“I’m really busy right now, Alex,” I replied, hoping he’d buy it. “Plus, you know I’m not real good at playing those games.” “It’s OK, Mom. I’ll show you how,” he responded, his big blue eyes staring right at me.

A Timeless Reminder

For some reason, Alex’s words seemed particularly poignant to me during Advent. I can’t help but wonder if, thousands of years ago, as they cuddled Jesus in that manger, if Mary and Joseph could have ever imagined what their son would teach them and so many others. I know when I first gave birth to my kids, I couldn’t imagine that. But at the same time, I often find myself unwilling to stop and let them teach me. And I’m not quite sure why.

I’m always in awe when I read or witness acts by children that teach me on so many levels. You know what I’m talking about: the stories about young kids donating their birthday money to charity or selling lemonade for a good cause.

Each time I hear one of those stories, I’m stopped in my tracks. But I shouldn’t be. In Isaiah 11:6, haven’t we heard time and time again of “a little child to guide them”? So why don’t we listen? Maybe we’re too busy. Maybe it’s because we think we know better than kids. Maybe we’ve become too cynical and pessimistic that something like a lemonade stand could make a difference. Or maybe it’s because we just haven’t given kids the opportunity to teach us.

Learn Something

This month as we celebrate the birth of Christ, perhaps we should take some time and rejoice in the joy and hope that a child can bring to us—and be open to what that child might teach us. Here are some suggestions to help:

• Be a follower. Our kids can teach us a lot if we let them. Watch and listen to your kids. See what they can teach you about things such as friendship, honesty, enjoying the moment, etc. Often, adults try to pass cynicism off as realism. Look to kids for a true example of realism. 
• Let go of control. As hard as it is to admit sometimes, our way is not necessarily the only way or the right way to do things. Let your children figure out their own way of doing things—within reason. For instance, I’m sure Mary was not too happy when Jesus disappeared during their trip to the Temple (Luke 2:41-51).
• Say yes sometimes. As I said before, I’m not a fan of video games. But the one time I did say yes to Alex and played with him, we had a lot of fun. I even beat the one part of his game that he had been struggling with—don’t ask me how—earning me hero status in his eyes for quite some time.
• Look at the big picture. While I may not get another load of laundry done or the dishwasher loaded because I took the time to play with my kids, I will get more in return. They’re only going to be young once. I need my kids to remind me to take those time-outs.

But it’s narrow-minded of me to neatly categorize an entire year as a loss when it also produced joyous news throughout. In 2019, we saw a decrease in global terrorism, scientists making remarkable strides in detecting and treating Alzheimer’s and diabetes, and a NASA report showing that we are 10 percent greener than in decades past. And those are worth celebrating.

At St. Anthony Messenger, we play a role in the media you consume. While several articles in 2019 tackled weighty, penetrative topics, we also featured stories designed specifically to lift your spirits. In looking back on the year, I understand now that hiding from the news is never the answer, but being consumed by it isn’t either.

Balance is key—and I hope we’ve provided that. Our staff—in fact all of us at Franciscan Media—understand the power of words and the importance of hope. St. Francis cleared that path for us. We walk it still.

The year has had its graces and its challenges. We should look back before we move forward.

In his Four Quartets, T.S. Eliot wrote that “last year’s words belong to last year’s language, and next year’s words await another voice.” If he were alive today, what verses would Eliot use to describe 2019?

As any year in recorded history, there were moments of grace and moments of turmoil. And it started off badly. On January 1, the year’s first mass shooting occurred at the University Village Shopping Center in Tallahassee, Florida, where five were injured. Gun violence, in fact, plagued the nation for the rest of the year.

According to the nonprofit research group Gun Violence Archive, as of September 1, mass shootings were outpacing the number of days in the year. But January wasn’t finished. A scant 24 days later, a dam at the Córrego do Feijão’s Dam in Brazil ruptured, creating a mudflow that killed 248 people.

Hurricanes, wildfires, tornadoes, and floods made their presence known as well. There were, however, shards of light for us to savor this year.

