Rev. Dr Imad Haddad at his consecration service in Jerusalem’s Church of the Redeemer on 11 January 2026. Photo: ELCJHL/Studio Sami
Bishop Imad Haddad of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land
(LWI) - He has strong memories of ‘coming home’ to the church in the Holy Land. Of growing up during turbulent times. Of questioning where Palestinians fit into the Old Testament narratives of the region. Of trusting in God’s call and the promise of peace amid ongoing conflict and occupation. His mission today is to empower people to stay connected to the church and to work towards the changes they want to see.
Imad Haddad was not born into a Lutheran family, but in January this year, he was installed as the fifth bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land. His story is a journey of personal and family struggles, of uncertainties reflecting the fear and insecurity of the political situation all around him in Israel and the West Bank.
Having studied abroad before his ordination in Jerusalem, he understands why so many Palestinians want to leave and find better opportunities, a less hostile environment to live and to raise a family. But his message to them is clear: always stay connected to the land, to the church, to your family, to your roots. Because we need you and you can make a difference.
Tell us something about your family and your earliest encounter with the church there in the Holy Land?
I was born in Beit Jala and my mother worked in the Lutheran boarding school there, that is how I really came to be in touch with my Lutheran identity. I was raised in Lutheran schools since my first years of kindergarten, but when I entered the boarding school, that was when I got to know the youth groups, to attend Bible studies and I was really embraced and welcomed by the pastor in Beit Jala.
Were your parents members of the Lutheran church?
No, they were Catholics. But they got divorced, and you know this is not easy being in a religious culture like the Middle East, so there were tensions with the church and, as a family, we felt the bitterness of that relationship, unfortunately.
As a result, I felt I was going astray, but it was the welcome of the Lutheran pastor that brought me back to the church, it felt like coming home. I didn’t feel that I was being injured again, it felt like a time for healing and growing, even with all the difficulties we had. It felt like I wasn’t being judged because of my history and family situation, but I was being welcomed instead. Later, my mother, my brother and I became full members of the Lutheran church.
I presume that while you’re struggling with these family difficulties, you’re also dealing with the challenges at that time?
Yes, of course. I was a young lad when the [uprising] began in 1987, but with the arrival of the Palestinian Authority in 1994, I was heading into high school. I remember both sides, the times when we felt the insecurity, seeing people arrested in front of me by the occupation soldiers, the demonstrations in the streets, but also the arrival of the Palestinian Authority in Bethlehem. If you remember, they went first to Gaza and Jericho and then to the Bethlehem area, that was the deal.
How did you feel, what was your involvement with this changing political situation?
I was not directly involved in politics, but I always had this struggle of thinking what does it mean for me? How do we connect with this when we read the Bible, the Old Testament? I remember as a very young child, I used to go with my grandmother to the Melkite Catholic Church and read the Bible there. I read everything but I was always asking the same question, what does this mean for me as a Palestinian Christian? Where do I fit in?
But there was always a sense of insecurity to life, both by day and by night, walking the streets was not safe. There was always a fear that something will erupt while we are going to school or walking with my mum. There is a scene that I cannot forget from my childhood, of soldiers catching some young protesters and dragging them out to the fields where their hands were put on a rock and hit with another rock to break their hands. I cannot get this image out of my mind.
After finishing school, you left and went abroad to study, didn’t you?
Yes, after school, I went to the Near East School of Theology in Beirut to do my undergraduate degree. That was another adventure because, as a Palestinian, I was not able to travel to Beirut, so I had to get a temporary Jordanian passport which allowed me to be a resident in Beirut.
After that, in 2006, I went to the United States, to Columbia in South Carolina to spend a year at what was called the Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary. Now it has moved and merged with another university, but that was where I studied for my Lutheran and Ecumenical Studies year.
Did you ever feel tempted to stay there in the United States, to get away from the fear and insecurity you grew up with?
Actually, I learned to get over that feeling during my time in Lebanon. When I started my studies, I felt I was being called to serve the church in the Holy Land and that is where my place is, in Palestine, serving the church there. This is my story, the one that I explain to people, and it grew up with me, so no, I was never temped to stay in the States.
Then you returned to Jerusalem for your ordination?
Yes, I was ordained in Jerusalem, but I was called to serve the church in Beit Sahur. I was already married before I went to the United States and when I came back, we stayed in Beit Sahur from late 2007 until 2012. After that, I was called to serve the church in Ramallah, and then in Amman, Jordan, from 2020 until I was called to be the bishop of the church.
