“I’m fine, but all hell broke loose.”

That was the message that flashed across my screen at 3:31 a.m. on Saturday, October 7, 2023 – from my childhood best friend.

Bleary-eyed and half-asleep, I began scrolling through a flood of messages from friends and loved ones in Israel. What I saw next shook me to my core.

The first images from that black Saturday began to load: a truck bed crowded with armed terrorists, Naama Levy being dragged into Gaza, scenes of horror and devastation from the Nova music festival. Waves of confusion, fear, and disbelief crashed over me as I tried to comprehend what I was seeing.

At the time, I anticipated a swift return to the familiar rhythm of sirens, rocket fire, and the daily resilience of Israeli life, but the depth of cruelty and evil perpetrated by Hamas had yet to fully sink in.

The scene at the soccer field where a rocket crashed in Majdal Shams, July 27, 2024.
The scene at the soccer field where a rocket crashed in Majdal Shams, July 27, 2024. (credit: MDA Operational Documentation)

Almost 700 days

Today, almost 700 days later, I continue to grieve. Fifty hostages remain in Hamas’s terror tunnels. Twelve Druze children from Majdal Shams were murdered by Hezbollah. The IRGC continues to launch rockets at civilian infrastructure.

This hatred isn’t confined to the region – it has spread across communities and campuses in the United States. I recoil at the visceral hatred seen at Columbia’s encampments, at the Nazi salutes in the streets of Chicago, and at the recent murders in Washington DC and Boulder.

As a Christian working in the Israel advocacy space, this has become my daily reality: to love so deeply that it hurts, to mourn for a people and a nation under attack, and to feel isolated as antisemitism grows more blatant and, alarmingly, more normalized.

In conversations with friends and colleagues – both Jewish and Christian – there is a shared sense of loneliness as we continue to stand with Israel and the Jewish people.

Yet, even amid chaos and darkness, there is light. That light continues to grow – proof that we are not alone.
In early June, I joined a bus of seminary and Christian college students on a trip to Israel – part of the largest group Passages has sent since October 7.

Over the course of 10 days, I witnessed students profoundly transformed. They arrived filled with questions, skepticism, anticipation, and curiosity – ready to encounter a land that felt at once foreign and strangely familiar.

Exploring Bible events

Together, we explored where the Bible events took place. We sang in ancient cisterns and read Scripture in the very places it was written. There were moments of tenderness and awe at holy sites – but also moments of painful confrontation. Amid Israel’s beauty and resilience, there was a raw awareness of the trauma the nation continues to carry.

We visited the devastated community of Nahal Oz, listened to survivors share their stories, and shared a Shabbat dinner with a survivor of the Nova massacre. For many students, this was their first direct encounter with the reality of October 7. They allowed themselves to sit in grief, to mourn with a people they had only just begun to know, and to wrestle with deep, existential questions.

It was astounding to witness head knowledge become heart knowledge. As relationships formed and bonds deepened, students danced with children in the North, pulled weeds from the soil, and cultivated a new love for the Jewish people and the Land of Israel.

Before returning home, students shared how they had been challenged in unexpected ways.

Many expressed a desire to explore Jewish literature, to learn from scholars about the Hebraic roots of their faith, to better understand and engage with their Jewish neighbors, and to boldly speak out against antisemitism and misinformation. What began as a trip became a foundation – built on deepened faith and newfound friendships – that opened the door to a new way of living and loving.

Gathering to pray

Now, in the face of renewed push to defeat Hamas and ensure that October 7 can never happen again, these students are gathering to pray for the safety of their Israeli friends, sharing what they’ve learned with their churches, and advocating for truth. They crave knowledge, community, and the tools to stand for justice.

In what feels like one of history’s darkest hours, I am reminded of the life-changing power of a trip to Israel. Experiencing the land firsthand – engaging in real-time conversations, and bearing witness to daily life – fosters transformation. It strengthens faith, breaks down barriers, and cultivates genuine friendships between Christians and the Jewish community.

When we come with a sincere desire to learn, we are empowered to go and tell  – to speak boldly and compassionately about the truth, the beauty, and the resilience of Israel and her people.

So, to those wondering what to do next: Come and see. Walk the land. Listen to the stories. Let your heart be moved. And then – go and tell. Share what you’ve seen. Stand with courage. Be a bridge in your community. And let the light you’ve encountered be a light you carry.

The writer is the associate director of alumni engagement at Passages Israel, a Christian organization dedicated to bringing students to Israel and equipping young leaders to support Israel and stand with the Jewish people in communities across the United States.