Social media giant Facebook was ordered to pay a record $5 billion penalty to the Federal Trade Commission in July over allegations of privacy offenses. And users reacted accordingly: Social media actions such as posts, comments, and likes on the site dropped by 20 percent.

The first quarter of 2019 also produced good news in environmental and conservation initiatives: eco-drones that successfully planted thousands of saplings in open fields; public schools instituting “meatless Mondays” to combat climate change; and global e-commerce giant Etsy becoming the first to offset carbon emissions from its shipping practices. Sadly, these were only sugar highs.

But the 24-hour news cycle is an unrelenting machine—and much of it centered on President Donald Trump and his administration. In April, Special Prosecutor Robert Mueller released a 448-page report on Russian interference in the 2016 election. A month later, the government’s 25 percent tariff hike on $200 billion worth of Chinese imports took effect, worsening tensions between the two nations.

The year also saw historical and pop-culture anniversaries. Fifty years have passed since American astronauts Neil Armstrong and Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin walked on the moon, Woodstock entertained 350,000 music lovers, Sesame Street debuted on PBS, The Godfather engrossed readers, and moviegoers fell in love with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

A Church in Crisis

The Catholic Church has had a mercurial year as well. We started 2019 mourning the previous December’s shooting inside Our Lady of the Conception Cathedral in Brazil, in which four people were killed. But we also celebrated Catholic Relief Services’ 75 years of lifesaving work, as well as the continuing sainthood causes of Catholic luminaries Augustus Tolton and Thea Bowman.

But it was the sex-abuse crisis that truly dominated Catholic news this year. The grand jury investigation of clergy sexual abuse in six Pennsylvania dioceses started in 2016 and was released in 2018, but its tendrils reached far into this year. The report documented the abuse of more than 1,000 minors by 301 priests and religious over a 70-year period.

Last February, during a four-day summit at the Vatican, which included 190 Catholic leaders, Pope Francis called abusive priests “ravenous wolves” and demanded greater diligence among Church leaders to protect minors and weed out offenders.

Two months later, in April, the Pontifical Commission for the Protection of Minors met in Rome for three days, where members discussed procedures to protect minors. That topic was also at the forefront of the US bishops’ meeting the following June in Baltimore, in which a message was conveyed from Archbishop Christophe Pierre, the Vatican’s nuncio to the United States. While assuring bishops that actionable measures would be taken, he could promise no expediency with those measures.

“In an ecclesial context,” he said, “faster responses do not always produce the best results.” But the overwhelming response to the Church’s often glacial progress in protecting our most vulnerable is this: Survivors deserve better. We, the Church, demand it.

‘Let Us Begin Again’

The true breakout star of 2019 has to be Sweden’s Greta Thunberg, the 16-year-old climate activist who, in September, scolded the United Nations for their lethargy in combating global warming. Her words, often rising to a howl, addressed our collective apathy. But her viral message inspired something adults often struggle with—action. After her fiery oration at the United Nations, student strikes took place throughout the world. This year alone, over one million students have protested in her honor. That should inspire even the most jaded.

It was, from every angle possible, a difficult year. As we look toward the horizon of 2020, what wisdom can we carry with us? Perhaps we can start with the words of St. Francis of Assisi: “Let us begin again, brothers, for up until now, we have done little or nothing.”

This month, millions in Mexico and the United States celebrate their spiritual mother.

Even before the sun breaks through the horizon on December 12, the burst of firecrackers rings throughout Mexico to announce the greatest national fiesta of the year—the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe. 

At la Villa de Guadalupe, the National Sanctuary near Tepeyac Hill, pilgrims begin to arrive days earlier to camp out on the plaza surrounding the Basílica de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe. Many travel for days to get there, entering la Villa on their knees as a sign of their devotion and gratitude for la Virgen Morenita’s protection. By nighttime on December 11, millions have already gathered and the monumental atrium leading to the basilica is standing room only. Much like a family member holding a beloved’s picture close to the heart, pilgrims carry images of their Mother Guadalupe on their backs, banners, and bodies. 

