Psalm 88, 1-5:
"O, Lord God, who saves me, day and night I cry out before you.
May my prayer come before you; turn your ear to my cry.
For my life is sated with suffering; my life draws near the grave.
I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am a man of no strength.
I am set apart with the dead, like the slain in the grave."
Tonight we pray this prayer with the suffering Syrian people. Recently my friend in Aleppo, archbishop Gregorios Yohana Ibrahim stated: "Day and night the Syrian people are suffering." He added: "And we see no light in the tunnel."
Here, in the house of God, we pray with the Psalm: "Day and night we cry out to you, O Lord!" and we add: That they may see the light of life and peace.
There are few historical links between Norway and Syria. But today we are grateful to have Syrian Christians in our country and this evening also in our Cathedral. In recent years we have also established bonds with churches and people in Syria.
Many of us have come to love Damascus, the city of Paul, and Aleppo, the green city of Abraham. We have appreciated the hospitality of Christian sisters and brothers, in Sednaya and in Homs, and enjoyed friendship with Muslim leaders and families. We have walked through the "silent cities" in the north, reflecting upon the past and the future of this land and its people.
For two years we have followed the news, alarmed by the violence, the pain of people in turmoil and the death and suffering of so many children.
We mourn the loss of innocent lives and livelihood for homeless and refugees. We are concerned for friends and churches in this biblical land as well as for the future of the multifaceted Syrian society. How can violent conflict become peace, life grow from ruins and light shine into this darkness?
Tonight we are gathered across confessional and national boundaries. From our Cathedral we appeal to the regime and all groups in opposition to lay down their weapons and stop the meaningless violence. We appeal to the United Nations, the international community and our own government to increase their efforts with humanitarian aid and as instruments o a new future for the people of Syria.
But here in the House of God we do more. Here we pray together to God who is peace, the help of the helpless and our abiding hope. We cry out to Him who hears our cries, sees our sorrows and knows all suffering. We pray to the God of Abraham, the Father of Jesus Christ and the hope of Paul. Prayer to Him is also a commitment.
Abraham was called "friend of God" and became ancestor of Jews, Christians and Muslims. When he stayed in Aleppo in a time of great need, it is told that he fed the inhabitants from the abundant milk of his flocks. In times of need and conflict our prayer to the God of Abraham is a commitment to walk the difficult path of friendship with God and one another.
The Bible also describes Abraham as a man of hope, a hope revealed to Paul on his way to Damascus. He saw a shining light and encountered the risen Jesus Christ.
Paul clung to this hope when he was in turmoil in his own life or oppressed by Roman authorities or his surroundings. He said: "I am convinced that neither death nor life …nor any powers … or anything else in creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Jesus Christ our Lord."
Difficult as this may be, it is with this hope that we bring our pain and lamentations before God in prayer. We commit ourselves, the people of Syria and all involved in relief ministries and peace-making to the God of hope and mercy. We pray that he may let his light shine in the darkness and give the people of Syria a new day.
In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.