The Christian Cross and Maronite History

Fr Y. (John) Sader, OAM

Our Lord himself visited Lebanon, in particular, the area near Tyre and Sidon (Mt 15:21, Mk 7:31). The Christian teaching spread along the coast of Lebanon from the very first years of its inception. It is well documented that the faith found an early stronghold in cities such as Tyre and Jbeil (Byblos). But what of the mountains? It took some four hundred years before the Maronites and other Christians made Mount Lebanon (Jabal Libnan) a bastion of Christianity. The very few surviving texts for the period of transition are discussed in my book Crosses and Symbols in Ancient Christian Art of Lebanon. The study of sacred art is its own reward, but it can also tell us a great deal about the people who crafted these artifacts and employed them in their living faith.

This chapter shall concentrate on the cross, a symbol which operates at several levels simultaneously, as indicating (1) the cross on which Our Lord died, (2) His resurrection, (3) the Christian faith as a whole, (4) the suffering required of us (that we take up our crosses and follow him), and, as we shall see, and (5) the holy recluse or anchorite (from the Greek, meaning “the one who goes away alone”).[1] Today we think of the cross as an obvious symbol for Christians: but in fact it was very little used by Christians before the fourth century – the century in which St Maroun was born. Even an otherwise sound book such as Early Christian and Byzantine Art by John Lowden (1997) has very little to say about the cross as an art form, and even then its examples are later than the art form we shall be examining.

But why was the cross so little used as a symbol in the ancient world? The cross was to many an embarrassment, for criminals were put to death on it. It was a symbol of suffering. We do not really feel this any more because we know it only through Christianity: but the people of the ancient world lived with it as an instrument of death. But because Our Lord died and the cross and thus wrought our salvation, and because great saints were raised who embraced suffering as a penance, the cross came to be known in Mar Maroun’s world as the “the cosmic square”, or in a ravishingly beautiful metaphor, as “the rose of the winds” (the four winds comb the creation, thus the entire secret of the cosmos is fulfilled in the cross.)[2]

As I set out in Crosses and Symbols, Frs Jalabert, Mouterde and Mondesert concluded that these particular crosses we shall examine, where the arms of the crosses end in forks or strokes, were especially associated with one of the great phenomena of the 5th to 7th centuries across Lebanon, Syria and other areas: the anchorite or the holy man who seeks God to the exclusion of all else. These remarkable saints are now known to have lived as stylites (on columns), as recluses (hermits) and as coenobites (a community of solitaries living in proximity to each other). They were once far more widespread in Lebanon than they are now: indeed, some places too their names from these ascetics, thus Zakreet, in the Metn, is called after a zagrito (Aramaic for “recluse”).[3]

Consider the abstract designs of trees. While the tree of life is a world-wide symbol, in Syriathe tree was sometimes depicted with a cross rising from it and the stylite above the cross, with only his bust visible. In Lebanon, however, the stylite was symbolically shown by a lozenge or other shape rising from the tree or cross. On other occasions, many scholars suspect, the tree or the cross alone sometimes represented the reward of the ascetic, or even the ascetic himself. This constellation of symbols is expressed by the prophets when Hosea declares that God says he is like an evergreen cypress, and Psalm 92 compares the just man to a palm tree. Artistic symbols are rarely one-dimensional.

At Beit Mery, the palm tree is shown near water. The text of ps-Barnabas speaks of the tree planted near water giving its fruit: this is an important clue because the Christian and, in particular, the stylite is the fruit of the column and the cross. This text reads:

… He says: “He who does these things will be like a tree planted near the water springs who gives his fruit in due season.” Note how he describes both the water and the cross at one and the same time … He also says: “There was a river flowing to the right from which rose graceful trees: whoever eats of them will live forever. That is to say, we go down into the water covered in our sins and filthiness, but we come up laden with fruit.[4]

These symbols become particularly numerous during the Byzantine age of the holy hermits, and although they do not die out for quite a long time, their popularity passes with the great age these ascetics: further reason for seeing them as symbols of the anchorite.

The bifurcated crosses almost appear to be human figures, with the semi-circular endings on the horizontal bar approximating to hands, and those on the vertical bar to head and feet respectively. They are very often associated with churches at or near which there were known to be hermits and stylites. This is part of the reason why I suggest that these crosses, such as the well-preserved example from the church of St Adanayus 45 kilometres north of Beirut, symbolize an anchorite, a solitary hermit.[5] It seems to me, based on analogies with the Syrian art, that some of the other unusual designs, such as the quadrilateral figures and abstract cypress trees (found, for example, at the Hermitage of St Peter and St Paul) likewise represent the recluse, whether hermit or otherwise.

