Advent 2: A Vision for peace -- no shortcuts

 Second Sunday of Advent

Year A – Visions For Peace – No Shortcuts

Isaiah 11:1-10 A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse

Romans 15:4-13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing

Matthew 3:1-12 Bear fruit worthy of repentance. 

Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19 He shall defend the needy … rescue the poor

Collect: Merciful God, who sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Invocation: 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.

Wouldn’t it be nice to have peace in the world?

No more war … no more killing … no more fighting between Christians and Muslims, Shiites and Sunnis, Buddhists and Hindus, Israelis and Palestinians; No more death marches … No more suicide bombers …

Wouldn’t it be nice to have PEACE ON EARTH?

If we can’t have PEACE ON EARTH,

How about peace in our families?

A week without arguing with your spouse?

A week without the kids fighting and arguing over every little thing?

Life – where tempers don’t flare, 

Where peace and harmony predominate?

Wouldn’t that be lovely?

I f we can’t have peace on earth or in our families,

Wouldn’t it be nice to have peace in the Church?

Surely we can have peace in the Church –

The land where the Prince of Peace rules with a velvet glove and a gentle touch;

Where all are welcome – just as they are without one plea, and where never is heard a discouraging word … right? 

Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

If we can’t have peace in the world, or in families, or in Church,

Wouldn’t it be nice to have personal peace?

Wouldn’t it be nice not to be so harsh on ourselves?

Wouldn’t it be nice to not be so critical of shortcomings – after all, we’re only human?

Wouldn’t it be nice NOT to have to over-drink, or over-eat, or over-think?

Wouldn’t it be nice to have peace of mind and peace of soul?

Wouldn’t that be delightful?

Wouldn’t it be nice to have some peace in our neighborhoods?  

Wouldn’t it be nice NOT to have to fret over rising prices? The COSTS of Christmas shopping? Threats of foreclosures? 

Increasingly young parents are shuffling all over the county asking for help – presents for their kids for Christmas; help for power/phone bills; help for rent; help for car repairs.

Wouldn’t it be nice to have peace on the streets?

Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

Don’t you long for Peace in the world?  Don’t we all yearn for more peace?  More security? More justice?  More equity? More mercy?  More kindness?

Isaiah felt the same way.  Isaiah was a man who longed for peace, like a man in the desert longs for water, or a hungry woman yearns for bread, or a neglected child yearns for a warm embrace.

Isaiah lived around 700 BC.  Believe it or not, there was fighting in the Middle East 2,700 years ago.  Can you believe it?!

Israel vs. the Egyptians, the Assyrians, the Babylonians, the Hivites, Amorites, Perizzites, Jebusites, (and Termites, for all we know!).

From the age of three, boys in the Middle East (and in many other cultures, I suspect) were taught the arts of war: How to fight and how to kill.  Consider the word of God from one of the Psalms (18:33-42):

33 It is God who girds me about with strength *

    and makes my way secure.     

34 He makes me sure-footed like a deer *

    and lets me stand firm on the heights.     

35 He trains my hands for battle *

    and my arms for bending even a bow of bronze.     

36 You have given me your shield of victory; *

    your right hand also sustains me;

    your loving care makes me great.     

37 You lengthen my stride beneath me, *

    and my ankles do not give way.     

38 I pursue my enemies and overtake them; *

    I will not turn back till I have destroyed them.     

39 I strike them down, and they cannot rise; *

    they fall defeated at my feet.     

40 You have girded me with strength for the battle; *

    you have cast down my adversaries beneath me;

    you have put my enemies to flight.     

41 I destroy those who hate me;

they cry out, but there is none to help them; *

    they cry to the LORD, but he does not answer.     

42 I beat them small like dust before the wind; *

    I trample them like mud in the streets.

Imagine Isaiah’s world; for 40 years watching people killing and being killed; plundering and being plundered.

Isaiah was sick of it – bone weary sick of it.

Isaiah longed for peace, just as a thirsty man longs for water; and as a hungry woman yearns for bread; and as an orphan child yearns for a family.

Have you ever wondered why we yearn for peace?

Isaiah knows: God made us for peace.

God made us to be at peace with all of creation.

