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Middle East
Christmas survival
4 min read

Last Christmas in Bethlehem

With its Christmas displays cancelled, Bethlehem resident Christy Anastas writes about a bleak future for its Christian Palestinian community.

Christy Anastas is a Bethlehem resident. She is a Palestinian advocate for nonviolent ways of mediating a more stable Middle East.

A church gable featuring a cross, a Madonna and angel Christmas decorations.
2017 Christmas decorations on the Church of the Nativity, Bethlehem
Jana Humeedat, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Religious minority groups, like Christians, represent about one per cent of the overall Palestinian population. We feel stuck between a rock and a hard place in this conflict. As a consequence of this war, many of us are already planning to emigrate once the opportunity arises. If this happens, Bethlehem will virtually become a non-Christian city. This would be a sad outcome given it was the birthplace of Jesus Christ and that in the early 1900s the Christian population used to be just under 85 per cent. Now Bethlehem's population is approximately five per cent Christian. After this war we fear that these statistics would decrease even more. The main source of income of the city heavily relies on tourism, with almost 70 per cent of Bethlehem’s GDP due to religious pilgrims from all over the world visiting Jesus Christ’s birthplace, especially during Christmas.   

This is the first year for decades, when all Christmas festive displays have been cancelled in Bethlehem. This decision taken by Bethlehem municipality and the Palestinian church is a sobering and poignant one and comes with a financial heavy price paid by locals. Such traditions have been kept for decades, even during the second Intifada, so that between 2000 to 2005 a Christmas tree in Manager Square was still displayed each year. Even the Covid-19 pandemic did not stop Bethlehem from decorating the entire city. However, today many Palestinian Christians are not in a festive mood. The Israel-Hamas war is in its second month and has already a higher death toll than during the whole of five years of the second Intifada.   

A ceasefire is what Palestinian Christians will be praying for during this Christmas, alongside praying against the perpetual cycles of death, violence, and destruction. 

In my opinion it feels fitting to stand in solidarity with those who mourn, inspired by Paul’s letter to the Romans encouraging Christians to “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn”. During such devastating circumstances of the civilians in Gaza, Palestinian Christians are heartbroken at the enormity of lives lost and the desperate conditions experienced especially by children. The desire to celebrate the birth of the most important child in Christianity’s history is dimmed by the death toll of children in Gaza during this war. An ancient biblical proverb offers a powerful depiction of what it would be like for us Christians to celebrate Christmas as usual. It would have felt “like one who takes away a garment on a cold day, or like vinegar poured on a wound, is one who sings songs to a heavy heart.” 

However, the announcement of the cancellation issued by the head of Bethlehem municipality, was made exclusively in honour of Palestinian “martyrs”, in Gaza and the West Bank. This disappointing statement distorts the church’s role in the region as a peace builder and the bridge amongst different communities and ethnicities. In fact, it is an utterly missed opportunity for the church to demonstration its ethics and values in the region, especially when confronted with losses of lives across all ethnicities and religions. A more inclusive nuanced statement that could have honoured the suffering of all, could have been worded along the lines of offering tributes to the devastating losses of lives in the Israel-Hamas war since the 7th of October, without any discrimination or prejudice. That old proverb continues to say, “if your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink.” 

The exclusivity of the statement's approach made by the churches was a lost opportunity to express a more authentic side of Christianity to the world revealed from its birthplace. It could have counteracted the way the church was portrayed in Europe during the Holocaust. It could have been the chance to respond in a less indifferent manner to the plights of the Jewish people in the region, rather than reiterate a similar stance of the European churches during World War II. 

A ceasefire is what Palestinian Christians will be praying for during this Christmas, alongside praying against the perpetual cycles of death, violence, and destruction, inspired by what our brothers and sisters in Gaza have conveyed to us in private communication. Christians in Gaza are pleading for peace and stating that as a community, they oppose violence. The zero-sum approach towards this war has made it difficult for us Christians to be true to our faith without being condemned or oppressed for it. When we call for a ceasefire, we are accused of supporting terrorism and denying Israel’s right to self-defence. However, when we want to acknowledge the suffering of the Israeli side during the 7th of October, we are deemed to be traitors. Our objective isn’t to attempt to prevent Israel from defending itself; rather, to suggest that the consequences of inflicting violence and bloodshed in retaliation could reinforce a stronger hold for violence and extremism in the region.  

Therefore, most Palestinian Christians do not feel they have the freedom to stand for their beliefs and the churches in the region are not portraying the best paradigm. In my opinion, this is one of the main factors behind the drastic decline of the Christian population generally especially in Bethlehem. It is also why they no longer hold as much power as they used to in influencing the culture and mindsets in the area. Their roles became more politicised which has gradually led them to neglect standing up for truth until it has become too dangerous to even express it. This could well lead to a reality where this would be the last Christmas in Bethlehem for a majority of Christian families.  

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Character
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5 min read

Daunted by dad-hood, encouraged by dad

Imminent parenthood pushes Nick Brewer to pause and consider what sort of Dad he needs to be.

