Until the very last moment, it was unclear whether or not CSI's first pastors' trip to Israel could take place, given the current situation in the Middle East. But then it began, and 35 pastors, led by Dr. Tobias Krämer and Luca Hezel, traveled to the Holy Land in February – many of them for the first time. One participant recounts some impressive experiences and how the country and its people continually challenge our Western way of thinking.
By Lukas Eberhardt, pastor of the Evangelical Free Church of God in Hirsau (Calw)
I'm sitting on the plane, looking out the window. The sky is a brilliant blue, with a few white clouds. Behind me lie incredibly moving, fascinating, and inspiring days that have filled my heart with immense gratitude. Together with 35 pastors and church leaders, I had the privilege of traveling through Israel for eight days. Our group was led by a CSI team: Luca Hezel, Dr. Tobias Krämer, Dina D'Monte, and Talita Höhl.
When Tobias asked me on the last evening of the trip if I could write this report, I hesitated. How could I possibly express in words what I had seen and experienced over the past eight days? It seemed impossible. But I would try anyway. For out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.
On our first day after arriving, we visited Kibbutz Kfar Aza, which was devastated by Hamas terror on October 7, 2023. Paul, one of the Jewish residents, gave us a tour of the kibbutz. Many small houses stood side by side. Palm trees, a playground, a soccer field, and a swimming pool were visible. The sun was shining, and it was warm. And this was in February! Everything looked so peaceful. Paul told us that everyone knew everyone else here and that kibbutz festivals were celebrated regularly.
I feel like I've found a piece of heaven on earth. But the kibbutz is only a few kilometers from Gaza. Rocket fire has been a part of everyday life there for many years. I ask Paul how he would describe life in this place. He says, "95 percent heaven and five percent hell." Paul notices how surreal everything seems to us, so he says several times, "You think in a Western way." He's right. My Western way of thinking doesn't get me anywhere here.
"Children will play here again."
Then Paul tells us about October 7th, when the kibbutz, with its 950 inhabitants, was attacked by more than 300 terrorists. For almost every house we walk past, Paul can tell us the story of the people who lived there. The terrorists knew exactly how the kibbutz was laid out, how many people lived in which houses, where the dogs were kept, and so on.
In the Gaza Strip, replicas of the kibbutz, used for training purposes, were found. Palestinian guest workers from Gaza gathered this information; people who were trusted and who could support their families through their work at the kibbutz. Unbelievable. The terrorists killed everything they could and left a trail of devastation. The kibbutz is currently being rebuilt. Paul bids us farewell with the words: "Please come again. In two years, children will be playing and laughing here."
"Hate is not in our DNA"
Then we drive to the site of the Nova Festival. Surrounded by a few trees, numerous Israelis, most of them young adults, were celebrating a music festival. Hundreds of them were killed on October 7th. Today, the site is a memorial. In a tent nearby, a Jew, perhaps my age, sits copying a Torah scroll. On a poster in front of the tent, I read that this is a symbolic act, along the lines of: "Here you killed us, but we will not be defeated."
Later, we ask a middle-aged secular Jewish woman whether Israel has a problem with feelings of hatred and revenge—which would be to be expected. She hesitates briefly, because she has never thought about it before. Then she says: “That’s not part of our DNA. And we don’t want our children to grow up with hatred and revenge.” I am amazed and moved by the strength of this people.
In northern Israel, we meet Moshe, a Jew with Swiss roots. He lives with his wife and three children in a stunning house with a large garden, just a few kilometers from the Syrian and Jordanian borders. Moshe tells us how, after October 7th, he was afraid of a Hezbollah invasion. During that time, he kept a gun on his nightstand at night.
Moshe recounts his memories. After the fall of the Assad regime in 2024, Moshe's unit immediately received orders to capture several military bases just across the border to create a buffer zone. Without this buffer zone, Moshe and his neighbors would have had only seven minutes to escape to safety in the event of an attack—now they have at least half an hour.
Speaking in a Swiss dialect, Moshe recounts how they drove up the slope on the other side of the valley, not knowing what to expect. But the military bases were deserted. After the fall of the Assad regime, the soldiers had left behind their weapons and clothing. This made it easy to establish that buffer zone, yet the story is somehow absurd: In the morning, Moshe's unit received orders to capture the military bases. By 4 p.m., Moshe was back home, having coffee with his wife. I just find it crazy.
Afterwards, we had a wine tasting with Israeli wines in Moshe's garden. Just like in Kfar Aza, I felt a touch of heaven on earth. Everything is so close together: joy of life and war, beauty and destruction, and yet, in all of this, people like Moshe remain serene. As a German, I find that almost incomprehensible.
Following in the footsteps of Jesus
Israel is the land where Jesus ministered. A pilgrimage route dating back to Jesus' time was recently opened to the public in Jerusalem. The road was once about 30 meters wide and led up to the Temple. Along the way, one can still see the stalls where merchants offered their wares in Jesus' day. Unlike then, however, one no longer walks in the open air. Because the road runs beneath residential buildings, it has been covered by a tunnel approximately five meters wide.
So we now walk through this tunnel, ascending the cobblestones and steps that Jesus' feet once touched. If these stones could speak… At the end of the tunnel, where the daylight forces you to squint, I tilt my head back in amazement. Before me, I see a large retaining wall, marking the beginning of the area where the Jewish Temple once stood. Right next to the wall lie large stones, scattered haphazardly.
Our guide explains that the Romans destroyed the Temple in 70 AD and threw down these stones—stones from the Temple. And there they are now. Right in front of me. Stones from the Jewish Temple from the time of Jesus. I can hardly believe it.
I would love to tell you about exciting archaeological finds, such as the ancient City of David, Hezekiah's Tunnel, the synagogue in Magdala where Jesus probably preached, or the city of Hippo, today Susita, one of the cities of the Decapolis. It was somewhere around here that Jesus freed the demon-possessed man from Gerasen, whose demons had entered the pigs.
Besides the biblical sites, I could tell you about many encounters that touched me deeply. With Arje Sharuz Shalicar, press spokesman for the Israeli army during the Gaza War, David Nekrutman, Orthodox rabbi, Rena Quint, 91-year-old Holocaust survivor and scholar – so many remarkable personalities.
I would love to tell you about the beginning of Shabbat at the Western Wall, about Yad Vashem, the visit to the Jewish Agency and the Jewish National Fund, about Qumran, the Garden Tomb, and a wonderful concert given to us by the Messianic band Miqedem. But that would be too much. We experienced so much.
I hadn't expected the Jewish people to show me such love, despite my German past, a love I rarely experience from strangers. Israel is unique: the land, the people, the culture, the way of life. I will never forget this trip.
This article first appeared in our newspaper "Israelaktuell," issue 144. You can order the newspaper here . We would also be happy to send you several copies for distribution.
