Bishops from across south eastern Europe are concluding a meeting in Nicosia, Cyprus
which has been looking at the vital work of youth ministry ahead of World Youth Day
in Madrid later this year. The meeting organised by the Council of European Bishops
Conferences has been hosted by the Maronite church in Cyprus, the largest of four
minority Catholic communities. Philippa Hitchen is in Cyprus with the bishops and
sends this report.
‘A journey through time’ was the title of a multimedia musical
performance staged for the bishops on their last evening in Nicosia by students from
a state school named after St Maron, founder of the Maronite Catholic community. Through
popular songs and dances, to a backdrop of old photographs and film footage, the children
clad in traditional embroidered costumes re-enacted the story of their proud and turbulent
past, a people deeply attached to the land part of which is no longer theirs. Earlier
in the day we had crossed the dividing line that has run like an ugly great scar across
this magnificent Mediterranean island since Turkish troops occupied the northern part
in 1974. Together with the visiting bishops, a few local clergy and their friends,
I boarded a bus, handed over my passport and was driven through a ghostly no-man’s
land, past deserted shells of houses with grass growing up around the broken windows
and scattered groups of soldiers standing idly by. Once on the Turkish side there
is a large statue of Ataturk and dozens of red and white flags – the largest flag
is dug into the mountainside and lit up at night, making it visible as soon as you
arrive at the main Larnaka airport almost an hour’s drive away on the Greek side of
the island. From the windows of the bus I caught glimpses of long abandoned villages,
a bombed out Orthodox monastery with crumbling cloisters and flocks of sheep grazing
on the wide grassy plane. After following a narrow winding road for a short while
we arrived at the village of Karpasha which counts less than a dozen very elderly
inhabitants, those Maronite men and women who refused to flee during the invasion
and have remained there ever since. To pass the time they cultivate a few vegetables
and keep watch over the Holy Cross Church with its ancient painted wooden crucifix
which miraculously survived both the bombing and the looting that destroyed a large
part of the cultural heritage of the region. The church bell echoed into the distance
as we walked towards this place of prayer and stepped inside for a shared moment
of worship. I could see the emotion on the weather beaten faces of the old men and
women, as well as in the eyes of the younger priests and lay people who were returning
for a rare visit to their ancestral lands. One by one they stepped forward to venerate
their precious icon before it was locked away again beside the altar until the next
visit from behind the Green line. After that we moved onto the village of Kormakitis
where over a hundred people still live and have renovated some of the houses plus
the church of St George, looked after lovingly by three elderly Franciscan sisters.
There the Maronite Archbishop Yousef Soueif celebrated Mass for our group and for
the local community in their ancient oriental rite. As we drove back towards the
border between these two worlds, I began to understand the archbishop’s words about
the need to create a new mentality amongst the young people of Cyprus. Stepping across
a line, whether physical or cultural and religious barriers, is never an easy thing
to do, away from the security of our own identity and traditions. Yet the future of
this country depends upon young and old alike, religious and political leaders finding
the courage to do just that:to reach out beyond the divisions to the shared, multi-cultural
heritage that has marked the island for centuries.