For these faithful pilgrims, the chants, ballads, and traditional dances that are part of Guadalupe’s liturgical celebrations are well known. During the annual dance at Guadalupe Plaza, detailed ballads chanted by elder Indians have chronicled for hundreds of years every aspect of the Guadalupe story: the miracle of the roses, Juan Diego’s account, and the progression and care for the sacred image. Initially communicated only orally, the story of Guadalupe was first recorded through Aztec pictographic chronicles called mapas. The first authored document, “el Nican Mopohua,” was written in 1556 in the official language of the Aztec empire, Náhuatl.

Beyond Mexico, church and home altars honoring the dark-skinned Lady can be found throughout North and South America every December. A traditional Guadalupe celebration begins with las Mañanitas, a special serenade in her honor that takes place at the break of dawn on December 12.

Traditional commemorations include a festive Mass and fiesta, and a procession with children dressed in traditional costumes. The boys typically dress as Juan Diego with a painted mustache and wearing a shawl. The girls dress in multicolored embroidered blouses and flowered skirts—and carry baskets of roses that are placed before the Guadalupe image. 

Celebrating Our Lady of Guadalupe always culminates with the reenactment of the familiar story. In 1531, just a few decades after Christopher Columbus arrived in the New World, the Mother of God appeared three times to a humble Chichimeca Aztec baptized as Juan Diego. Our Lady asked him to be her special messenger and provided proof of their encounters for a skeptical bishop in the form of two signs: a cloak full of fresh roses in December and a miraculous image of herself on Juan Diego’s tilma, or shawl. 

Yet the Guadalupe apparition is not only one of the earliest Marian apparitions. It is also the only time in history that Our Lady has shared her portrait. 

The Heart of the Guadalupe Message

It is not an exaggeration to say that the Guadalupe apparition is the greatest historical moment in the development of Christianity in America. A mere eight years after the apparition, 8,000,000 people had embraced the Catholic faith in the New World. Not only did Our Lady appear as an indigenous woman, but she also recruited an indigenous native from Cuautitlán to proclaim her message. 

“The Blessed Mother has an interesting way of empowering the poor like Juan Diego,” explains Mark Zwick, founder and director of Casa Juan Diego Catholic Worker House in Houston. “You can’t speak that kind of empowerment. She chooses an indigenous person—and that’s revolutionary!”

Throughout history, Our Lady “chooses to appear almost exclusively to those who wouldn’t have a respectable place in society.” 

Saint John Paul II, who in 1979 became the first pope to visit the shrine in Mexico City, described the Guadalupe event as “the beginning of evangelization with a vitality that surpassed all expectations. Christ’s message, through his Mother, took up the central elements of the indigenous culture, purified them, and gave them the definitive sense of salvation.” Together, Our Lady of Guadalupe and Juan Diego have a “deep ecclesial and missionary meaning and are a model of perfectly inculturated evangelization,” said the pope in his homily for Juan Diego’s canonization in 2002.

Patroness of the Americas

It is hardly a coincidence that in 1945, the year that World War II ended, Pope Pius XII looked at the suffering, fragmented world and declared Our Lady of Guadalupe patroness of the Americas.

He knew that both continents North and South, in many ways, share a common heritage—and future. In the words Our Lady spoke to Juan Diego: “I am your Compassionate Mother, yours, for you yourself, for everybody here in the land, for each and all together, for all others too, for all folk of every kind . . . here I shall listen to their groanings, to their saddenings; here shall I make well and heal up their each and every kind of disappointment, of exhausting pangs, of bitter pain.”

“When I see your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and stars that you set in place—
What are humans that you are mindful of them.” (Psalm 8:4-5)

The winter skies are the best for stargazing. Be sure to glance up as you go to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve—or on any clear night at this time of the year. The cold, crisp air makes the stars glitter more than usual.

Some of the best-known constellations and stars can be seen now. Orion the Hunter strides the sky. His shoulder stars are Betelgeuse (Beetlejuice) and Bellatrix. The southernmost of the three stars in his belt is the double star Alnitak. The blue-white star Rigel, believed to be 800 light-years from Earth, marks Orion’s left foot.

Orion’s sword contains several multiple stars, and the gorgeous Orion Nebula lies around the sword’s middle star.

