I was raised in Jaffa, attending church every Sunday with my dad, who was a Greek Orthodox cantor. I was in Christian Scouts as a kid and eventually took on leadership roles, sometimes even conducting the marching band—a big deal for our community. We marched during Christmas and Easter, celebrating weddings, baptisms, and other holidays together. Each family had its own cooking specialties, and we had our friendly competitions.
In short, we were just your ordinary Middle Eastern Christian community. Our neighbors included Muslims and Jews, and we all studied, worked, and lived side by side.
As a Christian, Arab, and Israeli, I felt grounded and happy growing up. Yet, sometimes I can’t help but think that the Israel portrayed in various discussions seems entirely different from the one I’ve known.
There’s a striking narrative that suggests Christians in Israel are under siege, that Christianity is being pushed out, and that hostility from Jewish extremists is making life unbearable for Christians. Honestly, it paints a troubling and puzzling picture of the country as I know it.
Let me clarify: there are indeed instances of religious radicals abusing clergy, targeting Christians, and vandalizing property. Such actions are disgraceful. It’s imperative that Israel addresses these issues through law enforcement, education, and leadership in religious matters.
But here’s a question that seems overlooked in much of the debate:
Do these extremists really define Israel? If they do, we might need to reconsider several descriptions of Western democracies.
For instance, in 2025, the Anti-Defamation League documented over 6,000 anti-Semitic incidents in the United States—an average of 17 per day. Notably, 203 of those were physical assaults, the highest since tracking began.
Does that mean America is an anti-Semitic society? Absolutely not.
Take Spain, for example. Hate incidents surged by 23.6% in 2025, with anti-Semitic events up 86.5%. Should we then label Spain fundamentally anti-Semitic? Again, no.
Extremism is a reality in every democratic society, and at times, it escalates. Governments must tackle such behavior, but sensible discussions should draw clear distinctions between extremists within a society and the actual character of that society.
Yet, this differentiation seems absent when discussing Israel.
If an extremist in Boston or Madrid assaults a Jew, we readily label him an anti-Semite. But when fanatics in Jerusalem target Christians, suddenly we’re tasked with analyzing Israeli society.
This isn’t fair analysis; it’s a double standard.
If you want to gauge the vitality of Christianity in a country, there are more reliable indicators than focusing on its worst elements.
So, let’s start with a fundamental question.
Will Christians vanish from Israel?
Not if the current trends continue.
In 1950, there were around 34,000 Christians in Israel. Fast forward to today, and that number has grown to roughly 184,000.
Now, consider what Christians are doing within the country.
Think of one story that illustrates Christian integration far more vividly than any pamphlet could.
Judge Salim Jubran, an Arab Christian and a former Supreme Court judge in Israel, was part of the panel that sentenced former Israeli President Moshe Katsav to prison. Reflect on that: an Arab Christian helped hold a Jewish President accountable.
And no one questioned his identity. He was just doing his job as a judge; that’s the crux of it.
Christians are represented in various professions—doctors, academics, business leaders, police officers, that sort of thing.
I’m one of them.
The Jaffa Christian Scout kid eventually became Israel’s first Christian ambassador. Now, I serve as Israel’s special envoy to Christendom, a role aimed at enhancing ties with Christian communities globally. It’s an interesting role for a nation often deemed adversarial to Christianity.
There are more compelling facts, too. In 2014, Israel officially recognized the Aramaic people, honoring a community deeply rooted in the history of Christianity.
Yet, this same country continues to invest in both the past and future of Christianity.
Not long ago, I visited the Bethsaida excavation on the Sea of Galilee, believed to be the hometown of apostles Peter and Andrew. There were Israeli and American archaeologists, Jews and Christians, literally uncovering the world of Jesus.
It’s a striking image. A nation said to be erasing Christianity is revealing the village of its founding figures.
Israel is also gearing up for 2030, when Christians will celebrate two millennia since the baptism of Jesus, anticipating a flood of pilgrims to this sacred site.
Interesting developments are happening beyond Israel too. Recent polls in Lebanon indicate that a significant number of Christians support peace with Israel, with 77% of Maronites and 72% of Orthodox Christians favoring it.
Perhaps, facing the decimation of ancient communities like those in Iraq and Syria, Christians in the Middle East are starting to grapple with questions beyond conventional political narratives.
Maybe Jews and Christians in the region have more invested in each other’s survival than years of conflict have suggested.
None of this ever justifies anti-Christian aggression. Any Jewish individual spitting on a priest ought to be condemned, and Israel should take legal action. Period.
Israel does indeed have work to do. We must enhance enforcement, ensure leaders speak out, and improve education. I’m involved in addressing these areas within the government.
Yet, I refuse to be a platform for extremists; they’re extremists. Sadly, sensational narratives sometimes make it seem like they represent the entire Israeli populace rather than just themselves.
Current narratives often highlight extremists while sidelining Christian justices.
The kid who spat is Israeli, yet the Christian ambassador is somehow portrayed as an outsider. How convenient! This portrayal thrives on a distorted image that requires no fabricated facts—just selected frames that distort the bigger picture. By zooming in on one crack in a cathedral, one can create the illusion that the whole structure is crumbling. Those cracks exist, but the portrayal is misleading.
A broader issue underlies this: Christianity originated in this region. Yet, across much of the Middle East, historic Christian communities have faced wars, persecution, instability, and emigration.
Before the Syrian civil war, over 2 million Christians lived there; now, only a few hundred thousand remain. Iraq’s community has plummeted from over 1.5 million to under 200,000.
Thus, the more pressing question for Christianity today isn’t merely about acknowledging unpleasant extremists. It’s about identifying where Christians will thrive in the Middle East in the coming decades.
I want a future that includes not only Jaffa, Jerusalem, Nazareth, and Galilee but also Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, Egypt, and every region where Christians have established roots over centuries.
A few days ago, at Bethsaida, I was reminded this is where the story of Christianity took shape. Two thousand years later, Christians remain present—not merely as relics or victims but as active participants.
We worship, raise families, critique our government, build schools and careers, serve our country, and shape its future.
Yes, there are extremists in Israel. They deserve condemnation and should be prosecuted. But what they do not deserve is to define the nation. And those eager to allow such a portrayal should ponder why.
