My fascination with fasteners

“The LORD will make good his purpose for me; O LORD, your love endures forever.” Psalm 138:9

I don’t know why I try to be a DIY guy at home. My skill, my charism, if I’ve got one, is putting words together, not wood. I should know better than to try, and yet what is one to do in retirement but try to develop skills that God, in God’s infinite wisdom, gave to others but (apparently) not to me? I work for a Jewish carpenter, but even the Great Healer knows better than to put power tools into my hands.

That’s OK. I’ve got time to kill and decent medical insurance, so why farm out work that doesn’t require the strength of Samson (or his hair)? I don’t mind hiring folks to do big jobs that really are beyond my capacity to do them, but for little things, I like the challenge. I know I haven’t got the hands-on experience of real carpenters or people in the trades, but I’ve got YouTube. What could go wrong?

Case in point this week was my goal to build a box step for the front of our shed. Its entry is about a foot above ground level; several years ago I’d set up a temporary platform out of landscaping timbers and concrete pavers. They worked just fine, but looked like something Laurel and Hardy (or the original MacGuyver) would have installed. I wanted to build something more Taj Mahal than Slip ‘n Slide. What could be simpler than framing a box and topping it with cedar deck-boards?

I zipped down to the local big box store, acquired the lumber I would need, and “fasteners.” I guess they don’t call them screws any more as people got tired of screwing up their projects (and Lord knows I’ve got a screw loose – or two). So now they’re called fasteners, which I find fascinating.

I decided against using nails as I have seen what happens when I use a hammer, and it ain’t a pretty sight. I have good medical insurance, but my agent tells me the policy doesn’t cover self-inflicted blunt force trauma. Besides, I haven’t got enough years left in me for the time it would take me to actually nail a box together. So, “Screw it,” I said to myself, and for once I listened.

By the end of a week, I had cut all my lumber to length, then assembled, disassembled, and reassembled my box base and set it in place. Sadly, I haven’t figured how to attach it to the shed yet, but I’m working on it. It’s a work in progress and I’m agile enough to step over the box and into the shed in the interim.

Life is a work in progress. I know my strengths and limitations and don’t mind acknowledging what I’m good at and what I’m not. I think people are sometimes too ashamed to admit they’re not good at something, as if their worth is based upon their skills (or lack thereof). It has taken me a long time to actually believe what I have been preaching about all my life – that God is love, and that God embraces each and every person.

I have wasted a lot of time suspecting that there are some people far too bad to deserve God’s love, but then one day it dawned on me that if there are exceptions, then why wouldn’t that apply to me, as well? If there are exceptions, then none of us is safe from God’s wrath. All of us have failed to live up to our billing as God’s children, yet God has set a place for each of us at God’s table, in God’s house. Jesus was a carpenter, the son of a carpenter. He knows a thing or two about building tables because he no doubt actually built a table or two.

I know what needs to be done to finish the step to my shed. I really do. It’s no mystery. It’s a project. Just like life is a project. My hope is that, at the end, God will look to see what I’ve become and say, “You nailed it!” That’s my hope for each of you, too, in this, our valley.

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)

To vent or not to vent; that is the question

“I allow the truth to be the truth, no matter how much I may want it to be something else.” Jonathan Maberry (Dust and Decay)

I don’t do a lot on social media. I post an occasional photo if I’ve seen or done something special that I think family or friends might be interested in. I may post something “political” if I’ve got my panties in a real twist, but prefer not to as I’m not aware of anyone who has ever changed their mind because a clever little meme convinced them they were wrong. 

I certainly have my opinions and perspectives, but I prefer to share them with those who ask. Everyone is entitled to their opinion; their right to be wrong. That’s true for you, me, and everyone in between.

Most religions include a form of what is often called the Golden Rule: Do unto others what you would have others do unto you (or the converse: Don’t do to others what you wouldn’t want done to you.). If I don’t want fiery coals heaped on my head or trash dumped on my feed, it would be unseemly to do so from my end.

I feel bad for people who use social media to report their woes. I don’t mind folks asking for prayers or sharing their concerns, of course. I’m not always sure what I can do when something bad happens to those I know or love, but I can at least pray for them and for their situation. 

But I’m not sure that those digital spaces in which we dawdle are the best places from which to vent about those who’ve “done them wrong.” I think many folks have become addicted to venting, though. 

It used to be that one wouldn’t air their “dirty linens” in public; it would dishonor the family. Keeping up appearances was important. I’m no prude, and I would never want to toss people back into closets or force folks to live a lie, but I’m not sure we know what boundaries are any more. There are some things I’d rather not see, and some things I’d rather not hear, or some things I’d rather not know about. 