Then there are other examples, such as the trifurcated cross with a semi-circular hood around the top halves of each cross at St George the Blue at Yanouh. These “haloed crosses”, as one may term them, seem to be simultaneously the Holy Cross and also a person. When one finds an engraving where two symbols are clearly placed together to illuminate one another, one can discern the vision behind the sacred art. Such illuminations make it perhaps easier to then interpret the more enigmatic symbols.

There is a legend that St Simeon the Stylite, who died in 495 AD, stimulated large scale conversion of the Phoenicians of Mount Lebanon, especially (we believe) the districts of Byblos, Bsharri and Zgharta, when he advised the people to fight off an invasion of demonic inspiration to convert, repent, keep vigils, and place three crosses at the entrances to their villages. While we cannot be certain of the precise dates, there are ancient examples of three crosses side by side from the most ancient sites in Lebanon, e.g., at Eddé al-Batroun, Smar Jbeil and Ehden. While these crosses may well be later than the age of Simeon, it is nonetheless significant that the people used the cross in exactly the style ascribed to the saint’s command. Given the conservatism of the people, these crosses render it quite probable indeed that the legend of Simeon’s conversion of Mount Lebanon has a substantial factual basis. Indeed, any visitor to the region of Byblos and the towns mentioned will find clear and extensive evidence of the honour given to the saint.

So the Holy Cross has been known in Lebanon for almost two thousand years, and the feats of the Exaltation of the Cross (14 September) is a major feast in the MaroniteChurch. Indeed, whereas the Latin Church numbers almost the last six months of the liturgical year as Sundays after Pentecost, the Maronite church has an additional season: the Sundays after the Exaltation of the Cross. It is only fitting, then, to examine in more detail, the most ancient Maronite crosses.

The oldest Maronite churches are to be found in the areas of Byblos, Batroun, Zgharta, Becharri, around the Keserwan, the Metn and in South Lebanon. The church of Mar Mame in Ehden has been continuously used as a church for about 1,200 years.

In the course of examining the ancient churches of Lebanon, I noticed that the oldest crosses took a peculiar form: the arms of the crosses often end in two or three forks, or sometimes in transverse strokes. It was also striking that the crosses were sketched on blocks of stone which had clearly come from pagan temples. It is well known that the ancient temples had often been often converted into churches, often after having been exorcised as consecrated – a practice which Mar Maroun himself appears to have carried out. My book includes a brief study of the church of St George at Eddé-Jbeil, wherein I note that in 1860 the famous Ernst Renan observed a winged globe (or perhaps sun disk) on the lintel over a doorway of the church. This was a purely pagan symbol and shows that the stone in question was used in a sacred structure for at least 1600 years, and possibly for many hundreds of years more. Renan removed the lintel and sent it to the Louvre for exhibition.

These churches, with their ancient inclusions, made up the bulk of my study. They were usually quite small, with one, and rarely, two naves (the central part of the church, or the church considered without its wings and flanks). The walls, the facades, and sometimes the lintels (horizontal stones placed over doors or windows) and uprights (stones standing vertically alongside the doors and windows), and the vaults of the apses, are marked with crosses with these forked endings at the arms. The apse is the heightened recess at the end of the church opposite the entrance, and is often arched or domed. Ancient Maronite churches invariably have a rounded, concave apse.

Those crosses which are on dressed stones (stones prepared and the surfaces made even, so to enhance their values in displays) are generally well-carved straight crosses, and their ends have equal forks. In the case of the Monastery of Mar Lisha, the ancient bifurcated cross is placed on a magnificent dark blue block which originally graced the interior of the temple. The sound craftsmanship of these crosses is to be contrasted with the twisted arms and poorly shaped forks of those found on undressed stone. Possibly the greatest examples from the 5th and 6th centuries are those surviving from the pavements of the now-ruined basilica of Beit Mery – these are simply masterpieces of the mosaic art.

Together with this variety in the quality of the work, there is a notable variety in the appearance of the crosses. Some of the diverse forms include:

crosses with a double outline enclosed within a hexagon, square or circle;
the Maltese cross, especially on lintels and on the capitals (heads) of columns;
complex crosses superimposed on a triangle or quadrilateral;
trifurcated crosses; and
six- or eight- armed crosses, with star-like shapes.

