Accessibility links Skip to main content Keyboard shortcuts for audio player Open Navigation Menu --> Newsletters NPR Shop Get NPR+ Close Navigation Menu Home News Expand/collapse submenu for News National World Politics Business Health Science Climate Race Culture Expand/collapse submenu for Culture Books Movies Television Pop Culture Food Art & Design Performing Arts Life Kit Gaming Music Expand/collapse submenu for Music Tiny Desk New Music Friday All Songs Considered Music Features Live Sessions Podcasts & Shows Expand/collapse submenu for Podcasts & Shows Daily Morning Edition Weekend Edition Saturday Weekend Edition Sunday All Things Considered Up First Here & Now NPR Politics Podcast Featured Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me! Fresh Air Wild Card with Rachel Martin It's Been a Minute Embedded Get NPR+ More Podcasts & Shows Search Newsletters NPR Shop Get NPR+ Tiny Desk New Music Friday All Songs Considered Music Features Live Sessions About NPR Diversity Support Careers Press Ethics Photo: Mulberry at Syria church, which draws on Sufi, Eastern Orthodox Syria's Mar Musa monastery provides the tastiest mulberries, and its services draw from Eastern Orthodox Christian and Sufi customs. Special Series Far-Flung Postcards Greetings from a Syrian church, infused with a mix of sweet fruit and diverse faiths July 8, 202611:05 AM ET Emily Feng
Emily Feng/NPR I had wanted to visit the monastery of Deir Mar Musa, about 60 miles north of Damascus, for a while. Its incredible restoration under a charismatic Italian priest, his tragic disappearance and presumed death during the Syrian civil war, and the inspiring interfaith work of the monastery's remaining monks and nuns all fascinated me.
While hiking in a rocky valley behind the sixth-century hilltop monastery this summer, I came across a singular mulberry tree, its branches laden with ripe fruit. I hesitated. It seemed impossible that such a tree could exist in such dry environs, but curiosity overtook me. I greedily picked them off, at first one by one and then quickly by the fistful, leaving dark, bloody drops of juice on the tree branches and my fingers. The mulberries were the best fruit I had ever tasted.
Reader, I am not a believer. But some part of me feared I had tasted forbidden fruit and I nervously awaited a stomachache or some other divine punishment, which never came.
Later that evening, I attended candlelit prayers in the monastery led by Deir Mar Musa's current religious leader, Father Jihad Youssef, and drawing from biblical scripture as well as Eastern Orthodox Christian and Sufi customs.
By then, I had managed to wash most of the mulberry stains off my hands. I marveled at the beauty of the ceremony, of the church, of the fruit, and I gave silent thanks to whoever was listening.
For more Far-Flung Postcards, click here.