Christmas in the Valley

“Mary quietly treasured all these things in her heart and thought about them often.” Luke 2:19

For the past several weeks my wife, Barb, and I have been pulling things out of the attic with which to decorate our home for the holidays.

Some, we just pull out and put up without much thought. I have one of those (don’t stone me!) trees that goes up in about five minutes; the sections plug together, and the plug goes into a timer and – voila – a tree that lights up right where we want it, and when we want it.

That does seem to run against the grain for we wilderness types (using the term “we” very broadly), but it was forced upon us by circumstances far beyond our control. When we moved to Michigan back in the 1990s, we bought our annual Christmas tree at a tree lot a few blocks from our house. We got it home and set it up, and as the silly thing thawed out, it rained needles. It didn’t sprinkle needles; it was more of a tsunami of piney pokers. By morning, we had the skeletal remains of a tree and a deep dark green carpet comprised of fine noble fir detritus.

Aargh! It was late in the season (our tradition was to put the tree up a week to ten days before Christmas, but we had been delayed by work and the hustle and bustle of the season til just a day or so before Christmas). What to do? We hit the mall and ran into Sears, where everything was sold out except for one floor model artificial tree. We didn’t care. We bought it on the spot, dragged the pieces home in garbage bags (they couldn’t find the box), set it up, threw on the lights, balls, and holy doodads and called it a year! We were done.

Well, it wasn’t natural, but it worked. It lasted about 20 years, or 140 in doggie years, but we finally found it a new home and bought a replacement tree with the lights built in, and I will admit, I’ve never regretted it. When it goes up, I have no nicks or cuts, I have no sap gumming up my clothes (or hands) for next three seasons, and best of all, I have no needle trails making the indoors look like the outdoors.

It is pulling these treasures out little by little that I wanted to talk about. A few go up without much thought, but there is a story behind most of them.

There is the mouse angel (a Little Cheeser) that started us off on a decades-long hunt for the rest of the set pieces (making up my favorite nativity set). Silly as it sounds, it reminds me: Cheeses Saves!

There’s the Nutcracker our son gave us so the other nutcracker wouldn’t get lonely; there’s the “I Love You” ornament our daughter made at the school for the deaf; there’s the hollow egg upon which a parishioner painted the holy family, star, and manger – that has survived for nearly thirty years and Lord only knows how many moves; and a wax angel ornament we received from another parishioner that has survived more than two decades, despite our moves and the summer’s heat in central California.

We pull these out and we can’t help but stop, look, and ponder the love that has been packed into all these things.

One could argue they are only things, but they aren’t. They are treasures, precious and dear. Even if fire or thief were to take them away, the memories would arise from the ashes. They aren’t the same, of course, but they are just as real.

When Jesus was born, we are told his mama listened to the songs of the angels and the tales of the shepherds and “she treasured all these things in her heart.”

As we have pulled our treasures out of the attic, garage, closets, or sheds this season, I hope that you will have joined me in taking some time to ponder the mysteries of the child who was born for us. May you find Joy in your stockings, Peace under your trees, Hope in your hearts, and Love in your homes. Merry Christmas to all of you in this, our valley – and beyond.

Advent in the Valley

“Be prepared, for the Lord is coming!” Matthew 24:42

Watch. Wait. Stay awake! These are the watchwords of Advent.

The past several columns I’ve talked about my desire for a more safe, sane, and holy month leading up to Christmas. At our community choir holiday concert at St. Paul’s, in Virginia City, I explained to the audience that for the world “out there” this is the Christmas season – a time of shopping and celebration – but for the world “in here” (inside the confines of the church) it is the Season of Advent.

Advent is a season of patient anticipation. In some ways, Christmas can be more special when we don’t jump the gun. We can approach the birth of Christ thoughtfully, meditatively, deliberately. How many people start singing happy birthday to one another a month or two in advance of the actual birthday?

I’m not such a stick in the mud that I cringe at the Yule-tide shenanigans of the season around the community. Winter is dark and dreary, so it’s delightful joining in and working with the community choir to provide seasonal cheer in voice and song. A goodly number of hearty souls came out to enjoy the concerts in the minus double digit temperatures that hit the region really hard this year. For that, I am thankful!

We are part of a community, and participating in activities that warm hearts and minds is important. I’m glad we could do that, and especially glad that people put the community service over a Thursday Night football game – or whatever else might have kept them more sanely indoors. One will never confuse the talents of the local community choir with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, but we came together, we sang and celebrated, and then we feasted, and that was enough.

No, the world goes crazy this time of year, and that’s OK. It is the insanity of the human race that really explains why God bothered to send us more than a greeting card – or a Cease-and-Desist order, for that matter.

For millennia, God tried a number of things to help restore sanity to the world, but after Adam and Eve’s bungle in the jungle (and consequent ejection from the Game-Preserve), things just went down-hill fast.

God could have left us alone to our own devices, but we just seem to prefer the vices. During the time of Noah God put us into the wash and rinse cycle, but that didn’t seem to work either. None of us, it seems, is wrinkle free!

God laid down the law with Moses, and while it gave us some structure and parameters within which to work, we still don’t get it. It seems we’re pretty good at looking for and finding loopholes.

“Love your neighbor?” Sure, I can do that. Here are the three people on my Neighbor List. Everyone else: Watch out!

“Do not covet”? No problem. I will just borrow the money I need to buy the stuff you have that I want (whether I need it or not) – and then it’s not coveting because I’ll already have it, so there!

God tried religion, and do I really need to lay out how THAT has worked out over the past few millennia?

Ironically, the purpose of religion is to unite. The root word is “lig” (as in ligature or ligament). But we clever humans use it as a bone of contention.

The point of law is to bring order out of chaos, but it turns out that is more like nailing jelly to a hot wall. There is a law of physics (the second law of thermodynamics) that simply points out the propensity of everything to decay in time.

So, since law and religion don’t seem to be very effective in changing the world for the better, God sent his Son into the world to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves. This is the essence of the Christmas story. And we can’t get it all on one day of the year, or even in a month of manic berserkery or miracles on 34^th Street.

