Maloula: A Town Where Christ Can Still Feel at Home
By: Habeeb Salloum/Arab America Contributing Writer
The sun shone brightly as we drove north from Damascus on an excellent four lane highway which once wound its way through barren hills. However, today, trees that were eventually planted now line both sides of the roadway. Villages have expanded into towns that dot the land, breaking the monotony of the desert landscape. About 50 kilometres from the historic yet ultra-modern capital of Syria, we turned on a small road toward Maloula, 6 kilometres away. A unique and intriguing Syrian town where the language of Christ is still spoken, we could hardly wait to meet its inhabitants and explore its legendary religious sites.
Passing the village of Ayn Tin newly built just over three decades ago, we followed the edge of a narrow valley filled with green gardens and flowering trees – a sharp contrast to the surrounding rocky desert countryside. In a few minutes, around the last bend up the road, Maloula, an Aramean word meaning entrance, came suddenly into view. At first glance, the village seemed to be sprouting from the overhanging cliffs. Its houses were clustered along ledges on the vertical face of the limestone mountain encompassing it on three sides. The blueish purple or yellowish stone and cement homes appeared as if they were at the point of being crushed by the seemingly suspended boulders on the higher parts of the encircling heights. From a distance everything glittered in the sunlight. On the other hand, some of the older dwellings where only the front could be seen were built into caves which are believed to have been inhabited as far back as the prehistoric era.
We stopped on the valley floor in the middle of the village and hailed three young men passing by. After greetings and niceties, I asked them to speak in Aramaic with each other so we could hear the tongue of Christ. Seemingly embarrassed, two of the men complied. The language they spoke is a close relative of Arabic which is now for all purposes the idiom of the inhabitants. Although the residents of Maloula and the two adjoining villages of Bakh’a and Jub’adin still speak Aramaic, very few know it as a written language. There is little doubt that in a few decades it will fade away as have many other idioms in the Middle East.
From the valley floor, taking the road to the left, we climbed up a steep ravine until we reached a plateau dotted with orchards of grape vines and fruit trees. Our goal was the Greek Catholic Monastery of Mar Sarkis overlooking the town below. It was erected in the early Christian centuries on a site of a pagan temple and has been an important holy place ever since.
We entered the Monastery through a four feet high door, built to humble the monks and as a defense against invaders. Inside, the learned Father Michel Zaroura took us for a tour of the building. As we walked, he related the history of the monastery of Mar Sarkis. He spoke with pride about his place of worship which he claimed is erected on the spot where the world’s first Christian church was built. In the chapel he directed our attention to one of the original stone altars in Christendom – a modified version of the earlier pagan sacrificial slabs. Unlike the pagan altars, it did not have any holes for the dripping of blood and no pictures of animals engraved on its face. At the end of our tour, Father Zaroura played for us a recording of the Lord’s Prayer in Aramaic – perhaps the only one made in that language for the ears of tourists.
Leaving Mar Sarkis behind, we drove back to the centre of town, then took a road to the right until we reached a terrace half-way up the slope on the northern face of the mountain. Here, partially built into a cave, is the imposing Greek Orthodox convent of Saint Taqla. Erected in the 1st century A.D., it is considered to be the oldest convent in the world. Saint Taqla, after whom the convent is named, made her abode in a cave high on the limestone ridge and her remains are buried inside the convent. One of the earliest Saints in Christianity, she is credited with establishing Maloula.
It is said that Saint Taqla was converted by Saint Paul and became one of his pupils. When her pagan father heard of her conversion, he became furious and sent his soldiers to kill her. Fleeing from his wrath, she reached the site where today Maloula stands. Finding a high mountain standing in her path she raised her hands and prayed with passion as the soldiers neared. The mountain split at once and she passed safely and hid in one of the caves. Today, the residents point to a narrow chasm in the mountain near the convent, as proof of this story.
The convent has had parts haphazardly added on through the ages until it has become a rambling-type structure. A series of steps and terraces lead to various sections of the building which all have some historical connection. However, the most interesting part is the grotto where the water dripping from its rocky ceiling into a trough is said to possess miraculous power. Many pilgrims, believing it will cure all ailments, drink this water from a cup attached by a chain to the trough.
Tourists and pilgrims come in the thousands to visit this convent and the Monastery of Mar Sarkis. Others come to view the many grottos with Greek inscriptions dating back to the 1st century A.D. However, a fair number of visitors like ourselves journey to hear the residents of the village speak the Aramaic language in which Jesus Christ talked and preached.
This ancient idiom was once spoken throughout the Near East but has now almost disappeared. It is preserved only orally by the few thousand mostly Greek Catholic residents of Maloula, Bakh’a and Jub’adin.
Stopping in the village square before departing, we again asked some passersby to speak in this almost forgotten language. “We must be museum pieces”, an old man mused. “A few months ago, visitors from France came here just to tape our language and today you are doing the same. Why is it so important to foreigners that we still converse in the tongue of our Lord Jesus Christ?”. No matter how strange it seemed to the outsider, to the men of the village it was only natural that in an encompassing sea of Arabic, they still preserved the Aramaic tongue.
As we drove away and Maloula faded from view, I thought, truly, this town is worth a visit. In its location, buildings, holy places, and language it is as the old man suggested, a living museum.
