DARDGHAYA, Lebanon — A Christmas tree stands amidst the ruins of St. George Melkite Catholic Church in southern Lebanon, which has been devastated following an Israeli airstrike in October. This 18th-century church used to be a lively gathering point for the community, but it now reflects the destruction wrought by conflict.
Georges Elia, a 40-year-old municipal employee and member of the congregation, has taken it upon himself to foster some sense of normalcy as the holiday season draws near, particularly in the wake of a tenuous ceasefire between Israel and Hezbollah. “Christmas this year carries sadness for us, but we didn’t want the residents of this town and our church to feel that sadness,” Elia shared. “We aimed to set up a tree, even if it’s modest and simple.”
The tree is small, barely taller than Elia himself. He crouched to carefully adorn it with a shiny garland and a star at its peak. Crystal chandeliers, miraculously still hanging overhead, cast light on the debris of shattered pews below. Scattered on the ground are cheerful images of Santa Claus, remnants of better times.
Due to the war’s destruction of power lines, the Christmas tree lacks lights, and a traditional Nativity scene has been omitted, as it may not withstand the uneven terrain. “But, of course, Christ is born in our hearts, illuminated by our love for Him,” Elia expressed.
The church was hit during a period when Israel was intensifying bombardments in southern Lebanon, transitioning from a low-intensity conflict to a full-scale war. Hezbollah has stated their actions were in support of the Palestinians in Gaza, while Israel argues its goal is to secure a safe border area, allowing citizens to return home.
On September 23, Elia, his family, and many other community members evacuated their homes, joining the hundreds of thousands displaced throughout Lebanon. The church was a service point for approximately 30 families and had previously endured two Israeli attacks over the years.
Father Maurice el Khoury, the priest of St. George, recounted the church’s history of destruction, including the loss of its western wall during the 1978 invasion and airstrike damage to its residential areas in 1992. Upon his return weeks later, Elia was taken aback by the extent of the devastation. “The pictures didn’t convey the severity of the damage,” he remarked.
Priest el Khoury, who has been serving at the church for 11 years, vividly recalled his initial response to the wreckage. “I felt my blood pressure rise. I lost my balance and had to lean against the wall. I simply couldn’t grasp what I was seeing,” he said.
The financial implications of the destruction are enormous, with el Khoury estimating that repairs could cost nearly $3 million. The damaging effects of this war extend across Lebanon, with the World Bank reporting that around 100,000 homes have been partially or completely ruined during the 14-month conflict, resulting in total damages of approximately $3.2 billion.
With the main structure now in ruins, el Khoury has adapted by holding Sunday Mass in a small underground room once reserved for visiting clergy. Using the light from a mobile phone, he conducts services in this makeshift venue, which, despite sustaining damage, was restored to serve as a temporary place of worship.
During one of the Masses, he reminded the congregants of the holiday’s true significance, stating, “This room is more like the cave where Jesus was born. We embody the spirit of Christ’s birth in our lives.” Despite the challenges they face, the community’s faith remains steadfast. For this forthcoming Christmas, el Khoury assured them, “We will hold Mass here.”
