Having never had to wear glasses, it was quite a shock when, shortly after turning forty, I was suddenly having to extend my arms away from me to see clearly what it was that I was reading. Before I knew it, I not only had to wear glasses to read but was prescribed progressive lenses, also known as trifocals. Fortunately, I adjusted to this new reality rather quickly. However, I know that for others, it can be quite challenging to determine where to focus their eyes and how to tilt their head in relation to what they are trying to see or read. 

Beyond being able to read and navigate our daily lives with the assistance of physical glasses, we recognize that we all view the world through various cultural, religious, and political lenses. For better or worse, these lenses help us make sense of the world, guiding our values, assumptions, and affiliations. However, similar to the times when we are looking for our glasses while wearing them, we are often unaware of the nature of our sociological lenses and how they affect our interpretation of and interaction with the people and issues we encounter on a daily basis. 

As highlighted in Kris Flynn's article in this issue of the Central Beacon, CCC has been blessed for more than a decade by the talent and heart of our worship leader, Steve Duff. In addition to being an accomplished musician, Steve is also an excellent songwriter. Last year, Steve introduced our congregation to a worship song that he had recently composed – The Beauty of It All. Steve included this song in the worship set for the first Sunday of the new year, and being the last song of the set, I came up at the end to transition us to the next part of the service. As I did so, I was struck not only by the beauty of the song but more so by the invitation it extended to see and persistently seek the beauty of God, his creation and his purposes, especially in a time filled with so much doubt, darkness and division. At the moment, I asserted that The Beauty of It All should be our theme song for the year of our Lord 2025. This declaration seemed all the more appropriate as we had just completed a contentious election cycle and were on the cusp of a governmental transition fraught with anticipation and anxiety.

Little did we know that in just two days, the LA fires would reduce whole communities in Los Angeles County to rubble and ash, adding to the fear and anxiety of local and global catastrophes from inflation, disasters, war and deep political and social division. In many ways, these are dark and often ugly times, and one wonders where and how we find beauty amid the carnage. 

However, let's take a step back from the headlines of dread, our often combative social media streams and our immediate personal worries. We can't help but acknowledge that the universe, including our little blue planet, is filled with beauty and wonder, notwithstanding all the ways we have exploited and exhausted creation and the creative gifts God has given us. Beauty truly is all around and within each of us, but we have to choose to observe and pursue the good and the beautiful as an act of resistance against the evil and the ugly. Significantly, this happens much more locally and personally than at an organizational or governmental level.

With the return of Donald Trump to the Whitehouse, the always contentious issues of immigration and control of our national borders have taken on renewed urgency. Who should be allowed to enter and stay in the US, accusations of large numbers of criminals crossing our borders illegally and allegations of family separations and unmerited deportations have fueled passions and protests on both sides of the issue. Of particular concern, is the empowerment of federal agents to enter schools and houses of worship to search for and detain alleged illegal immigrants. 

The words of Emma Lazarus' poem, The New Colossus, memorialized on a plaque on the wall of the pedestal on which the Statue of Liberty stands, continue to confront and confound us as a nation:  

"Give me your tired, your poor, 
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, 
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. 
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, 
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" 

It seems a particular section of the American population would prefer to repudiate the sentiment of Lazarus' poem altogether, opting instead for higher walls and increasing restrictions on all forms of immigration. On the other hand, some argue that the United States of America is a nation of immigrants and that our country continues to be strengthened by a vibrant immigrant population while recognizing the need for a comprehensive, strategic immigration policy. 

It's above my pay grade and beyond my expertise and experience to offer much advice on the politics and policies of our nation's immigration system. However, as a Christian and a pastor, I believe I have the duty and the opportunity to remind us of the Bible's perspective and Jesus' teaching on the issue of relating to foreigners and strangers. Federal laws set the parameters of the nation's border policy. As followers of Jesus and people of the Book, we answer to a higher law – a kingdom of God ethic – as taught and modeled by Jesus regarding how we as individuals and bodies of believers respond to our neighbors from other nations and cultures. 

My wife, Rhonda, and I recently had the privilege of cruising through the Greek islands with close friends. While on the beach on the island of Rhodes, I decided to try to take some underwater pictures with my cell phone. When I declared my intention, my friends stated: Your phone can do that! At least, that's what I heard.

So, with the confidence of my desire and my friends' affirmation (so I thought), I marched into the water, stuck the camera end of my phone under the surface and snapped a picture – and it worked! Thus further encouraged, I dipped my phone again into the beautifully blue Mediterranean Sea for another shot – only this time, my phone made a weird buzzing sound, a jagged green line shot across the screen and my phone shut down, never to be operational again. As I returned to Rhonda and our friends, lamenting that I had damaged my phone, probably beyond repair, they expressed amazement at what I had done. But you said my phone could take underwater pictures! I cried. To which they replied, what we said was: Your phone can do that? Implying their serious doubt about my phone's underwater capabilities.

This funny and embarrassing story is a perfect example of hearing what we want to hear in order to affirm an action or pursue a desired goal. In my excitement to capture the beauty of the underwater world I was experiencing, I latched on to anything – no matter how dubious – that bolstered my desire and confirmed my intention.

I do this with Google Maps, too, which I use regularly. While utilizing Maps, I frequently have it in my head which direction to turn next. And even though I hear the Google voice stating loud and clear, In 200 feet, turn left; I turn right, fully convinced that I am following Google's directions.