You felt called to stay in the Holy Land, but there are so many other Christians who are leaving – are you concerned for the future of the church in your region?
This is connected to the very difficult situation, but of course I have hope. I don’t think Christianity will disappear from the Holy Land and we work towards that end. We are not passersby to the history of Christianity here, we are people who can really make an impact.
But at this moment of history, we can’t tell people you don’t deserve to look for a better environment, a better context to live and raise a family. What we say to them is do not lose your connection with the land. Always keep connected to your home, to your family, to your roots because we need you and you can make a difference. So yes, go and search for a better life but always keep in mind that you are called to be here, to come back when there is more security and to make a difference. That’s our message.
My own brother, he lives and works in Saudi Arabia now, but he is always connected to the land and to the family. He is building a house there now and preparing for the day that he can come back. This is an example of what so many of our young people are doing, going abroad to work and using some of the money that they earn to build homes in Palestine so that they will always stay connected to their families.
You know, most of those people who travel to live abroad, no matter where they go, they keep their registration and their membership in the church. A lot of them come back to get married and to baptize their children. Especially with the live streaming of our services now, they stay more connected. Yes, they have a right to go and find better ways to live but always remember that we have a message and people know that we are part of the peace that will come to this land. We are not only peace hopers, but we are peace makers. That is our calling.
You are asking them to come back, to build homes but that is increasingly difficult for Palestinians?
Yes, it is, but that is part of our hope. It is not just wishful thinking or just a dream. It is the work we have to do to build a future. When we pray to God for peace, we do not just stay still and wait for an answer. We don't just wish that things will change, we trust that God calls us to go and make the changes. It means that we start building today so that when things get better, we are ready to live it.
It is very difficult to live with the occupation. It is very difficult to live with walls around you, with checkpoints, with the bad economy. So many of our people can’t go to their jobs because of the roadblocks, they can’t earn the money they need for food, for medicine, for tuition fees so the church tries to help where it can.
It is very hard to live with all these challenges, but it is even more difficult to live with these obstacles in your heart. When we start to say it is not possible to do anything, that’s when we risk the churches becoming empty. I am not naive, but I hope and I trust that we have a role to play. God’s promise is not only for the afterlife, but God calls us to live now, today.
What are your priorities as bishop of the church in Jordan and the Holy Land?
We must encourage our youth to be part of the church, not just the future of the church, but the present day. We must help people to see that the church is not an outsider, an isolated entity in society, but part and parcel of it, called to encourage and to build. We are called to be prophetic in a very bad situation. We are already doing this, but I want to increase that feeling of responsibility, to empower the youth, the women, the church itself, to go out into the community, not to be a church behind closed doors.
Do you try and work toward these goals with other Christians, with other faith leaders?
We cannot exist alone here. We are a very small church, and I would say we have a mighty voice, but we do not exist alone. We exist within the ecumenical body of churches in the Holy Land, so yes, we work together and raise awareness together. Interfaith relations also play a big part too, but when times allow it. In the older days, we had a trialogue with Christians, Muslims and Jews but nowadays that is more difficult, so it is more of a dialogue with our Muslim neighbors. I think there are good seeds for dialogue between the three faiths but, to be honest, it is not a priority for now. Our priority is to seek justice for our people.
Unfortunately, religion is viewed as part of the problem in our region, so we must work on how to make religion part of the solution instead. I try to differentiate between interreligious and interfaith dialogues because I believe that faith is part of the solution. If we converse with each other on the basis of faith, our belief that God created us equally, we may come to an understanding, accepting and respecting each other. But if we talk on the basis of religious rules and strategies and boundaries, then we will differ and find the way forward closed.
Finally, what does it mean to you and to the church in the Holy Land to be part of the wider global Lutheran family?
I always introduce myself as an Arab, Palestinian, Christian, Lutheran, this is part of my skin, it is who I am and I cannot leave any of those parts behind. My identity as a Palestinian Christian does not differ from my identity as a Lutheran. Rather it broadens it and helps me understand the faith of my community that I was raised in but also allows me to understand my fellow Lutheran who is from Latin America or South Africa.
It means that we are the same body but with different roles, different tasks. It empowers rather than weakens my identity. I bring my Arab, Palestinian identity and I become enriched by the Lutheran identity of all my African, Asian, European and American siblings.