God made us to be stewards of creation: to tend the plants; to care for all living things.  

God made us in her image: a God of peace and harmony;

Not God in charge of Peace & Harmony, but God whose inner character is peace and harmony 

(John 17: May THEY be one, as the Father & I are one).

When God created Adam & Eve, it was NOT so they could fight with each other, but so they could enjoy one another, help one another, support one another.  Don’t you think so?

That is why fighting seems so UNNATURAL.

Your guts churn; the adrenaline rushes; the face blushes; and your body screams for relief.

I’ve always admired those goats that, when you startle them, they just keel over.  “If you’re going to eat me, just get it over with.  Otherwise, just go away and I’ll be fine.”  That’s the way I feel about conflict.

So, if God created us for peace, what happened?

In a word: Sin.

Sin entered the world and wedged itself between us and God; and between us and our neighbors.

Sin says you’re better than you really are.

Sin says your neighbor (wife, spouse, co-worker, immigrant, alien, fill-in-the-blank) is worse than they really are.

Sin says there is a problem, so fix it – better yet, fix blame!

Forget the rules; forget the costs; the ENDS justify the means.

Sin says “what’s mine is mine, and what’s yours OUGHT to be mine.”

My home; my job; my family; my health; my country; my church;

My, my, my: No wonder there’s no peace, says Isaiah.

But it doesn’t have to be that way.

Isaiah dreamed of peace – Shalom.

Isaiah dreamed of a time 

when the wolf would lie down with the lamb;

when the leopard would lie down with the kid;

the calf and the lion and the fatling together;

with a child leading the parade.

The cow and the bear shall graze;

Their young shall lie down together;

The lion shall eat straw like the ox (so no blood needs to be shed);

A nursing child can play with snakes.

No longer will they hurt or destroy on God’s holy mountain;

For THE EARTH will be full of the knowledge of the LORD

As the waters cover the sea.

So, what does it take to have peace – true peace – on the earth?

We go back to Genesis:

When God created the human race, God breathed on Adam (which means human, by the way), and Adam came alive – a living soul; 

Life is dependent on God’s Spirit.

When sin enters the world, the Spirit gets squeezed out, like water from a rag.

But every so often, we read of the Spirit touching a life here and there:

Abraham & Sarah are touched for a moment – and God’s promise of an heir is kept.

Moses speaks to a bush that burns without being consumed – and God delivers on his promise to free those in bondage.

The Spirit of God falls upon 70 elders in the wilderness – and justice is served.

But these are mere moments in human history – flashes in the dark.

But in Isaiah’s Dream, in Isaiah’s vision,

The Spirit of God will come down and no longer will the Divine flame flicker for a moment on a person here, or a person there.

No, the Spirit of God will come down, says Isaiah, and fall on one person, and from that ONE, the Spirit of God will flow out over all the earth and drench the world AS AT THE BEGINNING – and we will know that the Holy One has done it.  

It was not done by us; not by the cleverness of our minds, or the strength of our arms, but by the grace of God, and of God alone.

That ONE, of course, is Jesus.

He’s the “reason for the season” – remember?

He placed his hands into the brood of vipers John the Baptist talked about in our Gospel reading.  He stuck his hand into the vipers’ den and drew the poison to himself so that you and I might have peace with God, and with one another, and (and here is the kicker) that we might live.

So, to have peace in your life; what is required?

I would suggest several possibilities of:

It’s to live with the Prince of Peace, and to have the Prince of Peace live with you.  

We should be willing to at least meet God half-way.  

If God is peripheral, we can’t have peace.

You know the song: What a friend we have in Jesus?  

What I like most about my friends is they don’t live with me; but true friends live here (in my heart).  In truth, I want them to be at home in my house, and I want to be at home in theirs.

If God is a stranger though, and not a friend, it is hard to know the kind of peace that passes all understanding, isn’t it?  So we need God centered right here – right here in our hearts.

To have the Prince of Peace live with us requires change.

When Barb & I first started dating, I was a bachelor in EVERY sense of the word.  My home looked like it.  I could go ten years and never fill the bag on a vacuum!  But when we got serious, life changed – for the better.

Was it to avoid fights? No, it was to fulfill love.