We get it by quieting down, waiting, watching, and staying alert. Advent. It’s a good word. It means the Adventure is about to begin, and I’m excited to be a part of it here in this, our valley.

Blowhards in the Valley

“You are the salt of the earth … the light of the world.” Matthew 5

I stepped out of the car the other day to run into the post office to grab my mail when the wind blew my hat off my head and across the parking lot.

That was most disconcerting as my hat and head generally stay connected unless I intend otherwise. Further, as much as the wind blows around these parts, I can’t remember the last time it was able to blow my hat off. I will admit there is less to hold it on these days. Still, I didn’t put it on my head to have some blow-hard knock it off and make me go chase after it!

But, that’s life. We must stay ever vigilant. There are powers at work over which we have no control.

Take Thanksgiving, for instance. By an act of Congress we are called to order on the fourth Thursday of November and commanded to give thanks for all the blessings that have been bestowed upon us. That causes me to wonder, though: If we are so thankful for all we have, why do so many go out the day after (or the evening of) the Thanksgiving holiday to buy so much more?

If we are truly thankful, does it make sense to trample one another for the sake of being the first into the store, or one of the lucky few to grab hold of the season’s “hottest” new “must-have”?

Every year it is the same thing. We gather, we feast, and then we join the brotherhood and sisterhood of National Berserkers for a month of berserkery.

I mentioned last time that it is my desire this year to make things different. I really want to experience the holiday season this time ‘round the block in a completely holy and wholesome fashion.

The down side, if there is one, is that it may not “feel” like Christmas if one isn’t going bonkers.

What’s the fun, you may ask, in putting up a string of lights and a wreath on the house that doesn’t throw the nation’s electrical grid into an emergency overdrive?

What’s the fun, you may ask, of walking through the house where every other ornament and decoration doesn’t break out into song or season’s greetings?

What’s the fun, you may ask, of bringing out just a few holy treasures to help one focus on the birth of Messiah?

Do we dare live a month without Frosty and Friends? Will Santa really get lost if Rudolph isn’t there to guide his sleigh? Will the world really stop turning if we leave some (or most) of our seasonal junk in those storage tubs out in the garage, shed, or storage room?

The fun, I think, might be found in taking charge of the holiday – and not vice versa. The holiday season will blow through like it always does, and people will become stranger than normal, as they always do this time of year.

But for me, it will be enough to simply keep my head. If I can keep my hat on too, that’ll be oh so sweet. How to take charge, though; there’s the rub.

In his great Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says we are the salt of the earth. Salt was quite valuable in Jesus’ day. People were often paid in salt. The word salary comes from the word salt. Jesus seems to be saying that it is we (human beings) who are of great value. It isn’t our money or possessions, but we ourselves.

Maybe if we spent more time spicing up our community with peace, joy, and goodwill towards all – being salt – and less time being combative or assaultive, the world would be a bit more pleasant for our being here. Maybe if we spent more time twinkling in life, and less time putting twinkling lights on our homes, the world would be a bit brighter for our being here.

The wind blows where it will. It serves to remind us there are powers at work around us over which we have no control, but keeping one hand on our hat, and keeping our head when the wind blows are both things we can do if we choose to here in this, our valley.

Tracking the Storm

“Even if you are on the right track, you’ll get run over if you just sit there.” Author Unknown.

We are told that a body at rest will stay at rest, while a body in motion will stay in motion. One of the keys to maintaining a healthy body is to keep it moving, whether that means getting out and walking (or using the treadmill at the gym when the weather gets bad), or hauling and chopping wood. The nature of the movement and exercise is less important than the simply getting up and doing it.

In a month or so it occurs to me that Christmas will be here. I know, I know. No one wants to be reminded of the fact. We have only just gotten past Halloween, we haven’t even gotten our Thanksgiving bird, and the stores have long-since been stocking up for the big holiday season.

Normally I am a Christmas Crab. I have more in common with Ebenezer Scrooge (pre-conversion) or Henry F. Potter (It’s a Wonderful Life) than selfless George Bailey. I’m not a miser, exactly, but I prefer to close the gates, raise the draw bridge, and turn out the lights until after the holidays have come on gone. The holidays, in my mind, are like spiritual hurricanes that blow through wreaking all sorts of chaos and damage in their path.

Part of my attitude is a result of the season. The weather is wet and cold, the nights long and dark, and the world is more “me” oriented than usual. I know that for every seasonal greeting of love, joy, or peace that is expressed, there will be reports of mobs breaking down doors at the malls, shoppers tazing and pepper-spraying one another, drunks and addicts slaughtering friends and neighbors on the roads (or regaling us with their political/sports insights or opinions as we sit around feasting – hoping the night will end sooner than later).

As I said, normally I am a Christmas Crab, but not this year. I am approaching the season with eyes fully open, and mind fully alert. The world of violence and destruction, arguments and fights, drunkenness and greed is precisely the world we live in.

So, what can we do? What should we do? Is there anything we can do to put the “holy” back into the holy-day season that is bearing down on us as we speak?

First things first, we don’t need to panic, nor do we need to hunker down. We need to prepare. What needs to be done?

What do you do when you board a plane? You stow away your belongings. You put away anything that can become a missile in the event of an accident. The first thing I am stowing away for the holiday are my expectations. Expectations often become resentments (that take on a life of their own) when they are unfulfilled, so I will let life unfold and respond with as much grace and good humor as I can. I can’t control people or situations, but I can be kind, gentle, and graceful; so I will.

Secondly, I am not responsible for anyone else’s happiness. “The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance; the wise grows it under his feet” (James Oppenheim). I will look for ways to convey my love this season in a manner that reveals what’s in my heart more than what’s in my wallet. Gifts will be the result of thoughtful, prayerful, and careful consideration. To be sure, Hickory Farms MAY be the answer to my prayer for someone, but let’s hope not! I can open my heart, so I think I will.

I believe that if many of us were to take those two steps alone this season (and starting now), we would be on track for a holier season, a lovelier season, a brighter, friendlier, and more peaceable season. It’s only two steps away, but that is something at least, so let’s get a move on in this, our valley! Shalom.

A Happy Glow

“Happiness, I have discovered, is nearly always a rebound from hard work.” David Grayson

We are told that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. It is a cliché, because it is true.

When our firewood for the season was delivered (my electric chain saw won’t work out in the forest where there is a real dearth of electrical outlets!) the trailer-load looked like it would take quite a while to unload and move to our wood racks. I was sure it would take hours.

However, once I began, it went quickly. I began the process of picking up the logs with one hand, laid and balanced them on the opposite forearm (against the chest), and repeated that process until some supervising muscle cell yelled, “Enough!” – and then I walked with the armload out the garage, up the steps to the deck, and then finally arranged them on the rack. I then repeated that whole process again and again in an almost robotic fashion. Before I knew it, trailer-load one was done – and it had taken all of 35 or 40 minutes!

I felt good. I was happy. If I had stood there first, pondering the details involved in moving wood from one spot to another, I would have gotten worn out just with the thinking part of it. But, rolling up figurative sleeves (I kept them down to protect my arms from slivers, spiders, sap, and other such what-not), I simply dug in, did the deed, and when finished, stepped back quite pleased with the results.

“Happiness,” says David Grayon (whose real name is Ray Stannard Baker), “is nearly always a rebound from hard work.”

Hard work produces happiness. Chemists, doctors, and physical fitness aficionados will say it is the endorphins that produce that sense of pleasure we feel, and no doubt they are partially right.

But the happiness I am thinking about isn’t so much the drug-induced euphoria we get from a good cardio workout (something about which I know VERY little), but that comes from the sense of satisfaction we experience when there is a job to do, precious little resources for getting it done, and overcoming the inertia to just do it (no trademark infringement intended).

Created in the image of God, I believe we are designed to tackle tough problems and solve them, and even if we fail, to feel OK. Don’t get me wrong. No one likes to fail. No one likes to lose. But there is satisfaction in being finished.

What is important is giving it our best shot, and then developing an appropriate level of amnesia to carry on with our next project.

Amnesia?

Yes. We need to be able to get past our failures. They don’t define us. They are part of life’s experiences. We need to reflect on what we did (or failed to do), decisions we made (or failed to make), and then file away in that messy cerebral junk pile we call a “brain” the information we need to make better decisions, or find better options.

We may perspire from our labors, but we don’t need to sweat the results. As my grandmother used to say, “Horses sweat; people glow.”

Too often, though, we hang onto a sense of shame about our failings, and we begin to think WE are failures. That’s what we need to forget. That’s where the amnesia comes in.

After we humans messed up in the garden of Eden, I think maybe God just conveniently forgot the death penalty he had handed out in his preemptory warning to the young couple.

He figured, “Hey, we’ll work this out.” And rolling up his sleeves, and humming a sweet celestial tune, he began his journey of a thousand miles. His first step was to take Adam and Eve by the hand, and to walk with them out into the world.

I think Amnesia is one of God’s greatest gifts, ranking right up there with happiness in this, our valley. We just need to learn to glow with the flow.

Calling the Shots

Face it, fix it, and forget it. Source Unknown

It must be hunting season. The deer and antelope seem more skittish than usual. A beautiful buck with a nice rack wandered into our yard. I grabbed my camera, which was by my side for once, and in the time it took me to turn, grab, and turn back, the buck was gone. Even though it was outside and I was inside, it seemed to know instinctively that it was about to be shot. Whether the shot was to be ballistic or digital mattered not to that ol’ mulie (or was it a white-tail?). It skedaddled.

I snuck up to the window to see where it might have gone, and as I peeked along the edge of the pane, I saw the deer peeking back from around the corner of the house. We spent a few minutes playing peek-a-boo with each other, but nothing much came of it (not even the courtesy of him saying, “Cheese”), so I gave up and went back to reading the news. I will have to try my hand at photo-journalism some other time.

Cameras are like that with me. They are never in hand when I need them. When something happens and I want a picture, the camera is elsewhere; when the camera is with me, nothing happens.

A couple months back a black bear ran across the highway as we were driving up out of Virginia City. I did the best quick-draw I could with my cell-phone (holstered on my hip), but by the time I “woke up” the phone, unlocked the screen, and found the camera icon, ol’ Smokie had gone off, gotten married, and had cubs and grand-cubs. Grrr!

A couple weeks back we were headed to Virginia City for church and – LO! The town moose and her calf were crossing the road 100 feet from our house. I slammed on the brakes, whipped out my cell-phone and, with in-humanly blazing speed, caught their rear ends dropping down into a neighbor’s backyard brush. After church I rushed home to check out the photos. Sadly, not even the most sophisticated CSI agents would be able to prove that the brown spots surrounded by black splotches in the center of the photos are the backsides of a moose and her child. Grrr!

But that’s life, isn’t it? I really want to memorialize my experiences in pictures, but what I end up with are memories – and what’s wrong with that?

There is a commercial I see on television every now and then of folks at a school play fighting, scratching, and clawing their way to the best places to record the play, while another couple with a latest and greatest cell-phone/camera sit back, relax, and enjoy the show (because their phone brings the action to them). It’s a good commercial. Why do I say that? Because it makes me WANT THAT PHONE! Of course, that is only my evil twin – Covetous Keith – talking. Contented Keith is above all that nonsense.

Anyway, the point is that we are sometimes so wrapped up in our various technologies (designed to connect and communicate) that we forget what it means to actually enjoy the experience of where we’re at, who we’re with, and what we’re doing. Isn’t it enough to simply enjoy the bear ambling across the highway? Do we need to capture it on film (or digital media)? Isn’t it enough to simply watch a moose and her calf trot across the street a couple of first downs away from our home? Isn’t it enough to play peek-a-boo with a majestic, but skitterish, buck – and regale our friends with the tale (sans photos)?

