This, Our Valley: It has been a fun journey

"Give ear O heavens and I will speak; let the earth hear the words of my mouth, for I will proclaim the Name of the Lord, and ascribe greatness to our God.” Excerpted from Deuteronomy 32

There is a story in the bible about a woman who loses a tiny coin at home. She throws open the windows and doors, lights a lamp, and sweeps the floor until she finds her poor, lost coin. Upon finding it she runs outside and throws a neighborhood block party in celebration.

It is an extravagant act for finding something that was easily worth far less than a block party. But it wasn’t the value of the coin that thrilled her; it was being made whole again. She couldn’t NOT invite her community to join her in celebration, for joy shared is joy multiplied! “God’s world is like that,” says Jesus.

This, Our Valley was born around 2007 in the little town of Madera California. Chuck Doud was the owner/publisher of a small daily newspaper there (the Madera Tribune). He and his wife Annette were also friends and parishioners at Holy Family where I was the rector, the “priest in charge.” 

Chuck wanted to add a faith and values column to his paper to help bring balance to the heavier, weightier news of the day – something to counter the war on terror, the bursting housing bubble, a growing recession, devastation falling upon the agricultural community in the San Joaquin Valley – so he asked me if I would be willing to help him out.

I knew nothing about writing newspaper columns and wasn’t sure how I could connect “faith” to his readers without preaching or proselytizing them. Don’t get me wrong. I love my Lord and my God. I love my church and how God has nourished and nurtured me over the decades. But I also know there are many “brands” of Christianity “out there” (not to mention many other faiths, religions, philosophies – and an increasing number of folks who live beyond the walls of any faith community). I didn’t want to be controversial or divisive.

Chuck suggested I was overthinking it. “You’ve got insights and lived experiences that can be helpful to my readers. Just share yourself with them and you’ll do just fine.”

So that’s where it started. 

When the church moved us to Montana in 2012 I asked the folks at the Madisonian if they might be willing to publish my columns every other week here too (alternating with Art Kehler’s Hollowtop Smoke Signals). Graciously, Suzanne Hill said, “Yes.” And so here I’ve been sharing bits and pieces of my life since about 2013.

My goal has always been to share some of what is happening in my life in hopes others would see themselves in those stories and discover for themselves that life is good and, in the end, everything will be OK. 

While our world often dabbles in finding and complaining about areas with which we may disagree, argue or fight over like a few mangy mutts wrestling over some old bone, we’re really all neighbors striving to make our way in a world that is often cold, dark, and scary. 

Together, we are light, like the trail of bio-luminescent plankton churned up in the wake of a large ship. We don’t just show the path; we are the path – something  like Jesus, in whose sandals we travel.

Life may churn us every which way but loose, but God uses those events and situations to help us grow. As the bible says in another place, “What some intended for evil, God uses for good.” 

I’ve been writing these biweekly columns for seventeen, going on eighteen years. The time has come to hang up my quill and put This, Our Valley to bed.  It is time to open this space for others to fill with their wisdom, their insights, their hopes and dreams.

It has been an honor to have been a part of this journey with all of you. I thank Chuck Doud for setting me on this path, Suzanne Hill for saying “Yes,” and Cori Koenig for her gentle touch as editor. I thank my readers, too, for your kindness and patience over the years. 

I hope and pray each of you will see this not as a departure or retirement, but an opportunity to party down in joy, and know that all is well, and all will be well here in this, God’s valley.

It has been a genuine honor sharing life with each of you. Peace.

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)

This, Our Valley What might foreigners teach us?

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Hebrews 11:1

What a weekend, eh? Time changed early Sunday morning. The World Series reached its conclusion. Trick or Treaters across the land did their thing on Friday night. Many churches celebrated All Saints and/or All Souls Day on Sunday (they are two different days on liturgical calendars). Spanish language congregations celebrated El dios de los muertos (Day of the Dead), remembering friends and family members who have died. 

I confess the Hispanic approach to All Saints always baffled me, but that’s because their culture is foreign to my own. I’m an American, but my heritage is Swedish. We’re a quiet people. We don’t make too much fuss about things. “The sun rose and the sun went to bed. Jah, it was a gute day,” is about as expansive as my Scandinavian forebears would get in “describing” their day. 

It’s not that we Swedes are bored or boring; it’s just that we don’t like to inflict ourselves on others. Our Viking ancestors learned a long time ago that people didn’t like it when they showed up, so “we” stopped showing up. Oh sure, I know it was more the burning and pillaging that irritated folks, but still, we know when we’re not wanted, so we leave things be, and we’re a lot happier for it.

Finns and Scandinavians are reported to be amongst the happiest people on earth (the mouse kingdom lies about how happy THEIR world is). That’s because we leave others alone. We let others have their opinions. And if they’re wrong? Let them be wrong!.

And if they’re right? What then? We keep our mouths shut: look, listen, and learn. What a concept!

