Christmas Eve for Christians in Gaza: Confinement, no toys, and explosions near the church

Nisrin Antone’s Christmas wish is to celebrate Christmas Eve again with her husband and three daughters, around a table in a real home. Since October 2023, this 45-year-old Palestinian Christian has been confined with her family to a small office in the Holy Family parish church, in the heart of Gaza City. Along with them are some 400 other people, all with very similar stories and longings, as well as three priests, five nuns, and about 50 people with disabilities whom they care for. “My wish involves something much bigger: peace for Gaza. I ask God for it every day. Because only then will we be able to recover our lives,” she explains to this newspaper by phone.

It will be the third Christmas that the Christians of the Strip have spent practically entrenched, without the desire or material means to celebrate, surrounded by a ruined city that they no longer recognize and fearful of what may come.

“We won’t have outdoor celebrations, like lights, dancing, or a raffle, because the war is still going on. This ceasefire has improved the situation, but the war continues in other ways, depriving people of the assistance they need,” explains parish priest Gabriel Romanelli to this newspaper, citing, for example, that the electrical system is not working, the water pipes are destroyed, the medical system is collapsed, and 50% of essential medicines are lacking, according to the UN.

The Holy Family Church is the only Catholic church in the Gaza Strip, where exactly 1,017 Christians lived before the war — 135 of them Catholic and the rest Greek Orthodox — out of a total population of about 2.2 million. In all the Palestinian territories, the Christian community makes up less than 2% of the population. “As Christians, we cannot be sad at Christmas. In the darkness of this war, we must remember that God comes to save us, and that is why we will celebrate simply,” Romanelli added.

“Our neighbors have lost many loved ones, so out of respect for them there will be no ostentation,” Antone points out.

Days spent searching in vain for a toy

The parish’s modest Christmas preparations take hours or even days, because in Gaza any act that aspires to recover a little of the normality prior to October 7, 2023 is tremendously laborious and, in many cases, unrealistic.

One of Antone’s missions is to ensure that Catholics in lockdown have a special meal, a sweet treat, or a small gift on Christmas Eve. “Weeks ago, I started going to the open markets looking for Christmas decorations. I found a shop that hadn’t been bombed and had a few ornaments in stock, so I bought some,” he explains.

This ceasefire has improved the situation, but the war continues in other ways, depriving people of the assistance they need

Gabriel Romanelli, parish priest

Thus, the faithful were able to place a nativity scene and a tree in the church, next to the altar. “Each ornament on the tree has an intention. People placed them asking for prayers for the deceased, for peace, for the recovery of a house…” explains Romanelli.

The menu for December 24 will be qidreh, a typical Palestinian dish made with rice, chickpeas, and meat. In this case, chicken will replace the traditional lamb. It will be cooked communally and distributed among the parishioners who live together in the parish complex, which consists of three small buildings. “It’s a simple dish, but we haven’t eaten it for a long time because there hasn’t been any meat of any kind in Gaza for months. It’s usually served with yogurt, but this time I think it will be without yogurt,” explains Antone.

At the Christmas Eve evening mass there will be seven first communions and the baptism of little Marco, the youngest Catholic in Gaza, who was born in the parish two months ago.

For weeks, Antone has also been trying to buy toys. Anything. A stuffed animal, a ball, a toy car. “But I couldn’t find anything. It’s merchandise that isn’t allowed into Gaza right now. I brought chocolates and cookies, and we’re making little bags for each child, so they have a small gift,” she explains.

A small chocolate bar costs about $3.50 in Gaza right now. “The vast majority of people can’t afford them,” says Antone, explaining that they have received support from the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem, the diocese for Eastern Christians. “After Mass, we’ll serve coffee to the adults and give a sweet to the children,” explains Romanelli. “On the 25th, the children will gather around the Nativity scene, we’ll bake a cake, and that’s where they’ll receive their gift,” he adds.

This has nothing to do with the idea of Christmas that people have in their heads

Nisrin Antone, Gazan Catholic

But Christmas Eve won’t be a quiet night. None are in Gaza. The parish is a kilometer from the so-called Yellow Line, a recently created Israeli demarcation that keeps its troops on the other side. Currently, the Israeli army occupies about 50% of the Gaza Strip. Every day, gunfire and explosions are heard in the parish, and plumes of smoke rise from the sky. “The other night we had to take in several injured neighbors whose shelters burned down after being hit by shells,” explains Antone. “This has nothing to do with the idea of Christmas that people have in their heads. It’s strange to talk about Christmas in this context, although perhaps our celebration makes much more sense this way,” he muses.

Food for 5,000 families

In addition to the 400 Christians who have taken refuge in the Catholic church, another 200 have sought shelter in the Orthodox church of Saint Porphyry, located a few meters away. Since October 2023, approximately 50 Christians have died in Gaza, about 20 of them violently: 17 in a bombing of the Orthodox church in October 2023 and two women shot by Israeli soldiers in the Catholic parish. Around 300 Christians managed to leave the Gaza Strip when it was still possible to escape through the south.

Amid the misery and grief sweeping the Strip, these Christians know they are fortunate. They chose not to relocate and to protect the church, and they have managed to remain there since October 2023. Their hardships have been extreme during this time, but thanks to the assistance of the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem, they received several shipments of food that helped them and thousands of neighbors in the Al Zeitoun neighborhood, where the church is located. Recently, they were able to do so again, distributing eggs and a chicken to 5,000 families thanks to the support they received.

“If each family has five or six members, we’re talking about some 27,000 people. A million people live in this city, so it’s a tiny bit of help, a drop in the ocean. But as Mother Teresa of Calcutta said, the ocean would be less without that drop,” says Romanelli.

This week they also visited each and every one of the sick and elderly people in the parish. “We went with the children and young people, we sang with them, we brought them comfort and sweets so they would feel that it is Christmas,” the parish priest explains.

Meanwhile, classes continue within the parish. Before the war, 2,250 students attended the three Catholic schools in Gaza. Today, 160 children and young people continue their education at the church thanks to teachers who are also under lockdown.

We have no intention of being cloistered; we want people to be able to start a life outside because being all locked up here isn’t ideal, but people are very limited by the destruction ravaging Gaza

Gabriel Romanelli

The ceasefire hasn’t dismantled the strict organization that has helped the community survive these past two years. There are groups that manage food and its preparation, cleaning, care for the elderly and sick, education, and other tasks. Rations and food quantities are carefully controlled, and the idea is to have reserves in case of emergencies. “Nobody knows if the war will return or not. Those stored foods and supplies saved us at the beginning of this war,” Romanelli recalls.

Before October 2023, when Hamas, the Islamist movement that de facto ruled Gaza, perpetrated bloody attacks in Israel, Christians had gathered mattresses, blankets, batteries, and non-perishable food in an ever-unstable and violent Gaza, though they never imagined that the church would become a refuge for so many people for so long.

Since the ceasefire came into effect in October, some 80 people have left the parish to live in what remains of their homes or in tents, but almost all of them return to wash clothes, charge their phones, or even just rest. “We have no intention of being cloistered; we want people to be able to start a life outside because being all locked up here isn’t ideal, but people are very limited by the destruction ravaging Gaza. They don’t know what’s going to happen, and besides, the bombings continue,” the parish priest concludes.

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