I wonder if God is taking pictures and recording our every thought, word, move, and deed. Perhaps God is satisfied with watching us at work and play, doing what we do.

If God DOES take a picture of us doing something kind or noble, let’s hope it isn’t just because God has never seen us do such a thing. Let’s hope it is because God has finally just gotten the hang of how to use his latest and greatest cell-estial phone here in this, our valley. Just remember to say “cheese” every once in a while.

No Fear in Love

“Love has no fear because perfect love expels fear.” 1 John 4:18

Have you ever noticed how much easier it is to be against something than to be for something?

I am in need of a new computer. The one I am using now is showing signs of old age. I have run all the available programs to eliminate junk files, malware, viruses, and the like. I have transferred files and folders to storage drives. I update my drivers and install hardware and software patches regularly. Never-the-less, there are signs that her health is not great, and catastrophic failure, while not imminent, is likely not too far around the bend.

Still, I hesitate to run out and buy a new machine. Why? Because PC Operating Systems have undergone a number of major shifts since I acquired my current laptop. I know how this one works. I know its quirks. It has everything I want loaded into it. She knows my secret handshake so I can log onto sites to take care of business efficiently.

But the real reason I don’t want to run out and buy a new computer is fear. I am afraid I won’t be able to figure out the new way of doing things. What will I do if they moved the little “x” from the upper right corner to the upper left corner of the screen? What will I do if the Ctrl-Alt-Del fix-all I have used for years has been changed to something else by some geeky wonder-kind?

I can imagine many scenarios where I would simply be lost and without hope with the new-fangled technologies that keep rolling down the pike. But if I am wise (which is normally quite a leap, indeed), I will come to realize there is a learning curve that every generation has to face at some point in life – and we don’t need to be afraid of those changes.

The key is to set aside the fear one is facing, and forge ahead.

Imagine the challenge our fore-bears had when they had to transition from slate tablets and chisels to papyrus and styluses (styli?). The ancient priests must have been terrified of the lost work-force when they couldn’t hear the constant chiseling taking place in those temple cubicles – only to find that the chicken scratches they were hearing were their workers writing away. The workers no doubt rejoiced when they discovered how much more time they could spend at the water cooler debating whether paper cuts hurt more than hammer-mashed thumbs (or vice versa).

While it is human nature to complain and worry, the Bible teaches us that perfect love casts out fear. I presume it is talking more about human relationships than technology, but I wonder if those two things are all that dissimilar.

One way to disarm the fear we might have of a thing, is to just set aside the fear and face the thing head-on. The first time getting behind the wheel of a car was quite scary, but setting aside the fear, one put the book-learning into practice. Acting with as much bravado as one could in a car full of equally scared driver’s education students, one gained experience and quite possibly even a love of driving over time. That love and experience cast out the earlier fear, didn’t it?

Like-wise, we fear people for a variety of reasons, but mostly we fear what they will think of us. The problem isn’t the other person, but our own fragile ego. We know the adage: Better to keep silent and be thought a fool than to open one’s mouth and remove all doubt.

If we realize that our value is not based upon what others think of us, but rather is based upon what God thinks of us – and God loves us unconditionally – then we don’t need to be afraid. The Book tells us: God so loved (insert your name here) that he gave his only begotten Son so that those who return that love will not perish, but forever have a place in God’s home (my paraphrase of John 3:16).

God’s love casts out our fear, allowing us to love others more perfectly. Ctrl-Alt-LOVE. Now isn’t THAT a command worth learning here in this, our valley?

Hide and Seek

Playing Hide and Seek

“Please, Lord, rescue me! Come quickly, Lord, and help me.” Psalm 40:13

Barb and I flew into Raleigh, North Carolina for the start of our vacation. We had never been to the state, and it was late. We collected our baggage and found the shuttle that would take us to the car rental agency. We were on vacation, so I decided to splurge and opted for a nice sized SUV for our time in NC. In a moment of mindless penny-pinching, though, I opted not to get a GPS unit for the car. What could go wrong, eh?

Nothing, of course; nothing went wrong until we left the parking lot of the rental agency. Asking where we could find a restaurant open for a quick bite before hitting the road just before midnight, the agent gave us some quick directions that I was able to just as quickly forget by the time I figured out how to turn on the headlights – which I didn’t need to turn on as they were on “automatic”. Who’d have thunk it!

Anyway, I quickly gave up looking for any sort of restaurant. Perhaps suspecting Yankees were lurking about the region, the entire area seemed to be in a perpetual blackout mode. The road signs were posted on three-by-five inch placards – printed with some sort of non-reflective paint, and the large markers above the roadway didn’t tell you what highway you were on; only what roads you might discover if you kept your eyes peeled while traveling upon that rain-slicked, unilluminated track of asphalt.

We drove for a few minutes when it became obvious I had no idea where I was, which way I was headed, or upon what road I might be traveling, so we turned around and went back to the airport. There, Barb and I switched seats and she drove while I studied and interpreted my Google Map instructions during the intermittent flashes of lightning and toll road cameras. Within an hour we found a town with street lights, an open motel, and a not-yet-closed fast food outlet. We were in heaven, so we holed up there for the remainder of the night!

We were in North Carolina for a week, and while we visited a number of sites and kept busy, I never did feel like I ever knew where we were. I am no Davy Crocket or Daniel Boone, but I have always been able to piece together maps and geography and find my way around – until now. I was feeling a bit embarrassed by it all until my brother in law loaned me his GPS unit.

Heading back to their house from the Atlantic coast, even the GPS got lost. Can you believe it? Even the latest and greatest satellite-connected brain on the market couldn’t figure how to get us from where we were to where we were going. Except for the part where I imagined us dying lost and forgotten in the rain-soaked wildernesses of North Carolina, I felt better knowing that I was not alone in my geo-challenged befuddlement.

Life is sometimes like that, though. We have skills and abilities, tools and technologies, and yet for all of that, we can still find ourselves lost and adrift in a sea of confusion.

