St. Maron's has that old-timey feel
"This church is the center of their lives," Father Vincent Farhat said of his parishioners.
IN THE MOUNTAINS and hills of Lebanon, Maronite Catholics used to worship in caves. That's why it's fitting that St. Maron's Church in South Philadelphia has an altar done in rough, sandy-colored stone.
The stone, from Lebanon, conveys that cavern feel, while the large worship space is also a reminder of how large this branch of the Eastern Catholic church has grown since it began in the 400s.
The Maronite rite takes its name from the monk St. Maron, who preached a simple life. Although he spent most of his life in the Syrian mountains, Maron is most often associated with Lebanon. (Even today, the country's president must be a Maronite, part of a 1943 pact that shaped Lebanese independence.)
The core beliefs of the Maronite rite are the same as the Roman Catholic rite, with some differences in rituals and practices. Today, there are about 80 Maronite parishes and missions in the U.S.
St. Maron's has a tightly knit congregation, but is welcoming, said Father Vincent Farhat, the church's pastor. "Hospitality is a priority in our church," he said. "It's small, so everyone knows everyone."
After church, many gather in the neighboring church hall for coffee and traditional Lebanese fare like manoushee, a bread, and lebanee, a yogurt that Farhat called "Lebanese cream cheese."
"This church is the center of their lives," Farhat said of his parishioners. "Everything revolves around the church, and it's been that way since it came into existence."
Who we are: About 200 families crowd into the church for weekly services. While many in the congregation - as well as Farhat and the weekend assistant, Father Michael Marrone - are of Lebanese descent, Italian and Mexican business owners from the nearby 9th Street Market also worship here, as do Irish and German families.
The church has recently seen an influx of visitors from Iraq, Syria and Palestine. Not all of these newcomers are Christian. Instead, they come for the fellowship.
Where we worship: 1013 Ellsworth St. One of the first Maronite Catholic churches in the New World, the original 19th-century structure was torn down and rebuilt in the 1970s. A major rehab in 2010 ripped out red shag carpet and oak paneling and added stained glass windows and a new floor.
When we worship: The Divine Liturgy is on Sunday at 11 a.m. The Mass is chanted, not spoken, and sections of some services are delivered in Arabic and Syriac, which is a dialect of Aramaic.
A bit of history: For years, this was "a church of miracles," Marrone said. The faithful would come with their physical aches and illnesses and pray to St. Jude to intervene on their behalf. Many people said they were healed after praying at the church, and for years its walls were covered with wheelchairs, walkers and crutches.
Those relics were buried under the church floor during the 1970s renovation.
Dress code: The congregation tends to dress with simple formality, Marrone said. "But I don't want anything to keep anyone from coming to church. Nothing should separate us."
What we believe: Maronite Catholic doctrines and dogma are the same as those of the Roman Catholic Church. Pope Francis is "the Vicar of Christ on earth, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit," Marrone said.
Differences pop up in small ways. During Communion rites, the Eucharist cannot be placed in the hands, for example. Children are baptized and confirmed as infants. And, in Lebanon at least, priests can be married.
What we're known for: Acceptance. Visitors don't have to be Maronite or Catholic or even religious to find a home here.
Big moral issue we're grappling with: "Everything revolves around the respect of life. It's not just an abortion issue or death penalty - it's about respecting your life and being the person God made you to be," Marrone said. "Respect people as they are and realize they are who they are through God's grace."
If pennies rained from heaven . . . The church would pay off its new community center and look into expanding its worship space.
God is . . . loving. "God is madly in love with us because we're his creation," Marrone said. He doesn't even get angry when people question him.
"You can deny him, but he won't deny you," Marrone said. "Every one of us, if you're pagan or agnostic or anything, we all are born to desire God in a different way. Everyone has a place in God's world."
God vs. cellphones: "Oh man," moaned Marrone. "I think it takes away from the sacredness."He tells parishioners to just shut their phones off. Vibrate is not an option. "God's calling now."
Words of hope: Even when things seem darkest and most difficult, God is with you, Marrone said.
He recalled hearing a Holocaust survivor who had lost his entire family speak about his experiences. During the question and answer period that followed, someone wondered how the survivor, now a rabbi, could continue to believe in God.
The rabbi said he knew God had been with him because he was still alive. "No one said life was going to be easy," Marrone said. "It's too great for that."