I sometimes write these posts as a sort of companion for the message on Sunday. We’re The Church, and that alone makes it obvious that it’s not simply an hour a week, a box checked off as “completed.” Each of our faith journeys are made up of a thousand small steps, each thought, each action, no matter how small. We are new creations, AND we’re becoming new creations; It’s immediate AND it’s a process.

So with all of that in mind, William Blake said, “We become what we behold.” Whether it’s today, this week, next Thursday, or next February, it’s important that we consider what we are beholding.

The things we consistently focus on, pay attention to, and consume eventually shape our thoughts, attitudes, character, and behavior. We are bombarded by constant messaging, what we regularly allow in eventually shapes us, shapes who we are. In the Bible, this process would be called transformation.

The political discourse in our country is nasty and consists of each side deeply etching lines separating “us” from “them.” “We” are, of course, right, and “they” are obviously wrong. Not only are they wrong, they’re monsters, sub-human. And when we dive into that water, immerse ourselves in that kind of rhetoric, we simply can’t help but begin to adopt those viewpoints. They are monsters. We are the informed, the educated, the smart ones, and they are…not.

Let’s say we go out after work on Thursdays for appetizers at a local restaurant, and the co-workers at our table spend that time venting about the management, their decisions, ethics, hairdos, and the shocking lack of communication. They also talk about how dangerously overworked and underpaid we all are. And let’s also say you haven’t really thought about it like that before that first night, maybe you like your job, maybe you even respect your boss. How many Thursdays until you start to see it their way, and join the cacophony of grumbling? Sadly, not as many as we think.

Now, I say “sadly” because, in this context, it is awfully depressing. We take on the characteristics of our environment, we become what we behold, and lots of times, our environment isn’t that awesome or positive or uplifting.

But what if it is?

What if we sit at a different table? And what if that table is singing a new song? What if this new table is honest about the truth, but also grateful? What if they are looking for solutions instead of making lists of the broken parts? And what if, instead of the right or left talk shows, we start asking questions and listening to the answers? What if we look at those who might disagree, not as hopelessly pathetic dummies, but instead as human beings who might have arrived at different conclusions? What if we asked why, or how? What if the voices we hear are voices of love and kindness?

What if the first thing we hear everyday is the ways we are valued and enough, instead of what we lack and how we’ll never be complete until we get that ____? What if we choose to input the beatitudes and the sermon on the mount before the video games or TikTok? (Did you notice? We’re not dreaming about eliminating video games or TikTok. We’re just reordering our priorities. We’re just reconsidering what gets to be first.)

Our design is our design, the principle works just the same. We become what we behold. Are we letting someone decide what we’re beholding? Or are we being intentional about the messages we receive? I know, I know, too often others choose our path, but maybe that hasn’t been working? Maybe we’re not that thrilled with this soul-numbing path that’s been paved for us? Maybe it’s time for the new, narrow path of the Gospel. If it is, maybe a new transformation all starts with waking up to what we are choosing to consume.