I have gotten to the age where there isn’t enough time left to figure everything out for myself. When I get lost, I have learned to pull over and ask directions. Consequently, I stopped at a local speedy mart and asked the man at the counter how I might get to where I was headed, and he told me. “Ignore the signs,” he said, “and follow my directions.”

He was right. He drew out a map for me (ironically, on the back of my internet’s map directions), described the landmarks to watch for and, lo and behold, before you know it, we were safe and sound right where we belonged.

Once again, the Lord came to the rescue. God came to us in the form of a kindly clerk in a run-down pit stop deep in the heart of Dixie. Our God saves even those far away from this, our valley – and for that, we are thankful.

The Spirit of Cooperation

“I planted, (another person) watered; but God gave the increase … We are God’s co-workers.” 1 Corinthians 3

We have stumps in our yard. Not a few; not a couple; but a bunch of stumps. Most of them (in the lawn) are low enough I’ve been able to mow over them, for I do keep my mower height up a few notches, and yet they are and have been regular toe stubbers for the year or so we have lived in our home.

We checked with people who remove stumps for a living, but the price per stump to remove them seemed outrageous, which is quite likely why the previous owners never got rid of them to begin with. In time they should disintegrate, but I am not sure I want to wait until then. I suspect they are more likely to petrify and become rocks, joining the zillion other stones that occupy our soil.

Having seen stump grinders at work, and having an idea of how they do their business of grinding, I could see no reason I couldn’t handle the task myself – necessity being the mother of invention and all. I went to the store and bought a decent (but inexpensive) plug-in electric chainsaw, and for the past week or so have just ground away at those stubborn little toe-jammers one by one until the yard is now mostly clear.

So far, I have only found one stump that has resisted my efforts, but it is up in a flower bed and out of the way, so it really isn’t a problem. It’s just an eyes-sore I want removed, but it will come down in time – of that I am sure.

I find my spiritual life is something like our yard. There are things that stump me and against which I stub my toes. Many things I leave to God to take care of, for those things really do rest in his hands.

Like the natural decay of wood, there are character defects that will wear away over time and disappear, and that is a good thing. I think it is part of God’s plan to help us learn where the stumps of life are so we can find ways around them – even in the dark.

But there are other things that are a problem for us in the “now” – like impatience, anxiety, or depression, which we can grind away at in the present moment. It isn’t easy. Good things never are, and yet we are told that all things come to good for those who love God and who are called according to God’s purpose, and I believe it.

There are things only God can do, but for the most part, God expects and requires our active participation. There’s an old joke: If you want to win the lottery, and pray for God to help you win (an approach I DO NOT advocate), you ought to at least meet God half way and buy a lottery ticket.

Sometimes we want God to change our lives one way or another, but we are unwilling to do our part to make it happen. We want friends, but we won’t join new groups. We want sobriety, but won’t stop our drinking or using. We want more business, but won’t advertise.

We pray for patience, but get angry when God sends trials our way – but how else will God help us build our “patient” muscles if we don’t face circumstances that will exercise them?  How will God change our world if we won’t help him change us?

Watch what you pray for; God often answers prayers in ways we don’t expect, and in ways we will not appreciate, but that is just how God operates.

Knowing that God is God and we are not, it is easy to simply expect God “do it all”, but the fact is that God put us here; we are instruments of his grace. To act as if it is otherwise would be to become derelict in our duty – and that’s no way to live.

If there are things that would improve your health and well-being (and that of your community), then ask God for the tools you need to plant, water, or grind away on life’s stumpers. It will make for a tree-mendous difference for everyone here in this, our valley.

Proper 16

Jesus seems to break the Sabbath rules when he heals a woman in the synagogue. But is he violating the Sabbath? and How might he bring healing to you and your life?

https://soundcloud.com/kfaxberg/proper-16-001

Playing Hide and Seek

“Please, Lord, rescue me! Come quickly, Lord, and help me.” Psalm 40:13

Barb and I flew into Raleigh, North Carolina for the start of our vacation. We had never been to the state, and it was late. We collected our baggage and found the shuttle that would take us to the car rental agency. We were on vacation, so I decided to splurge and opted for a nice sized SUV for our time in NC. In a moment of mindless penny-pinching, though, I opted not to get a GPS unit for the car. What could go wrong, eh?

Nothing, of course; nothing went wrong until we left the parking lot of the rental agency. Asking where we could find a restaurant open for a quick bite before hitting the road just before midnight, the agent gave us some quick directions that I was able to just as quickly forget by the time I figured out how to turn on the headlights – which I didn’t need to turn on as they were on “automatic”. Who’d have thunk it!

Anyway, I quickly gave up looking for any sort of restaurant. Perhaps suspecting Yankees were lurking about the region, the entire area seemed to be in a perpetual blackout mode. The road signs were posted on three-by-five inch placards – printed with some sort of non-reflective paint, and the large markers above the roadway didn’t tell you what highway you were on; only what roads you might discover if you kept your eyes peeled while traveling upon that rain-slicked, unilluminated track of asphalt.

We drove for a few minutes when it became obvious I had no idea where I was, which way I was headed, or upon what road I might be traveling, so we turned around and went back to the airport. There, Barb and I switched seats and she drove while I studied and interpreted my Google Map instructions during the intermittent flashes of lightning and toll road cameras. Within an hour we found a town with street lights, an open motel, and a not-yet-closed fast food outlet. We were in heaven, so we holed up there for the remainder of the night!

We were in North Carolina for a week, and while we visited a number of sites and kept busy, I never did feel like I ever knew where we were. I am no Davy Crocket or Daniel Boone, but I have always been able to piece together maps and geography and find my way around – until now. I was feeling a bit embarrassed by it all until my brother in law loaned me his GPS unit.

Heading back to their house from the Atlantic coast, even the GPS got lost. Can you believe it? Even the latest and greatest satellite-connected brain on the market couldn’t figure how to get us from where we were to where we were going. Except for the part where I imagined us dying lost and forgotten in the rain-soaked wildernesses of North Carolina, I felt better knowing that I was not alone in my geo-challenged befuddlement.

