Have you ever wondered why there have been more comic-book superhero movies showing up in the theatres than almost anything else? Are there any superheroes left to be wooed into the movies? Maybe Aquaman, or my favourite, the Flaming Carrot (yes there really is a Flaming Carrot).

“The Dark Knight” and “Ironman” were the biggest blockbusters of this past summer and the Hulk seems to have redeemed himself as well—despite his unwillingness to practice anger management. Batman, alone, has made a billion dollars since its release. Obviously superhero movies are made because they make money, but why are superhero movies watched?

Part of the attraction, I think, is simply that our society is afraid. Our culture has become a culture of fear. Fear seems to be everywhere. Listen to the news and you’ll find fear behind every story. Fear of the unknown. Fear of terrorism. Fear of global warming. Fear of job security. Fear of a failing economy. In a nutshell, we feel out of control and that scares us.

So, we want a hero that can rescue us. We want happy endings. We want to know someone is still fighting the bad guys. We want to know that, no matter how dangerous or how big the threat is, someone can still restore order. And, since no one really feels that way in real life, we go to the movies.

It has become increasingly difficult to be unaffected by the culture of fear. It surrounds us. We feel ill at ease. We worry too much. We think too much. We speculate too much and our imaginations repeatedly focus on a long list of ‘what ifs’.

Ten or fifteen years ago, we hardly ever heard of anxiety or panic disorders, but now these conditions are common, if not epidemic. I want you to think about this seriously for a moment—have you experienced some sense of fear, anxiety, or worry recently? I was afraid you’d say that!
As Christians, what do we do with all this fear? When the world seems so chaotic, dark, and dangerous what do we do?

One of my all-time favourite passages in the Old Testament is found in Isaiah 6. Isaiah writes about his commissioning as a prophet: “In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe filled the temple” (Isaiah 6:1).

King Uzziah had reigned in Israel for fifty years. By all accounts, his rule brought stability and a time of tremendous prosperity and growth. For as long as anyone could remember life had been good, but now the king was dead. For the first time in fifty year massive change was on everyone’s mind. What was going to happen? Could they weather this storm? Was life, as they knew it, over?

As you read on in Isaiah 6, the vision of God only seems to bring more anxiety to Isaiah (v. 5), but ultimately nothing can be further from the truth. Isaiah’s vision of God seated on His throne in the Temple may have shaken him to the core, but it also put everything else into perspective. King Uzziah may have died but the Eternal King was alive and well. On the one hand, life was completely different, but on the other hand nothing had changed—because God was still on His throne.

Paul, speaking of Jesus, reminds us that: “… by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him. 17 He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” (Colossians 1:16-17)

Is your life ruled by fear? Do your worries worry you? Is “panic” your middle name? Do bully’s kick sand in your face and steal your girl? Forget the superheroes and focus on the One who has already defeated the biggest villain of all. If Jesus is the one who is holds all things together, don’t you think He can hold you together as well?

Things can get a bit scary, that’s expected and it’s what having faith is all about, but God remains on His throne. Why not turn off the news and tune in to a clearer vision of God? Make the only secure investment there is—invest yourself in the unshakeable, unchanging, eternal plans of God.

I have a confession to make-I am a scavenger of beauty. I hunt beauty down (with my camera) and capture it in the most unlikely places. I do this because I have a theology that tells me that finding beauty is more about attitude than it is about the eye.

I have always loved the beach. True, you expect to find beauty at the beach, unless Speedos and hairy backs are in abundant supply, but still- the water, the surf, the shoreline, the driftwood, the soothing sounds and smells-that’s beauty. What I have noticed, though, since I have frequented several of Toronto’s beaches is that many of them are covered with what can only be considered construction waste. We are talking about bricks, concrete slabs, bits of broken tile, and even asphalt. They do this in areas where erosion is a problem.

This isn’t the kind of shoreline you would expect to find in most places. Neither is it the kind of shoreline you would really WANT to find in most places. After all, I don’t think asphalt is on anyone’s list of beautiful things, but look at the photo that accompanies this article. You may not be impressed by this bit of shoreline, but to me this collection of colours and shapes is uniquely beautiful. Look at the bright reds and the creamy yellows of the brick. Check out the flecks of yellow and white in the concrete. Notice how the individual pieces have been moulded and shaped into beautiful curves and orbs. The hard edges are gone. The utilitarian shapes have given way to free flowing arcs of grace. The manmade is still evident, but it clearly has become something more than what man can make.

What is the cause of this transformation? I could talk about how each of these diamonds in the rough was kissed by the elements. That sounds romantic, but the reality is that it’s all about friction. It’s about being on the front lines where you are hit hard by the wind and waves. It’s about being exposed to the pressures and influences that rub and grind the rough edges away and turn the utilitarian into graceful works of art.

I want you to think about this the next time you have a conflict in your life, or the next time you think about leaving your church because of “those difficult people”. I want you to think about this the next time you’re laughed at for sharing your faith, or the next time you make a sacrifice that goes unnoticed. God uses the difficulties found in our relationships to take off our rough edges and shape us into something more graceful. He uses the friction that comes into our lives to erode the manmade and reveal the divine.

James explains this process with these words: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4)

One of my pet peeves in ministry is the advent of what I call the Honeymoon Christian. I have learned to spot them a mile away. They come to your church and gush over how they like this and how they love that. They enjoy that brief period of time when, for them, your church still has that “new-congregation smell”. Then the friction comes. There’s something they don’t like, or something with which they don’t agree. There is their first conflict. Or maybe it’s just the first time they are asked to serve or give or sacrifice. The honeymoon is over and off they go- not willing to deal with the friction. That’s why they stay manmade with all their hard edges intact. They short-circuit their growth because when the wind blows and the waves start to rise, they run for a safe harbour and no reshaping takes place.

Life is tough. We all want to give up sometimes. Occasionally, we all want to go somewhere else or do something else. We all get “the grass is greener on the other side of the fence syndrome”, but don’t give up. Persevere! Realize that giving up or moving on isn’t the answer. God wants you on the front lines of your congregation. He wants you on the front lines of your neighbourhoods, your workplaces, your schools. He knows that being there creates a lot of friction, but that friction is protecting our world from further erosion and it’s also shaping you into something more graceful, something with greater humility-a vessel with a great capacity for His love.

Finding beauty is more about the attitude than the eye. Persevere and you’ll find the beauty, and bonus of bonuses, you’ll become more beautiful yourself!