GRAPEVINE, Texas — It’s impossible to miss the commotion. Amid the sprawling exhibition floor of the Gaylord Texan Resort & Convention Center, a crowd has gathered, spilling out from what has quickly become the most talked-about installation at the National Religious Broadcasters convention. The sign reads “Warroom: The Next Frontier,” and the exhibit has drawn over 1,000 visitors since opening day, with lines forming throughout the day.
“Everyone’s saying you have to experience it to understand,” explains a minister from California, waiting his turn. “People are coming out visibly moved.”
While other booths showcase publishing houses, media organizations, and ministry resources, nothing generates the intense buzz surrounding Israel365’s immersive installation—a stark departure from typical convention fare.
“Can you point to Judea on a map?” asks a volunteer at the entrance, catching visitors off guard. Almost none can answer with confidence. The question isn’t merely geographic—it’s the first step into understanding a conflict that dominates headlines but remains poorly understood by most Americans.
The Israel365 installation stands out dramatically from the convention’s other offerings. It’s not merely an exhibition—it’s a carefully orchestrated journey through Israel’s Biblical heartland, designed to educate visitors about regions they’ve heard mentioned in countless news reports but struggle to conceptualize.
“We decided to call it ‘Warroom: The Next Frontier’ because people—Jews and Christians alike—often don’t know what Judea and Samaria truly are,” explained Rabbi Tuly Weisz, the founder of Israel 365. “This is our way of helping them understand.”
The experience unfolds in stages, each more personal and visceral than the last.
First, visitors are guided into a darkened room where they stand before a large screen. A documentary, produced in partnership with “The Israel Guys,” plays before them. The film traces the complex history of Judea and Samaria through pivotal historical moments: the tumultuous birth of Israel in 1948, the territorial changes after the 1967 Six-Day War, the hope and subsequent disappointment of the Oslo Accords in 1995, and the current reality on the ground.
As the screen fades to black, a door opens to reveal a small, intimate space designed to feel like a living room. Here, Rabbi Elie Mischel waits to share his story. The former New Jersey synagogue leader stands casually but speaks with intensity about his family’s life-altering decision to move to Efrat in Judea, mere yards from Bethlehem.
“We had good lives in America,” Rabbi Mischel explains, his voice carrying the conviction of someone who has made difficult choices. “I led a synagogue, my wife was a psychologist. But we felt God was calling us to something more profound. The Jewish people are finally returning home after 2,000 years of exile, fulfilling ancient prophecies. We couldn’t bear to watch from afar anymore.”
He describes the sacrifice of relocating with teenage children—”Imagine being sixteen, leaving all your friends behind, moving to a new country where you don’t speak the language”—and the harsh realities of his new life. Neighbors lost to terrorism. Community boys who gave their lives fighting in Gaza and Lebanon. The necessity of carrying firearms for protection.
“Both my wife and I now have guns to protect our family,” he says, his expression grave. “I pray daily that I never have to use mine.”
He gestures toward a map showing the proximity to Bethlehem. “Bethlehem used to be an amazing Christian city, but Islamists have driven out most of the Christians. We live only a few hundred yards away, but I’ve never been there—I would be murdered within minutes.”
His tone softens as he describes the spiritual connection to the land. “When I feel the wind on my face, I know it’s the same wind, on the same hills, where David once shepherded his sheep. I can see Jerusalem from my porch—something my great-grandparents could only dream of.”
As visitors absorb his words, they’re ushered into what appears to be a typical Israeli dining room. They gather around a table facing a video screen where Rabbi Leo Dee appears. The room falls silent as he recounts, without melodrama or theatrics, the devastating loss of his wife and two daughters in a terrorist attack – where a Palestinian terrorist brutally murdered Lucy, Maya, and Rina Dee as they were driving to a family event over the Holiday of Passover. The rustling of Kleenex from the visitors to the war room complemented the raw grief and remarkable resilience exuded from Rabbi Dee.
Just as visitors begin processing this emotional testimony though, an air raid siren pierces the room. The sound is startling—deliberately so.
“Follow the signs to the mamad,” a guide instructs urgently, using the Hebrew term for a reinforced safe room that has become standard in Israeli construction.
But the path leads somewhere unexpected—to April 6, 2042. The future scenario unfolds like something from a dystopian film: sniper fire echoes in the distance, reports come in of downed aircraft, and maps displayed on walls show a dramatically shrunken Israel.
“Welcome to what we call a Ma’amad—a bomb shelter,” explains the guide, the siren still wailing in the background. “What you’re experiencing is the daily reality that would face every Israeli if a Palestinian state is established in Judea and Samaria. Just as Hamas turned Gaza into a terror base, this scenario shows what happens when terrorists gain control of the hills overlooking Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, and Israel’s major population centers.”
Attendees are handed newspapers chronicling a future where Israel has been reduced to just nine miles wide at its center. The headlines describe terrorists firing directly into Tel Aviv office buildings from positions in Samaria. “The stories you’re reading aren’t speculation,” the guide emphasizes. “They’re based on what we’ve already witnessed from Gaza, but on a much larger, more devastating scale.”
The group is led in prayer for Israel’s future, a somber moment in the confined space of the simulated bomb shelter. Then comes a stark call to action: “Prayer must be followed by action,” Visitors were encouraged to sign a pledge, a commitment to stand by Israel to prevent this from ever becoming a reality. You can be part of that movement too, simply by following this link.
“Make sure this never happens,” reads a stark message projected on the wall as visitors prepare to exit. “This will happen if our land is given away.”
Stepping back into the convention center’s bright lights feels jarring, almost surreal. Outside the Warroom, the Israel365 area bustles with activity. A pop-up store offers books, including “Heroes of October 7th” and “The War on the Bible,” while the Israel Ministry of Heritage hosts a virtual reality experience nearby. In one corner, Rabbi Pesach Wolicki records his podcast live, his animated conversation creating a stark contrast to the solemnity of the Warroom experience.
For those who couldn’t experience the Warroom in person, we are pleased to share that a digital version will be available through our incredible online Bible learning platform, Bible Plus. With your subscription, you will be able to virtually experience life in Judea and Samaria, and so much more beginning March 5th.
As Robin Frutter from Houston remarked while exiting: “I’ve read about these places my entire life. I’ve studied the Bible for decades. But I never truly understood what was at stake until today.”
This, it seems, was precisely the point of the Warroom: to transform abstract geopolitical debates into visceral human understanding—and to issue a warning about the catastrophic consequences of territorial compromise.
No visitor departs unchanged. The impact is written on their faces—resolve, concern, and a newfound clarity about a land half a world away yet central to their faith.
Please take action and help us stop the formation of a Palestinian terror state in Judea & Samaria
