THE MUEZZIN OR THE BELL
As the close of this little record comes near, there appears before me a
contrast or a conflict. Shall Syria continue, as in the past, dominated
by the minaret and all it signifies, or shall the church bell be heard
more clearly and more truly than it has been in the past?
Many years ago, in the city of Homs, the large and influential Orthodox
Greek community wished to put up a bell in their church. This was found
to be wholly impossible because of the unyielding bigotry and hostility
of the Moslem community and the government. Finally the bishop consented
to hang up a slab of hard, thoroughly seasoned wood, and this was struck
with a mallet at the time of worship, to call the people together. After
quite a long interval, when the controversy was largely forgotten, this
wooden slab was quietly exchanged for one of steel, and a clearer sound
was obtained. This created a little disturbance, but was quickly
accepted as an accomplished fact, for it is a common saying in Turkey:
"Whatever is done is permitted. Whatever is requested is forbidden."
After another long interval a large bell was sent from Russia for this
Homs Church of the Forty Martyrs. In view of the relations of Turkey to
Russia, no open opposition could be shown, and the bell was brought with
great demonstrations of joy and put in its place where it rings to call
the people to worship. Following the lead of this strongest of the
Christian communities, all the others have brought bells since, and they
are in regular use. But the near city of Hamath waited some years longer
before hearing its first regular church bell.
Many years ago an old sheik in Tripoli was calling on me. He was
intelligent and friendly and I felt that I could speak with him
somewhat freely. When I said to him that the voice of the muezzin in the
neighboring mosque was not so clear as it might be, he told me the
following incident in his father's life: The French consul in Tripoli
lived near a mosque. The muezzin had a musical voice, and the consul
enjoyed hearing the call to prayer in the summer evenings. For some
reason this man was removed and another put in his place, whose voice
was harsh and unpleasant. A few days later the consul arrayed himself in
official style, and with the attendance of his cavasses in full regalia,
he went to call on the old sheik, the father of my informant. It was not
a feast day nor time for official calls, so his coming in this manner
created some astonishment and a little uneasiness. After the ordinary
salutations had been exchanged, the consul addressed the sheik in formal
manner, to this effect: "I have come to-day, officially to convey to
you my own personal thanks and that of the government I represent for
the great favor you have done me." The sheik was even more astonished at
this opening, and protested that nothing worthy of such recognition had
been done. "Yes," said the consul, "you may not have been aware of the
great kindness done, but it is no less worthy of note. In the mosque
near my house there was a muezzin who gave the daily call to prayer in a
voice that went to the heart of the hearer, and it would not have been
strange if he had won my allegiance to Islam. Now, however, he has been
removed and a man with a harsh, repellant voice put in his place, so
there is no longer any danger that the representative of a Christian
nation should deny his faith and follow Islam. For this reason, I convey
to you officially and personally my most profound thanks." No sooner had
the caller taken his leave than orders were sent to have the
sweet-voiced muezzin restored to his former position in the vicinity of
the consulate. The keen consul had gained what he wanted and what a
direct request might not have accomplished. No offense was given and all
were pleased.
After he had told me this story, I said, "Sheik Ali, there are two
things which I grudge to you Mohammedans; one is the custom of summoning
people to divine worship by the call of the human voice rather than by a
metallic bell; and the other is the exclusive use among yourselves of
the salutation, 'Peace be to you.'" When one Moslem meets another, he
salutes him, "Peace be to you," and the other responds, "And on you be
the peace of God." A Moslem will never intentionally give this
salutation to a Christian. I continued, "That salutation belongs to the
Christians more than to you, for it was the farewell message from our
Master to his disciples, when he said, 'Peace I leave with you; my peace
I give unto you.'"
Which is it to be in Syria? Shall the separation continue, and one large
part of the population heed the call to prayer by the human voice from
the minaret, while another part worship the same God in the churches in
answer to the summons of a bell? This unfortunate state of affairs will
never cease until the heart of the Christian Church is so full of the
love of Christ and his perfect peace that the Moslem population shall
hear through them a louder cry than the voice of the muezzin, calling
them to worship the one living God, and to know him through the perfect
life of his only Son, our Lord. "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest."