The Syrian Christ Part 13

To the Oriental life is neither an evolution nor an achievement, but an inheritance. To his pa.s.sive yet poetical mind the ancient landmarks possess enchanting sentimental value. The thought of the same modes of life linking fifty centuries together appeals powerfully to his imagination. It spells security, and establishes {243} confidence in the laws of being, at least to old age.

However, it should not be inferred from the foregoing that the Syrian thinks lightly of his humble home. No; he is a pa.s.sionate lover of it, and a.s.sociates with it the deepest joys and sorrows of life. But he does not have for his abode the two designations "house" and "home,"

which prevail in the West. The Hebrew word _bayith_ and the Arabic _bait_ mean primarily a "shelter." The English equivalent is the word "house." The richer term, "home," has never been invented by the son of Palestine because he has always considered himself "a sojourner in the earth." His tent and his little house, therefore, were sufficient for a shelter for him and his dear ones during the earthly pilgrimage.

The word which is translated "home" in about forty places in the English version of the Bible does not differ in the original from the word "house," which is found in about three thousand five hundred pa.s.sages in the Bible. The terms "tent," "house," "place of residence," {244} and the phrases, "to go to his kindred," "to return to his place," etc., are all translated "home," and "go home."

To the Oriental the word "house" is very precious. It means the place of safe retreat (malja). And it is this word which he uses in speaking of G.o.d as his protector. It means more than "shelter." It is a place of protection and comfort. The word "refuge" is a more suitable equivalent. In that contentious East we always thought of a safe refuge in time of trouble. Every family of the common people "belonged" to some powerful lord who was its refuge in time of danger.

He was strong, rich, compa.s.sionate. He protected his own. How much stronger, richer, and more compa.s.sionate, therefore, is the Lord of Hosts! The needy and much terrified Oriental discovered long ago the frailty of all earthly shelters. The King of Kings and the Lord of Hosts was his never-failing refuge. The trustful contemplation of G.o.d as an ever-present helper has steadied the faltering steps of countless generations. "The {245} Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my G.o.d, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn[2] of my salvation, and my high tower."[3] "G.o.d is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea."[4]

Is it not really worth while to fear and to suffer, if by so doing one is brought so close to G.o.d? The writer of the one hundred and nineteenth Psalm had the world in his debt when he turned his inward vision toward the Most High and prayed:[5] "It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes. The law of thy mouth is better unto me than thousands of gold and silver." And who can estimate the debt which humanity owes to the Sufferer of Calvary?

[1] Ps. lxi: 3.

[2] The "horn" symbolizes strength.

[3] Ps. xviii: 2, 3.

[4] Ps. xlvi: 1, 2.

[5] Ps. cxix: 71, 72.

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CHAPTER II

RESIGNED TRAVELERS

Traveling by the "Twentieth Century, Limited," is fast transit; but, excepting in case of a wreck, the trip is devoid of incident. The mechanical perfection of the conveyance, and the infallibility of the time-table reduce journeying to transportation. There is no girding of the loins, no pilgrim's staff, no salutations by the way and no wayfarer's song. The journey is not humanized by the tender care for the camel, the mule, and the a.s.s, nor are the hunger and thirst satisfied by the breaking of bread beside the lonely springs of water.

The terrors and triumphs of St. Paul in his "journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, ... in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, ... in cold and nakedness,"[1] are all to the {247} modern Western traveler echoes of a remote past.

But such are still the common experiences of the sons of the East. One of the heroic wedding songs which was much in vogue in my boyhood days was this (addressed to the bride): "Thy father, O beauteous one, journeyed to Damascus alone!" Previous to the introduction of the railway train, which now runs between Beyrout and Damascus, the journey from my home town to the latter city consumed two days. In those days, as is still the case in many parts of Syria, men traveled in large groups for mutual protection from the "hidden dangers of the way," and he who journeyed to the ancient city alone was proclaimed hero. My memories of the tales of adventure which I heard the men relate are very thrilling. Tales of encounters with robbers, battles with snakes and wild beasts, suffering from the insufficiency of "the food for the way" (_zad_) and the thirst occasioned by the early "failure," that is, the {248} drying up, of springs of water which had been thought to be still flowing.

Only those who have traveled under such circ.u.mstances can fully appreciate the promise given in the fifty-eighth chapter of Isaiah, the eleventh verse, "And the Lord shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat[2] thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, _whose waters fail not_."

This recalls forcibly to my mind the occasions when in our travels in the late summer we would stand at the parting of two roads and wonder which one to take. The opinion of the more experienced men in the party, that the spring of water on one of those roads was likely to be dry in that season of the year, always turned our steps in the other direction. In that thirsty land such a possibility could not be safely ignored. In those long summer days, when the mouth of the traveler on the dusty roads of Syria "turns bitter from the thirst," the arrival {249} at a spring which had "failed" is almost a tragic experience.

Hence it is that the "springs of water" are one of the precious promises of the Bible, and their failure was one of the fearful threats.

It was indeed a call to his disciples to make the great renunciation when Jesus sent them out to preach the glad tidings of the kingdom which was "at hand," with the command, "Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor bra.s.s in your purses, nor scrip for your journey, neither two coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves."[3] So far as the comforts and protection that earthly things can give, those disciples were sent out perfectly helpless. The Master's programme for those disciples is just the ant.i.thesis of that which an ordinary Oriental traveler follows.

No traveler in the interior of Syria ever starts out on a journey, be it short or long, without _zad_. True, Syrian generosity to a wayfarer is to be depended upon, but the traditions of the country are that self-respect requires that a {250} traveler shall provide himself with _zad_, and shall accept hospitality only as a last resort. The best etiquette requires that when a traveler is invited to another's table, he should take out his _zad_ and place it before him. The host, on the other hand, positively refuses to allow his chance guest to eat of his own _zad_. The host removes the _zad_ from the table, and either adds to it and gives it to the guest upon his departure or gives him a new _zad_. Without scrip, the traveler seems to himself to be utterly a dependent, a beggar, and not a guest.

