JDEIDEH, Lebanon — It was not how Father Maroun Ghafari had envisioned this Holy Week — for years, he had held Easter sermons in his predominantly Christian village of Alma al-Shaab in southern Lebanon, near the border with Israel.
This year, he is preaching from a Beirut suburb, beside a cardboard cutout depicting his church in Alma al-Shaab, now caught in the crossfire between Israeli forces and Hezbollah fighters.
Since hostilities erupted last month between Israel and Lebanon’s Iran-backed Hezbollah militant group — in the shadow of the wider, U.S.-Israeli war on Iran — over 1,400 people have been killed in Lebanon, and more than 1 million have been forced to flee their homes.
Among those displaced from the war-torn south are thousands of Christians. They now find themselves far from their ancestral churches in Lebanon, where Christians have maintained a strong presence through centuries of Byzantine, Arab and Ottoman conquest and plenty of modern-day crises.
Christians are estimated to make up around a third of Lebanon’s population of roughly 5.5 million people. With 12 Christian sects, the country is home to the largest proportion of Christians of any nation in the Arab world.
Despite being far from the strikes in and around their villages in southern Lebanon, they were reminded of the war by the deep rumbling of Israeli jets and the sounds of deadly airstrikes over Beirut’s southern suburbs.
Huddling in a church, hoping for protection
Christian villagers who stayed behind in southern Lebanon, ignoring Israel’s blanket evacuation warnings for the area, have increasingly hardened into enclaves surrounded by fierce clashes.
And though villagers in Alma al-Shaab had been uprooted before, in the 2024 Israel-Hezbollah war, this time around, they were adamant they wouldn’t leave, even as airstrikes came closer and closer.
The villagers huddled in their church for protection as Israeli warplanes pounded large swaths of southern and eastern Lebanon while Israeli troops stepped up a ground invasion and Hezbollah kept firing rockets at Israel.
In his annual Easter homily, Patriarch Beshara al-Rai of Lebanon’s Maronite Church blamed both Hezbollah and Israel for the suffering wrought by the war.
“The country is going through a critical situation due to Iranian interference through Hezbollah and Israeli aggression,” he said. “Our hearts bleed for the victims of the conflict imposed on Lebanon.”
Ghafari’s brother, 70-year-old Sami Ghafari, was among the villagers who sought refuge at the church in Alma al-Shaab.
But he dashed out briefly on March 8 to tend to his garden, and was killed by an Israeli drone strike. His killing prompted the remaining villagers — including his brother — to pack up their belongings.
The U.N. peacekeepers in the area — a force known as UNIFIL that has monitored the region for nearly five decades — evacuated them to the northern suburbs of Beirut.
“We wanted to stay, but it was always possible that one of us could be targeted or killed at any moment,” Father Maroun Ghafari told The Associated Press from St. Anthony Church in the northern Beirut suburb of Jdeideh, where the displaced from Alma al-Shaab came to worship on Saturday.
“Everyone is tired, and we see that war brings nothing but destruction, death and displacement.”
Missing the ‘smell of home’
For many Lebanese Christians, it’s a tradition on Holy Saturday — the day between Good Friday, which commemorates the crucifixion and death of Jesus, and Easter Sunday, which marks his resurrection according to the Gospels — to visit the graves of their loved ones.
This year, displaced Christians could only reflect from afar.
Nabila Farah, dressed in black for the Saturday service at St. Anthony Church, was among the last to leave Alma al-Shaab. She still feels heartbroken, a month later.
“You miss the smell of home, the lovely traditions and customs, the sounds of the bells of three churches ringing,” she said, reminiscing about her village. “As much as we experience the Easter atmosphere here, it will never be as it is over there.”
Those who remain face other challenges.
Marius Khairallah, a priest in the southern Lebanese city of Tyre, where much of the Christian community has hunkered down, says that he and his congregants are staying put “not out of stubbornness, but out of a sense of mission, to remain alongside their fellow faithful, as witnesses.”
“A significant number of parishioners have been displaced or are absent,” he said. “Yet churches still open their doors. Prayers are still raised — even with fewer voices.”
Worries are mounting among Christians in the area as the Lebanese army — which seeks to stay neutral in the Israel-Hezbollah war — pulls out from parts of southern Lebanon, leaving them exposed to Israeli forces pushing deeper into the territory.
St. Antony’s main priest, Father Dori Fayyad, used his Good Friday sermon to take solemn note of the war’s widening toll on the southern Lebanese Christians, as the faithful recited prayers in Arabic and Syriac, a dialect of the Aramaic language spoken by Jesus.
“Today, you understand what the cross means, not as an idea, not as a concept, but because you are going through it,” he told the fully packed pews, the crowd so thick that dozens had to stand or crouch on the back stairs.
Some wiped away tears as Fayyad named one by one the southern churches, illustrated in the cardboard cutouts next to the pulpit.
“These churches in these villages are not only places of worship,” he said. “They are silent witnesses to suffering and to faith.”
Associated Press video journalist Ali Sharafeddine in Jdeideh, Lebanon, contributed to this report.
Facts Only
Father Maroun Ghafari, a Christian priest from Alma al-Shaab in southern Lebanon, is now preaching in a Beirut suburb due to the conflict.
