This year, Easter and Passover coincided not only with each other, but with the war in Iran, and that led to subdued holidays in Israel.

Gatherings were restricted in size, and access to Jerusalem was severely limited.

Producer Carl Bastik and Nick Shiffron have this report on Passover in Israel under fire.

This year in the Holy Land, the holidays turned into tests of faith.

Residents in Matula, Israel's northernmost town, rush inside whatever reinforced room offer seconds of safety.

The sirens of incoming Hezbollah rockets or missiles provide only 15 seconds of warning.

What sounds like distant booms outgoing Israeli air defense on the first day of Passover.

We are not safe.

We cannot celebrate together like each each year every year.

It was a missile.

This here, this is the car damage.

No more.

Miriam Hood shows producer Carl Bostic the aftermath of a Hezbollah strike just last week.

This car on her street full of pock marks.

Her hotel pierced by shrapnel.

She owns the base Shalom.

She says Passover doesn't feel as it should.

Is there a reason to celebrate right now?

No.

No isn't.

We are we are not celebrate today.

We stay home.

No family.

Holy Week is supposed to help inaugurate spring.

But for many of the faithful this year, that joy was missing.

And instead, weeks of war left emptiness.

What should have been a full Western was instead deserted because of restrictions on group gatherings during the war.

In northern Israel, with Lebanon in the distance, that means a town largely evacuated.

One of Matula's residents who stayed behind.

This is the the traditional food for pes is both spiritual guide and protector.

Israel Pakar is a reservist on duty and a rabbi in Matula.

He helps residents hold on to their spirit and their homes.

the end of this street it's Lebanon and Hisbala also thought it's a very good idea to start with us and during the war with Iran.

Israel says Hezbollah fired more than 2100 drones and missiles into northern Israel.

Rockets, fire, whatever it's going to be, we are here to protect our community, me and my friends.

and we do it 24 hours a day.

We first met Pakar two years ago when he and his wife Sarah were evacuated following the October 7th terrorist attacks and the 2023 war between Israel and Hezbollah.

Part of the winning is to keep our morality up.

Today, Israel has invaded southern Lebanon to create what it calls a security belt along the border so Matulla's residents can remain if they choose.

Of course, it's not peacefully and quiet now like regular And a lot of families went out only for Pesak.

Many Matula residents fled here, Tiberius, 40 miles to the south, an ancient biblical city on the Sea of Galilee, where scripture says Jesus walked on water.

And it's a temporary home for the displaced to mark the moment that Jews gain freedom from a vengeful pharaoh in Egypt.

Mosha Weinstein leads the Passover seder with his family and Matula residents.

But one is missing.

His son Omare was killed in October 2024 by a Hezbollah rocket.

Omr was supposed to inherit the family farm from his father.

His gravestone overlooks the outskirts of Matula.

If I had stayed in the synagogue and prayed 24/7 for a son like Ome, I wouldn't have received one.

Across the table from him, his son-in-law, Mushi Wagshaw, this is the husband of my son-in-law, my daughter.

And the Wagshaws continue the family business on the same land where the family has lived more than a century.

Despite being there for five generations, have you ever thought about leaving a tour?

We returned after the war.

Our daughter asked us not to return.

We promised her that at the first siren we would leave and we haven't kept that promise.

The current war started and we stayed in Matula.

Because on this holiday that marks Jews escape from bondage toward the biblical promised land, they hold on to their homes in the face of war.

For the PBS NewsHour, I'm Nick Shiffren.

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