Two lights in a dark time

This winter in Israel and the autonomous territories, two festivals of light coincide with a time characterized by exhaustion, mourning and cautious hope. Hanukkah and Christmas are being celebrated again. More quietly than before, less naturally, but more consciously. After more than two years of war, terror and regional escalation, a different light is shed on the holidays.

Hanukkah is a reminder of resistance and steadfastness. Of holding on to faith against overwhelming odds. Of a light that burns longer than humanly explainable. Christmas tells of hope and of a light that comes into the darkness. Jesus does not enter an ideal world, but a reality that has been torn apart. He does not start a comfortable new beginning, but brings light into the midst of fear, uncertainty and violence. In Israel, where Jewish and Christian life exist side by side, these two messages touch each other in a special way this year.

Hanukkah between everyday life and resilience

Hanukkah was celebrated in many places this year without big words. No loud celebrations, no pathos. Instead, small gestures in everyday life. Candles on windowsills, in community rooms, in hospitals, in places where war has left its mark. The light had less to do with joy than with steadfastness.

For many Israelis, Hanukkah has become an inner anchor since October 7. Not as a reminder of a historic victory, but as a conscious decision not to be paralyzed. The candles stand for continuity. For holding on to identity, even where security cannot be taken for granted. A quiet act against resignation.

Christmas with the handbrake on

Shortly afterwards, Bethlehem came back into focus. For the first time since the start of the Gaza war, a Christmas tree was once again lit in Manger Square. No crowds, no exuberant atmosphere. The celebration remained manageable, almost cautious. And that is precisely why it carried weight.

The mayor of the city spoke openly about the fact that it was not about a return to the old normality. It was about making hope visible. After years of pandemic, economic collapse and war, the population needs signs that point beyond mere survival. Hope is not a decoration, but a prerequisite for moving forward.

But this hope is subject to reservations. The Christian population in Bethlehem and the autonomous areas has been declining for years and the believers are under great pressure. Christmas is accepted by the Muslim majority, mainly because of its economic importance. Pilgrims bring income, tourism keeps businesses alive. This reality is openly acknowledged.

At the same time, the situation of the Christian community itself remains tense. Many families are fighting for prospects, for security, for the opportunity to stay at all. The festival brings light to the city of Bethlehem, but it does not solve the problems that local Christians have been facing for a long time.

Two festivals, one question

Hanukkah and Christmas don’t just touch each other on the calendar this year. Both tell of light under pressure. Of faith that does not triumph, but endures. In a region characterized by violence, exhaustion and political uncertainty, these celebrations cannot be taken for granted.

The fact that they are still celebrated, albeit more quietly, is not a sign of strength in the traditional sense. It is a sign of perseverance. And perhaps that is precisely why it is so powerful.

Prayer, hope and responsibility

During this time, our partners, communities and works in Israel and the autonomous territories continue to be under great pressure. They are working under difficult conditions. They are accompanying people who have become tired. They are sticking to their mission, the pressure is growing.

We believe that our prayers and firm faith can also move these mountains. It is a clinging to the light of our Lord: it shines all the brighter in the darkness. We have a hope that does not fade out, but carries us through hardship and distress. Hanukkah and Christmas remind us that light does not have to be loud to be effective.

The fact that candles are burning and Christmas lights are shining is not a matter of course this year. It is a silent testimony. And an invitation not to give up. Because God’s light remains. Even now.

These days I am often asked whether it is possible to travel to Israel again. The honest answer is: yes, you can. And what’s more, it’s a good time to go. Quieter and in many ways safer than in previous years.

Just yesterday, I stood on the border with Syria and looked into the vastness of the buffer zone. Where there used to be armies, militias and terrorist groups, there is now space. No more tongs, no more permanent threat scenario like in 2023 and the years before. They had to give way. Israel is no longer encircled. We can only be grateful for that. Thank God.

Especially in the face of wars, in the face of exploding anti-Semitism worldwide, a trip to Israel is more than just tourism. It is a sign. A conscious encouragement for the people here. For churches, for believers, for our partners and ministries who are under great pressure and yet continue to work faithfully. People who are light and salt, often in secret, often tired, but not resigned.

We need this encouragement. Israel needs it. The Christians here need it. The Jewish families who have not forgotten who stands by their side need it. The presence of brothers and sisters from abroad is not a political statement, but a spiritual one.

With this in mind, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from Israel (This article was first published at amzi.org)