The Road to Damascus

June 03, 2023

The Road to Damascus

Pre-script: There's been several travels since Myanmar. Somehow, I never got the chance to write about them. Last year, I felt compelled to write about this particular place I spent 2 months in but then responsibilities (from my many roles) took front and center. Anyhow, Damascus... it feels like a shame if I don't manage to pen anything down about this trip. Also, somehow, the universe arranged everything so that my main tasks for that trip are settled quite swiftly, allowing me this time and space. And so I'm taking them...

As he was approaching Damascus on this mission, a light from heaven suddenly shone down around him. Acts 9:3. He fell to the ground ad heard a voice saying to him, "Saul! Saul! Why are you persecuting me?" "Who are you, Lord?" Saul asked. And the voice replied, "I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting! Now get up and go into the city and you will be told what you must do." Acts 9:4-5 (NLT)

Leaving the Umayyad Mosque

My first (technically my second) and last day in Syria was spent in the Old City of Damascus. It was fortuitous as I arrived there on an Eid holiday so no work. While I did work for the first part of the day, by late afternoon, I felt I needed to make time to see the old city as I would actually be traveling soon to Aleppo and might not have the chance again. My interest really was the Ummayad Mosque but sadly, was not able to visit that as it was quite late and it might be close by the time we get there. My disappointment was short-lived however because where we went to instead was definitely something special.

It felt a bit surreal to be passing through narrow alleys, cobbled streets with drains in the middle. (I remembered Petra in Jordan, momentarily). At first I thought Jesus might have walked on these very street in the past but was not so certain. The only time I remember Damascus was mentioned in the Bible was in reference to the zealous Saul's transformation into St. Paul. Nonetheless I felt goosebumps all over.

That day we went to the St. Ananias Church. As we were entering, a priest and another man in brown robes passed us by. One was bringing a censer, with "smoke" coming out of it. It turned out that we were just in time for a Mass.

Note that this was the same church where St. Ananias went to find Saul as Jesus had directed him and gave him back his sight. This is also where Masses were held in the past. As Christians were persecuted at that time, this was in the underground. We had to descend to the church through some steps. In approaching the steps, we passed by this opening (like a blow-hole) and we could hear the entrance song echoing from the walls, making its way through the opening. Reaching the bottom, I found myself in what would appear like a cellar with domed ceilings all made of stone. It wasn't such a big space. There was the altar in the middle with a few pews. We sat at the back, just beside the stair case. There were a few people there.

I was jetlagged and exhausted from the two day journey so while my head is acknowledging how significant this experience is and how grateful I was, I felt I was less enthusiastic than I should be. How often does one get to go to Syria? Let alone find myself in a place that is of historical significance to my faith and my personal relationship with my God?

It was easy to imagine how this place must have looked in the ancient times when the first Christians worship in secret. With all the persecution going on, it must have taken a lot of courage to even think about going, much more to really be there. Much faith it must have took. Much love. There was no side entrance, secret passage to that place. If one finds them there, then there is no means of escape. I looked at the massive stone walls and could almost see in my mind's eye how the gathering must have been like, with nothing but candles to illuminate them. I said to myself, oh what these walls must have witnessed. If it could talk, the many stories it could tell. I wanted to take some photos but as there was an ongoing Mass, it would have been disrespectful. (Good to have found this site then)

Main gate to the Old City
and the Strait (main street)

From there we headed to the "Strait," the old city's main street. There were many shops lining the street as expected. A lot of them are antique shops and one could only dream about being able to buy Syrian chandeliers and lamps and what-not's. They are not only costly but how to bring them safely back home thru overland border-crossing and 3 flights thereafter, is unthinkable.

Standing by the main gate -- the same one where St. Paul (then as Saul) who was blind entered the city to begin his journey towards conversion -- it felt unbelievable. How grand is that? It is pretty humbling. I looked at the crowd going through the main street towards the restaurants and shops there, it is quite easy to imagine how it must have been from the ancient times. It's quite surreal to think of how Jesus, at one point, must have stared at the same street from the gate and walked there amongst the crowd...