"Put up a few loaves for _zad_," is the first thing said when a person is about to start out on a journey. The thin loaves are folded into small bundles, which may contain such delicacies as ripe black olives, cheese, boiled eggs, and figs conserved in grape mola.s.ses, and wrapped up in a large napkin, which the traveler ties around his waist, with the bread on the back. The bread is often carried in a leather bag (_jerab_). This is the "scrip" and "wallet" of the Gospel command. On a long {251} journey, say of a day or more, the thin bread dries up and breaks into small pieces. A dry and crumby _zad_ indicates a long journey. The Gibeonites certainly "did work wilily" when they used their dry and broken bread as a means to deceive Joshua. Although they were Israel's near neighbors, by carrying dry crumbs in their bags and saying to Joshua upon their arrival at his camp, "This our bread we took hot for our provision out of our houses on the day we came forth to go unto you; but now, behold, it is dry, and it is mouldy,"[4] made him and "the princes of the congregation" believe that the wily travelers had come from a distant country. The English translation, however, by using the word "mouldy" introduces a foreign element into the text. In the dry climate of Palestine the bread does not get _mouldy_ on a journey, but it dries up and crumbles into small fragments, as every Syrian knows. The Arabic version has it, "This our bread ... is now dry and in crumbs [_fetat_]."

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"Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor bra.s.s in your purses." The original text has "girdles" instead of "purses." While traveling in the East we always carried our money in the girdle and only a few coins in the purse. The girdle of the present day is a stout woolen or cotton belt, which is called, in the vernacular Arabic, _k.u.mmer_. It is worn under the sash, and the longest specimen of it measures about five feet. It is double to the length of about thirty inches. The two folds are very securely sewed together at the edge, and only a small opening provided near the buckle, through which the money is inserted.

The double part, containing the money, is first fastened around the waist by means of a short leather buckle, then the single part is wound over it. It may be seen here that in case of an encounter with robbers, the money cannot be s.n.a.t.c.hed from its owner until he is completely subdued by his antagonist.

The common people of Syria speak of the _k.u.mmer_ as of a man's financial strength. There are practically no "bank accounts." "How is {253} the _k.u.mmer_?" means, "How do you stand financially?" To tap the _k.u.mmer_ cheerfully indicates good circ.u.mstances. It is joy and glory for a youth when he reaches the age when he may have a _k.u.mmer_. The thrill of satisfaction which that possession gives still lingers with me. It was as much of a sign of maturity and independence for me to tap that Scriptural girdle which I wore, when I had money in it, as to swear by my newly sprouting mustache. It was my treasure!

From all this it may be noted that the Master's command, "Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor bra.s.s in your girdles," meant, not only to carry no money on their missionary journey, but to seek and _horde_ no money. An Oriental's girdle is his bank.

The part of the command which says, "Neither two coats," means two changes of clothing. The thing sought here, however, as well as in the saying, "Neither shoes," is not the abandonment of the necessary wearing apparel, but willing self-denial.

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"Nor yet staves." The staff, or the "stick of travel," is the symbol of journeying in Syria. There, _Elkeina el'asa_ (rested the staff) means we reached the end of our journey. _El'asa_ (staff) occupies a significant place in Syrian lore. It is difficult for me to imagine a Syrian starting on a journey without an _asa_. The Israelites were given explicit directions concerning their preparations for the journey on the eve of their exodus from Egypt. They were told[5] to eat the lamb of the pa.s.sover "with your loins girded, your shoes on your feet, _and your staff in your hand_."

In our travels in Syria the staff was to us a most valuable support in climbing the steep hills, crossing the streams of water, battling with snakes and ferocious dogs, and with highway robbers. "The staff is a companion" is a current saying in the land. The disciples were commanded in this manner to detach themselves from the material interests of this world, and to give themselves wholly to the preaching {255} of the kingdom. In their need and in their weakness they were to be rich and strong through their vision of the eternal realities.

In the tenth chapter of St. Luke's Gospel, Jesus' commission to the disciples contains the command, "And salute no man by the way." It would seem strange, indeed, that those messengers of peace and good-will, who were being sent out to spread the leaven of friendliness and good cheer in the world, should be enjoined by their Master to salute no man by the way. But when it is known in what manner the Orientals salute one another on those weary journeys, the Gospel restriction will not seem so very strange. Wayfarers in the East do not content themselves with the severely brief Western salutation, "How d' you do; nice day," and then pa.s.s on. The Oriental salutation is a copious flow of soul, whose intimacy and inquisitiveness are quite strange to the mentality of the West.

When the ways of two travelers converge, or the one overtakes the other, and they decide to _yatrafeko_ (be companion the one to the other) {256} and "wear away the road in friendly speech," the salutation runs as follows:--

"_Allah y'atek el'afieh_ [May G.o.d give you health and strength]."

"_Allah y'afie imrak_ [May G.o.d refresh and strengthen your life]."

"Whence has your excellent presence [_heth-retek_] come, and whither are you facing?"

"From Nazareth have I come, and am facing towards Damascus."

"What is the precious name?"

"Your humble servant Mas'ud, son of Yusuf of the clan of Ayyub [Job]."

"_Wann'am, wann'am_ [All honor, all honor]!"

"_Wann'am_ to your excellent presence, and your respected clan!"

"What are your years?"

"My years, friend, are four and thirty."

"May your life be long and happy!"

"May Allah lengthen your days!"

"What children have you?" (It is taken for granted that a man of that age has been long since married.)

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"Three sons in the keeping of G.o.d."