“She is like the light on the summit of the mountains.”

That's what Pope John Paul II said of St. Rafqa Pietra Choboq ar-Rayes when he canonized her on June 10, 2001, giving Lebanon its first female saint.

In life, St. Rafqa — her name means “Rebecca” — was a nun who asked for suffering in order to be closer to Christ. Today her tomb, located in her monastery, is one of the most popular pilgrimage sites in this predominantly Muslim nation of 3.6 million.

St. Rafqa was born in Himlaya, Lebanon, in 1832. Her mother died when she was 7. Despite the wishes of her father and stepmother, Rafqa decided against marriage. In 1862, she realized her lifelong dream when she entered religious life.

It was in 1885 that God responded to Rafqa's request for suffering. When unbearable pain began in her head and moved to her eyes, Rafqa's mother superior insisted she be treated by a specialist. But when the physician attempted surgery, disaster ensued. He accidentally removed her eye.

Twelve years later, Sister Rafqa and five other nuns from the Lebanese Maronite Order were moved to then-new St. Joseph's Monastery in Jrabta, Batroun. Not long after, she went completely blind. She also began to experience pain throughout her body as most of her bones came unjointed and a deep sore covered her back. By 1911, she was paralyzed, able to use only her hands.

“She drew from her union with Christ, who died on the cross, the power to accept voluntarily and to love suffering, the authentic path to sanctity,” said the Holy Father at the canonization.

St. Rafqa died on Ash Monday, 1914. (The Maronites begin Lent two days before Roman Catholics.)

Sanctified Stairway

Approaching St. Joseph's Monastery today, it's not hard to imagine the way it must have looked in St. Rafqa's time. For little, it seems, has changed.

The day I last visited, a few sisters were strolling by the roadside, dressed in the same long black habit worn by St. Rafqa. It's likely they were meditating on the Stations of the Cross, represented by some log-fashioned crosses that dot the edge of the road. The deep silence of the place was broken only by the tinkling of a bell in the distance, coming from a herd of goats making their way down the facing mountain. A few steps from the parking lot, votive candles surrounded the statue of the saint.

Upon entering the small chapel that contains St. Rafqa's tomb, which is connected to the monastery, pilgrims often kneel on the rough stone ground to pray. Fifty or so broad, winding, rustic stone steps lead up to the monastery. A stone structure, decorated in traditional Lebanese style, enshrines a sculpture depicting the saint's unfortunate eye surgery.

A colorful combination of wild-flowers carpets the grounds; I noted white and yellow daisies, poppies and buttercups. Light pink blossoms of almond trees were already in bloom, as were roses. Oak and cypress trees dot the landscape. Benches offer an inviting place to stop for prayer.

Halfway up the steps, you come to the simple tomb, embedded in stones, where St. Rafqa was first buried. Three days after her death, a light miraculously shone from it. Soon after, the first miracle through St. Rafqa's intercession occurred. The convent's mother superior, suffering from an abscess, placed some soil from Rafqa's burial ground on the affected area — and was healed.

St. Rafqa's tomb, explained Sister Martha Basile, is in the shape of an oil lamp, because “St. Rafqa is a light for people who are very sick. She suffered with Christ, and she can help people who suffer.” Visitors kneel before the glass and pray to the saint.

Sister Martha pointed out that St. Rafqa's room was where the first few pews of the chapel are now located. From there, she would drag herself to the church. There are currently 29 sisters in the convent. Until about 25 years ago, they were cloistered. During Lebanon's civil war (1975-90), many refugees came to the convent seeking help. The sisters responded by opening the convent doors, Sister Martha explained.

Base of a Basilica

St. Joseph's Church, beyond the chapel and visitors center, was built in 1933 in the simple stacked-stone design typical of Maronite architecture. The base of the altar is a lovely representation of the four Gospels. A picture of Our Lady of Elije, one of the oldest icons of Lebanon and a figure usually included in pictures of St. Rafqa, is attached to the lectern. On the right side of the altar, encased in glass and covered with pewter flowers, are relics of Lebanon's saints — St. Rafqa, St. Charbel and Blessed Hardini, who will be canonized May 16.

One of my favorite places is the tiny, old church of St. John the Apostle. Built prior to the monastery, it has only five pews and a few small stools. The marble altar has four angels holding pillars (which are candles) representing the four corners of the world. Framed pictures of the Holy Family, St. Char-bel, Pope John Paul II and other holy images adorn the altar and ledges of the church.

This is typical of many tiny Lebanese village churches, in which visitors donate their favorite religious pictures and statues.

Construction of a basilica, expected to be completed in about two years, has begun on the edge of the property, alongside the valley.

Sister Martha explained, “You feel the presence of St. Rafqa here every day. She is the one to witness to the people who come to visit.”

This simple saint who offered her physical agonies to God is responsible for much hope and many healings. The Holy Father must have had her heavenly effectiveness in mind when, at her canonization, he implored her to “watch over all those who know suffering.”

Doreen AbiRaad writes from Bikfaya, Lebanon, where St. Rafqa received her calling to become a nun at what is now Our Lady of Deliverance Church.

The writer hosts a children's program in English on Lebanon's Voice of Charity radio. It can be heard on Fridays at 9 a.m. EST at www. radiocharity.org.lb on the Internet.