We seem to have become a world of voyeurs and exhibitionists; we’ve lost the capacity to restrain ourselves. I’m sad when a couple is having problems in their marriage, or when one’s co-workers behave irresponsibly, but I’m not sure the internet is the best place to air those grievances. For one thing, those who could possibly help are least likely to be spending time looking for folks to rescue. They live in bat caves, looking for bat signals; they’re not cruising social feeds looking for troubled souls strewn amongst cute-kitty posts.

No, the place to vent is with a friend, in person, huddling over a cup of coffee, tea, or alternate beverage (when the sun’s gotten over the yardarm). For serious situations, having a pastor or therapist is important. Otherwise, venting should be left to devices designed to handle pressure.

Jesus suggested that the person with whom to address problems or issues is the person with whom one has an issue, or who may have an “ought” against them. Such a meeting is better held in private, and the focus needs to be on fixing the problem, not the blame. When someone airs a grievance in public, their goal isn’t to fix the matter, but to gain allies. They’re not interested in making peace, but in waging war and winning battles. 

It may not always work, of course. Leopards can’t always change their spots; scorpions will continue to sting, for that is their nature; bullies will continue to believe themselves to be the aggrieved victims of life. Still, Jesus didn’t call us to be successful (he ended up on the cross, didn’t he?); he called us to be faithful. “Go, deal with them in private. If that doesn’t work, ask for help. Take care of the brush fire so it doesn’t become a towering inferno!”

That means finding constructive ways to vent. The world makes more than enough victims. Our job is to make amends as needed, restore relationships where possible, and to be peace-makers, always, here in this our valley.

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)

Being of sound mind – now that’s a laugh!

“The work we do on ourselves becomes our gift to everyone else.” Source Unk.

For the past several years I have been sort of the on-site audio-video guy for our church.* When everything shut down for the pandemic I found myself watching the church’s earliest efforts of doing worship online and absolutely hated the experience. It wasn’t that it was online (sometimes being away from people can be nice), but that it was being projected from a stationary laptop with horrible audio and video quality.

I’m not a technical expert, but I do know how to plug cables in and out of ports, so I offered to help, bringing in a decent video camera, amp/mixer, and microphones and, over a period of a few months, assembled enough hardware, gizmos, and adapters to produce a halfway-decent experience for online worshipers. 

As things returned to normal, we continued our online presence so that those who could not attend church (for age, health, or other reasons) could continue to join us. The internet allows us to extend the church’s altar rails in ways we’d never been able to before.

The parish recently upgraded its audio equipment, installing a new speaker array and sound-board. Our goal was to enhance the quality of sound within the church itself, as well as to improve the audio portion of our ZOOM presentations. The video quality was fine, but the online audio continued to be horrible, especially regards to the music. Our microphones were working properly, but for some reason the signals were simply being lost somewhere between the mixer/amplifier and the listeners at home.

Nate, the technician who fine-tuned the newly installed system, and who does the audio work for his own church, came out several times to try to diagnose and fix the problems. We really didn’t know if it was the equipment failing us, operator error (remember, I haven’t been of sound mind in years), or some other issue. It was as baffling to him as it was to us, which was good. I hate being alone in my confusion.

Nate came, hooked everything up to his diagnostic equipment, tested all the components, and finally conducted a ZOOM call with one of his co-workers back at the shop. Bizarrely, they put me on piano so they could replicate our worship experience while they listened and diagnosed. I do NOT play piano, and even struggle to play chopsticks on the instrument. If one ever wants to experience perdition, they need go no further than to attend a piano recital where I am the featured performer. On a positive note, when I stop, the silence is quite heavenly.

In any case, they discovered the source of the problem was not with either the equipment or the operators, but with ZOOM. There is apparently an audio option that is not found in the audio or advanced settings menus. Instead, there is a tiny pop-up option on the video screen itself that is only visible on the monitor when scrolling across the video feed. The purpose of that programming toggle is to eliminate background noise so that when people are on a call, all the extraneous noise (like dogs barking, toilets flushing, music playing) is filtered out. That’s very helpful for folks who work from home. 

However, for worship, it means that everything we want the folks online to hear is filtered out by default, and the App simply needs to be toggled ON to allow that “background” noise to become part of our corporate worship. The option was always there; we simply ignored it, not really seeing it, knowing what it meant, or what it was for.

 Now that we know what to look for and what to do, we can flip the switch and focus on the tasks at hand – making a joyful noise unto the Lord, and scattering the seed (also known as “broadcasting") to the furthest reaches of the Lord’s fields. 

We live, we ask questions, we seek experts, and we learn. It’s as simple as that, which sounds good enough for me here in this, our valley.

* I should note I am ably assisted by Michael Boss, Ben Worrell, and Jen McCabe in the loft. This is NOT a solo gig!!!

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)