‘if Staying Brings Scars’: A Pastor Reflects On Remaining In Beirut

Lebanon has lived with conflict for decades. The war between Hezbollah and Israel in 2006 returned and escalated after October 7, 2023.

After watching a year of fighting at Lebanon’s southern border, citizens of Beirut saw the missile strikes arrive in their city, where I live and pastor, in late summer 2024. Though embassies urged citizens to leave and missions organizations pulled out, our elders and their families chose to stay because so many in our church didn’t have the privilege of leaving.

As the primary preaching pastor, I didn’t know how I could preach the gospel of the kingdom and encourage the church with Paul’s words—“The sufferings of the present time are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed to us” (Rom. 8:18, CSB)—then leave because of the difficulties.

It’s hard to describe the nonstop buzzing of drones over Beirut during those months, the daily breaking of the sound barrier by Israeli fighter jets, and the near-daily explosions from missiles that took down buildings. Preparing sermons under these conditions was challenging, but by God’s grace our church gathered every Sunday during the war.

Now our city is again experiencing war.

Mass Displacement

About a week after the United States and Israel entered direct conflict with Iran, Lebanon was pulled into regional conflict. After a couple of days of missile strikes in Beirut, Israel issued two mass evacuation orders in Lebanon. Hundreds of thousands of Lebanese were told to flee their homes if they wanted to save their lives.

Mass panic ensued. Threats of mass destruction aren’t new, but Beirut was bombarded with hundreds of missile strikes more than a year ago, so the fears are fresh. It’s only in the last few months that I’ve noticed my body has stopped tensing up and my heart has stopped racing in response to loud sounds or distant rumblings. Now we’re hearing those sounds again.

Counting the Cost

Jesus teaches that a person cannot follow him without first counting the cost (Luke 14:25–33). He gives the example of a king who, before going to war, needs to sit down and decide if he’s able to confront another king with a bigger army. What is he willing to lose? What is there to gain? Does he stand a chance?

All those who follow Jesus are called to count the cost—but those who would be sent to least-reached and difficult places have a few more costs to count. Are you willing to go? Are you willing to stay?

I’ve been encouraged by some of our missionary church members who want to stay and have sought our counsel as elders in these matters. Just this morning, I had a conversation with a dear missionary couple in our church, checking in on them after a difficult night. They’re scared, and I told them that’s natural. They’re anxious; how can they not be? They don’t know what to do; that’s OK.

I told them, “This is hard, and it’s OK that it’s hard. We may end up with scars—that’s OK too. Jesus had scars . . . scars that will stay with him forever. Because of his scars, ours will heal one day. And that’s why we can stay.”

Scars for the Church

When Scripture calls the church to mourn and rejoice with one another (Rom. 12:15) and to bear one another’s burdens (Gal. 6:2), this includes the responsibility and honor of suffering alongside one another (1 Cor. 12:26). That’s the heart of the one-anothers: We’re one with each other because we’re one with Christ. And ministers of the gospel should feel the responsibility and honor all the more.

We may end up with scars. Jesus had scars . . . scars that will stay with him forever. Because of his scars, ours will heal one day. And that’s why we can stay.

Those precious words from Hebrews 10 come to mind. “Let us consider one another in order to provoke love and good works, not neglecting to gather together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging each other, and all the more as you see the day approaching” (vv. 24–25, CSB).

For those who have been moved to go to the ends of the earth with the gospel, God strengthens us through the same gospel hope and the same means that sustain the brothers and sisters we serve—even when perseverance leaves us with scars.

A few days ago, I was speaking with this same couple about how to make decisions about staying or leaving—sharing with them the categories we consider as we think through those things—and I wanted them to hear clearly: It’s not wrong to go. And yet I told them how I’ve seen fruit over the years because we stayed.

When my brother finds his heart racing because of loud noises, I’m able to relate—and we bear one another’s burdens. When my sister is unable to sleep through the night, I get that because I struggle too. When parents worry about their children living through horrors they never wanted them to see, we can pray together and trust God together.

These scars and sufferings reflect Jesus’s scars and sufferings. And as we live by faith in the One who died for us, we’re able to “carry the death of Jesus in our body, so that the life of Jesus may also be displayed in our body. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’s sake, so that Jesus’s life may also be displayed in our mortal flesh” (2 Cor. 4:10–11, CSB).

These are the privileges of staying. “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (Eph. 5:25), and we can reflect that love in giving ourselves away to one another.

Scars for the Lost

Staying and bearing scars also gives us an opportunity to share Jesus’s love. This was true in Paul’s life, and he rejoiced that his suffering served to advance the gospel to the nations (Col. 1:24–29).

It’s not wrong to go.  And yet I’ve seen fruit over the years because we stayed.

Too many people only know the brokenness of this world and not the healing and renewal available in Jesus. They don’t know about the God who stepped into the brokenness—the God whose body was broken for us. They don’t know the scars that save or, as Isaiah said it, the wounds that heal (Isa. 53:5). But we are a people who know the suffering Servant.

To suffer is to be human—it’s part of living in this broken world—but because of the cross, we can suffer with hope. We may get scars for staying through hard times, and that’s OK. We can entrust them to Jesus because we know the healing that’ll come.