Other Visible Stars

If you mentally draw a line through the stars of Orion’s belt, you will come to the brilliant star Sirius, the eye of one of Orion’s hunting dogs, Canis Major. If you take Orion’s belt line upwards, you come to the red star Aldebaran, the fiery eye of Taurus the Bull. The Pleiades (the Seven Sisters) are the misty group of stars in the bull’s neck, and the Hyades form the V of the bull’s face.

In winter, the Milky Way, our home galaxy, gleams as a silvery slash in the sky directly overhead. And still visible early in the evening is the Galaxy Andromeda, 2.4 million light-years away from Earth. Andromeda hints at the thousands of suns and moons we cannot see but are fairly sure exist.

Mere Mortals

Hubble telescopes, Doppler radars, space probes and other scientific advances have given us more knowledge of the stars than ancient people had, but probably less appreciation of them. Knowing about double stars and light-years does not automatically make astronomers believers in the Drummer of the Big Bang, but for those at all attuned to faith, it’s added proof.

The stars make believers keenly aware of our place in God’s universe and plan. David’s insight is into the contrast between the God of the heavens and himself, a fragile and mortal being. Yet this “awesome” God was with him in his battles building up the Kingdom of Israel and with him as a son and husband and father, in his “ordinary” life. The same God who put these glittering orbs into the heavens and keeps them spinning according to his plan is “mindful” of David and “cares” for him—and about us. Unbelievable but true!

The contrast between galaxies and “little ole me” could not be greater. But faith tells us that God’s care is the same. God loves and cares deeply for me and my family, and wants only the best for us—despite the suffering, pain and death that are our fate. In the end, God wants us with him for eternity, thus making us mortals immortal.

Bridging the Chasm

God chose to bridge the vast gulf between himself and us by sending us his only-begotten Son. And since Jesus’ birth, nothing has been the same. God is truly one of us. The Divine Majesty has given humans new dignity and worth.

Christmas makes us all “star stuff” in a new and glorious way. Kids nowadays say awesome so often it risks making the word meaningless. But if we occasionally look up and remember the Maker of everything, we must give thanks for our truly “awesome” God.

Understanding Psalm 8

Psalm 8, the first hymn of praise in the Book of Psalms, is addressed throughout to God as Creator. God’s majesty is manifested in all of creation (the Hebrew text of verses 2b-3 is very difficult). Humans respond as “mere mortals” with awe and humility (verses 4-5), but God has raised them up very high and given them a share in God’s own rule (see “image of God” in Genesis 1:26-28).

While the psalm sets out humanity’s exalted position, humility is always an essential virtue. The psalm, from beginning to end (verses 2a, 10), is about God and what God has done.

Next Month: Psalm 139

Visiting the birthplace of Jesus makes an indelible mark on pilgrims, who describe the experience as profound, peaceful, and joyful.

A pilgrim travels to a holy place and recalls its sacred story. Perhaps no place in the world combines place and story better than Bethlehem in the Holy Land. For Christians and non-Christians alike over the centuries, the place where Jesus was born captures the imagination.

Its charm is thanks in no small part to St. Francis of Assisi, who created a “new Bethlehem” near the Italian hilltop town of Greccio in the 13th century. Countless Nativity scenes now bring the “little town of Bethlehem ” into the homes of believers.

“Growing up, my ideas of Christmas were a combination of the snowy Santa Claus scenes interspersed with some manger scenes,” says Lisa Sarah Larrabee, who was part of a Franciscan Holy Land pilgrimage last Christmas. “Being in Bethlehem felt more focused on the actual birth of Jesus than some of my holiday observances at home, which focus more on winter, gifts, and St. Nicholas’ legacy.”

For pilgrims, for the Franciscan friars who help to care for Bethlehem’s shrines, and for the Palestinian Christians who live there, the city is a mixture of beauty, discovery, mission, and challenge.

Franciscan Father Sandro Tomaševic, who welcomes pilgrims throughout the year, says that celebrating the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem is “a big grace and honor.” He adds, “For me as a Franciscan and as a priest, it truly means to live again the great event of the Incarnation, the birth of Christ.”

