Christmas has returned to Bethlehem, and with it, the city’s ancient streets have once again filled with the sounds of bagpipes, the shimmer of festive lights, and the hope that comes with tradition—though this year, the celebrations unfolded under the weight of a fragile peace and a landscape forever altered by conflict. After a two-year hiatus caused by the devastating war in Gaza, Bethlehem’s Christmas festivities resumed on December 25, 2025, drawing hundreds of worshippers, residents, and foreign pilgrims eager to reclaim a sense of normalcy in the birthplace of Jesus.
For many, the return of the celebrations was both a relief and a poignant reminder of the region’s hardships. Manger Square, the city’s symbolic heart, echoed with the music of Palestinian scouts parading in crisp uniforms, their drums and bagpipes blending Christmas carols with traditional Palestinian songs. The large Christmas tree—adorned with red and gold ornaments—was lit once again in early December, casting a warm glow over the crowds that gathered to sing, pray, and remember.
“You feel that Christmas has truly arrived,” said 17-year-old Milagros Anstas, who wore the yellow and blue uniform of Bethlehem’s Salesian scout group, according to Agence France-Presse. “It’s a day full of joy, because before we couldn’t celebrate due to the war.” For many young people like Anstas, the festivities brought a sense of hope that transcended the hardships of recent years.
Yet, hope was tempered by the realities on the ground. The return of Christmas celebrations was only possible because of a fragile ceasefire that has held in Gaza for just over two months. Even as Bethlehem’s streets filled with music and laughter, the humanitarian crisis in Gaza remained acute. The Palestinian coastal enclave, home to 2.2 million people, continues to suffer from widespread destruction and displacement. Hundreds of thousands live in makeshift tents, exposed to the winter rains, and the overwhelming majority have lost nearly everything.
Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, returned from Gaza just before presiding over the traditional midnight Mass at the Church of the Nativity. In his homily, he spoke candidly about the suffering he witnessed. “Even in the midst of devastation, people find reasons for hope and rebuilding,” he told the congregation, as reported by local and international media. “The wounds are deep, yet I have to say, here too, there too, their proclamation of Christmas resounds. When I met them, I was struck by their strength and desire to start over.”
His words echoed through the pews, which were filled long before midnight, with many worshippers standing or sitting on the floor. The Church of the Nativity, built atop the grotto where Christians believe Jesus was born, became a beacon for those seeking solace and celebration alike. The midnight Mass, led by Cardinal Pizzaballa, was attended by around 1,500 people, including Palestinians and foreign visitors, though many faced long delays at Israeli military checkpoints surrounding the city. Several attendees spoke of the mixed emotions they felt—joy at the return of festivities, but sorrow for the continued suffering in Gaza and the West Bank.
The shadow of conflict loomed large over the celebrations. According to CNN and United Nations reports, 2025 saw more than 30,000 Palestinians forcibly displaced from their homes in the West Bank, marking the largest displacement since 1967. Violence persisted, with at least 233 Palestinians killed in the region, including 52 children, most by Israeli forces using live ammunition. The West Bank experienced record home demolitions and a dramatic expansion of Israeli settlements, which the international community widely regards as illegal under international law. In December, the Israeli government approved the legalization of 19 settler outposts and announced plans for 22 new settlements—the largest expansion in more than three decades.
These developments have deepened the sense of siege felt by many Palestinians. Mustafa Barghouti, a Palestinian politician, told CNN, “The West Bank is completely under siege. Israel has blocked the roads. Of course many people couldn’t come. … Many people cannot afford to come, and many people find great difficulty moving from one place to another.” Indeed, the attendance at Bethlehem’s celebrations, while spirited, was limited by these very restrictions.
Despite the obstacles, the spirit of Christmas in Bethlehem was one of resilience and steadfastness. Bethlehem Mayor Maher Canawati highlighted early signs of economic recovery for the city, whose economy depends almost entirely on religious tourism. Hotel occupancy rates, which had languished at around 25 percent for much of the year, rose sharply during the Christmas period. Local business owners expressed cautious optimism, noting that while the return of visitors was encouraging, full recovery would take time after years of losses from war and the COVID-19 pandemic.
For the Christian community in the Holy Land—numbering roughly 185,000 in Israel and 47,000 in the Palestinian Territories—these celebrations were more than a religious observance. They were a declaration of presence and perseverance in a region where Christians have become a minority. “In the Middle East, there are still Christians celebrating, and we maintain our traditions,” said 18-year-old Qatiab Amaya.
Elsewhere in the world, the call for peace resonated from the Vatican, where Pope Leo XIV delivered his first Christmas Mass at St. Peter’s Basilica. The American pontiff, elected in May after Pope Francis’s death, called for “24 hours of peace in the whole world.” While his homily focused on faith, charity, and hope, he also criticized a “distorted economy” that treats humans “as mere merchandise.”
Back in Bethlehem, the celebrations were capped by a vibrant parade down Star Street, with men dressed as Santa Claus selling toffee apples and toys, families posing for photographs in front of a nativity scene, and the city’s towering Christmas tree glittering beside the Church of the Nativity. As darkness fell, multi-colored lights illuminated Manger Square, and the air was thick with the sound of bells and laughter.
“We need to get the message to the whole world and this is the only way,” said George Hanna, a resident of nearby Beit Jala. “What is Christmas without celebrating?”
For Bethlehem, the return of Christmas was not just a holiday—it was a testament to faith, endurance, and the universal longing for peace in a time still marked by uncertainty and loss.
