Christmas Emptiness

Emptiness. Manger Square, Bethlehem, December 23, 2023, is abandoned.  Most years, every square meter of the space would be filled, maneuvering among the crowd, difficult. Christian Palestinians in Bethlehem, in solidarity with those in Gaza, have canceled Christmas. The Lutheran pastor says, “if Jesus were born today, it would be under the rubble of Gaza.”  And nearby, among Israelis, the horror and grief of October 6 when families were ripped apart, children murdered, women raped, and hostages taken, and who even now are being tortured persists and widens.

Israelis and Palestinians deserve better. Still, decades long pent-up anger and distrust has erupted in an unimagined violence. Slow boiling political chicanery, terrorism, and bigotries mostly built on lies and prejudices now rob the people on all sides of options. Emptiness. No room left for rational thought or basic humanity.

No room left for recognition of another as a human being. Robbed by millions of deceits, papercuts on the soul, there is no space for mutuality, companionship, or love. The prefrontal cortex is severed from the reptilian parts of the brain. A single option appears the only one — revenge, revenge, revenge.  Empty of alternatives, life on all sides is reduced to terror. 

For those of us, observers with broken hearts and conflicted loves, there is another kind of emptiness. Those who know, respect, and love both Jews and Palestinians, live in a wasteland of uninhabited hope. Our carefully crafted dreams and visions for humanity are shattered. And what of our own bigotries and behaviors? What of the ways we discount and exclude those we fear? What of our treatment of those without shelter, who struggle with addictions or who come to us as immigrant?

We suffer with a similar, yet a differing void.  For so many Christians, the mangers of our souls will seem vacant, emptied places this Christmas.