BETHLEHEM
Nativity
Square, Bethlehem
The Word became flesh; his flesh becomes our
food.
One day I decided to get up early to pray in quiet at the
Grotto of the Nativity. I grabbed my Spanish New
Testament and English missalette and set off down the
street to the Church of the Nativity.
The site of
the Birth of Jesus Christ
I sat in quiet for about ten minutes, reading
Luke’s account of the birth of Jesus. Here I was in
the spot where Jesus was born. God is not up in the sky;
he has come down and lived among us.
In a few minutes, a Franciscan friar came and prepared an
altar in the grotto for Mass. It wasn’t the altar
where the star indicates the place of Christ’s
birth but an altar by the place of the manger.
Soon a few others came and a priest began Mass. At first
I thought it was in Spanish but soon realized the priest
was speaking Italian. I followed the Mass in a little
English missal I had brought.
The Mass was familiar – I’ve been to
thousands in my life. But this one was different. As the
consecration approached I was filled with a sense of
something important, in a way I had not experienced often
before. I realized that here in the place where the Word
became flesh, the Word was coming again in a unique way.
Since I was a child I have believed that Christ becomes
present in a very special way in the Eucharist at Mass.
But here I was, at Mass in the place of the Incarnation.
The one who became flesh as a tiny babe was here in the
bread, present to feed and sustain me.
The Word has become flesh – and he has become food
for me. Born in poverty, present in the vulnerable host,
God has come for me.
THE REFUGEE
CAMP: Won’t you let them weep!
Later that morning I went with Omar to the Dheisheh
refugee camp in Bethlehem, which is one of the largest
refugee camps in the West Bank and is a hot bed of
radicalism.
The Dheisheh refugee camp was founded in the 1950s to
house refugees from the 1948 war. Families from forty six
villages still live there, unable to return home. Many of
them have built concrete block houses.
We visited the camp and first toured the cultural center.
i was not very comfortable with the guide who seemed too
ideological for me.
But after the tour we went to visit a house in the camp
that had been partially demolished at 3:55 am that day by
Israeli forces. One of the residents of the house, Ahmed,
a Palestinian policeman, showed us around and told what
had happened. For a few minutes we sat on couches in his
destroyed living room. I half-expected him to offer us
tea.
He pointed out the pictures of his two brothers who were
in prison. He led us up to the upper floors where we
walked precariously amid the rubble from the blasts that
had destroyed the upper floors of his home and damaged
nearby houses, including the attached building which
housed a kindergarten in its bottom two floors.
Apparently, for a crime of his brothers, the building
which housed his family and the families of his father,
uncle, and brothers was destroyed. It seems so unjust. No
matter what a person does, such a collective punishment,
without any judicial proceedings, seems vindictive. I
cannot see how that can bring peace.
When the Israeli forces blew up the upper floors of the
house, they had put the women and the men of the house in
a room in a nearby house. When the bombs were detonated,
the noise was thunderous and the women began to shriek.
An Israeli soldier told them to shut up. Ahmed confronted
the soldier, telling him, “You just blew up our
house; the least you can do is let us scream!”
As we left, Ahmed told us, “Don’t worry, This
is occupation. The one who built this house will rebuild
it.”
Bethlehem
from one of an upper floor of the home,
showing the effects of the demolition
Here I
was in Bethlehem, where Christ was born in Bethlehem. He
pitched his tent among us, as John’s Gospel puts
it. When he came, he was born in an occupied country,
under the control of a foreign empire. I recalled that
now, as in the past, Christ has pitched his tent in a
place where people suffer. We may worship at the grotto
but we must find him in the pain, the fear, the
isolation, and the suffering of the people – in
Bethlehem and in other places of pain throughout the
world.
The Herds of the world are afraid of the incarnate Lord.
They send troops to kill the innocent children. The poor
suffer still – and Christ suffers with them,
whether they be Christian, Muslim, or Jew.
Let them weep.
Let us weep.
Lord, have mercy.