I can’t begin to list all the things Americans get wrong about Halloween (that would be impolite and unScandinavian of me), for instance. But I can say I do like the Mexican approach to the season, celebrating and honoring those who came before, sharing stories and joyous anecdotes, building home altars upon which and around which offerings (ofrendas) are made and which include the four elements of earth (bread), water (pitcher), fire (candles), and wind (paper banners) – gifts for their ancestors. 

It seems strange that we of northern European descent tend to glom onto the more macabre, grim, “John Brown’s body lies a-moldering in the grave” approach to the season, whereas our Mexican siblings find it a time to celebrate the lives of the saints, known and unknown. Of the two approaches, I am much more at home with the first, but find the second much more enlightened and faithful to my own religious tradition – as people of the resurrection.

For us, life is not ended in death, but changed. So why do we Anglos focus so much on death, blood, horror, undead zombies, and the like? Why don’t we focus, like our Mexican brethren, on the lives of those who have gone before us, and who go before us, and who prepare the way before us? 

Why don’t we take time to talk more productively about those we miss, those whose lives impacted our own in significant ways, who have died? Have we gotten so wrapped up in trick or treating, costumes, and candies that we have forgotten what the days and seasons are about?

I spend too much time trapped in my own little world, my own little problems, my own myopic perspective of life and living. It’s nice to see, explore, and ponder what other folks do, and learn what they have to offer us, to teach us. When something strikes us as strange, it’s good to stop, to sound a note of curiosity (“Hey, what’s that you’re doing?) and dig into what it means.

What’s the best way to approach Spooky Day in America? That’s up to you. I have no plans to pillage and burn the homes of those who disagree. After all, I could be wrong. 

What I will do, however, is continue to stop and ask questions, for that’s how we learn here in this, our valley. Let’s give thanks to God for the saints in our lives. May your ofrendas always be sweet!

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)

All Saints Sunday: The kingdom of God is Ours!

Daniel 7:1-3,15-18

Psalm 149

Ephesians 1:11-23

Luke 6:20-31

Collect: Almighty God, you have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son Christ our Lord: Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living, that we may come to those ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly love you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.

Give ear O heavens, and I will speak; let the earth hear the words of my mouth, 

for I will proclaim the Name of the Lord, and ascribe greatness to our God.

I’ve been thinking about David’s sermon from last week. We had the parable of the tax collector and the Pharisee, and rather than point the fickle finger of fate at the Pharisee and say, “You know where he’s going!” David suggested we stand in the shoes of both the publican and the Pharisee and ask ourselves the question: Where am I on this continuum? 

In what ways am I like the Pharisee? Even when we thank God we’re not a hypocrite like THAT, we discover that’s precisely what we are!

When we look at the tax collector, the collaborator, the traitor, with eyes downcast, not daring to look up towards the altar, towards heaven, he beat his breast and cried, “Woe is me, a sinner.”   David asked, in what ways are we like that? Do you think it was an honest prayer, or do you wonder if he wasn’t feigning humility?

Have you ever done that? Feigned humility?

I do. I make every effort to let others go first at coffee hour, because clergy are supposed to bring up the rear. That’s where we are in the procession. Have you ever noticed that? We bring up the rear, to embody our humility. So when the bishop comes to visit, the bishop takes that last place in the procession, and I find myself just a little miffed. “What are they doing in my spot?”

But that’s the way we are. Pride, humility, all mixed up. Devils one moment, saints the next.

And I say this, not to shame us, but to point out the reality of our lives.

I like how David helped us take a look at the scriptures with new eyes, fresh eyes; listening with new ears, fresh ears.

Because so often we hear and see these same stories day in and day out, week in and week out, year in and year out that our eyes tend to glaze over and our ears plug up.

That’s dangerous, because then we’re tempted to think we know it all, we’ve heard it all, we’ve seen it all. And we haven’t.

As Jesus says elsewhere (Mark 4:12), 

“I speak in parables (in order that) folks may look but not perceive, and may indeed hear but not understand; lest they turn and be forgiven.”

It’s not that Jesus didn’t want folks to change, but to shake them out of their complacency. 

“We know what the Law says,” they said. Torah. The Law. Love God. Honor the Sabbath. Don’t murder, don’t steal, … blah blah blah, yada, yada, yada.”

The danger is complacency. If you know it all, you can’t be taught. You can’t learn. As the Buddha might have said, “You cannot pour fresh hot tea into a cup until you have first poured out the swill that’s in that cup.”

If he didn’t say it, he should have!

So, following David’s lead, I want to take a quick glance at the Gospel for today, because it would be very easy to dismiss it as just a bunch of hooey or wishful thinking.

I mean, 

• Blessed are you who are poor? Yeah, right.

• Blessed are you who are hungry? In your dreams!

• Blessed are you who weep? Hey; Toronto lost. Who says there’s no crying in baseball? Blessed are you who weep? Says who!?

Jesus says these outrageous things, but they’re only outrageous if we’re not paying attention; if we’re not listening; if we’re not looking.

Blessed are you who are poor?

Why?

Because the kingdom of God is yours! 

Don’t think of the kingdom of God as a possession, the way we might think of a car, or house, or cellphone. 

The kingdom of God is the world in which we live and move and have our being. When we are unencumbered by our stuff, we are free to actually look around and see what God is doing and, more than that, see where God is leading us.

