A PERSONAL EYEWITNESS: where bombs expose what faith assumes

This past week I met with believers in the war-torn countries of Lebanon and Syria. And, today, with humility, I want to testify like John (1 John1:1): “What we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and our hands have touched… this we proclaim to you.”

I was there.  With my hands I have touched, with my eyes I have seen

I have heard the sounds of bombs falling, I have witnessed the complete and utter destruction of life, land and hope.  This is not a political opinion.  It is not a theory.  It is not debatable or defendable.  Those who were previously on the brink of despair have now been pushed into an abyss of hopelessness.  The innocent is being devoured by those obsessed with power.  And heaven weeps

The aim of our visit was to visit fellow believers, beloved partners and ministry friends.  To confirm our solidarity with the church in these two nations and to share in their pain.  It was a short but intentional visit.  The visit was not merely a change of geography; it was a descent into a world where faith is not assumed but solidified. In these two nations, belief is not a theology that comforts—it is a discipline that demands.  It demands new revelations into unspoken truths and new dimensions to old teachings.

Since the war began on 2 March 2026, the total number of bombs and missiles used by Israel to destroy tens of villages in southern Lebanon, is in the thousands, likely well above 5,000 individual munitions.  According to the Jerusalem Post, The IDF may have destroyed well over 10,000 Lebanese homes and displaced more than 1,5 million people.  According to some people interviewed the IDF is now using drones with the sounds of children screaming.  The emotional onslaught on the people of this nation has reached new levels of depravity.

In Lebanon, hope is not a sentiment—it is a daily decision. And faith is not an academic exercise—it is breath, survival, and the quiet courage to keep going when everything around you is falling apart.

As we walked among believers in Beirut, Damascus, and the surrounding regions, we encountered a Christianity stripped of luxury and pretence. What remains is raw, radiant, and unmistakably real. Bombed-out buildings, shattered streets, and grieving families became the backdrop against which deeper truths emerged—truths that expose our shallow assumptions and invite us into a more ancient, resilient faith.

This journey did not offer theories; it offered testimonies. It did not present ideas; it revealed lives. It did not ask for opinions; it demanded witnesses.

What follows over the next few days are the theologies that rose from the rubble—truths tasted, touched, and seen. Truths that call us to show up, draw near, delight deeply, shepherd faithfully, and recognise beauty even in brokenness.

These are the unmistakable theologies of a church that refuses to die.

So, for the next 7 days we will explore a theology that was placed under the spotlight as we fellowshipped with the remanent in Lebanon and Syria.  We will look at the:

1. The unmistakeable theology of showing up
2. The unmistakeable theology of delight
3. The unmistakable theology of drawing near
4. The unmistakable theology of shepherding the remnant
5. The unmistakeable theology of beauty in the midst of brokenness
6. The unmistakeable theology of intentional resilience
7. The unmistakeable theology of radiant beauty

On Monday we start by exploring the unmistakeable theology of showing up