THE GOSPEL IN EL SEGUNDO
El Segundo. Even the name sounds like sunshine and palm trees. It’s a small city tucked right beside Los Angeles. It is the home of the headquarters and practice facility of the NBA’s Lakers, my favorite team in the world. I catch a lot of “heat” for that, especially living around Hawks fans. But I’ve been a Laker fan too long to change now. There’s something about that purple and gold that runs deep. When I have watched them play through the years—from the days of Magic and Kareem until the late, great Kobe Bryant—I think about excellence, teamwork, and legacy. The very qualities the Lord builds into those who walk with Him. The Christian life is not a solo act. It is a body moving in unity toward a shared victory (1 Corinthians 12:12).
The first time I ever heard the name El Segundo wasn’t from a map, but from Sanford and Son. Fred Sanford would throw that name around like it was just some made-up place out west. For years I thought it was only part of his act, one of those funny California names he’d toss in for flavor. I was well into my twenties before I realized it was a real city sitting right there in Los Angeles County. That taught me something: sometimes the things we laugh at, the things we assume are fiction, turn out to be real after all. In the same way, the gospel once sounded like a nice story to many—too good to be true. But then one day they realized it was true. The Lord Jesus had really come. He had really died for sinners. He had really risen again (1 Corinthians 15:3–4).
El Segundo doesn’t get the attention Los Angeles gets. Nobody’s writing songs about it. (Although in one episode, Fred did write a song called “I Left My Heart in El Segundo.” He was obsessed with the place). People aren’t generally flying in from across the world to see it. Yet it sits right there in the shadow of a giant city—steady, quiet, and full of life.
That’s how Bethany was in the days of Jesus. Jerusalem got all the attention. The temple stood tall and the crowds filled the streets. But Bethany—that small town just two miles away—was where the Lord found rest. It was there He was anointed for burial (Mark 14:3–9). It was there He raised Lazarus from the grave (John 11:43–44). It was there He spent His last nights before the cross (Matthew 21:17). The world looked at Jerusalem, but Jesus looked toward Bethany.
It’s amazing how often God hides His greatest treasures in small places. The Savior of the world was born in Bethlehem, not Rome, not Athens, not Jerusalem (Micah 5:2). He chose fishermen instead of scholars, shepherds instead of priests, a manger instead of a palace. The world keeps looking for greatness in noise and numbers, but the Lord works quietly in hearts that are humble and willing. “God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6).
Maybe you “feel like El Segundo.” Overshadowed by something larger, living in the shadow of someone else’s success. Maybe you’ve wondered if your little life matters. Remember Bethany. Remember the widow’s two mites (Mark 12:41–44). Remember that the Lord still measures worth not by size but by surrender. A cup of cold water given in His name carries eternal weight (Matthew 10:42).
While the world chases headlines, Jesus still walks the side streets. He still stops in quiet towns. He still visits ordinary people with extraordinary love. And when He comes, He leaves behind more than attention. He leaves transformation. So live faithfully where you are. Shine right there in your “El Segundo.” The Lord knows your address. He knows your name. He lives in your heart. And in His eyes, no place is too small for glory to bloom.
Bryan Dewayne Dunaway
