By Marianne van Tielen

I longed to return to Israel for the Feast of Tabernacles, to help with ICEJ’s annual Feast, and to meet Homecare people I had met on earlier visits.

My journey went smoothly, and I felt welcomed as soon as I arrived at Ben Gurion Airport. The next day, I joined Homecare nurse, Corrie van Maanen, at a large supermarket to buy groceries for an elderly lady. Having often done this while living in Israel with my husband, I set out without a second thought, wandering the aisles with my cart, unaware of what lay ahead.

Suddenly, I noticed how exhausted everyone looked as they filled their carts for the holidays. I had the shocking realisation that many would miss loved ones at the Sukkot table—some killed, others still defending Israel’s north and south. I quickly realised I had returned to a changed Israel. I had last been there on October 7, 2023, the day of the incursion and the war’s outbreak. The events had changed people to their core.

Days before my journey, I attended a pro-Israel rally in Amsterdam and witnessed intense hostility toward Israel in the Netherlands. I travelled to Israel as a boycott became a real possibility, realising they were not turning their backs on Israel, but deliberately on the God of Israel.

The boycott has become reality, and the Feast of Tabernacles has begun. As believers from around the world gather in Israel, the boycott of products from Judea and Samaria, the Golan and East Jerusalem—originating in the Netherlands, Ireland and Norway—has spread rapidly and made major Israeli news. Witnessing this injustice firsthand, I feel deep indignation. I also feel ashamed of the Netherlands, a country I’ve loved all my life, though shame is giving way to frustration and helplessness. What can I do?

I’m enjoying the ICEJ celebration. Meaningful conversations reveal what is in people’s hearts. I’ve met several Russian families Corrie visits weekly. With some elderly residents, we sat in their sukkahs, sharing memories of life in the Former Soviet Union. I see how they’ve embraced Jewish roots once hidden. One word can’t sum it up, but gratitude tops the list—gratitude for God’s faithfulness! 

Every year, the ICEJ holds a Feast march for conference attendees from seventy countries, with flags and traditional costumes. I have been looking forward to it, feeling close to the people. Today was different: we joined the Dutch group—two young men in orange outfits and wooden clogs—and waited to begin. Israelis came from far and wide to watch. Children pleaded, “Please, give me a flag!” Beautiful, expectant faces surrounded us: fathers carrying children or pushing strollers. Surrounded by Israelis in tears, embracing, sharing joy and spreading love.

I spoke with a young father whose seven-year-old son stood beside him. When he asked where I was from, I hesitantly said Holland. He replied, “You are welcome—most welcome.” His heartfelt words moved me deeply. “I feel such shame for the Netherlands because we are turning our backs on Israel,” I said. He was moved, too, and replied, “We are glad you are here.” “I am so happy to be here; we will keep praying for you, and I will come back—we won’t forget you.”

Just a brief encounter; I wanted to embrace him, but I couldn’t, so I hugged the little boy beside him instead. We were both deeply moved. At a profound level, I see the people’s pain and loneliness; even as the world rejects them, they say: “Welcome, we’re glad you’re here.” That afternoon, I glimpsed the Father-heart of God—seeing how He shares His sorrow with us. I write this with all humility; who am I to understand His heart and, in doing so, comfort His people? They opened their lonely, wounded hearts to us on the parade that was so much more than just a march. It might sound hard to grasp, but I witnessed the Jewish people genuinely celebrating amid their sorrow.

The Homecare team had a beautiful table at the Feast, decorated with cards, magnets, and two pomegranates, to engage with Feast pilgrims.

I would like to share about Daniel, a 26-year-old soldier and believer in Messiah who came from northern Israel for the day. He made Aliyah from Russia with his parents at age eleven and is fully integrated and truly Israeli. We discussed Israeli society: the prosperity and impressive development of its eighty years, alongside the loneliness.

Daniel said: “We are living in increasingly difficult times. It is a time when we are increasingly expecting the return of the Messiah—like waiting for a bus; we cannot afford to be late, and we don’t want to miss Him.”

Thank you for supporting the important work of ICEJ Homecare. Please give today at: help.icej.org/homecare

Main photo: Marianne sits in a sukkah, sharing conversation and snacks with some of the elderly residents.