On a recent morning atop Mount Tabor, as the sun began to rise over the rolling hills of northern Israel, a group of Catholic pilgrims gathered to celebrate the feast of the Transfiguration. Their voices, lifted in prayer and song, echoed through the ancient landscape—a powerful testament to resilience in the face of mounting adversity. For many Christians in Israel, these moments of faith are both a refuge and a statement of identity, especially as they navigate an environment marked by rising harassment and uncertainty.
According to the Associated Press, Christians now make up less than 2% of Israel’s population, and their visible expressions of faith have increasingly drawn unwanted attention. Sister Mayela, a Mexican nun who has lived in Jerusalem for more than twenty years, now walks the city’s storied streets accompanied by a Jewish volunteer for protection. “I’m scared after the sister was beat up,” she admitted, recalling the violent attack on another Catholic nun in Jerusalem’s Old City this past April. “Before, one could live with more confidence. Some people spat, some said hi. Now we have to live trusting in God.”
Harassment incidents against Christians have surged since the Hamas-led attack on October 7, 2023—an event that plunged the region into renewed conflict and polarization. The Religious Freedom Data Center, founded by Jewish Israeli educator Yisca Harani, has tracked a near-tripling of anti-Christian incidents in Jerusalem compared to four years ago. Now, the city averages about one such incident per day, with most cases attributed to Jewish religious nationalists. Harani, who often escorts nuns like Sister Mayela, is determined to protect coexistence: “I don’t want Christians to go out of their house in Jerusalem … and have fear. I’ve gone through this 2,000 years in my Jewish history. I’m not going to let that happen.”
The attack on the nun in April was not an isolated incident. Around the same time, two Israeli soldiers were sentenced to military prison for desecrating Christian symbols—one for smashing a crucifix in a family garden, another for placing a cigarette in the mouth of a Virgin Mary statue in southern Lebanon. These acts drew swift condemnation and, according to Ambassador George Deek, Israel’s new envoy to the Christian world, also prompted official outreach to Christian leaders. “We believe that every incident against Christians is immoral, illegal and should be prosecuted. That’s exactly what we are going to do,” Deek told the Associated Press. “We want to make sure that Israel continues to prosper and grow as a place where Christians can not only survive, but they can thrive.”
Despite these assurances, many Christians feel that the state’s protection is insufficient—especially in northern Israel and the occupied West Bank, where most local Christians are Palestinian. In the village of Taybeh, the last entirely Christian village in the West Bank, residents have faced repeated attacks by Jewish settlers, who have destroyed gardens and cut through fences. The Israeli army recently declared Taybeh a closed military zone in an attempt to curb these attacks, but skepticism remains. “All the people here are afraid,” said the Rev. Bashar Fawadleh, parish priest of Christ the Redeemer Catholic Church. “Settlers come and go every day.”
These tensions are not limited to physical confrontations. The broader context, as highlighted by the Financial Times in its August 14, 2026, article "The exodus from Israel," points to a growing trend of emigration. Rising insecurity and persistent social challenges are driving not just Christians, but many Israelis, to reconsider their future in the country. The feeling of vulnerability is palpable, and it’s changing the fabric of Israeli society.
Amid these challenges, interfaith efforts continue—though not without setbacks. The Rev. Alberto Pari, secretary to the Custody of the Holy Land and a leader in interfaith dialogue, noted, “If you stroll around in your habit, sooner or later you’ll get some spitting next to you. But it’s important not to generalize, because that unleashes antisemitism.” Pari’s commitment to bridge-building was tested recently when his interfaith music institute, Magnificat, was invited to perform at a peace march in Jerusalem. When Palestinian members saw the stage flanked by Israeli flags, they refused to play. “I felt a real failure,” Pari confessed. “We think that as Christians, we have a very important role to patch things back together. ... It will be difficult, but we can do it.”
These stories of tension and resilience are unfolding against the backdrop of an approaching Israeli election—a moment that, according to a recent opinion piece published by the Jerusalem Center for Security and Foreign Affairs, demands a deeper reckoning. The author argues that Israel must ask itself not just who should lead, but what kind of society it wants to become. Citing the October 7 attack as a pivotal event that shook public confidence in institutions, the piece calls for a new focus on resilience—not just militarily, but psychologically and socially. “Resilience is itself a strategic capability,” the article asserts, urging Israelis to learn from adversaries like Iran, who have survived decades of isolation and setbacks by adapting and rebuilding.
“Our resilience must be democratic rather than authoritarian,” the strategist writes. “It must come from trust rather than fear, social cohesion rather than coercion, education rather than indoctrination, and shared purpose rather than enforced conformity.” The opinion piece suggests that resilience should be woven into every aspect of Israeli life—from schools and national service to government and the country’s relationship with Diaspora Jewry. The ultimate challenge, it argues, is for Israelis to learn to live with uncertainty without allowing it to destroy their faith in one another.
For Christians like John Akleh, a 20-year-old pilgrim from Nazareth, holding onto faith and identity in the face of adversity is a daily act of courage. “It’s very difficult that we keep our identity as Christians in the Middle East, but it’s the most important,” he said. The pilgrimage to Mount Tabor, which began at 4:15 a.m. and was led by the Rev. Fadi Shallufi, is a tradition that persists even in wartime. Addressing the group at the mountaintop basilica, Shallufi offered a message of hope: “We will have a lot of sacrifice, but you will be sure in this land something will change.”
As Israel grapples with external threats, internal divisions, and the realities of a changing society, the stories of its Christian minority offer both a warning and a beacon. Their resilience, rooted in faith and bolstered by unlikely allies, suggests that the true strength of a nation may lie not only in its ability to confront adversity, but in its willingness to protect the vulnerable and foster coexistence—even when the world seems determined to pull it apart.