For a third year in a row, Christmas is arriving in Gaza not with bells and lights but with silence and grief, as a battered community struggles to endure while clinging to hopes that the future will be brighter.
Once a season of song and shared celebration in the Palestinian territory, the holiday has become another reminder of what the war has taken – lives, homes and any sense of safety.
Yet many hope for a future in which the holiday can return to what it once was.
Inside the few remaining churches in Gaza, where Israeli forces have killed more than 70,000 Palestinians since the Hamas attacks in October 2023, preparations are under way. Despite the ceasefire this year, traditional rituals are stripped down to their barest form: prayer, mass and quiet reflection, with no decorations and no outdoor ceremonies.
For George Anton, director of operations for the Latin Patriarchate in Gaza, the decision is both painful and inevitable. “For the third consecutive year, Christmas arrives while Gaza lives in extremely tragic and difficult conditions,” he told The National. “Even though large-scale military operations have paused, the war continues in many different ways.”
During the war, three Christian churches were bombed while sheltering displaced families, killing and injuring dozens.
“We cannot hold public celebrations,” Mr Anton explained. “This year, Christmas in Gaza will be limited to mass and prayers. It is a gesture of respect for the martyrs and for the suffering of our people.”
-
Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, greets children during a pastoral visit to the Holy Family parish in Gaza city on Friday. AFP -
Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, at the Holy Family parish in Gaza city. He is in Gaza for Christmas Mass with the faithful of the Palestinian territory's only Roman Catholic church. AFP -
Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem in the red cap, prays with Auxilliary Bishop of the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem William Shomali during a pastoral visit to the Holy Family parish in Gaza city. AFP -
Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa , Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, greets people during a pastoral visit to the Holy Family parish in Gaza city. AFP -
A man performs 'baciamano', kissing the Episcopal ring of Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, during a pastoral visit to the Holy Family parish in Gaza city. AFP -
Auxilliary bishop of the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem, William Shomali, centre, is greeted by a child during the pastoral visit to the Holy Family parish in Gaza city. AFP -
A girl at the Holy Family parish in Gaza city. AFP
Before the war, churches glowed with lights, carols filled the courtyards, and families gathered beneath tall Christmas trees. Today, only the inner halls will hold small ceremonies.
The Christian population, once numbering around 1,000, has dwindled to only a few hundred. Many fled the war. Others were displaced into the very churches they once visited only for worship. Now, those churches provide them shelter, food and blankets.
For Edward Antoine, 40, the holiday has become inseparable from personal tragedy. “We are preparing to observe Christmas without decorations or celebrations,” he told The National. “The wound is still deep.”
He lost both his mother and sister when, he says, an Israeli sniper took their lives. “I live with an immeasurable tragedy,” he stated. “I don’t think I will ever celebrate Christmas again after losing them. The calamity that befell our family cannot be overcome.”
Inside a dimly lit church hall in Gaza city, Maryam Terzi, 12, watches volunteers arrange chairs for mass. Her memories of Christmas are filled with colour, lights, song, friends and gifts.
"Before the war, we bought toys and decorations, lit the Christmas tree and visited friends," she said. "Now there are no visits. The war took our friends. Many left Gaza. Some were killed. What I wish for most is for the joy of Christmas to return, so we can celebrate like before.”
Still, she hopes for a future where the holiday can return to what it once was. “Everything used to be beautiful,” she said. “The war and Israel took all that happiness from us." But, for her, the coming years will be better. "I hope we can be happy again. I hope life returns. I hope we can light the Christmas tree.”
