Agam Berger’s Spiritual Journey: Finding Faith Amidst Hamas Captivity

Agam Berger’s Spiritual Journey: Finding Faith Amidst Hamas Captivity

After 482 harrowing days in the grips of Hamas captivity, Agam Berger has finally returned home. The public first witnessed her ordeal through harrowing footage from a related event on October 7, 2023. In that footage, she appeared bloodied and terrified alongside four other young women soldiers, all abducted from the Nahal Oz IDF base. The terrorists displayed them through the streets of Gaza like trophies.

Recently, a heartfelt ceremony took place at the Yehezkel Synagogue in Tel Aviv. During a traditional meal of gratitude, Berger expressed an emotional plea to God, particularly for the 59 hostages who remain in Gaza. Her voice trembled as she declared, “The lives and the deeds. We won’t rest until they all return.” This poignant declaration underscores her unwavering commitment to her fellow captives.

Agam’s mother, Merav Berger, shared her profound spiritual experience during her daughter’s captivity. She recounted that she began to feel a divine presence shaking her world. In a touching act of solidarity, Merav started observing the Sabbath in her daughter’s honor, all while unsure of Agam’s fate. Though they were raised in a traditional, yet not overtly religious household, Agam’s transformative experience in captivity led her to discover her faith in God.

Merav emphasized that faith and identity were crucial to Agam’s survival. She declared, “They took her body, but they couldn’t take her soul and identity.” This belief likely played a pivotal role in helping Agam endure her harrowing experience.

Initially, scant resources offered a glimmer of hope. Agam and her fellow hostage Liri Albag received a radio early in their captivity. Listening to broadcasts from Israelis who emphasized their worth kept their spirits alive. However, when the captors confiscated their radio after a successful hostage rescue, the reality of their situation darkened significantly.

In January 2024, a twist of fate occurred when Hamas guards brought them a collection of items recovered from an abandoned Israeli military outpost, which included maps, a newspaper, and a Jewish prayer book. Merav later revealed an eerie coincidence: shortly before the prayer book arrived, Agam had a vivid dream about it. Merav questioned, “How do you explain that? That’s not chance. That’s faith.”

With the prayer book in hand, Agam began marking the passage of time through Jewish rituals. She recounted, “We had a watch at first. That’s how we knew when it was Shabbat, when it was Yom Kippur. I fasted. On Passover, I refused bread. I asked for corn flour—and they brought it. In a strange way, they respected my religion.” This adherence to faith became a lifeline amidst extreme adversity.

As the months dragged on, conditions deteriorated within the confines of captivity. Agam reported that the rotating guards introduced a range of personalities, some excessively cruel, while others were indifferent. “They argued with us, scolded us over small things… we didn’t know who we could trust,” she related to Israeli media. Despite these challenges, Agam tried to maintain hope, clinging to the belief that she would return home before her younger brother’s bar mitzvah. However, when the day came and went without her return, she admitted, “That broke me.” Yet, she held onto the belief that her ordeal would end eventually.

Even as whispers of a potential hostage deal surfaced in early 2025, Agam resisted being swept up in optimism. She confided, “We heard people talking, but we didn’t think it would happen for us.” But on January 24, when another hostage, Liri Elbag, was taken away to film a video, the air turned electric. Agam awaited Liri’s return, having prepared birthday cards. However, someone broke the news that her friends had already returned home.

The following day brought chaotic sounds of gunfire. Her captors dressed her in a hijab and drove her in circles for what felt like an eternity. “They didn’t let me take anything—not our notebooks, not the drawings, nothing,” she recalled during her interview with Israeli public radio.

Agam’s absence left an irreplaceable void in her family. Yet, her siblings demonstrated remarkable resilience. Her twin sister Liyam remained steadfastly in the army, even completing officer training while Agam was still missing. Her mother remarked, “She did it for her sister.” Similarly, Bar, the youngest sibling, changed her mind about enlisting after hearing Agam promise her fellow hostages she would return to her base. Just three days after Agam came home, Bar graduated from her unit, committed to carrying her sister’s legacy forward.

Now that Agam is back, she finds herself surrounded by an outpouring of support from friends and well-wishers. However, a sense of disquiet lingers within her—not while others remain in captivity. In the synagogue, she made a fervent public declaration, “We won’t rest until every soul—living or dead—comes home.” Her impassioned words reflect a commitment not only to her fellow captives but to a broader message of hope and resilience.

As Merav expressed with conviction, “This is the Jewish mission. There’s nothing more sacred. It’s our right to exist—and our rebirth as a people depends on it. God brought Agam home. Now we have a duty to bring the others back too.” These powerful sentiments encapsulate the enduring spirit of hope and community amidst adversity.