In the village of Lehfed, 850 metres above seal level, the ancient church of Mar Stephen shows evidence of some of the most extraordinary instances of Maronite cruciform (cross-shaped) art, such as the double bifurcated cross within a hexagon (fig.38, p.74) and the diverse crosses with bases, bifurcation and triangles which I found being on a worn capital being used as a feeding trough (fig.50-2, p.81). What can these unique figures mean? Is the triangle a symbol of the Holy Trinity, or perhaps the Holy Spirit? Could the hexagon represent the six days of creation, or be a doubling of the triangles? These well-carved engravings can hardly be accidental.[6]

Similarly at Lehfed, the church of the Monastery of Our Lady features a star and sun engraved on a tympanum above a doorway, but the rays of the sun seem to swirl in flowing arcs, almost like strands of hair in the wind (fig.57, p.88). The association of Lehfed with recluses is quite well-established, and indeed two of the churches of Lehfed are named after St Simon the Stylite, one even being known as “the pillar of St Simon”, thus preserving the memory of both the famous Syrian stylite and his Lebanese successors. The star is also a Patristic symbol of the Messiah who shines in and disperses the darkness. Stars, rising and setting, are also believed to be symbols of resurrection. As we have seen, part of the power of symbols is that they can bear multiple meanings simultaneously. The five pointed star with a cross inside it from Annaya is surely thus a symbol of Our Lord Himself, the teacher who overcame death.

An example of the trifurcated crosses is to be found at p.96 of my book, from the Hermitage of St Peter and St Paul in Annaya, where resided St Charbel Maklouf (1828-98). Another is found at p.46, on a pilaster (a rectangular piece protruding from a wall) at the Monastery of St Theodore, which is to be dated to the 6th or 7th centuries. In the same chapter, I reproduce from St Theodore’s a cross within a quadrilateral superimposed over an X-shaped cross to make a star, and set within a circle. The design is simplicity itself, but its elegant lines invite deeper contemplation.

With these extraordinarily diverse figures are associated other symbols: chalices, stylized palm trees, stars and squares. While the chalice is obviously a symbol of the Eucharist, the stylized trees, such as that of the church of Our Lady of Qassuba near Jbeil, almost certainly represent stylites at their pillar.[7] These symbols are often found on the lintels and the tympanums of doors. The tympanum is the space, often triangular, found over the lintel of a door, but beneath the archway. So the placing of these figures is very prominent. There are some wonderful examples of this in the Monastery of the Fortress (Deir al-Qal-a) of Beit Mery. Some of this art is to be found on yellow stones which can be dated to the 6th century. Although the ancient church was probably dedicated to a Stylite – not the famous St Simon, but another known as St John – the present church itself dates from the 18th century. Similar works of ancient art have also been found in North Syria, but they have not been accorded the importance they deserve.

The preacher Cosmas, a direct disciple of St Simon (Simeon) Stylites who died in 459, edited a text in about 474, now known as Vat. Syr. 160 in the Vatican Library, and of great importance for us. The text says that the Phoenicians of the Lebanese mountains one day came to St Simon, begging his help against wild beasts which were devouring them in their mountain homes. The saint agreed to help, provided that convert to Christianity. After their conversions, he sent them back to their homes, to spend three days in vigil and prayer, and to engrave crosses on stones, and set them at the entrances to each of their villages. Three days after performing the saint’s bidding, the scourge of beasts ceased. The other Phoenicians were so impressed that they, too, converted. In my book, I give the reasons for dating this extraordinary event to 450-459.

As noted, there is a remarkable consistency between some of the crosses to be seen even today near Eddé al-Batroun, Smar Jbeil and Ehden, the crosses of Syria associated with the Stylite, and the advice Cosmas records he gave to place three crosses side by side. This narrative of Cosmas will explain that consistency. So, if the story has a historical basis as seems likely, were these cross-engraving people Maronites? The answer is both yes and no. Theodor Noldeke, the great German scholar, was of the view that their descendants could well have been Maronites. Matti Moosa is quite dismissive, saying that the speculation lacks evidence. But Moosa reverses the question: it is not did the Maronites all descend from these villagers: we know that they did not. The question is, has the faith of these people continued in the Maronites? And the answer to that is equally clearly yes.

There is no evidence that any Christians left Lebanon when the Maronites later entered. All of the evidence is for continuity between the Christians of Mount Lebanon in those early centuries. In those days, the Maronites were not organized as an independent church with an independent identity. They were simply Chalcedonian Christians in search of security and peace to practice their faith. (See the glossary for “Chalcedonians”.) The artistic continuity, and the ongoing respect if reverence for Stylites suggests that the villagers who sent to St Simon were indeed ancestors of many of the Christians of Mount Lebanon and their modern day descendants.

The unwarranted rejection of this account, without considering the archaeological evidence or the wider context of continuity in Mount Lebanon raises an important issue of methodology. In researching Maronite history, it is necessary to bring impartial and exhaustive research to bear. Moosa peremptorily dismisses the account as “apocryphal”, meaning not genuine. But he does not say which parts are apocryphal: he surely does not deny that there were villagers in Mount Lebanon. The archaeology proves that. Or that people approached St Simon for aid. That is known. There is no basis at all to declare it untrue that Phoenician villagers may have made their way to St Simon. So which portion is apocryphal: that the Stylite gave them advice, that they took the advice, or that it worked?