Like so many places in the Holy Land, Bethlehem confronts the pilgrim with layers of complexity. First-time visitors are surprised to find it’s only about a 30-minute bus ride from the center of Jerusalem. But the trip is complicated by the 120-mile separation barrier that divides the occupied West Bank from Israel. All traffic must pass through an Israeli military checkpoint. Beyond the wall, Bethlehem itself is under the limited control of the Palestinian Authority, whose police patrol the city. Foreign visitors enter and return with reasonable ease.

For Palestinian citizens, permits are necessary to enter Israel for work or study; some can only leave under very restrictive conditions, while others may encounter long delays in accessing their workplace or classroom. This political reality recalls for the visitor at Christmas the journey of Mary and Joseph—themselves outsiders to Bethlehem in Luke’s Nativity story—lacking a place to stay and subject to Roman authority.

‘A Continual Feast’

Christmas Eve in Bethlehem sets in motion a round of civil and liturgical events celebrated according to ancient traditions, governed by the agreement among Christian communities in the Holy Land known as the status quo.

Franciscan Father Benjamin Owusu guides pilgrims to Bethlehem. He points out that, to the people in Bethlehem, Christmas is “a continual feast, beginning from the first of December when preparations are taking place and then moves through the 24th and beyond . . . and it goes through early January, because the various communities have different dates for celebrating Christmas.”

Bethlehem is home to both Catholic (Latin) Christians and Orthodox Christians, as well as other Arab-speaking citizens, including Muslims. The season begins with “Latin” Christmas Eve on December 24 and concludes in mid-January with the Christmas and Epiphany celebrations of Greek and Armenian Orthodox Christians. In the ancient Church of the Nativity, three Christian communities—Greek Orthodox; Latin (Roman) Catholics, represented by the Franciscans; and Armenian Orthodox—celebrate the birth of Christ at fixed times and in various places.

For Latin-rite Catholics, the schedule of the status quo determines Christmas celebrations by either the Latin patriarch (the archbishop for Latin-rite Catholics in Israel, Jordan, and Cyprus) or the Franciscan custos of the Holy Land (the minister provincial of the Friars Minor living throughout the Middle East). These liturgies take place in Bethlehem’s Church of the Nativity and the Church of St. Catherine of Alexandria, the parish church for Palestinian Catholics.

Latin-rite Catholics mark the start of the Christmas feast on the afternoon of Christmas Eve with the arrival of the Latin patriarch. The city’s mayor and other civic officials meet him at the Tomb of Rachel, located at an entrance in the separation wall. They escort the patriarch to Manger Square, where he is greeted by the Holy Land Franciscans and other clergy and residents of the city, as well as over 30 groups of Christian scouts, with marching bands. The friars lead him into the Church of the Nativity through the church’s small door—visitors literally bow at the waist to pass through, a reminder that the church was threatened in ancient times by plundering forces on horseback.

The procession passes into St. Catherine’s Church, which adjoins the Church of the Nativity. “We enter singing the ‘Te Deum,'” Father Ben says, “thanking God for a safe arrival. And then, shortly after a break, we begin the first vespers of Christmas.” Following this evening prayer, all process into the Church of the Nativity and down a series of steps into the grotto (cave) where Jesus was born.

All day, people gather just outside the church in Manger Square. Franciscan pilgrim Sue Forster recalls her excitement: “Walking in the footsteps of Our Lord over the Christmas pilgrimage, praying for our families back home, and placing their intentions at the different holy sites touched so many souls. It made the whole season reverent and joyful, away from the commercial rush and tension of being overly committed. Meeting other pilgrims from around the world made you realize how universal our Catholic Church is and [that] we are all one body.”

By long-standing tradition, the Franciscans invite civic authorities to a Christmas Eve dinner. Among the guests is the president of the Palestinian Authority, which governs portions of the West Bank surrounding Bethlehem, as well as the mayor of Bethlehem, ambassadors from different countries, and other officials.

‘For Christ Was Born of Mary’

Later that evening, midnight Mass is celebrated by the Latin patriarch in St. Catherine’s Church. In 2018, over 1,400 people attended. Franciscan Father Tomasz Dubiel, head of the Christian Information Center in Jerusalem, notes, “Most of the participants come from the United States, Italy, and France. Every year, we allocate a certain percentage of [free] tickets per country of origin.”

