The Holy Land has a wealth of important sites, from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem to the Shepherds’ Field near Bethlehem. The stones which stand on these sites mark the birth, life and death of Christ in Palestine. But it is the Christian population in the Holy Land who are the ‘living stones’ – the ones who can trace a direct line back to the days of Christ and who inhabit the areas he lived and walked in.
Today, Christians living in the Holy Land face myriad obstacles in their daily lives. But their Christian faith helps them to confront and, where possible, overcome these challenges to act as instruments of peace and reconciliation between Palestinians and Israelis. Among my Christian friends in the Holy Land one message is clear – the main problem facing Christians today is the Israeli military occupation, which has lasted forty-one years. These friends tell me that they face this challenge together with Muslims, and remind me that Christians and Muslims continue to live in harmony in towns like Bethlehem and Gaza.
It is the occupation which is responsible for preventing Christians from Bethlehem praying in Jerusalem, for preventing Christians in Gaza from studying abroad and for placing Palestinians in prisons without any trial. For me, one personal story relates the challenges of Christian life very effectively. I lived in the Gaza Strip for two years. During that time I lived with a Palestinian Christian called Saliba (‘the Cross’ in Arabic) from Ramallah. Although Ramallah and Gaza are hardly two hours drive apart it is largely forbidden for Palestinians to move between the two without special permission. As an engineer working for an international company, Saliba’s employers secured him permission to live and work in Gaza. Whenever he wanted to visit his family he needed a special permit to travel to Ramallah.
For my first Christmas in the Holy Land I decided to spend Christmas Eve in Bethlehem in the Church of the Nativity, the place where Jesus was born. Then I would travel to Ramallah to spend Christmas Day with Saliba and his family.
By Christmas Eve, however, his permit had not been issued by the Israeli army, even though his application had been made weeks before. We waited all day until we realised that he would not spend Christmas Eve with his family. Christmas Eve is a very special time in the Greek Orthodox faith and he was utterly disappointed not to be near his loved ones. I knew that if Saliba was not going to be allowed to leave Gaza then I could not leave him alone at Christmas time. It meant I would miss the celebrations in Manger Square. But Christmas is not about the place you celebrate it in but about the people you celebrate it with.
On Christmas Day we made a big effort to have a ‘normal’ Christmas, both of us far away from our families. We cooked turkey, lamb and roasted some potatoes and vegetables and covered them in gravy. I was amazed to learn that a Palestinian Christmas dinner is very much like an Irish one! We invited over some good Muslim friends and celebrated Christmas together, sharing food, stories and happiness.
Saliba hoped that he would get a permit to leave Gaza on Christmas Day so that he might see his family after Christmas. But it did not come that day either. Finally, on St. Stephen’s Day, we got a phone call from Ramallah, from Saliba’s brother. There was some good news – the permit had been issued! But there was also some bad news – the document was in Ramallah, not at the checkpoint in Gaza.
I was shocked.
The permit which Saliba needed to travel to Ramallah was in Ramallah. Without the permit he could not go to collect the permit, so he was trapped in Gaza. It was like something from a novel by Franz Kafka or George Orwell. After some time we found a French diplomat in Ramallah who was coming to Gaza and who would bring the permit with him, the next day. Upon delivery Saliba left directly for Ramallah and spent some time with his family. Stories like this are the daily bread of Palestinians – Christians and Muslims alike. These kinds of torturous restrictions, combined with daily arrests and killings, make their life a living hell.
In his last Pastoral letter before retirement the ‘Patriarch’, or Bishop, of Jerusalem (who visited Ireland in 2007 with Trócaire) said “The Christians are involved in this conflict. To be a spectator is not the vocation of Christians. Like all Palestinians we are victims of the occupation. Like all Palestinians we have to pay a price for freedom, including freedom to access the Holy Places.” Patriarch Sabbah also goes on to recognise that Christians have a special role in serving as instruments of peace in the Holy Land.
Just after Easter I enjoyed the special privilege of travelling to the Holy Land with Cardinal Seán Brady and the leaders of the other Christian faiths in Ireland. This historical pilgrimage was as much about healing Christian divisions in Ireland as it was about expressing solidarity and learning about life under occupation. Many of our meetings were moving experiences, where we glimpsed the pain of people affected by conflict. One Israeli woman shared her story, recounting how her son had been killed by a Palestinian. She asked the Church leaders for a definition of forgiveness. To this day I am struck by the definition offered by Cardinal Brady. This definition encapsulates the mission of Christians in the Holy Land, and the world over, in trying to bring peace and reconciliation to the lives of ordinary Israelis and Palestinians, as well as in our own daily lives: “Forgiveness is when you give something to the person who has harmed you.”
Eóin Murray is Trócaire’s Palestine Programme Officer. For more information about Trócaire’s work in the Holy Land please contact Eóin at emurray@trocaire.ie or 01-6293333.