We continue our Advent journey in preparation for Holy Christmas but when we think of the realities marred by war and destruction, poverty and hunger, injustice and power struggle we keep trying to make sense of this horror and sometimes it seems impossible to find it.

The Testimony of Reverend Father Jad Chebly SJ that we present today comes to you from Lebanon and is a beautiful reflection that guides us to find the answers to the too many “whys’” that crowd our minds and to discover how much faith there is in the desolation.

Carla Bellone
Assistant Secretary for the Service of Faith


As Christmas and the New Year approach, we find ourselves struggling to make sense of things: how can we believe in a God who became flesh to bring peace when our daily lives are plagued by bombs and explosions? How can we worship Emmanuel when everything around us suggests God has abandoned us? How can we rejoice amidst destruction and death?

These legitimate questions compel us to reflect on the true meaning of Christmas: why did God become flesh? In seeking answers, we turn to those who first welcomed Him—Mary and Joseph, the Shepherds, and the Magi. Their journeys were not just inner transformations but physical undertakings. They left their homes and lives behind to arrive at Bethlehem, where God entered the world.

Joseph and Mary, forced to Bethlehem by a governor’s decree, transformed this constraint into an opportunity for life. They went there to welcome Emmanuel. The Shepherds, trapped in the monotony of endless, dark nights, found light in the voices of angels. These voices pierced the silence, breaking their routine and calling them to leave behind a meaningless present to meet the One who transcends time.

The Magi, following an unexpected star, set off on a journey of faith, not knowing where it would lead. At the end of their adventure, they found Him—small and fragile—offering them every adventure imaginable.

Finding God in all things is profoundly challenging in times of war. The suffering of the displaced families in Lebanon reveals the depths of human vulnerability and the stark absence of justice. Yet, paradoxically, it is in this crucible of pain that faith becomes most tangible. In helping displaced families from the South settle in Bikfaya (a town in Mount Lebanon), I witnessed that those who have lost everything often discover that faith is all they truly possess.

Like Mary and Joseph, we endure decisions made by higher authorities and live amid wars and violence we did not choose. Forced from our homes, we become refugees, stripped even of the comfort of our beds. And yet, it is in this exile that we can truly welcome Emmanuel.

The Jesuit mission invites us to see God not only in consolation but also in desolation. It calls us to walk hand-in-hand with the marginalized, to stand where suffering is greatest, and to reflect God’s presence through love in action. Among those who have never known freedom, equality, or peace, our mission is not to provide easy answers but to embody a living testimony of hope and solidarity.

Like the Shepherds, we are called into the darkness of our nights by voices that through the deathly, ghastly silence lead us to Life. Like the Magi, we embark on journeys through uncertainty and doubt, navigating paths paved with insecurity. It is precisely here, in vulnerability and fragility, that He appears to embrace us in our weakness.

By walking alongside the wounded, sharing in their burdens, and working for their dignity, we embody a faith that does justice. In such moments, finding God in all things is no longer a sheerly theological concept—it is a lived experience of discovering His presence even in the midst of chaos and despair.

War is a relentless cycle of darkness, uncertainty, and violence. Yet it is within this turmoil that the love of the One who longs to be with us is revealed. Stripped of all else, we yearn to meet Him, our refuge and shelter.