I recently returned from a pilgrimage with the British Association of the Order of Malta to the Holy Land. Our visits to the holy places reminded us all of the story of the life of Our Lord. But it was a visit to the Hospital of the Holy Family run by the Order in Bethlehem – founded in 1895 and just a short distance from the Nativity grotto – that was especially moving. In 1985 the hospital, which had been run by the Sisters of Charity, was closed down due to the Arab/Israeli conflict. Pope John Paul II asked the then Grand Master, Fra’ Andrew Bertie, to take it on, and a new chapter began in the 900-year history of the Knights Hospitaller. The buildings were refurbished as a modern maternity hospital and in January 2023 it expects to reach the milestone of the birth of 100,000 babies.
The principles of health care of our first ancient hospital in Jerusalem are being carried out centuries later in Bethlehem. Since Palestine has no national health system, patients are asked to pay what they can afford. For those lacking funds, charges can simply be waived. We witnessed the presence of God’s loving mercy in its wards and corridors, and a moment of pure joy when a Palestinian midwife brought out a two-week-old baby wearing a tiny white cotton hat embroidered with an eight pointed red cross of Malta.
I recalled the words of Isaiah from the first reading of Midnight Mass: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; on those who walk in the shadow of death a new light has dawned”. Many of the people of Palestine walk in the shadow of death and are worn down and exhausted by their poverty, but the light shone by the work of Holy Family Hospital witnesses to the sacredness of human life as each new child – whatever the circumstances in which they are born – brings new hope for the future.
Here was a hospital for mothers and their children whose sole purpose was the unconditional preservation of life. The infant fatality rate is, almost miraculously, less than 1 per cent. They even provide a mobile clinic that travels into the desert to serve Bedouin women. We met the inspiring Ambassador of the Order to Palestine, Michelle Bowe, who travels from her home in Washington, DC, each month. She spoke of the daily miracles she witnessed; it became very clear that the miracle was life itself: “I have come to bring you life and life in abundance.” The fight for life of the new born child fills parents and their community with new hope, guided by the star of Bethlehem in the place where every day is a form of Christmas Day.
Christmas highlights the difference between a commercially-prepared superficial happiness and simple joy. Starting in late October, by Christmas Eve it is exhausted. Happiness is often temporary and mostly depends on our choices and feelings. Joy, however, is like the deep sea; ever present, it comes as a consequence of accepting a gift given, and which never dries up. It is a form of companionship and an inner strength that gives comfort. It is a presence that is gentle, and as we journey through life it is the assurance that we are never alone. I rejoice, for I have accepted and taken to heart that which will never leave me. This is the joy of Christmas where the gift given is our Saviour, born that we might live. We rejoice with Our Lady, for the Almighty has done great things for us.
In his book Surprised by Joy, CS Lewis indicated the truth that joy will often come upon us when we least expect it. When I was at Walsingham, as rector of the National Shrine, I often celebrated Mass in a prison on Christmas Day. On my first visit, I did not know what to expect. When I arrived at the chapel (where the Herald is read, thanks to the prison chaplain receiving copies) about 50 men were waiting for Mass. Before Mass started I asked them to think what would be the best gift they could give to their family that money could not buy, and asked them to write it down. I then invited them to bring their notes up at the Offertory, and we all sang “Silent Night”. I have been bless-ed in my life with many moments of grace, but few have been so moving as the singing of this beautiful carol inside those prison walls.
Again I was surprised by joy, for wherever we follow the Star of Bethlehem and wherever it leads us: to a prison or a hospital, or simply to time spent with our families and communities, we are “the people who walked in darkness [and] have seen a great light”. A joyful Advent and Christmas to you all.
Areas of Catholic Herald business are still recovering post-pandemic.
However, we are reaching out to the Catholic community and readership, that has been so loyal to the Catholic Herald. Please join us on our 135 year mission by supporting us.
We are raising £250,000 to safeguard the Herald as a world-leading voice in Catholic journalism and teaching.
We have been a bold and influential voice in the church since 1888, standing up for traditional Catholic culture and values. Please consider donating.