When the world was dark…

The manger scene in Christmas Church Bethlehem this year has the Christ child among the rubble.

‘Beloved, in these difficult times let us comfort ourselves with God’s presence amid pain, and even amid death, for Jesus is no stranger to pain, arrest, torture, and death. He walks with us in our pain.

God is under the rubble in Gaza. He is with the frightened and the refugees. He is in the operating room. This is our consolation. He walks with us through the valley of the shadow of death. If we want to pray, my prayer is that those who are suffering will feel this healing and comforting presence.’

Rev Dr Munther Isaac, pastor of Evangelical Lutheran Christmas Church, Bethlehem[1] preached these words of heartbreak and consolation on 22^nd October, following the bombing of St. Porphyrius Greek Orthodox Church in Gaza, when 18 were killed and many injured and 400 others who had been sheltering there were displaced.

Since then, following the pause which allowed some hostages to be released and some humanitarian aid to enter Gaza, the destructive bombing, indiscriminate and total, has resumed. The Israeli Defence Force have issued warnings for civilians to move: but there is nowhere to go. It is reckoned there may be as many as 1.8M internally displaced people.

As I write, on December 5^th, aid agencies have been unable to deliver much needed supplies, including water, food and fuel, and mobile phone networks have been cut. This, for family and friends who have used this point of contact, thin as a spider’s spun silk, as a way to keep going and keep hoping is torture. For those inside Gaza it must feel like confirmation that the world has forgotten them.

‘Why don’t you tear open the heavens and come down?’ yells the prophet, at a closed and darkened sky.[2]

What response is appropriate this Advent time?

Dave Hardman, Methodist Liaison Officer in Jerusalem, who like me is currently in the UK, has wanted to devise some way that our Advent liturgy might reflect our acknowledgement of the horror and distress being experienced in the Holy Land at this time. The second candle in the Advent ring is sometimes called the Bethlehem candle. Dave’s suggestion, which has been taken up by Methodist, United Reformed Church and Church of Scotland congregations, is not to light that candle this year, but to reflect on the words of the heads of churches and patriarchs in Jerusalem, calling their flocks to a time of spiritual reflection when celebration is not possible.[3] at http://bit.ly/unlit

There is a liturgy, using the 10^th November statement as its inspiration:

Advent Candle (Not) Lighting Liturgy

The lights don’t shine in Bethlehem

This Advent time.

Too much suffering and uncertainty.

Too much loss and grief.

Instead, the Christian people of the Holy Land

Call for an end to war;

Speak out for those suffering the most;

Give generously to support

The growing number of very needy people

Who have lost loved ones, homes, jobs

And face huge uncertainty.

Their prayer is for a lasting peace in their

Beloved Holy Land.

In Christ’s incarnation, they look forward to a time

‘When death shall be no more, neither mourning, nor crying,

Nor pain, for the former things have passed away.’ Rev 21:4

To stand with them we choose not to light the second candle

In our Advent Wreath

And we pray, ‘Come, Immanuel, God-with-us, come be with your

Suffering people now.’ Amen

This is an action which may have its place in the UK and elsewhere, but some have reacted against it. ‘We need all the light we can get,’ they say. And that is a legitimate response. What we can’t do is ‘business as usual’. At the moment, for so many, this Advent time is a time of darkness and pain and suffering and fear.

This fear is shared by Israelis and Palestinians; by Jews, Muslims and Christians. It is shared in Jerusalem and Nazareth and Bethlehem and Ramallah and Gaza. The Christian community is less than 2% of the population, yet their influence in terms of providing care through education and hospitals and work programmes and psycho-social projects is immense. In Advent we look for the light. And we share what little light we have:

Will you come into our lives 

If we open them to you? 

When the world was dark 

And the city was quiet 

You came. 

You crept in beside us. 

Do the same this Christmas, Lord. 

Do the same this Christmas.[4]

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[1] https://sojo.net/articles/god-under-rubble-gaza

[2] Isaiah 64:1

[3] https://en.abouna.org/content/patriarchs-and-heads-churches-jerusalem-issue-statement

[4] Part of Advent prayer Wild Goose Resource Group, Iona Community

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