Reflections on Kibbutz Kfar Aza
In July 2024, I sat with a group of college-age young adults on a patio in Kibbutz[1] Kfar Aza. In the middle of the patio was a long kitchen table, with two bottles of ice-cold water and plastic cups set out for us by a man in his sixties named Shahar, the owner of the house. Shahar and his wife had survived the October 7 massacre nine months earlier. They had been the first members to return to living in the kibbutz after the attack.
We were traveling in Israel for ten days with Passages, an organization dedicated to helping Christian college students explore the roots of their faith. Given current events, one of our main goals was to show solidarity with a hurting and traumatized nation.
I had never been to Israel before. Upon arrival (and all throughout the trip), I saw how the grim reality of October 7 and the toll of the ongoing war permeated the land. Posters displaying photos of the hostages lined the walkways in Ben Gurion Airport. Driving along the highway one day, we passed a group of hostage families undertaking a four-day march from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem to advocate for the release of their loved ones.[2]
Kibbutz Kfar Aza, located about three miles from the Gaza Strip, used to have over 750 residents. On October 7, more than one in ten of them were killed or kidnapped by Hamas.[3]
All the survivors were evacuated in the immediate aftermath, and for a while the kibbutz saw a stream of soldiers, media personnel, tour groups, politicians, and locals. Nine months afterward, when our group arrived on a tour bus, the kibbutz was much quieter and had been tidied up considerably, but the ravages of “the event” remained plainly visible.
Kfar Aza’s armory, with a banner to honor the civil guard – men from the community who lost their lives on October 7 while defending their families and neighbors.
Bright sunlight warmed the dirt paths and filtered through the trees as Shahar guided a group of us through the kibbutz. Many of the houses we passed had graffiti around the doorway, markings made by rescuers from the Israeli army. Some of the homes, like Shahar’s, stood intact, while others had been turned into gaping, fire-gutted ruins.
When we arrived at his house, Shahar invited us onto his patio. He and his wife had hidden in their safe room for 30 hours during Hamas’ murderous rampage, cracking the door open periodically to let in air so they could breathe.[4]
Thankfully, they were able to do so because terrorists did not enter their home. The atrocities Hamas committed in Kfar Aza were arbitrary and senseless. As Shahar recounted, a terrorist who broke into one home told the mother that he did not kill women and children, and allowed her and her kids to live. Meanwhile, in other homes, entire families were slaughtered.
Shahar’s patio. Behind the patio, you can see the window to the safe room in which he and his wife sheltered.
We left the patio in silence and continued the tour. At one point, Shahar mentioned the Holocaust. He knew that October 7 and the Shoah couldn’t be equated, but the echoes and similarities were undeniable. Pointing down the street at one house, he told us how two children who lost their parents survived the massacre by shutting themselves for hours in a closet.[5]
The remains of a house in the young people’s section of the kibbutz. Its owner, Ofir Shoshani, was murdered inside on October 7.
There was an area in the kibbutz where many younger members of the community lived. These young people had suffered the brunt of Hamas’s attack. Entering a small single-story house that had been made open to visitors, it struck me again that this place was never meant to be a landmark of horrific violence; this was somebody’s home. Ordinary people had lived here, hosted their friends over there, done laundry using the washer and dryer outside the door, and spent time dreaming about their future.
The walls and ceiling were riddled with bullet holes, and the cramped safe room in the back had been left in disarray. There were photos of a young couple in their day-to-day lives, as well as photos taken of their blood-soaked furniture after October 7, when both of them were murdered.
The walls and ceiling inside the young couple’s house covered in bullet holes.
I didn’t know and still don’t know how to respond when words and silence both come up short. The evil committed on October 7 is beyond comprehension and can only have a spiritual explanation: people allowing themselves to become Satan’s instruments in perpetuating the ancient hatred of the Jewish people (Psalm 83:1–5; 2 Timothy 2:26).
