Catholicism takes message to airwaves
Warren Singh-Bartlett reports on the rise of Tele-Lumiere through generous benefactors and faithful volunteers
No sex. No violence. No bad language. And definitely, no politics. The kind of broadcast policy that might make sense for Nickelodeon or Zen should surely be the kiss of death for any other television station. After all, isn’t spice the variety of life?
If so, someone obviously forgot to tell Tele-Lumiere. Now in its 10th year, the Middle East’s first dedicated Catholic television station appears to have struck gold. The secret? Global marketers take note: it’s all about niche marketing.
Betting that a segment of the population was alienated by the same old mixture of guns and girdles, Tele-Lumiere, like its closest counterpart, Hizbullah’s Manar TV, has managed not only to survive, but to thrive as well.
What began as a one-room operation on the top floor of the CIT Building in 1991, with a grand total of one camera, one video unit, and a small antenna on the roof, has blossomed into a multi-storey 24-hour-a-day affair (which, according to one staff member, proves Jesus never goes to sleep) with its own choir.
Thanks to a mega-antenna on top of Mount Sannine, Tele-Lumiere, which originally only broadcast from Dora to Achrafieh, now reaches homes from Syria to Jordan and Palestine, and has viewers as far south as Alexandria all this without a satellite link, although that too is on the cards and two floors at the station are currently being prepared for that transition, which should happen later this year.
Divine providence
Known in-house as the “Continuous Miracle,” Tele-Lumiere has come this far (to paraphrase Tennessee Williams) by “depending on the kindness of strangers.”
With minimal commercial receipts the station sells video cassettes at $20 each as well as religious paraphernalia such as rosaries, books and pictures of the saints, and has a travel department which organizes pilgrimages to Medugorje in Bosnia Herzegovina Tele-Lumiere depends entirely on donations to keep itself on air.
Donations come from individuals both in Lebanon and abroad and take various forms. Some donate money; some donate services or equipment, while others donate their time. In 1997, a scheme called the Friends of Tele-Lumiere was set up to enable people to make financial contributions on a regular basis.
While there are plenty of large donations, donations of LL5,000 or even L10,000 are not uncommon, a sign that, according to Marie-Therese Kreidy, head of Tele-Lumiere’s PR department, is an indication of the goodwill the station enjoys and the desire of its viewers to do all they can to keep it on air.
“I honestly don’t know where the money comes from,” she adds, “but somehow, it always comes when we most need it.”
Pennies from heaven?
Roland Kawkabani, a producer who has been with the station since the very start, thinks so.
“I remember when we needed to get new equipment we wanted to replace the video decks to
go digital and someone just called up and offered us $40,000 worth of the equipment we needed,” he says. “No other company is run this way, it really is God’s Providence.”
Devotion, not decoration
Everything about the station smacks of humility, from its somewhat grimy, bullet-splattered facade to the unassuming, slightly down-at-heel reception area, as often host to barefoot monks as it is to more secular visitors.
Decorated with statues of the saints, the reception walls are hung with religious quotations carved in wood, icons, and a large relief map of Lebanon. A large illuminated bible is kept open on the coffee table while in the corridor behind the reception hangs the picture of a child-angel, the first image the station ever transmitted.
What Tele-Lumiere lacks in outward show, it more than makes up for in the devotion it inspires in its workforce a devotion that several employees say only gets stronger in times of difficulty.
“It’s a vocation,” says Kawkabani who, like many other staff members, routinely works a 12-hour day.
“Most of us do many different jobs, people who ‘graduate’ from here are qualified to do almost every job at other television stations.”
With a staff of just over 100, the station also counts on a sizable number of volunteers. Fresh-faced and ready for battle, they do everything from delivering mail to helping put together the programs. Anything, in fact, that needs to be done.
“They are a testimony to the renewal of the country,” explains Kreidy, who herself worked as a volunteer before becoming staff three years ago. “They know they are carrying out a mission … that we are trying to help build a better society.”
Man on a mission
Not many television station directors come to work bare-foot. But then not many television station directors wear robes of sackcloth and exist on a diet of bread and water either. Enter Brother Nour, the spiritual and emotional center of the station.
