Antoine Audo
Today, the first Sunday of Lent, will see churches crowded across the globe.
But here in Syria, where St Paul found his faith, many churches stand empty,
targets for bombardment and desecration. Aleppo, where I have been bishop
for 25 years, is devastated. We have become accustomed to the daily dose of
death and destruction, but living in such uncertainty and fear exhausts the
body and the mind.
We hear the thunder of bombs and the rattle of gunfire, but we don’t always
know what is happening. It’s hard to describe how chaotic, terrifying and
psychologically difficult it is when you have no idea what will happen next,
or where the next rocket will fall. Many Christians cope with the tension by
being fatalistic: that whatever happens is God’s will.
Until the war began, Syria was one of the last remaining strongholds for
Christianity in the Middle East. We have 45 churches in Aleppo. But now our
faith is under mortal threat, in danger of being driven into extinction, the
same pattern we have seen in neighbouring Iraq.
Most Christians who could afford to leave Aleppo have already fled for
Lebanon, so as to find schools for their children. Those who remain are
mostly from poor families. Many can no longer put food on the table. Last
year, even amid intense fighting, you could see people in the streets
running around endlessly trying to find bread in one of the shops.
The health system has also fallen apart. In the hospitals, many doctors have
been threatened and forced to flee, so people fear that if they do get
injured there will be no one to treat them. I thank God for the few brave
surgeons who have stayed.
Most people here are now unemployed, and – without work – daily life lacks a purpose. People have no way to wash and their clothes are ragged. We have almost no electricity, and depression reigns at night. But when the darkness comes, I take courage from the fact that it was not always like this.
Most people here are now unemployed, and – without work – daily life lacks a purpose. People have no way to wash and their clothes are ragged. We have almost no electricity, and depression reigns at night. But when the darkness comes, I take courage from the fact that it was not always like this.
Syrians lived together for many years as a country, as a civilisation and a
culture without hate or violence. Most people are not interested in
sectarian divisions. We just want to work and live as we did before the war,
when people of all faiths co-existed peacefully.
Syrian Christians may face great peril, but we have a crucial role to play in restoring peace. We have no interest in power, no stake in the spoils of this war, no objective but to rebuild our society.
As president of the Catholic aid charity Caritas, I am co-ordinating emergency relief for tens of thousands of people of all faiths, who desperately lack food, medical care and shelter, working in areas held both by the government and by armed opposition groups. We have many centres where people come to receive aid, and our volunteers go out to find those too weak, sick, old or young to help themselves. We support people of all backgrounds.
It is dangerous work. Five months ago, two rockets hit our offices, and it was truly a miracle that no one was killed.
As for me, I have to be careful walking around the city because of the risk of snipers and kidnapping. The fate of two priests snatched on the road from Aleppo to Damascus remains unknown. People fear for my safety and tell me to discard my bishop’s robes or hide away entirely.
But I cannot work unless I am in the streets to understand the situation and the suffering of the people. I am sustained by the daily acts of solidarity from my brothers and sisters around the world – including those from the British Church and its aid agency Cafod – with their prayers and donations. And as I walk through the dust and the rubble, I am not afraid.
St Paul’s virtues of faith, hope and love have rarely been in greater need, or under greater pressure, as we face the fourth year of this war. But I have faith in God’s protection, hope for our future, and my love of this country and all its peoples will outlast this war. I must believe that, and I pray that you in Britain will stand with us as long as our struggles endure.
Bishop Antoine Audo SJ is the Chaldean Bishop of Aleppo and president of Caritas Syria
Syrian Christians may face great peril, but we have a crucial role to play in restoring peace. We have no interest in power, no stake in the spoils of this war, no objective but to rebuild our society.
As president of the Catholic aid charity Caritas, I am co-ordinating emergency relief for tens of thousands of people of all faiths, who desperately lack food, medical care and shelter, working in areas held both by the government and by armed opposition groups. We have many centres where people come to receive aid, and our volunteers go out to find those too weak, sick, old or young to help themselves. We support people of all backgrounds.
It is dangerous work. Five months ago, two rockets hit our offices, and it was truly a miracle that no one was killed.
As for me, I have to be careful walking around the city because of the risk of snipers and kidnapping. The fate of two priests snatched on the road from Aleppo to Damascus remains unknown. People fear for my safety and tell me to discard my bishop’s robes or hide away entirely.
But I cannot work unless I am in the streets to understand the situation and the suffering of the people. I am sustained by the daily acts of solidarity from my brothers and sisters around the world – including those from the British Church and its aid agency Cafod – with their prayers and donations. And as I walk through the dust and the rubble, I am not afraid.
St Paul’s virtues of faith, hope and love have rarely been in greater need, or under greater pressure, as we face the fourth year of this war. But I have faith in God’s protection, hope for our future, and my love of this country and all its peoples will outlast this war. I must believe that, and I pray that you in Britain will stand with us as long as our struggles endure.
Bishop Antoine Audo SJ is the Chaldean Bishop of Aleppo and president of Caritas Syria