Life is sometimes like that, though. We have skills and abilities, tools and technologies, and yet for all of that, we can still find ourselves lost and adrift in a sea of confusion.

I have gotten to the age where there isn’t enough time left to figure everything out for myself. When I get lost, I have learned to pull over and ask directions. Consequently, I stopped at a local speedy mart and asked the man at the counter how I might get to where I was headed, and he told me. “Ignore the signs,” he said, “and follow my directions.”

He was right. He drew out a map for me (ironically, on the back of my internet’s map directions), described the landmarks to watch for and, lo and behold, before you know it, we were safe and sound right where we belonged.

Once again, the Lord came to the rescue. God came to us in the form of a kindly clerk in a run-down pit stop deep in the heart of Dixie. Our God saves even those far away from this, our valley – and for that, we are thankful.

The Great Fickle

“The hearts of the people are fickle...” Hosea 10:2

One of the challenges we face when all appears to be going well is that we may actually believe all IS well.

Visiting relatives in the Chicago area many moons ago my brother and I (and assorted cousins) were put into the rear-facing seat of my uncle’s station wagon. He and my aunt Ginny had picked us up at the train station and were hauling us to their house where we would camp out for a few weeks. It was a typical hot sticky mid-western summer’s day and back in those days they had no air conditioning in the cars. Well, they did. They called it “four by fifty” air conditioning – rolling down the windows as you zipped along at fifty miles per hour.

That didn’t help us in the back, of course. We had no side windows, we were faced to the rear, and any moving air was about a hundred degrees with the added humidity of a dozen perspiring bodies who shared our crew space.

But then, science kicked in. I had just finished seventh grade and I remembered learning about motion, air, and the mechanics of aircraft and how they fly. In a stroke of brilliance (and wanting to demonstrate that I actually HAD learned something in the school year just concluded) I offered a suggestion to my cousinly companions.

“According to modern science,” I said (and yes, that is what I really said), “the car moving forward is creating a vacuum behind it. If we open the rear window, the vacuum will help draw air into the car!”

This created a real sense of hope and excitement for all those crammed into the back seat, and so our cousin John rolled down the back window and – voila – hot air filled with the oily exhaust of our monster wagon flooded into the car, giving us immediate relief from any oxygen we might need to sustain life.

Needless to say, Cousin John quickly rolled the window back up, saving us all from a gruesome death, while the others pummeled me into a quivering mass of humbled pie.

Sometimes we do the best we can with what we have at hand, only to discover that the results are not what we had intended. We also learn that while our intentions might well be noble, that we are not judged by our intentions, but by the consequences of our actions.

Of course, we all had a great laugh out of our experience (once we had all returned to consciousness) and “according to modern science” became the unofficial motto of the summer.

Oh how fickle science can be – and yet, how dependable. The laws of science apply irrespective of our understanding and, if we are wise, we will learn not to take science for granted or assume we can figure out every outcome for every action. Science isn’t as much fickle as it is an equalizer and humbling force.

We will reap what we sow; if we sow in arrogance, we will reap abundant humility, but the good news is that if we plant the good seeds of love, patience, kindness, joy, happiness, and so on, we will more likely receive an abundance of good fruits.

Hosea tells those who are listening that if they plow up the hard ground of their hearts – living to please God – that God may well respond by showering them with the fruits of his own loving kindness.

I am actually happy that my best intentions and actions are sometimes turned on their heads. It is so easy to fall into the trap of thinking one is more than what one actually is. Making mistakes, acknowledging those mistakes, and making amends for them as best one can, we make this a better place for those around us, as well as for those who will follow. And isn’t that why we’re here?

We’re here to take care of this wonderful garden we call earth and, more importantly, to take care of one another. We open the window hoping and praying for fresh air. If the air is toxic, admit the mistake, and close the window.

There are abundant opportunities in life to get caught in the Great Fickle, but there is good news in knowing that it is not God’s desire to pick us off, but to pick us up instead in this, our valley.

The Lord's Prayer

Sunday (July 28) we got to read or hear the account of Jesus' disciples asking him to help them pray. From that conversation, we receive both the Lord's Prayer and several parables to help us understand the nature of prayer. In my sermon, I focus on the Lord's Prayer as the framework upon which our lives are hung.

I've not been happy with the audio quality of past video sermons, so this is an audio file of the sermon preached at Trinity (Jeffers). Let me know what you think.

I hope you find these thoughts and comments helpful and/or useful.

https://soundcloud.com/kfaxberg/sr001f-the-lords-prayer-proper

Peace!

Catching Up

I have fallen behind, so here are links to my past two sermons, both preached (praught?) and recorded at Trinity (Jeffers, MT).

From Proper 6 (June 16 - Father's Day) Sermon starts at 5:25 mark:

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x10yfat_proper-6c-experience-is-not-enough_lifestyle

From Proper 7 (June 23) Sermon starts at the 4:40 mark:

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x116xu2_proper-7c-do-not-torment-me_lifestyle#.UciLOPn2bfc

Survive or Thrive

Why is it that Zebras and other creatures of the wild don't get ulcers? It is because they live in the moment. They don't regret the past, nor do they lose sleep over the future. Only we human beings experience chronic anxiety and diseases related to the erosion of soul caused by the emotional stressors of life. How can we break free from the corrosive effects of anxiety? This morning I looked for some hints in the story of Elijah and the widow of Zeraphath in the day's first lessons.

This sermon was preached at Trinity (Jeffers, MT) this morning (June 9, 2013) and is based upon the readings for Year C, Proper 5.