When I think of Israel, I think of Shahar and his wife, whose world was destroyed when they lost so many friends and neighbors in a matter of hours. I think of their courage and determination in returning to their community, speaking repeatedly with visitors like us about the nightmare they experienced to raise awareness, working toward the day when their community will be rebuilt.
I think of *Adi, who was trained in the IDF as a combat soldier and medic and had served in Gaza on October 7. She accompanied our bus for the first part of the trip and was bewildered that college students in the United States – young people her age – were throwing their support behind Israel’s enemies. We were taking a lunch break after volunteering at a community garden in the city of Lod, and a group of girls gathered around Adi with our plates on our laps.
One girl shared her testimony with Adi and explained why Israel and the Jewish people matter to Christians – because they matter to God! Adi was hearing for the first time there were Christians who love her people and are committed to standing with Israel. Another girl, quoting from Ephesians 2, told Adi how Jesus had removed the wall of hostility between Jewish people and Gentiles through His sacrifice. It was beautiful to see Adi break into a smile as she realized she was among friends, not merely curious onlookers.
A gate set in the fence around Kfar Aza. Gaza is visible in the background.
As the anniversary of 10/7 approaches, there are still over 97 hostages being held in Gaza.[6]
There are still terror groups who believe in the eradication of Israel and who care nothing for the welfare and safety of Palestinian civilians. And there are still ordinary people like Shahar and Adi who are fighting for their nation, whether it’s by moving back to a devastated kibbutz or serving on the front lines, and who may feel that Israel is alone in facing a tide of criticism and hatred.
It can mean a world of difference when followers of Jesus act as His hands and feet and speak the truth in love, as those girls did in our conversation with Adi:[7] that God is faithfully preserving and pursuing the Jewish people, that He has provided for their salvation, and they do not stand alone.
Written by Joyce, Life in Messiah Communications Assistant
This year, October 7 will be the somber one-year mark of an ongoing conflict. Would you join us in praying for peace and salvation for Israelis, Palestinians, the Lebanese people, and others in the Middle East whose lives are threatened by war? We know the only way to lasting peace is through the gospel, when the peace of Messiah rules in the hearts of His followers (Colossians 3:15). Along with prayer for urgent wartime needs, please pray for God to open people’s hearts to the gospel message.
This week, what is a practical way you can comfort your Jewish friends and/or show support for the Jewish community? Is there a door God has opened for you to share His love with a Jewish friend who is grieving?
A while back, Life in Messiah’s video team filmed several interviews in Israel. These videos are not only a great way to stay informed, but sharing them can be a powerful way to spread the word about what’s happening in Israel through first-hand accounts. You can watch these interviews by visiting LIFE’s YouTube channel.
Endnotes:
[1] A kibbutz (plural kibbutzim) is a collectivist community in Israel that people join on a voluntary basis, traditionally based on agriculture. Many modern kibbutzim have been privatized.
[2] See this Times of Israel article for more information: https://www.timesofisrael.com/calling-for-deal-hostage-families-continue-four-day-march-to-jerusalem/.
[3] See this article from Commentary Magazine: https://www.commentary.org/john-podhoretz/kfar-aza-must-live/.
[4] The Jewish News Syndicate reported on Shahar and his wife’s story: https://www.jns.org/we-could-no-longer-be-refugees-in-our-own-country/. Times of Israel did as well: https://www.timesofisrael.com/resilience-amid-ruins-kfar-azas-first-two-returnees-hope-to-forge-a-path-of-renewal/.
[5] These children, Michael (9) and Amalya (6), had a three-year-old sister named Avigail who took refuge with their neighbors but was kidnapped to Gaza. She was released on November 26, 2023. See this Times of Israel article: https://www.timesofisrael.com/taken-captive-three-year-old-avigail-idan-hid-with-the-neighbors/
[6] Thirty-four of the remaining hostages have died in captivity. See this page from the American Jewish Committee for more information: https://www.ajc.org/news/what-is-known-about-israeli-hostages-taken-by-hamas.
[7] Ephesians 4:15.