As if to signify that this trip is, in a way, reverse to my previous ones, this time the pilot had us land approaching from the south of the city, depriving us of the usual spectacle of the overpopulated coast, the harbor and the Beirut skyline, but revealing charming villages and hills.

This time, it’s not about scheduled, arranged meetings, conferences, agendas or agreements to consolidate or reach. It’s about settling in, listening, learning the flexibility of time, and searching, step by step, for what we hope to find. It is not about results to be achieved, projects to be evaluated or decisions to be made, but about using local resources and methods, and discovering, over time, the character and daily lives of partners who expect nothing from you and are not there for your sake, but who are willing to help you help yourselves.

The Near East School of Theology (NEST) is situated in a quiet, mixed-community neighborhood of the city, very close to the sea, the universities and the major hospitals. I stay there every time I am here, and over the years I have witnessed the deterioration of the economic and social situation. Since my last visit before the summer, the most noticeable change has been the virtual disappearance of internally displaced people from the south of the country. The official accommodation centers, as well as those run by churches and NGOs, have closed. But you still come across a few of them, often already reduced to begging. Otherwise, small shops that open and close in a flash, stylish-looking café-bakeries, beauty salons and little bistros dotted here and there, some with shisha bars, some without. A stone’s throw from the NEST, several small hotels, the (guarded) ICRC headquarters, the American University, open-air car parks, half completed but fully occupied buildings stand side by side to luxury blocks and countless street food stalls and shops of all kinds. The churches of the French-speaking and German-speaking communities are a (good) stone’s throw away.

The new academic year begins tomorrow, Monday 7th, and the students have arrived. This year, there are three Palestinians, one Jordanian, one Egyptian, two Armenians, one Nigerian and two Lebanese. In addition, there are a few part-time students, who have another job to pay their study. A new lecturer in ethics has also arrived – an American Mennonite who recently left Montbéliard (France) with his family after serving in Chad, where American citizens are no longer welcome.

There are Lutherans, Presbyterians, Reformed, Anglicans and members of free churches… My initial exchanges with the students – for whom I am something of a ‘senior Calvinist’ – are gradually deepening over shared meals. These exchanges will become more varied through the social, spiritual, liturgical and (perhaps) sporting life that forms an integral part of life at NEST. During the introductory session, the students’ motivations were fairly typical, but over time I had forgotten how refreshing they were: ‘to find more answers and fewer questions; why Jesus rather than anyone else? God opens doors…’ They all seem very interested in the course on Islam, which they admit they know little about. They have had virtually no real contact with this religion or with Muslims up to now, as the education systems are community-based – and therefore separate and segregated – just like private law. One student who has already taken the course admits that he completely changed his mind (for the better) after attending it. Coexistence requires a good understanding of the majority’s culture and respect for it. But when a reference is made to the ‘events’ of the last twenty-four hours, their eyes dart away and turn towards their plates… ‘Is your family in Bethlehem all right? Have you heard from them?’ – ‘Yes, they’re fine. No problems?’ – ‘No, they’re fine…’ ”

The course catalogue fits on a single page, and full-time students are encouraged not to take more than four courses (each lasting 2½ hours). As for me, I’ve finally chosen two courses: one on the theological and political interpretations of Romans 9–11, and the other on the theology and doctrine of the Holy Spirit. But I’ll certainly be popping into the course on Islam as well. Initial research in the libraries is also on the agenda.

What does the future hold for them after NEST? Apart from pastoral ministry, there is no real alternative. This does not suit everyone, particularly women, who would like to pursue professional activities and gain recognition in other areas of the Church as well. The small size of the congregations and the very conservative missionary heritage create further obstacles to this sort of development.

Community life is all the more important as a result, as is liturgical life. This Sunday, there are two opportunities to experience this: the Anglican parish in Beirut is holding two services, one in Arabic and the other in English. In both cases, there were around twenty people: the Arabic-speaking congregation was predominantly elderly, whilst the other was more diverse and vibrant, with a band providing a rhythmic accompaniment to the hymns. And in the evening, at the main Protestant church in the city centre, there was an ecumenical service to mark the beginning of the Season of Creation, organised by the Middle East Council of Churches (MECC). It was the second time that this feast is celebrated ecumenically. An almost full church, many youth and an overall of middle-aged concerned people. A syriac-orthodox priest preached upon a text of Ezechiel and the importance of water. A very nice and innovative moment, livestreamed in all the Middle East through an evangelical TV company