Where I Stand — Mike O’Callaghan: One unforgettable Christmas Eve amid rioting in Bethlehem

Friday, Dec. 25, 1998 | 10:26 a.m.

On a rainswept Christmas Eve 11 years ago, four Americans named Mike journeyed from Jerusalem to Bethlehem to attend midnight Mass at St. Catherine's Church on Manger Square. Riots and threats of terrorist activity made for a difficult trip through numerous Israeli checkpoints. This Christmas Eve the prospect of peace in the Mideast is both tantalizingly close and potentially still far away. Riots and threats of terrorist activity still are a fact of life in the Mideast, reminding Executive Editor Mike O'Callaghan of that Christmas Eve in l987 and of the hope and faith attendance at that Mass inspired. Below is his column about that experience, reprinted from the Sun of Jan. 5, l988.

ain was coming down in windswept sheets as we awaited a bus in Jerusalem to take us to Bethlehem on Christmas Eve. Sun cartoonist Mike Smith, my eldest son, Mike, and I kept looking at our watches as the 7:30 bus failed to appear.

Earlier in the day we had left our three-week work program at an Israel Defense Force base near the ancient city of Ashkelon. The skies were already open and pouring rain as we waited more than an hour for a bus to Jerusalem. Our program director, Sgt. Maj. Michael Allouche, recognizing the importance of Christmas to the four Christians working in camp, made certain we wouldn't miss being in Bethlehem that night. In addition to us, there was Michael Slota, a Christian from New York working as a Volunteer for Israel.

During a previous visit to the Old City of Jerusalem we were given passes to Manger Square and a Midnight Mass to be held at St. Catherine's Church. The Pilgrims Office of the Franciscan Fathers gave me entrance cards to the small door of the Basilica of the Nativity; the cards then allowed us to enter St. Catherine's for the three-hour celebration.

Heavy rains and several riots, along with threatened terrorist activity, guaranteed a smaller than usual gathering in Manger Square; however, the church was full -- despite a grim warning from the U.S. State Department that travelers should be advised their safety could be threatened. The warning came because some people in Washington were trying to pressure Israel and show their displeasure with how the little country had strongly responded to stoning, knifing and petrol bomb attacks on soldiers and citizens.

The afternoon before Christmas the retiring Latin Patriarch, Giacomo Beltritti, led the traditional walk from the Old City of Jerusalem, where Christ had died, to Bethlehem, the place he was born. The religious traditions were carried out, despite the weather and outside pressures. Bethlehem's Mayor Elias Freij and several Israeli military men were present to greet the patriarch. However, the mayor canceled his usual hosting of military and political figures following the religious celebration. His Palestinian constituents had pressured him to cancel the annual affair.

That was the setting of Christmas Eve 1987 in Bethlehem. The falling rain continued to splatter up from the stone sidewalks of Jerusalem when our bus arrived at almost 9 p.m. The short ride to Bethlehem followed and we left the bus and entered a large building to have all carried bags and cameras checked by trained security people. Several pilgrims carried cameras, despite a prior warning by officials.

Following that check, we entered another bus for a ride to Manger Square. Along the bus route Israeli soldiers on patrol in the heavy rain waved us along. Two weeks earlier this writer had talked to several young soldiers of the Golani Brigade as they prepared to take their oath before the Western Wall (Wailing Wall) in the Old City. On Christmas Eve, those same youngsters, carrying automatic weapons, were soaking wet as they made safe a sacred trip for hundreds of Christian pilgrims. Less than 48 hours had passed since the soldiers had lighted the eighth candle on a menorah to complete Hanukkah.

We left the bus and walked up a hill to Manger Square, where again we stood in the rain to be screened before entering. We could hear the singing of the several foreign choirs in attendance. A blond, blue-eyed, Israeli soldier smiled and returned by greeting of "shalom." Here, I thought, is a Jewish youngster, barely 18 years of age, making the dream of an Irish-American Catholic possible.

By then completely soaked, we were again checked as we went from Manger Square into the courtyard by the Basilica of the Nativity. Then we ducked our heads as we entered the small entrance of the Basilica to be guided by church security people to St. Catherine's. It was 10 o'clock as we entered the church, where all sitting accommodations had been removed so more people could attend.

Almost an hour later the choir began singing "Adeste Fideles" and "Puer Natus"; then there were readings and other songs in several languages by the Franciscan Fathers. The diplomatic corps and Israeli military officials then entered, followed by the Mass celebrants. The Mass, in Latin, brought back memories of a quality and quantity seldom experienced by this writer. Quietly moving among the crowd were a few Israeli security people, dressed in civilian clothes. Their presence was appreciated but, as it turned out, because of prior screening they were not needed.

After Mass we followed the celebrants and entered the Grotto of the Nativity, where Christ was born almost 2,000 years ago. Even my wet clothes felt warm as we crowded down the steps for the final prayers of the night.

Outside the rain kept falling and Manger Square was almost empty; it was a little after two o'clock that morning. The young soldiers were still on the rooftops and along the streets as we walked back to our bus.

It was 3:30 a.m. when we returned to our beds in Jerusalem. Christmas 1987 was one that three Mikes will never forget.