Air raid sirens echo through Jerusalem’s narrow streets. Schools remain closed. Pilgrimage groups cancel their visits. Stations of the Cross prayed in a bunker. For many Christians in the Holy Land, the latest escalation between Israel and Iran has turned daily life into (yet another) test of endurance.
Iran’s retaliation strikes against Israel, along with rocket attacks launched from southern Lebanon by Hezbollah, have widened the conflict beyond Gaza and shaken communities across Israel and the Palestinian territories. Christian families — already living with economic hardship after months of war and the perpetual conflicts of this region — now face renewed insecurity and uncertainty.
Even still, George Akroush, director of the Development Office of the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem, says the current crisis feels different from previous conflicts.
“I try to pretend I’m not afraid in front of the children,” he said in an interview with Aid to the Church in Need (ACN). “But this has been the worst experience of my whole life.”
Akroush speaks from experience. He has lived through 14 wars in the region.
Life under sirens
In Jerusalem, residents live with the constant threat of rockets and the fragments of interceptor missiles fired to stop them. One recent barrage sent shrapnel falling over the Old City, home to churches, convents, and Christian institutions, including the Latin Patriarchate headquarters.
Further south, a missile strike in Beersheva damaged several apartments, including one belonging to a Christian family. In northern Israel, rockets launched from Lebanon have placed cities like Haifa and villages throughout the Galilee within range. Many of those communities, on both sides of the border, have long-standing Christian populations.
In Beirut, families have left their homes and set up tents on streets in a (hopefully) safer zone.
For families, the psychological toll is heavy. Parents try to remain calm in front of their children while sirens repeatedly interrupt ordinary routines.
Economic strain on Christian institutions
Beyond the immediate danger, the conflict is intensifying an already fragile economic situation.
Israeli authorities have closed border crossings between the West Bank and Israel, preventing many Palestinians from reaching their jobs. Before the October 7, 2023, Hamas attack, about 180,000 West Bank Palestinians held work permits in Israel. That number had already dropped to around 15,000. Now even those remaining permits have effectively become unusable.
The closures are especially damaging for Christian schools in Jerusalem.
“Forty percent of our teachers and support staff come from the West Bank on a daily basis,” Akroush explained. “Now even those have lost access to their livelihoods.”
Without them, maintaining the high educational standards of these institutions becomes increasingly difficult.
And Gaza?
The renewed regional conflict has also disrupted humanitarian efforts in Gaza.
According to Akroush, shipments of critical aid — including medicines, hospital supplies, and antibiotics — have been halted since the fighting with Iran intensified.
This has placed additional pressure on Gaza’s only Christian hospital, located near the Catholic parish compound where hundreds of people sought shelter during the war.
Church leaders had hoped to reopen a Christian school in Gaza, gradually welcoming up to 1,000 students. The plan is now uncertain.
“We were about to share that we decided to reopen the school,” Akroush said. “But with this war we are not sure whether we can stick to this plan.”
A small community holding on
Across the Holy Land, Christians are a small minority. Many rely on pilgrimage tourism for their livelihoods. As the conflict spreads, the prospect of a new wave of cancellations threatens hotels, guesthouses, and family businesses.
Yet Church leaders emphasize perseverance.
Latin Patriarch Pierbattista Pizzaballa has described the Church’s mission in these difficult years as similar to a jackhammer striking hard rock — slow, persistent work that eventually breaks through. For Akroush, that image captures the quiet resilience of Christian communities in the region.
“Each act of service, each job created, each child returning to school, and each family supported,” he said, “is another small break in the rock of despair.”