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x10qlx8_survive-or-thrive_lifestyle#.UbUO1_n2bfc

Faith of the Roman Soldier

Jesus helps a Roman soldier, whose slave is critically ill. The Centurion does not approach Jesus directly, but through intermediaries. The soldier responds to Jesus with deep humility --- "I am not worthy," he says. But God hears his prayer, and his servant is healed. Listen carefully as the story unfolds (based upon Luke 7:1-10).

www.dailymotion.com/video/x10hori_proper-4c-faith-of-the-roman-officer_lifestyle#.UauvnkD2bfc

Trinity Sunday

The Trinity is a mystery, but it isn't that complicated. It is the tale of a God whose love is made manifest in the art of the dance.  See more here:

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x108dh8_trinity-sunday-2013_lifestyle#.UaJv47X2bfc

Pentecost

Today was the Feast of Pentecost, also known as the Birthday of the Church. 92% of Americans claim to believe in God, but only 10% will be found attending church on any given Sunday. Why is that? What good is church? I devoted a little time exploring those questions and more. You can find the whole sermon video recorded at Trinity Episcopal Church in Jeffers, MT. The sermon starts around 3-4 minutes in.

http://www.dailymotion.com/user/KeithAxberg/1#video=x1019e6

Pondering Mother's Day

Today, I shared a little bit about my two mothers - my bio mother and my step-mother, and how they affected my life, ministry, and the way I understand and talk about God. From that, I transitioned to the lesson from the Gospel of John (17:20-26) and the glory of God which was given by God the Father to Jesus, and from Jesus to his disciples and on to us.

You may find the sermon here: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xzt9ky_mothers-day-2013_lifestyle#.UZADlbXU_fc

Christ the Good Shepherd

April 21 was the Fourth Sunday of Easter, also known as Good Shepherd Sunday. I have always struggled with the concept of church pastor as the "shepherd" and the average parishioner as "sheep" (or the congregation as the "flock"). I think Christ has called the Church to function as the Shepherd, and to think of the local community as the sheep who need tending. This sermon examins that idea in greater detail.

You may find it at: http://www.dailymotion.com/user/KeithAxberg/1#video=xzd34x

Leaving a Legacy on the Road

The things you do for yourself are gone when you are gone, but the things you do for others remain as your legacy. Ndukwe Dike Kalu

I like to think of myself as a helpful individual. When someone is stuck in a snowdrift, I will generally help them out. When someone is in hospital, I will make an effort to visit. When someone is struggling in some way, I might make a suggestion – if asked.

I really do try not to give unwanted or unsolicited advice, not because my opinions aren’t good (there have been times they have been very good, in fact), but I have learned that my help or suggestions do not always provide the results desired.

I learned that once again this week when my wife and I stayed a night at the Days Inn in Coeur d’Alene. It had been a rough weekend for us and we were on our way home from Seattle. Normally I would have pushed through another six hours to enjoy the comforts of our own home in our own bed, but I knew we wouldn’t make it – at least not the way we were feeling at that point. It was supper time and we were exhausted, so we called it a day.

We enjoyed a good night’s sleep. Although we did not qualify for any discounts, our motel clerk gave us an unofficial Good Neighbor discount anyway. Gracias amiga!

The next morning we were quite refreshed and were prepared to hit the road after enjoying a meal in the motel breakfast room. I poured a bowl of cereal and discovered their milk dispenser was empty, so I found the morning clerk and told her about it. She quickly went and got a fresh carton of milk and began the process of removing the empty and replacing it with the new.

I watched her snip off the end of the milk tube before she put it into the dispenser and knew immediately she was going to have problems. At that point she became flummoxed and unsure what to do next, so I got up to help her. I pinched the tube next to the carton so she could feed the line through the handle and, together, we got the job done with very little loss of moo-juice.

She thanked me for my help and complimented me on my superior mechanical skills. I peshawed and told her I was just happy to help. Then … catastrophe!

I lifted the handle to dispense milk into my bowl of cereal, and upon releasing it a fountain of milk began to spray up from the handle like Old Faithful! Fortunately I was able to save myself and my bowl of cereal with a hasty retreat to the far side of the room. The clerk swung open the door and pinched the tube with one hand while clipping it with an industrial strength paper clip she had lying handy nearby. Thus ended the eruption of Mount Moosuvius.

Our clerk was very apologetic for the mess and trouble as she cleaned it up, but we assured her it wasn’t a problem – because it wasn’t. It was a Monday morning, and I have no doubt machines hate Mondays as much as the rest of us. We thanked her for her hard work (and for the floor show), finished our meal, checked out, and finished our trip home.

Life happens. The way we handle our part will either make the world a better place or not. I know I have a lot of room for improvement in my life and attitudes, but if I was able to depart, leaving the motel clerk with hope that the rest of her day would be better, then I probably did as much as could be done, despite the results of my help.

After all, there’s no use crying over spilt milk in this, our valley (or anywhere else) – is there?

From Darkness to Charcoal to Life

Video Sermon Here: http://www.dailymotion.com/user/KeithAxberg/1#video=xz0eea

Sermon Outline Below:

Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.

Have you ever been lost? I mean REALLY lost?

I like the shirt Jim Singer wears ever now and then:

                Support your local Search and Rescue; Get Lost!

I think Peter and the Apostles must have really felt lost.

                Life must have felt very UNREAL to them.

For three years: Walking Daily with the Prince of Peace.

                Listening to his stories.

                Wrestling with the nature of God.

                Looking at the Kingdom of God in new ways.

It all came crashing down in Holy Week.

                The big parade into Jerusalem led to the cleansing of the temple, and then – Catastrophe. Not a little set-back, but complete, total annihilation.

Oh sure, there was Easter Sunday.

                There was the empty tomb, the women prattling on about how they confused the gardener with the risen Lord, and visions of angels, and other such nonsense. Peter and John had gone to investigate, but that confused them more than anything.

                True: Jesus did come to visit them in the upper room on two occasions, but it was evening; they were tired; they’d been hitting the wine a little heavy. The vision told them to be at peace, to “calm down” and assured them that everything would be OK.

                But that was just the grief talking, wasn’t it?

What happens when you are alone with your thoughts?

                You go crazy, don’t you?

                You start thinking about what coulda, shoulda, woulda been.

