Mosul: In a moment rich with both history and hope, Patriarch Louis Raphaël I Sako, head of the Chaldean Catholic Church, presided over the reconsecration of the Al-Tahira Church in Mosul’s Old City, a sacred site once desecrated and devastated by ISIS militants. Speaking to Vatican News following the ceremony, the Patriarch offered a powerful message of resilience: “Despite everything that we’ve lived through, we still think that we have a vocation in this country, where Muslims are the majority, to bear witness to our faith.”
The Al-Tahira Church, a centuries-old landmark, had suffered extensive damage during the Islamic State’s occupation of Mosul in 2014 and the subsequent military campaign to liberate the city. Once reduced to rubble and desecrated, the church now stands restored not just as a structure of stone, but as a symbol of spiritual renewal for Iraq’s dwindling Christian community.
“Iraqi Christians have suffered a lot, and are tired,” Patriarch Sako admitted, gazing at the newly restored sanctuary. Yet he emphasized that despite persecution and exile, the faithful “never lose faith and hope. Everything is based on hope.”
The Chaldean Patriarch’s words carry deep resonance for a community that has shrunk from over 1.5 million believers before the 2003 Iraq War to around 200,000 today. Decades of instability, violence, and emigration have left once-thriving Christian towns half-empty. But in Mosul, once a stronghold of fear, the reconsecration of Al-Tahira marks a turning point a declaration that faith has outlived terror.
Built in the mid-18th century under the patronage of the then Pasha of Mosul who granted permission to thank Christians for defending the city from a Persian attack in 1743 the Al-Tahira Church carries a rich legacy. It was erected atop the ruins of the 5th-century Monastery of St. Gabriel, renowned in medieval times as a center of theological learning.
It was here, Patriarch Sako explained, that the Chaldean liturgy was first composed a rite deeply rooted in the early Christian traditions of Mesopotamia. “It’s a liturgy of the Spirit,” he said. “The invocation of the Spirit is what changes everything.”
Unlike the more elaborate forms of Western liturgy, the Chaldean prayers are brief, scriptural, and intimate “short and understandable,” drawn directly from the Bible. The Patriarch also reflected on the symbolism of the bare Chaldean crosses adorning the church, which lack the crucified image of Jesus. “This gives us hope that Jesus is risen,” he said. “Even if we’re persecuted, even if we’re killed, we have this hope.”
The church was formally inaugurated a day earlier, on October 15, during a civic ceremony attended by local journalists, the Mayor of Mosul, and the Governor of Nineveh Province. The following day’s Mass of Reconsecration, led by Patriarch Sako, was a more intimate occasion reserved for the faithful.
The service was celebrated in a blend of Arabic, Chaldean Neo-Aramaic, and French the latter included for representatives of L’Oeuvre d’Orient, the French Catholic charity that funded and oversaw the reconstruction. The Mass marked not only the return of Christian liturgy to the heart of Mosul but also the rebirth of a community that had once been uprooted.
Eight years after the fall of ISIS, Mosul’s Christian population remains sparse. Most families that fled have settled in surrounding villages such as Qaraqosh and Karamlesh. Among those who attended the ceremony was Noah, a 29-year-old from Karamlesh, who expressed cautious optimism. “This reopening gives me hope that Christians might have a future in Iraq,” he said. “Things are better now than before, but we never know how the political situation will change. God willing, we will be able to stay.”
Patriarch Sako’s words and the reconsecration of Al-Tahira serve as both a pastoral affirmation and a national statement. Despite persecution, displacement, and political uncertainty, Iraq’s Christians continue to view their presence as a divine calling a vocation to remain, rebuild, and bear witness amid adversity.
In the heart of Mosul, once ravaged by extremism, the sound of ancient Chaldean hymns has once again filled the air. For many, it is not merely the reopening of a church but the resurrection of a people who refuse to let the light of faith fade from the cradle of Christianity.