Nick Brewer is a critically acclaimed rapper and recording artist. He is a patron of Anxiety UK, and runs Talk About It - helping young people explore creative writing. 

A dad hovers with open arms ready to catch a baby taking first steps
Peter Dlhy on Unsplash

I’m about to become a father for the first time.  

While there is excitement and joy as my wife and I prepare to start this new chapter of life, I’m not sure that I feel qualified to be a dad. As someone with an anxious disposition, I like to be as prepared as possible for any task ahead. However, just six weeks from the due date, I could quite easily do with another nine months to get ready for the new arrival.  

I’ve been reading books about parenting, listening to podcasts, attending classes with my wife, all to try and equip myself with the necessary skills. I’ve also tried to do as much DIY as my limited skillset allows me, to make the house ‘baby ready’.  

Yet, I can’t get away from this nagging feeling that I might not have what it takes to be a good dad. Watching my wife flourish over these last few months, building a strong connection with the baby and preparing for motherhood, is quite astounding. Honestly, I can’t say I have that same feeling of connection with the baby. 

What do I say to a bump? I’m rarely at a loss for words in life, but I was stumped. 

This lack of connection became clearest to me when my wife first suggested that I speak to the bump, so that the baby could get to know my voice. As I hesitantly stooped down and got in position to talk, my mind went completely blank. What do I say to a bump? I’m rarely at a loss for words in life, but I was stumped.  An awkward ‘hello’ and ‘how are you?’ wasn’t cutting it.  

Suddenly, I had an idea to sing a song. My song of choice was ‘All My Loving’ by The Beatles. This isn’t a song that I’ve listened to in at least ten years, and my wife had never even heard it. So, why did this song come to mind at that moment? Some sort of distant memory had crept in, of my own father singing this to me as a child, most nights before I went to sleep. As this memory came back to me, I started to think, what can I learn about the role of a father from the example set by my own father? 

Can I reach the incredibly high bar that my dad has set for parenting? I’m not so sure, but I’ve got no excuse not to, as I’ve had a near perfect example in him. 

My dad is a very different character to me. While I often overthink and worry about everything, my dad just seems to have an ability to get on with life, regardless of what he might be going through. He’s not the most outwardly emotional man. It would be rare for him to answer the question ‘how are you?’ with anything other than ‘fine’.  

He’s much more of a ‘man’s man’ than me; one of those guys that just seems generally good at most handy things. He’s the type of guy that you would want to help install laminate flooring or rewire a lamp. He’s reliable, having been with the same employer for nearly 40 years, and he gives great financial advice. He is not hypermasculine in any way, but he’s solid. Dependable. He would do anything to help anyone, no matter what it may cost him.  

He has a lot of qualities that a good father needs, and as his son I’ve reaped many rewards from having a dad like this. I’ve grown up feeling safe and reassured. And while I’ve picked up some of my dad’s traits, I’m not sure how similar we are. I’m a lot more emotionally wired than he is. I worry about things that I imagine have never crossed his mind. I’ve spent a lot of time chasing creative pursuits and sought work opportunities that I believed would fulfil me. I’ve spent countless hours trying to figure out my ‘purpose’. I’m extremely unskilled when it comes to DIY. I worry that I’m just a lot more selfish than he is. Can I reach the incredibly high bar that my dad has set for parenting? I’m not so sure, but I’ve got no excuse not to, as I’ve had a near perfect example in him. 

While I could go on about my dad’s various qualities, when I think of the ways in which he has impacted me most, one of the most important things he did was create a safe environment for me to grow up and develop in.  

Through his willingness to patiently let me become myself, with the parental guidance that was required of him of course, he demonstrated love. 

From a young age, I just had this feeling that I could express anything to my dad. Over the years I’ve asked countless questions, expressed numerous fears, and explored several different interests with him. Looking back as an adult, I imagine that I’ve frustrated my dad on several occasions; pondering and worrying about things that he knew I didn’t need to. But he didn’t shut me down, he created space for me to express those things.  

There’s a piece of advice from James, one of the leaders of the early Christians, way back 1,900 years ago. He encouraged his reader to be ‘quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry’. That’s what my dad exhibited to me. He didn’t bat away my worrisome thoughts or ignore my silly questions. He didn’t show frustration, although I’m sure at times he might’ve wanted to. The way that he interacted with me communicated that I was safe and loved. I’m sure he didn’t get everything right, and I imagine if I asked him, he would be able to detail all the things he did wrong. But through his willingness to patiently let me become myself, with the parental guidance that was required of him of course, he demonstrated love.  

For me, the love my father showed me is a picture of God’s love for his children. As I spend these last few weeks to prepare in whatever way I can to become a dad, I rest assured that, even though I am guaranteed to get things wrong, I will have ample opportunity to love my child. St Paul described love as, among other things, patient, kind, the opposite of self-seeking, and always protective.  

As I embark on a journey where I will try and fail and try again to be a good father, I know that I don’t need to be perfect, I just need to show love in tangible ways. My favourite line of ‘All My Loving’ by The Beatles is: 

‘All my loving, I will send to you.’  

I can’t wait to get the opportunity to do that with my unborn child.