Since space is limited, those who cannot fit inside follow the Mass on video screens in nearby halls and in Manger Square—where a large Christmas tree is set up near a stage and choral groups from different parts of the world entertain through Christmas Eve and the next day.

The presider at the midnight Mass on Christmas 2018 was Archbishop Pierbattista Pizzaballa, serving as temporary apostolic administrator for the Latin Patriarchate. In his homily, he reminded all those present—civil and religious leaders as well as the faithful—of the meaning of Christmas in that sacred place:

“The birth of Christ in Bethlehem is . . . God’s step toward our land and our cities, and the invitation to go to Bethlehem, already addressed to the shepherds and the Magi, is repeated to us today, and from there to go to the extreme limits of the earth,” the archbishop said.

He added a challenge: “On this night, celebrating the birth of Christ in Bethlehem, we proclaim, together with the angels, love for this land, for its cities; we want to respond to the vocation received to be here as architects of peace, prophets of hope, convinced and convincing witnesses of sharing and dialogue.”

At the end of the Mass, a procession winds from St. Catherine’s into the Church of the Nativity, where the patriarch places a statue of the infant Jesus into the manger in the Grotto of the Nativity.

Although the Grotto is now richly adorned with marble, tapestries, and hanging lamps, a pilgrim can still appreciate the humility of Jesus’ birth. Franciscan pilgrim Elizabeth Awuor Omondi reflected on “God’s decision of when and where Jesus was to be born, inside a humble and simple setting, a cave used as an animal shed with livestock on a cold night in Bethlehem.” She took away from her pilgrimage” a clarion call to all to live a life imitating Jesus’ humility!”

When midnight Mass ends, according to Father Ben, the status quo permits the Franciscans to begin “a chain of celebrations in the Grotto till daybreak. . . . Each friar goes individually or with a group, and they continue every half hour.”

At the Milk Grotto, a Franciscan shrine that recalls Mary’s nursing of the infant Jesus, pilgrim Sue Forster had a special moment on Christmas Day. “I was so moved by seeing the statue of Our Blessed Mother nursing Jesus, and then the eucharistic chapel there, with the [contemplative] sisters adoring, was so wonderful,” she recalls. “We got lost in deep meditation there, my daughter and I, journaling our reflections on Mary’s model of motherhood.”

‘Shepherds in the Fields Nearby’

The Shepherds’ Field, a Franciscan shrine that commemorates the appearance of the angel host to shepherds, is about a 20-minute drive from Manger Square. The friars welcome Christmas pilgrims who cannot be accommodated elsewhere. Father Ben spent one Christmas Eve on duty there from 6 p.m. to 3 a.m., welcoming pilgrims and directing them to various altars throughout the shrine, where Mass was celebrated. It made for a long night— “Sleep is not in the vocabulary!” he laughs.

The Franciscan pilgrim group last December celebrated their Christmas Eve Mass at Shepherds’ Field. Lisa Larrabee sets the scene: “We were huddled in a small, simple cave with an altar and a manger scene. I got shivers to think that, 2,000 years ago, the shepherds may have roamed these very caves before bearing witness to Jesus’ first moments.”

Sue Forster agrees: “I remember thinking that was the most intimate and profound Christmas Eve Mass ever because there weren’t the throngs of people and the ‘production’ of the Christmas Eve Mass that our big parish at home does. So that intimate Mass was just glorious. We all were moved to tears.”

For Julie Elena Aliaga-Milos, that night “is engraved in my heart. The Mass was beautiful, and when we walked out, I felt that the environment had changed somehow: The moon was out, the air was lighter and crisper, and it felt so peaceful, although there were several groups gathered outside. I couldn’t help thinking how much more peaceful it must have been the night our Savior was born.”

A Spirit of Welcome Despite Hardships

Throughout Christmas, Manger Square is a gathering point for visitors. The many souvenir shops, Father Ben says, “stay open as long as you have people around. I think they do a 24-hour business because they cannot miss what is the greatest business day they have in the year!”