I spent a few days in Damascus after that but soon after I flew into Aleppo, where the Earthquake Response really is "based." (That is the whole purpose of this trip after all). Aleppo is worth a focused blog altogether. It was a hectic assignment but also a bit more "relaxed" (if one can call it that haha) than my previous RTR experiences. I traveled back to Damascus 2 days before I was to leave. There were many work concerns but I knew I would regret it if I wouldn't find time to go to the Umayyad Mosque. So after a long day of writing a report, giving de-brief to the head of office, off I went.

Salahuddin's Tomb

Once there, we first went to the tomb of Salahuddin, a significant person in Islamic history. Outside the tomb were columns that are likely to be what's left of the Roman temple that used to stand there. As I was looking at them, I thought in wonder at how this place dates back to the Iron age, starting with pagan gods; to Roman god, Jupiter; to its Christian history and finally to its being a mosque. It is one of the oldest and biggest mosques in the world. I pondered if "holy ground" is somehow "pre-ordained." After all, how would different places of worship be built in the same spot over the years? I thought it must be similar to where birds would often converge in great numbers in the same place (e.g. near the traffic lights in our city's case), as if attracted by something only nature knows. On second thought, it must not be as "magical" as I first thought it to be. It is mostly likely be a case of human nature's wanting to show dominance -- by building over "a place of relevance" of their conquest as a way of asserting their own. But who am I to come, several centuries over, and make some judgments?

The Roman Columns

I've read numerous articles about the history of the place and even related literature which reminded me of the previous books I've read about the history of Islam. It was even more fascinating when I learned from my readings that a Shrine for Imam Hussein can be found inside as well. It was for the time when his head was put there in display in the past.

THAT, is quite fascinating considering that my interest in going there was the Shrine within the mosque that tradition holds to be where the head of John the Baptist was buried. Mind-boggling, right? Both Islamic and Christian traditions maintained this. To our Muslim sisters and brothers, John the Baptist is Yahya and revered as a prophet as well.

John the Baptist Shrine

My head (no pun intended really and only it is at a later edit have I noticed that I used this term) can't even begin to comprehend how these two important pieces of history converge in this one place.

The whole complex was huge. The mosque itself was massive both inside and out. We had to wear robes, that covered us from head to toe, in order to enter there. There were brown and blue robes. We ended donning on the blue ones.

As we were approaching the Shrine for John the Baptist, I felt everything was all surreal. I was quiet the whole time there. At one point, a beautiful woman in a hijab approached me and said that this place (Shrine) is a special one and grant everyone's prayers.

What does one pray for? If there is certainty that everything will be granted? I prayed mostly for the children and I felt myself "scanning" my brain for things that I should ask for. We were already walking away when I remembered, "world peace." I smiled to myself then thinking, have this become such a "cliche" that no one thinks it is achievable anymore? Prayer or not? I find that ironic, considering I'm in the heart of Syria, and still very much in the middle of conflict.

Entrance to the Old Souk

Going outside, I spied the entrance to the old souk (market). It would have been nice to go there but it was getting late and as it was Thursday night, the beginning of weekend, there were a lot of people there. So we made our way back to the main street. We had to meet the other RTR team members for dinner to cap our assignment there. The funny thing was, we had dinner in the same restaurant that I ate in, on my first day there. (Talk about capping the trip alright) Even during dinner we were talking about the history of Damascus, of the more modern times.

I am massively grateful for this trip. I came to Syria to do my job. A job that I love, I must add. And yet, I had to come across a very rich history as well. This whole blog could not fully capture all the things I've seen, the stories and history I've heard and stumbled upon. I feel very much humbled and privileged.

Indeed it was "the road to Damascus" for me. I travelled to Damascus thru Jordan, taking a road trip straight from the airport in Amman towards the Syrian Najib border. A part of me felt it had to be a road trip so I can make a similar spiritual journey that St. Paul did towards his own conversion. Like him, I'm blind to many things. While I may cling to my faith and try to live it the best way I could, and always truly grateful for everything God has showered me in return, I think this whole journey is again another demonstration to me of how He holds true to His promise -- "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him." (1st Cor 2:9, NLT).

Some more photos: