responsibility — and I do not say the responsibility of whoever it may be — because Christ called His followers to save their societies.