Lisa Larrabee remembers that “we were able to stroll through Manger Square and pick up some gifts or just sit on benches outside the church and absorb the scene and the occasion. It was fun to see others from all over the world taking pictures and savoring their time. I always felt safe there in terms of it being peaceful and orderly, and I felt welcomed.”

Jeries Kitlo emphasizes that hospitality is part of the Palestinian identity. “Bethlehem wouldn’t be Bethlehem if we were to close up on ourselves and just not allow other Christians or other people to come,” he says. “So we welcome people, and it doesn’t matter if they are Christian or Muslim. In Palestine, we just treat them like our own.”

Sina Pierret witnessed this spirit of welcome. “In Bethlehem, the people are friendly,” she says. “They’re kind. You can certainly see the challenges and the hardships that they endure because of the circumstances. And yet they are carving out a living. And they’re very dependent upon the pilgrims who come to visit and to share and to purchase their artwork, plus tips and so forth.” In the midst of the beauty of Christmas, she was aware of the challenges in the daily lives of the Palestinian citizens.

“You see their struggle. You see their poverty—poverty materially or perhaps in resources—but they certainly are rich spiritually.”

Amany Abu Awad, who lives in the neighboring village of Beit Jala, is a Palestinian Christian woman in her mid-20s. For her, the Christmas story is also a reminder of what remains unfulfilled for her people.

“Palestine is the Holy Land, and Bethlehem is the birthplace of Jesus Christ, the king of peace. Yet for 70 years, Palestinians haven’t lived a single day of peace,” she says. “On a daily basis, we experience humiliation, dehumanization, and violation of human rights.”

Young Palestinians face unemployment or underemployment, forcing them to emigrate seeking better opportunities and a decent life. She dreams of a day “when the occupation ends [and] Palestinians who have emigrated, especially young people, will return to Palestine.”

Amany hopes that pilgrims who visit Bethlehem will become “the voice of the voiceless and break the silence about the Palestinian reality. For this reason, it is really important that they come to Palestine and witness the daily struggles of Palestinians under occupation and the injustices we face.”

A Journey Every Christian Should Consider

Christmas pilgrims sometimes put off the trip due to safety concerns. Jeries Kitlo wants those thinking of a pilgrimage to Bethlehem and the rest of the Holy Land not to base their reluctance on “images and videos on media [where] people claim that it’s dangerous.” He cautions them not to allow exaggerated fears to “keep you from visiting such a holy place in our faith.”

Another pilgrim, Caterina Anna Gliosca, agrees. “Most of those close to me—family and friends—worried,” she says. “I told them I felt safe, secure, protected, at peace, calm.” She urges all to visit: “It makes the Bible come to life. I feel I have a better knowledge of where I am from.”

Visiting the Grotto of the Nativity on Christmas Day, Julie Aliaga-Milos experienced one of the blessings of pilgrimage—the spirit of community within the pilgrim group. “We waited in line for a long time,” she recalls. “I have arthritis in my knees, and it was very hard standing up for so long. As we approached the stairs to go down to the birth site, I wasn’t sure if I could manage the few steps on my own. As if on cue, two fellow pilgrims grabbed me by each arm, so I was able to go down. Bless their hearts!

“As I touched the blessed site, something deep overtook me, and I felt so humbled by it and unworthy to be there. I could not help it and broke down in tears as I came out of there. Another lady in the group, seeing me in this way, consoled me with sweet words until I was able to control my tears.”

Lisa Larrabee sums up her Christmas in Bethlehem: “It put Christmas in a clearer perspective and focused me on the story of Jesus more so than the story of St. Nicholas. For example, just experiencing a warm, dry Christmas in a region marked by deserts and warm-climate foliage and plants was a stark reminder of how the original Christmas may have occurred, separate from the wintry images I had grown up with.

“I also got to get a deeper understanding of the Holy Family’s journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. There was a simplicity and purity to this Christmas, as it was focused on the religious aspects and I wasn’t as distracted by the other trappings of Christmas such as cooking, parties, and gift exchanges. Those are all a nice part of Christmas as well, but this put the events around Jesus’ birth into a sharper focus, which I think I will always hold on to.”