In the haze of a cultural battlefield, the church is struggling to decide whether to speak louder or love deeper. In a world that perceives complicated issues only in black and white, churches often mirror that mindset, choosing one calling and neglecting the other.

This past summer, I traveled to Jordan for the first time since I was a child. I was brimming with excitement in the months leading up to the trip, wrapping up my second semester of college while daydreaming about seeing family for the first time in over a decade and walking the streets I only remembered through faded memories and old photos. But what was supposed to be a trip about roots and reconnection became a reminder of the fragility of peace.

In a world that’s more politically charged than ever, sometimes holiday dinner tables can feel more like war zones and conversations turn into cross-examinations. Between outdated political beliefs and an influx of propaganda, it frequently feels like the weight of changing our parents’ beliefs falls on us, making holidays seem more like interventions.

Despite the addictive nature of phones, there is a solution to the ever-consuming algorithm — a better way to educate oneself, to engage in critical thought and expand one’s worldview. I propose returning to the original form of entertainment, the humble paperback book.

I had a routine every morning. I’d turn on the light, get out of bed, make my bed, put on my clothes, go to the bathroom and head downstairs. This routine was so ingrained in me that I could literally do it in my sleep, and I know this because I did so multiple times.

It’s so easy to blame the phone, but the truth is, the phone isn’t forcing us to do anything. It’s our own habits that are out of control. Technology is neutral; it becomes what we make of it.