When the Prince of Peace comes into our lives, we see the world as the beloved sees it, and we deal with it.  You don’t cover it up, you clean it up.  You don’t toss it aside, you fix or replace it.

It’s a process, but the rewards are worth it; the rewards are delightful, and they bring peace to heart, mind, and soul.

Finally, to have the Prince of Peace live with us means we’ve got to give up shortcuts.  

Shortcuts don’t work; they don’t last.  Try putting a button on your shirt using duct tape or Elmer’s glue.  It doesn’t work!  You’ve got to get a needle and thread; you’ve got to go through the process of threading the needle, sewing the button neatly onto the shirt, checking it out (and if it is too far out of alignment with the button hole, you rip it out and try it again).

If we want to have peace, we need the Prince of Peace to come live with us; we’ve got to put our house in order; and we’ve got to be committed fully to Righteousness and Justice – and invite others to join us on our journey of discovery. There is no shortcut that will get us there.  We need the whole journey.

“What does God require of us,” asks the prophet? (Micah 6:8)

 “To do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God.”

In tough times, the temptation is to learn to make and wage war; but let me leave you with a different perspective from another Psalm: (46:9-11):

9 Come now and look upon the works of the LORD, *

    what awesome things he has done on earth.     

10 It is he who makes war to cease in all the world; *

    he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear,

    and burns the shields with fire.

11 "Be still, then, and know that I am God; *

    I will be exalted among the nations;

    I will be exalted in the earth."

What God calls of us is to bring our bows and arrows, our spears and shields, and toss them here before this altar that the Holy One may consume them with a refining fire.

To find peace is to lay down our weapons of war, and lower our shields so that we can look one another in the eye and see the other as God sees them, and so that others may look us in the eye and see what God sees, and together we can lie down in peace, and not in war or the spilling of blood.

Enough blood has been spilled in history, and the blood shed on Calvary’s height is more than ever should have been spilled.  We may not be able to stop wars “over there” (wherever “over there” is) but we can know peace in our lives, our homes, and in our church.

And so I end with one final thought from the Prophet Isaiah (41:10): Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God … That’s good enough for me.  AMEN

Delivered by the Rev. Keith Axberg to Saint Paul’s Episcopal Church, Mount Vernon, Advent 2 (12/07/2025)

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

This, Our Valley: What to do when your life is stuffed

 

"It takes time to live. Like any work of art, life needs to be thought about.” Albert Camus

Where does stuff come from? Every morning I strive to rise and shine, but these days I find myself less vertical as I rise, and I’m not sure “shine” comes close to describing the state of my mind or body as my joints and tendons snap, crackle, and pop into place as I make my way through the darkened manse, seeking to relieve that which needs relieving.

Fortunately, it doesn’t take but a few sips of the blackened brew of some magical beans to put the lead back in my pencil. I always feel like I’m one of those Thanksgiving Day balloons that rises from a shapeless pile of rubber, taking form as it’s inflated. Coffee is my helium!

Back to “stuff” – where does it all come from? Once I’ve gotten my coffee and tackled my morning meditations, I fire up my laptop to check the news (to see if the world has survived) and catch up on any emails that may have arrived by those faithful digital carrier pigeons we rely on. 

What I find choking my inbox (which is helpfully divided into separate tabs for Primary, Promotions, Social, and Update mails) is all the stuff to which I have subscribed and which isn’t, technically, junk mail or spam. It’s just a ton of fliers from every business from which I have ever bought stuff, or businesses that have products I may have been interested in at one time or another over the past thirty years, or trivia pertaining to sports, entertainment, language, education, health, and other such whatnot. Sheesh!

I am a curious sort of soul, so I find myself doing a lot of exploring. My income is limited, so most of my exploring these days is done from the convenience of my home and done via the world wide web. I find myself going down many rabbit holes on my journeys, and I am seldom bored by what I find (while the quantity of information exceeds the quality exceedingly).

Which brings me back to my original question. Where does so much of that stuff come from, and how does one choose which lane to travel? I mean, even Robert Frost never makes clear which road he eventually took when he came to the fork. He just ponders the mystery of what he might find if he were to choose right from left, the more traveled or less traveled path – and the sorrow that comes with making a decision without knowing what might have been missed if the decision had gone the other way.