What’s worse, you’re left alone with your own thoughts; your own demons; your own failings and failures.

There are neighborhoods in most big cities you don’t want to be in at night; parts of Detroit, or Seattle, or Chicago. They’re scary, and they’re dangerous, and they’re filled with strange people for whom life doesn’t seem all that sacred.

That’s the neighborhood I live in when I am alone with my thoughts. I go deep, and I go dark, and I start to lose my footing with great ease.

That’s where Peter, John, and the other apostles were. They had already left Jerusalem. They’d gone 80 miles north, back home to where it all began for most of them, back home to Galilee; to family, friends, and neighbors; back to their old jobs.

But they can’t escape their neighborhood. They can’t escape the muggings going on in here (head). They can’t mend their broken hearts or shattered dreams. So they go back to their dreary lives. Into the darkness; that’s where they went.

Have you ever tried to “go back”? Have you ever tried to recapture your youth? Addicts tell me they’re always “chasing the buzz”. Nothing ever feels as good as the first hit, or the first high. They chase after that which will never deliver. That’s what Peter, James, John, and the rest are doing. Maybe we can find the magic once again – out there on the water; out there amongst the fish.

They tried, but they came back empty. Empty! That’s worse than a slight buzz, or a fuzzy high. That stinks!

But as dawn begins to break, they see a figure a hundred yards away. He’s got a fire going, and … what’s that? He’s got fish! He calls out: Try the other side. Send your nets out there! BAM!!! More than enough!

Do you love me? Take care of one another. Take care of friend and stranger alike. Bring everyone in. If you can’t find them here, cast your nets there. Love means bringing them in; feeding them; clothing them; tending to their needs. Bring them in, and you will see Me in the process.

Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia!

Easter 2013

Khristós Anésti! Alithós Anésti! Christ is Risen; the Lord is risen, indeed!

What is Easter all about?  What is this season of bunnies, eggs, peeps, and daffodils?

I would like you to go back with me – to another time in your life and mine. Close your eyes for a moment, and put yourself back into your mother’s womb.         It’s warm, dark, and safe.

 

You neither toil nor labor; You neither plant nor reap; Off in the distance you hear a heart beat that’s not exactly your own, and yet you know there’s a connection. You know neither hunger nor thirst. You’re getting everything you need, although you’re not exactly sure how. You have a feeling there is more to life than what you’ve experienced up to this point, but that’s OK because if you have everything you need, what more could there possibly be?

And then one day, it happens. Everything is turned upside down as your world begins to collapse in on itself. You have no words to describe it, but the only word that comes to mind is: DEATH. “I’m dying!” you scream, but no words come out (because you don’t even know what air is). And then …

POW! There it is. You make your exit and you enter a world you cannot even imagine. No longer bathed in the warmth of your mother’s womb, you enter a world that is 30 degrees colder. No longer embraced and held secure within the body of your mother, your arms flail about. You’re jostled from pillar to post. The back of your brain explodes with pain as your eyes are subjected to light for the very first time; your ears begin to drain and you hear the angels around you making strange noises – you hear the clatter of instruments; the bleeps and blips of the monitors; your skin is rubbed raw with something called “cloth”.

You don’t know it yet, but you haven’t died. You have simply transitioned from the first heaven to the second heaven. Somewhere along the way you were, to use the old English word, “quickened” – made alive. The day will come when you won’t remember even a moment of the first heaven or the first earth, but you will come to learn of the second heaven and the second earth.

Where you appreciate the great benefits of the first heaven and the first earth – worlds without worry; worlds where everything you needed was passed along just by the very nature of that world into which you were conceived; you have only just now begun to discover a new world, where you can actively participate in a community called “family” – a community where you have neighbors, and friends – people who care, and people who don’t. 

The day will come where the great benefits of this second heaven and second earth will begin to fade away. Your ears will no longer hear as clearly; your eyes will no longer see as sharply; your mind will start to lose some of its Velcro; your body will begin to give way to the diseases of old age.

But if you listen carefully, you may hear another muffled heartbeat in the distance. This (church) is our stethoscope. If you watch closely, you may see glimpses of yet another heaven and another earth. This (church) is our telescope. We make our confession, and the toxicity of our lives are taken away by the umbilicus (that is this church). We eat the bread and drink the wine and are nourished through the umbilicus (that is this church).

What we have chosen to call “death” in this life is not death – not for us. We are children of yet another mother; a mother who has nourished us; a mother who has kept us warm, safe, and secure; a mother who, in the fullness of time, will deliver us into yet another heaven – another earth.

“Why do you look for the living among the dead?” asked the angel. “He is not here; he is risen – just as he said.”

What is Easter all about?  What is this season of bunnies, eggs, peeps, and daffodils? It’s not about that at all, is it? This season of Easter – and believe me, it is a season, not a day – this season of Easter is about three things:

1. Easter is not just about Jesus; it is about you. He has already claimed his new life; now is your opportunity to claim yours. The Bible tells us “Today is the day of salvation.” We don’t have to wait. Easter is God’s gift, waiting for you, right here, right now, in this puddle of gravy we call “life.” You don’t even have to call a toll-free number to claim your prize. It s enough to simply say, "Thank you, Lord."

2. Easter is not just about death; it is about life, and not just life after death–that’s the easy part–but real life before death, right now. Just as our life in the womb was spent preparing for our entry into this world, so life in this world is to be spent preparing for the world to come. We don’t earn our salvation by doing good works; we do our good works because our salvation has freed us to live in the fullness of God’s presence. It is enough to simply say, "Thank you, Lord. And …"

3. Easter is not just about the past, way back then and long ago; it is all about the future. Literally, I say to you, your best days are ahead of you. “Old things have passed away; behold, all things are become new.” Whatever is holding you back, the stone has been rolled away so that you can get out and so that God can get in. It is enough to simply say, "Thank you, Lord."

That is what Easter is all about.

Khristós Anésti! Alithós Anésti! Christ is Risen; the Lord is risen, indeed!