Our Lady of Soufanieh's apparition and messages to Myrna Nazzour

Summary:

It was early winter in Damascus. The air was brisk and dry and the avenues came back to life for a few hours a day, when the sun broke through the low, heavy sky. And yet, since the end of November, one district had been bustling with unusual activity: Soufanieh, the historic Christian district was attracting many curious, and was even closely watched by the authorities. Not only were crowds forming, people coming and going, officials passing by in long black cars, but also Jordanian, Lebanese and Iraqi vehicles, and religious from all over the Middle East were seen coming to this district.

The door to the home of the Akhras and Nazzour family was constantly open, indicated by a small candle jar and a picture in a recess in the stone wall. Everyone knew them for being simple, unremarkable people. But now strange things were happening at the house of Myrna and Nicolas, a recently married couple. Rumour had it that the young woman's hands were oozing oil, just like a small icon they owned! Christians and Muslims alike would come to the couple's house to pray on their knees, day and night, before the miraculous image of the Virgin, who was honouring them with her visit in these difficult times.

A fratricidal war was raging in Lebanon, the situation was unstable in Syria, and threats were hanging over the Near and Middle East. The people were worried. But this modest house represented a haven of peace and friendship, and the gatherings sometimes spilled over to the street.

It was 15 December, and the Christmas lights were up in preparation for Christmas. A Eucharistic celebration was held in the evening in the small, crowded patio, as it had been every day since 27 November, and then the people left, but some close friends stayed behind: a few young people from the Damascus Choir of Joy, and Fathers Zahlaoui and Maalouli, who were giving spiritual guidance to Myrna and monitoring the events.

It was around 11:30pm and they were there to continue the prayers; Myrna was standing in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall. Suddenly she felt a hand gently pushing her from the back three times to get to the terrace on the first floor. She finally gave in and found herself sitting on the floor in front of the balustrade overlooking the street, facing the city park.

It was pitch black and she was inexplicably shaking: was it from fear or cold? She looked up and saw a light shining on a branch of the eucalyptus tree by the river, on the other side of the street. The light was so dazzling that Myrna thought it was daylight. A very beautiful lady, sitting on the branch, had just appeared. She stood up and walked towards the terrace of the house, leaving a trail of blue light behind her. She crossed the iron balustrade and stopped on the terrace. Myrna was frightened, screamed, got up and ran down the stairs towards the patio to join her husband Nicolas, Father Zahlaoui, and friends at prayer.

The visitors rushed to meet her; the priest demanded silence. Myrna shouted, beside herself: "Father, Father, I saw a light, and through that light a lady I believe to be the Virgin, but I couldn't stand the sight of her, I was so scared!" "-Listen, Myrna," said Father Zahlaoui calmly, "if it really is the Virgin, she is a mother and a mother doesn't scare people. She must have seen that you were frightened, but if she has something to tell us, she'll come back."

Myrna calmed down; of course, she didn't understand everything, but for three weeks, her life had been so different from before, and in a way, what else could she do? She waited for something she couldn't control and agreed to prepare herself to the next apparition by praying.

Three days later, on 18 December, at around the same time, the same friends and acquaintances were gathered to pray together in the same place; Myrna was sitting down and felt an insistent pressure on her shoulder. She gave in immediately, without waiting, but those present were watching her and immediately followed her up the stairs. Myrna was completely reassured: they were going to see the Blessed Virgin too!

She came from afar, like a dazzling ball of light, which, before crossing the balustrade of the terrace, materialised into a young woman, who was "so beautiful" according to an ecstatic Myrna. It was indeed the Virgin, suspended in front of her, slightly above a kneeling Myrna, now ready to listen to her.

There was some jostling among the people present, but in absolute silence, Myrna suddenly spoke, her eyes fixed on a point that no one could see. Her dazzled gaze contemplated the invisible with fervour. At length she muttered sentences that she seemed to repeat without understanding, under dictation, and which ended with: "Pray... pray... pray!" After delivering her message in Arabic, the Virgin walked backwards towards the eucalyptus tree, and when she reached the branch, she suddenly disappeared. With her, the globe of light disappeared completely.