We are in that great unsettled time of transition between the priest who was and the one who is to come. In some ways we are like the disciples of John the Baptist who secretly come to Jesus  and ask him, “Are you the one, or shall we look for another.”

John is in prison, and one of the jobs for the Messiah is to proclaim release to the captives. They’re talking in code: “Are you the one who will set John free, or will someone else do it?”

Remember how Jesus answers? He says, “Go tell John what you have seen and heard. The blind see, the lame walk, those with disease are made clean, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news delivered to them … blessed are those who take no offense at me.”

There’s that word again, “the poor.” And did you notice what’s missing in that list of things Jesus was doing? “No offense,” says Jesus, “but releasing prisoners isn’t on the list.”

It’s not that Jesus doesn’t care, but sometimes there’s just nothing we can do. I can’t do everything, but there are things I can do, and that’s where God has called me to go, and what God has called me to do.

Blessed are the poor, for the kingdom of heaven truly is theirs, truly is ours.

Jesus also lists some woes, and I want to invite you to hear them differently.

I have to confess that whenever I have gone over the list of woes, I have done so with sadistic delight:

• Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation!

• Woe to you who are full, for you will know hunger!

• Woe to you who laugh now, for you will weep and wail and gnash your teeth!

• Woe to you when folk speak well of you, for that’s what your ancestors did to the false prophets (and you can see where it got them)!

I mean, when I say it that way, it sounds more like Snidely Whiplash than Jesus Christ, doesn’t it?

But there is another way to hear the woes; there’s another way to speak them.

When Jesus approached Jerusalem, remember how sorrowful he became? 

Luke 19:41 And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, 42 saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. 43 For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side 44 and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.”

Jesus wept for the city. In another place he says he wishes he could gather up the people like a hen gathers her chicks. That’s not an angry heart. That’s a loving heart, and I think that’s the heart of Jesus as he lists the woes.

It’s not the finger shaking, “Oh you scalliwags! I’m going to get you, and Toto, too!”

No, it’s, “Oh I wish you could see how much good you could do if you opened your hearts. Oh how I wish you could see how much good you could do if you would open your pantries. Oh how I wish you could help others find the things that bring you joy, or peace, or comfort. But you would not. You prefer to clench your fist than open your hand, your heart – how sad!”

Like the characters in The Great Gatsby, the rich eat, drink, and make merry, and they don’t care what kind of mess they make of things or of lives, or what trail of destruction they leave behind, because they just want to have fun – and they have people – underlings – to clean up the mess.

Jesus weeps for them. They don’t see it. But the kingdom is all around them, too, if they would just take the time to look.

“And I want you to do that, too,” says Jesus. “The kingdom of God is here. It’s all around you. And you all know what to do, don’t you? If someone’s hungry, you feed them. If they’re thirsty, you give them to drink. If they’re cold, you give them a coat. If they’re lonely, you visit them. If they’re in prison, don’t break them out, but you make a home for them when they’re released.”

And here’s the kicker. Jesus says, “You’ve got this. We’ve got this.” 

Jesus knows it. As we heard in Ephesians (1:11-23): we are the treasure God has inherited; As we read in the Psalm (149:7): God takes delight in [God]’s people! God’s not a finger-shaker. God’s a lover. God doesn’t give scorpions, but eggs. God doesn’t spank, but gives hugs!

Today we’re celebrating All Saints. We’re remembering all of the people who have touched our lives. I love the Ofrendas back there. I love the tradition of setting up an altar where folks can bring their offerings (that’s what “ofrendas” means), incorporating the four elements of life: Earth, Wind, Fire, Water. 

You know, as Anglicans, we’re part of a tradition that sees the darkness, that hunts & burns witches, that is scared of ghosts and goblins and things that go bump in the night. 

Our brothers and sisters from Mexico and the Latina/Latino world seem to have a much healthier appreciation for what we SAY we believe, that for us, life is not ended, but changed. I love the light of the candles, the vibrance of the marigolds, how the ofrendas include the three stages of heaven, earth, and the underworld, and how all are connected; I love how the elements are woven, not only there, but all around us.

I hope and pray that you and I will take some time during this service and throughout the day to not just listen to the names of our saints as they are offered to God during the Eucharist, but to see the faces of those saints as we hear their names.

They were, and are, a blessing to God. They were, and are, a blessing to us. And Jesus says, through their witness, we can be a blessing to God and to the world as well. Why?

Because the kingdom of God is ours, and we are the Ofrendas God is presenting to the world. Demos gracias a Dios (Thanks be to God)! 

Luke 6:20-31

Jesus looked up at his disciples and said:

“Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.

“Blessed are you who are hungry now,
for you will be filled.

“Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.

“Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets."

"But woe to you who are rich,
for you have received your consolation.

"Woe to you who are full now,
for you will be hungry.

"Woe to you who are laughing now,
for you will mourn and weep.

"Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.

"But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you.

Sermon delivered by the Rev. Keith F. Axberg to St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Mount Vernon, WA on All Saints Sunday, November 2, 2025