Over 1,400 people have been killed in Lebanon since hostilities erupted between Israel and Hezbollah.
More than 1 million people have been displaced from their homes in Lebanon.
Christians make up about a third of Lebanon’s population of roughly 5.5 million people.
Alma al-Shaab is near the border with Israel and has been caught in the crossfire between Israeli forces and Hezbollah fighters.
Patriarch Beshara al-Rai of Lebanon’s Maronite Church blamed both Hezbollah and Israel for the suffering caused by the war.
Sami Ghafari, the brother of Father Maroun Ghafari, was killed by an Israeli drone strike on March 8 while tending to his garden.
UN peacekeepers (UNIFIL) evacuated remaining villagers from Alma al-Shaab to northern Beirut suburbs.
Displaced Christians from southern Lebanon are worshipping at St. Anthony Church in Jdeideh, a Beirut suburb.
Many Christians traditionally visit graves of loved ones on Holy Saturday, but displaced individuals could not do so this year.
Marius Khairallah, a priest in Tyre, stated that some Christians remain in southern Lebanon out of a sense of mission.
The Lebanese army has pulled out from parts of southern Lebanon, leaving some Christian communities exposed to Israeli forces.
Father Dori Fayyad of St. Antony’s Church noted the war’s toll on southern Lebanese Christians during his Good Friday sermon.
Executive Summary
The ongoing conflict between Israel and Hezbollah has displaced over a million people in Lebanon, including thousands of Christians from southern villages like Alma al-Shaab. Father Maroun Ghafari, a priest from Alma al-Shaab, now preaches in a Beirut suburb after his village became a battleground. The war has killed over 1,400 in Lebanon, with Israeli airstrikes and Hezbollah rocket fire escalating tensions. Christians, who make up about a third of Lebanon’s population, have been particularly affected, with many seeking refuge in churches or fleeing to safer areas. Patriarch Beshara al-Rai of the Maronite Church criticized both Hezbollah and Israel for the suffering, while displaced Christians mourn the loss of their traditions and homes. The Lebanese army’s withdrawal from parts of southern Lebanon has left some Christian communities vulnerable to Israeli advances. Despite the displacement, churches remain open, and prayers continue, though with fewer attendees. The conflict has disrupted long-standing Christian traditions, such as visiting graves on Holy Saturday, and has forced many to reflect on their faith amid destruction and displacement.
The situation highlights the broader impact of the Israel-Hezbollah conflict on Lebanon’s diverse communities, with Christians caught in the crossfire. The displacement has severed ties to ancestral lands and traditions, while the remaining villagers face increasing dangers. The international community, including UN peacekeepers, has played a role in evacuating civilians, but the conflict shows no signs of abating. The emotional and spiritual toll on displaced Christians is profound, as they grapple with the loss of their homes and the uncertainty of their future.
Full Take
The strongest version of this narrative highlights the human cost of the Israel-Hezbollah conflict, particularly its impact on Lebanon’s Christian communities. The article effectively captures the displacement, loss, and resilience of Christians in southern Lebanon, providing a poignant account of their struggles. It acknowledges the role of both Hezbollah and Israel in the suffering, as stated by Patriarch Beshara al-Rai, and avoids simplistic blame. The emotional weight of the story is undeniable, with personal accounts of loss and displacement adding depth to the reporting.
However, the narrative could be vulnerable to emotional exploitation, particularly in its focus on the suffering of Christians, which may evoke sympathy but could also be used to frame the conflict in sectarian terms. The article does not engage in overt distortion or bad faith, but the emphasis on Christian displacement might inadvertently downplay the broader humanitarian crisis affecting all communities in Lebanon. The historical context of Christian presence in Lebanon is noted, but the article does not explore the broader geopolitical dynamics driving the conflict, such as Iran’s influence or the U.S.-Israeli stance.
The root cause of this narrative is the ongoing Israel-Hezbollah conflict, which is framed as a proxy war with broader regional implications. The assumptions underlying the story include the idea that Christians are particularly vulnerable in this conflict, which may be true but could also be used to advance a specific agenda. The historical pattern echoes the long-standing tensions in the Middle East, where religious and ethnic minorities often bear the brunt of larger geopolitical struggles.
The implications for human agency and dignity are profound. Displaced Christians are forced to abandon their homes and traditions, while those who remain face increasing dangers. The second-order consequences include the erosion of social cohesion in Lebanon, as communities are uprooted and scattered. The Lebanese army’s withdrawal from southern Lebanon further exacerbates the vulnerability of these communities, raising questions about the state’s ability to protect its citizens.
Bridge questions: What perspectives are missing from this narrative? How might the experiences of other religious or ethnic groups in Lebanon compare to those of Christians? What would it take to shift the focus from sectarian suffering to a broader humanitarian crisis?
Counterstrike scan: If this narrative were part of a coordinated influence campaign, it might emphasize the suffering of Christians to garner international sympathy or support for a particular political agenda. However, the article does not appear to match this pattern, as it provides a balanced account of the conflict’s impact on Christians without overtly advancing a sectarian or political agenda.
Patterns detected: none
Sentinel — Human
This text shows signs of human authorship. The writing features a variable sentence length, demonstrates emotional engagement, and includes personal narratives, which are indicative of human writing.