Born in 1947 as Jihad Bssalis, Brother Nour renounced the world and its temptations in 1975 and became a hermit. Eager to spread the word of God, his first foray into broadcasting was with the Voice of Charity, a Catholic radio station he helped set up in 1984. But even then, Brother Nour had his eyes on the small screen.
Press-shy and unassuming, he prefers not to publicize his role in the birth and subsequent growth of Tele-Lumiere, but there is little doubt that without him, the station would not exist today, nor would it continue. Kreidy describes him as the station’s lifeline, crediting him with bringing in most of the donations the station needs.
“He’s here 24 hours a day,” she says with obvious admiration. “He only leaves to search for funds or equipment. He never stops working.”
Brother Nour also supervises what is perhaps the most extraordinary aspect of this unusual station. Around 4pm every Friday afternoon, the station opens its doors to a flood of supplicants, who crowd into the reception area, each with their own problem or request.
It’s an incredibly diverse crowd. Men, women, children, Muslims, Christians, Lebanese, Fillpinos, Ethiopians, and Syrians, the young and healthy, the old and infirm, all come to Brother Nour with their petitions. He works his way patiently through the crowd, lending an ear, a shoulder to cry on, and whenever possible
a helping hand, dealing with literally hundreds of different requests every week.
Those he can’t help immediately, he tells to come back. Those he can’t help personally, he sends to people able to help out. Most requests are pitiful, others bizarre, but everyone is heard and no one is turned away.
A family affair
Every day at 12.30pm, work comes to a halt and the staff gather in the reception area chapel, to pray together before a communal lunch in the canteen. The sense of togetherness and family is further reinforced by weekend spiritual retreats and group-training sessions as well as participation in what Kreidy calls “the Mission.”
“After work we visit prisoners, take gifts to the orphanages, or go on hospital visits,” explains Kawkabani. “It’s work with a conscience. We are like missionaries. We feel like we have to serve the community.”
The sentiment is in line with the pope’s goal of encouraging believers to participate in spreading the Vatican’s message. Tele-Lumiere sees itself as the voice of the Catholic church, and since 1996 has been supervised by the Assembly of Catholic Patriarchs and Bishops of Lebanon.
But everyone at the station is eager to emphasize that this message is not exclusive or sectarian.
Kreidy explains that Tele-Lumiere’s stated goals include eliminating fanaticism and discrimination, enhancing openness, providing a platform for free exchange, and establishing peace and dignity.
“We don’t seek to promote the Catholic or Maronite church. We strongly believe in the coexistence of all religions,” she adds. “We have many shows on different religions, different leaders our programing reflects our belief in respecting other religions.”
Just under half of the station’s programing is religious; the rest is split between children’s shows, educational programs and entertainment slots such as Sabah an-Nour (Good Morning.)
Close to 90 percent of the station’s output is locally-produced and ranges from documentaries on the lives of the saints, religious travelogues and broadcasts of the morning and Sunday masses, to talk shows such as Khidamat as-Shaab (In the Service of the People,) a program that introduces voters to the deputies they might have elected and Al Bab al Moufteha (The Key to the Door,) which brings religious leaders of different denominations together to discuss social issues. More sensitive subjects, such as the death penalty or the status of the disabled in Lebanon are tackled in the popular evening show, Qadaya (Cases.)
The remainder is imported from Europe or Egypt Tele-Lumiere offers programs especially designed to cater to the Coptic community. Some are bought outright but many are donated or exchanged. Tele-Lumiere has an agreement with WorldNet, Germany’s CRTN, and a French Christian network and is also entitled to screen broadcasts from the Vatican’s television station free of charge.
Blockbuster movies also have their place, once they have been deemed suitable and cut to remove any offensive material and these do pull in more viewers.
But attracting higher audience shares or capturing peak-hour ratings have never been central motivating factors at Tele-Lumiere. Who cares about a few percentage points when there are hearts, minds and yes, even souls, to be won?
“We have no ads and no commercial objectives,” says Kreidy. “We have a cause to fight for and seek only to spread a message of love, peace, and gathering. It is the work of God here at Tele-Lumiere.”
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