It was all over; Myrna came out of her first ecstasy. "Did you see her?" she asked the others hopefully. "What did she look like?" they replied. "But did you hear her?" " - What was she like?" they insisted. "She is dressed in white, with a blue belt, covered with a sort of hood forming part of the dress and wearing on her right shoulder, a blue shawl. She holds in Her right hand between the index and the annular a rosary of crystal color. The right arm is folded at the height of the chest, the left arm down by Her side. Her feet are invisible." They saw nothing, they heard nothing, but Myrna's voice had just been recorded, because they had had a tape recorder since the first evening, in case, as Father Zahlaoui had said, "the Blessed Virgin would have something to say to us". The recording is clear; the message spoken in the first person - not from Myrna, who can't remember saying it from her own lips - but she and her friends read it over and over again, and it would take them months to fully understand it:

"My children, remember God, for God is with us. You know everything and you know nothing. Your knowledge is imperfect knowledge. But the day will come when you will know everything as God knows me. Do good to those who do evil and do no harm to anyone. I have given you more oil than you asked for. And I'm going to give you something much stronger than oil. Repent and believe and remember me in your joy. Proclaim my Son, Emmanuel! He who proclaims him is saved; he who does not, his faith is in vain. Love one another. I'm not asking for money to give to the churches, or money to give to the poor (Atloubou El Mahaba), I'm asking for love. Those who give their money to the Churches and to the poor, without having love, are nothing! I'll be visiting more homes. I'm not asking for a church to be built, but a place of pilgrimage. Because those who go to church don't always go there to pray. Give, don't deprive anyone who asks for help, pray... pray... pray!"

There was astonishment and joy, of course, but also puzzlement, and everyone had their own questions and interpretations. What the priests understood was that this message was linked to the events of November 1982, which they still couldn't explain. There was no disconnection, but a forthcoming explanation, so they wisely prepared Myrna for the Virgin's possible next apparitions.

Myrna's first question, when she reread the message without understanding its meaning, was: "But who is Emmanuel?"Then, like a charade, and as if the Virgin had read their hearts, they realised that she had answered the questions they were all asking: oil, yes, but until when and for what? A church, perhaps? A shrine? A place of charity for the poor? Who could answer, who was qualified to do so?

Mary had said that she would "visit homes",  butt how? Months later, they would understand when hundreds of thousands of images of the little icon were distributed free of charge on every continent and calls would come from Europe, Asia and America, asking why the little image was oozing oil. Mary visited them too, in her own way, discreet, delicate, but full of mercy.

Since then, Myrna has kept saying: "I didn't choose my path, it was the Lord who mapped it out for me".

Beyond reasons to believe:

Of this apparition of 18 December 1982, the priest said: "These private revelations are like signs of the times, signs from the Spirit and the Church of Christ to explain the faith. The Revelation that runs through the Old and New Testaments came to an end with the death of the last apostle, Saint John. Revelation is therefore ended and nothing can be added to it. The manifestations that happened to you, Myrna, are not authoritative, but it is undeniable that they are a help from heaven to enlighten the people, amidst a darkened world where confusion reigns."

In fact, Saint Paul said to the Thessalonians: "Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise prophetic utterances. Test everything; retain what is good."  (1 Thess. 5: 19-21)

Going further:

The Apparitions in Damascus - Our Lady of Sourfanieh, Source of Holy Oil by Christian Ravaz, Messengers of Our Lady of Soufanieh (January 1, 1997)

More information:

Memoir Our Lady of Soufanieh Syrian Arab Republic (Messages From Jesus & Mary) and Other Phenomena by Antoine Mansour; Claire Mansour, 101 Foundation (January 1, 2003)