Rachael Weeps

Editor’s Note: For many Christian traditions, the season of Epiphany begins on January 6 and ends on the first day of Lent. 

One of the benefits of growing up a Latine child in the U.S. is that we get presents twice during the Christmas season. Like everyone else, we get gifts on December 25th when Santa visits. But on January 6th, El Dia de Los Reyes (Epiphany Day), we also get gifts when the Three Kings visit. Just as the three wise men brought presents to Jesús, so do they bring good Latine children presents.

Late to witness the birth of Jesús, the Magi showed up twelve days after finally stopping to ask directions from King Herod. Centuries later, in preparation for their arrival, we would go outside and cut grass, place it in three bundles along with a bucket of water, and leave it in front of the house for the camels to eat and drink.

The joy the three kings’ initial visit signified soon turned to grief. The hope they came to celebrate became hopelessness for the ordinary parents of Palestine who witnessed the murder of their children. The Jewish king Herod, reviled by the Hebrews of his time for his allegiance with the colonizing power of Rome, feared having his authority challenged.

To hold on to power, Herod sought Jesús’ death by having all the children of Bethlehem slaughtered. Reading the messianic story into the New Testament, Jeremiah 31:15 was soon interpreted as a prophecy foretelling the massacre conducted by Herod.And the Lord thus says:

  “A cry is heard on high (ramah),
  Mourning and bitterly weeping.
  Rachael is lamenting her children;
  Refusing to be comforted for her children,
  For they are no more.”

Rachael, as we know, was Jacob’s favorite of two wives. While traveling, she went into labor with her second child, a difficult birth that led to her death. She “was buried on the way to Ephrath, which is Bethlehem” (Gen 35:19-20). Her child Benjamin survived. Jeremiah would see Rachael as the symbolic mother of the southern kingdom, mainly because Jerusalem is where the tribe of Benjamin settled.

When I was in Bethlehem, I decided to walk to Rachael’s tomb, which was once a ten-minute walk. Unfortunately, my path was blocked by the Israeli West Bank Wall. According to the Bible, Rachael’s tomb is in Bethlehem. But the Apartheid Wall separating Palestinians from ever achieving self-determination obstructed my path.

On September 11, 2002, the Israeli security cabinet decided, with no input from Palestinians, to incorporate Rachael’s tomb on the Israeli side of the wall, claiming the area to be part of Jerusalem. This destroyed the Qubbet Rahil neighborhood, which once comprised over a tenth of metropolitan Bethlehem.

Thanks to the power that comes with a U.S. passport, I knew no wall could prevent me from visiting Rachael’s tomb, a privilege denied to many who live in the city where she was buried. But even with the ability to traverse concrete barriers, the trek was not easy and took several attempts over several days.

I first had to go through checkpoint 300, between Bethlehem and Israel. I arrived in the afternoon to avoid several thousand laborers who wait hours to cross the checkpoint. They start lining up at 4 am to get to work by 8 am, where their labor, but not their bodies, is in demand. 

Going through the checkpoint was reminiscent of traversing a prison complex. Once I entered the compound, I walked through a long, poorly lit terminal to a screening machine, akin to what you find in airports. 

I placed my backpack on the conveyor belt and walked through a body scan. I then went through another turnstile to reach a passport control booth. There, I was waved through by what appeared to be a teenager with a high-power assault rifle.

Once I left the complex on the Israeli side, I approached a yellow security gate that I must pass to visit Rachael’s tomb. I was turned away twice. 

On my third attempt, I was permitted entry after showing my passport again and explaining how, as an evangelical Christian, I had come to pay homage to Mother Rachael. (This was ethics “para joder” in action). 

For about a mile, I walked along the Separation Wall until I made it to the tomb which faces the wall. Concrete walls and watchtowers surround Rachael’s final resting place. There are two entrances, one for men and one for women. 

Going to the men’s entrance, I entered a space where pious devotees recite prayers. I paid my respects and left.

Today, four millennia after her death, Rachael continues to weep for her children, who are no more. Today, there is again a new Jewish king— Netanyahu—on the throne who, like Herod before him, is also despised by many Israelis. 

Fearing a challenge to his power, he, too, has ordered a revenge-based slaughter of the innocent —including children. Thus far, over 9,600 children (22,835 total) have been killed—more than what Herod murdered. 

As long as there is war, attention is diverted from Netanyahu’s political corruption. And just as the empire supported Herod, Netanyahu represents settler colonialism, which benefits the New Rome.

Israeli propaganda has been successful in creating the misconception that any criticism of a secular state, any criticism of Zionist policies responsible for previous terrorist attacks against Palestinians, is equivalent to antisemitism. 

But to recognize the horrors Jews have experienced at the hands of Christians for centuries is to stand with these victims and loudly scream, “Never again!” 

“Never again” honors the millions of Jews killed through genocide and the millions—if not billions— of non-Jews throughout history who also faced a similar fate due to colonialism.  

Never again means: 

All holocausts comprised of systematically killing children must end;
All killings for the sake of colonial ventures must end;
All terrorist attacks (what Hamas did on October 7 and what Israel is doing now) must end;
All forms of dehumanizing opponents (antisemitism, Islamophobia, and anti-Palestinian) on either side of the conflict to justify wanton torture and killings must end;
All who are held in captivity on either side against their will, without being charged, and without due process must end. 

So, this year, as I, still a child at heart, gleefully collect my three piles of grass in anticipation of gifts, I must pause and hear the cry caused by Rachael’s anguish. 

And if there is anything that the reason for the season should teach us, it is that we, too, must weep—for the sake of our faith and our humanity— with Rachael.