So, here it is said to have happened, the Christmas miracle that has brought two thousand years of Christianity with all its beautiful and terrible sides to it: Bethlehem. God only knows how to interpret the name – beit lekhem, Hebrew for “House of Bread,” or at least bait lahm, “House of the Flesh” in Arabic? And probably only experienced Christians could point with their finger on the map to that small point south of Jerusalem, where the Savior is said to be born between straw and cattle and with the backing of three wise men.
This article is the last in a series that our author is writing in Israel. Click here for the first report, here for the second and here for the third.
Bethlehem is located in the West Bank and therefore belongs to Israel from an Israeli perspective, but: Since the Israeli government handed control of the region to the Palestinian Authority in 1995, the small town has de facto been located in a different country. If you leave Jerusalem on Christmas Eve to the south, to get there on foot or by car (pioneering stars optional, depending on the weather), you will pass an eight-meter-high concrete wall. The fact that the militarily guarded checkpoints are even festively decorated and illuminated at the end of December cannot hide the fact that one of the holiest places in Christianity is in a region of crisis and conflict.
This becomes particularly clear on December 24th, the day that begins in Bethlehem with a traditional bagpipe procession through the old town: Hundreds of police officers screen the city, set up barriers, and cast suspicious looks at incoming buses and cars. Nevertheless, they seem comparatively mild. If no one would enter, like last year due to the corona pandemic, it would probably not be good for anyone here. Christmas Eve in Bethlehem is a good money-making opportunity for locals.
Contested sanctuary
The visitors flocking to Bethlehem at Christmas want to see one thing above all else: the newly restored and impressively shining Church of the Nativity. the Church of the Nativity was built around the birth grotto, the actual, presumed birthplace of Jesus. There is a Latin inscription under the altar Hic of the Virgin Mary Jesus Christ was born“Here Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin Mary”. A small hole in the ground marks the mystical place.
The grotto has a history that is not only biblically turbulent. Believers are said to have venerated the place as early as the 2nd century. In the 4th century, Emperor Constantine was probably the first to have a church built here. Then happened what happens to pretty much every place in the region: earthquakes and conquests. The buildings around the nativity grotto were destroyed several times, and under the rule of the Ottomans the site fell into disrepair. In 1948 Jordan captured the city in the Arab-Israeli war. Many Muslims fled to Bethlehem from the surrounding areas, which were again conquered by Israel. As a result, the once multi-religious pilgrimage site turned into a predominantly Islamic one.
In the 1967 Six Day War, Israel again conquered the city and withdrew its troops in the course of the Oslo peace process in 1995. But even then, sanctuaries like the Church of the Nativity were not spared. 2002, Second Intifada: Palestinian fighters holed up in the walls in the hope of being able to escape the shots of the Israelis – in vain.
In addition to the territorial disputes, there are religious ones. To this day there are arguments from time to time in the Church of the Nativity. Fortunately, the recent conflicts have been rather harmless: In December 2011, during the Christmas cleaning of the church, an argument broke out between Greek Orthodox and Armenian priests. About one hundred of them, dressed in religious attire, attacked each other with brooms, photos of the BBC show the scene. The walls also survived this weird spectacle. the Church of the Nativity is now considered the oldest continuously used church in Israel and is one of the few remaining early Christian church buildings in the world.
A little gathering
Bethlehem has grown from a village to a small Palestinian town over the past two thousand years. Today about 23,000 people live here, in five years it will be 25,000 according to the Palestinian statistics agency. But Bethlehem can hardly expand spatially: Israel’s surrounding settlement projects are putting the housing market under pressure.
Less than half of those who live here are Arab Christians, the rest, at least from a religious and cultural point of view, have little to do with Christmas Eve. This year there will be an unexpected visit: A few Christian believers of different denominations from Gaza are supposed to take part in the celebrations. The Israeli government issued 500 temporary exit permits. Usually the residents of Gaza are not allowed to leave the military exclusion zone
View of downtown Bethlehem on Christmas Eve 2021
Even Israelis cannot actually go to Bethlehem, as they can to many areas administered by the Palestinian Authority. However, some cars with Israeli registration numbers indicate that several permits have been issued for Christmas Eve. Gathering, at least a little.
Some locals watch the incoming tour groups from Jerusalem, Tel Aviv and from elsewhere in the country rather amused, while others try tirelessly to convince the guests of local food, drinks and other goods. At noon, visitors to the Church of the Nativity had the rare opportunity to meditate in the holy place almost all by themselves. Towards evening, not only does the church fill up, but also the crib square in front of it (Manger Square). Coffee, tea and warm corn with sugar or spices are sold in paper cups at many small stalls.
For some, it’s their annual business. The locals are nowhere near as affluent as visitors from the USA, Germany or the Philippines. A seller complains to me that little is still being bought. He was only able to do two deals today. The young man speaks in front of the family shop – handcrafted embroidered shawls, scarves and bags as well as some artfully decorated wooden chess sets are sold here – aimed at people passing by in perfect English.
Gentle hustle and bustle
Traditionally, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, Archbishop Pierbattista Pizzaballa, speaks at midnight mass in the Church of the Nativity. The bell strikes at zero o’clock: while the hour-long service is being held in the festively decorated site, many are watching outside via public viewing. The 1,500 tickets for the sermon were completely sold – outside the visitors * inside deal with each other with the tickets in order to give one or the other a look into the sparkling house of God. The international press is there.
In his sermon, Pizzaballa called for more trust between Israelis and Palestinians. He did not seem to have escaped the fact that there had been an above-average number of clashes in and around Jerusalem in the past few weeks, often with fatal results for one side or the other. The President of the Palestinian Authority Mahmoud Abbas was absent this year. He was represented by his deputy, the Palestinian Prime Minister Mohammed Shtajjeh, who entered the city in an armed convoy shortly before the beginning of midnight mass.
Since something happened here about 2,000 years ago that many could never agree on, Bethlehem has been a multicultural burning glass once a year for everything beautiful and eerie that the Middle East has to offer. Inside the devotional sermon among organ tones, incense and candles; Outside there was a gentle hustle and bustle with diesel generators, police sirens and Kalashnikovs. On the way back I ask an American visitor how he felt about the evening: “Beautiful, but harsh,” he replies, “beautiful, but rough.” That’s how it should have been.
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