Grieving and often overlooked, Palestinian Christians prepare for a somber Christmas amid war

It’s a pure delight for the Rev. Khader Khalilia: the excitement, giggles, and kisses when his little kids open their Christmas pyjamas. But this year, simply thinking about it makes Khalilia feel guilty.

“I’m struggling,” said the Palestinian American pastor of New York’s Redeemer-St. John’s Lutheran Church. “How can I do it while the Palestinian children are suffering and have no shelter or a place to lay their heads?”

Suzan Sahori has been working with artists thousands of miles away, in Jesus’ biblical birthplace of Bethlehem, to bring olive wood Christmas ornaments into homes in Australia, Europe, and North America. But Sahori isn’t in the mood: “We’re broken, looking at all these children, all this killing.”

Many Palestinian Christians — in Bethlehem and elsewhere — are struck with helplessness, anguish, and worry during this typical season of joy. Some are grieving, pleading for the war to end, rushing relatives to safety, or taking solace in the Christmas message of hope.

Grieving and often overlooked, Palestinian Christians prepare for a somber Christmas amid war

Sahori, executive director of Bethlehem Fair Trade Artisans, a craft organization, will pray for peace and justice in the occupied West Bank. She’s thankful she’s safe but wonders if it might change. She is also enraged.

“The joy in my heart is stolen,” she lamented. “‘God, how are you letting all these children to die?’… I’m angry with God, and I pray He forgives me.”

In happier times, she finds the Bethlehem area’s Christmas spirit unrivalled: it’s in the melodies streaming onto streets adorned with lights, markets showcasing decorations, and the enthusiasm of children, families, and tourists shooting photos with towering Christmas trees.

Everything is calmer and more solemn now. The tree-lighting festivities she attended last year were cancelled.

Grieving and often overlooked, Palestinian Christians prepare for a somber Christmas amid war

Church leaders in Jerusalem have asked their congregations to avoid “extraneous festive activities.” They urged priests and the faithful to focus on the spiritual aspect of Christmas and urged “fervent prayers for a just and lasting peace in our beloved Holy Land.”

Thousands of Palestinians have been killed in Israel’s ongoing offensive in Gaza, which was begun in response to Hamas’ massacres and hostage-taking in Israel on October 7.

According to the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem, Israeli sniper fire killed two Christian women who were in a church compound in Gaza. The Israeli military stated that troops were targeting Hamas militants in the vicinity and that it was examining the incident, which it takes extremely seriously.

Khalilia is doing her best to console the distressed man.

“It’s difficult to watch. “It’s difficult to do your job,” he admitted. “People are looking for us to walk with them in their suffering.”

He is concerned about his family in the West Bank; a brother lost his job working for a hotel as travel cancellations hit tourism hard.

Khalili, from a hamlet near Bethlehem, said his girls would likely receive fewer gifts this year, with the money saved to support children in Gaza.

Many people in the United States, he claims, are unaware that Palestinian Christians exist — some even inquire if he converted from Islam or Judaism.

He says, “When you sing ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’ on Christmas Eve, remember that Jesus was born in my hometown.”

According to the US State Department’s international religious freedom report for 2022, 50,000 Christian Palestinians are anticipated to live in the West Bank and Jerusalem. According to the report, approximately 1,300 Christians lived in Gaza. Some Christians are also Israeli citizens. A large number of Palestinian Christians live in diaspora communities.

Grieving and often overlooked, Palestinian Christians prepare for a somber Christmas amid war

According to Susan Muaddi Darraj, a novelist in Baltimore, Christians represent a diversity of Palestinians that is often overlooked. “Our existence … defies the stereotypes that are being used to dehumanize us.”

According to her, family reunions have become vital for comfort this Christmas.

“Especially in the diaspora … where, for us, life feels like it’s stopped but everyone else around us is going about their daily business.”

According to Wadie Abunassar, a Palestinian Israeli living in Haifa, many in his Christian community are attempting to balance the gloomy environment with the Christmas message.

“Jesus came in the midst of darkness,” said Abunassar, a former Catholic Church spokesperson. “Christmas is about giving hope when there is no hope.” “Nowadays, more than ever, we need this Christmas spirit.”

It has been a challenging road.

“Being Israeli citizens, we feel the pain of our Jewish compatriots,” he went on to say. “Being Palestinians, we feel the pain of our Palestinian brothers and sisters.”

Rev. Munther Isaac, pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Christmas Church in Bethlehem, said tears flowed during Sunday services. Many people are worried, and some have packed their belongings and departed.

Isaac was among those who came to Washington to lobby for a cease-fire.

“A comprehensive and just peace is the only hope for Palestinians and Israelis alike,” wrote many Christian pastoral leaders in Bethlehem in a letter. It was addressed to President Joe Biden and requested him to help end the war.

The signatories expressed their sorrow for all fatalities, Palestinian and Israeli.

“We seek a permanent and comprehensive cease-fire.” Enough with the death. Enough devastation… This is our Christmas plea and prayer.”

Israel, whose forces have been accused of employing disproportionate force by some, says it wants to destroy Hamas and accuses it of endangering civilians. The scale of the killings, devastation, and displacement in Gaza is also causing international concern for Israel and its US partner.

Isaac’s church has a nativity scene with a baby Jesus figurine draped in a back-and-white Palestinian keffiyeh in the ruins. He described the exhibition as an emotional and spiritual event.

“We see Jesus in every child that’s killed, and we see God’s identifying with us in our suffering.”

Suhair Anastas, a long-time Gaza resident, is filled with remorse this holiday season: She has escaped the Gaza war while others have not.

Anastas, a Jordanian Palestinian, had been residing in Gaza, her late husband’s hometown.

She and her 16-year-old daughter sought refuge in a Catholic church’s school for more than a month. A fatal Israeli airstrike on a Gaza Greek Orthodox Church property housing displaced people felt especially near. The Israeli military claimed it had struck a Hamas command headquarters in the area.

“You go to sleep … thinking, ‘Will I wake up the next morning?'” Anastas explained.

Her journey to the border, which included driving, walking, riding in a donkey cart, and hailing a cab, was harrowing.

“There were bombings around,” she explained. A friend’s toddler kept asking, “Are we going to die?”

Anastas wants to return to Gaza, but she is unsure what awaits her or whether her home will remain there.

Among the many unknowns about the future of Gaza and its more than 2 million residents is whether or not its small Christian population will remain — and for how long.

Sami Awad’s relatives are among those who remain inside. Awad, a Palestinian American, claimed he was unable to obtain US assistance for his family members who do not have US passports to leave.

They’ve moved several times, with their most recent shelter being a windowless cement structure shared with others, according to Awad, who is currently on the West Bank. In infrequent exchanges, a relative informed him that they were running out of the canned tuna and beans on which they had survived.

“If we die, don’t grieve too much for us, because it would have been mercy for us,” he once told Awad. “Save us,” the cousin yelled at times. “Get us out of here.”

“I feel completely helpless,” Awad remarked, anticipating bad news at any moment.

Awad claimed hope arrived in Australian visas for his relatives, including an elderly aunt and uncle, but their names aren’t on the lists required to leave.

On the morning of Christmas Day, he remarked, “We’ll wake up, like every other day, to watch the news and to see what are the numbers of people that were killed.”

Awad had only considered putting up a Christmas tree once his youngest daughter insisted.

So suddenly, there’s a tree. A red, black, white, and green Palestinian flag is displayed among gold and red decorations.

SOURCE – (AP)