Life is like that, though. Clutter. Options. Choices. Decisions (or, in my case, indecisions). 

It doesn’t take a lot of brain power to run down the list of overnight stuff that’s come in, enter checkmarks in those little boxes next to each missal, and delete the whole shootin’ match. It doesn’t take but a few seconds, but it’s a few seconds I’ll never get back. Will I miss them? Probably not. 

It just gives me something to grouse about, and the positive side of that reality is that one has to be alive to grouse about the state of things.

That’s the positive side to grumbling (beyond pulse and respiration). There is knowing that things could be better, can be better. To grouse is to say, “I don’t like how things are now,” and then adding, “so what might I do to make them better?”

Emails are easy. Delete what you don’t want. Unsubscribe to things you never read. If you need something, see if it can be acquired locally instead of through an online resource or retailer. The pandemic crisis is over, so it’s OK to leave the house, enjoy the sunshine, snow, rain, or wind. It’s OK to go for walks, wave to the neighbors, rake fallen leaves (or roll around in them), or stop to chat with friends at the local hardware store or grocer.

The point is, deal with stuff as it comes and don’t be such a stuffed shirt. Live! As Camus says, "It takes time to live. Like any work of art, life needs to be thought about.” So let’s put on our thinking caps and live 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)

This, Our Valley: What to do when your “Grrr Friend” comes to visit

 

"Give up anger, abandon fury, do not be vexed; it can only do harm” Psalm 37:8 (TANAKH)

I don’t go out of my way to be obnoxious. I don’t go out of my way to irritate people. I am careful where I tread, where I walk, how I speak, what I say. I strive not to take offense at every little thing, and strive equally not to give offense. So what’s wrong with me?

The first time I saw a copy of Desiderata, I made it my life’s goal (among many) to “go placidly among the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence” (translated by Max Ehrmann, origin unk).

There is a time and place for anger, of course. Jesus got angry on occasion, but it was seldom for the same sort of reasons you or I might get our dander up. His anger was generally directed at demons (real and metaphorical) that hurt or injured others. Jesus’ anger generally arose from matters of injustice, hypocrisy, or falsehoods in the world around him. 

Me? My anger tends to be egocentric. I have pet peeves and it really irritates me when people go around petting them all the time. 

I had a doctor’s appointment the other day that got changed while I was on my way to their office. It was a routine visit, nothing major, but my inner peeve snapped and growled – took it quite personally. Why didn’t they tell me it was changed when I confirmed the appointment an hour earlier? Grrr.

I like things to start and end on time. When I expect to see my ball game on the telly, but the earlier game is running long or goes into overtime, pre-empting my show until it’s done (the so-called “Heidi rule”) my peeve’s knickers get all bunched up and twisted. You don’t want your hand to be in my bowl of popcorn when that happens; it just isn’t safe! Grrr.

Then there are the world’s polite drivers who arrive at four way stops at the same time I do. They often have the gall to try to out-polite me, and then stop and go repeatedly as we strive mightily to figure out who is finally going to win the game of four-way chicken. Grrr.

That’s life, though, isn’t it? It’s never the big things that get us down or kill us. It’s the million  tiny little things that simply add up, pile up, and mount up until the soul snaps like the back of the proverbial straw-bearing camel. Which reminds me: Where does one get camel’s milk? From the dromedary.

Anyway, I digress. There’s a lot that can get our goats. We’re only human, and as good as life is for most of us, there are tons of little things that can (and do) get us down from time to time. Grrr.

I have often thought about putting up positive-thinking type sticky notes people post on their bathroom mirrors or refrigerators, but then I realize one of my pet peeves are all those silly positive sayings and the clutter they create on those surfaces. I sometimes want to strangle the people who write that saccharine tripe. Grrr.

So, at the risk of being simplistic, maudlin, saccharine, or falsely perky, let me just say that there has been one thing more than any other that has helped me overcome those bouts of anger or frustration that do fall upon me from time to time, and that is this. Wait. Wait. Wait.

That’s it. I don’t mean stopping in the middle of a four-way intersection or doing anything stupid like that. I just mean, wait. Pause. Take a breath or two. Shift your attention for a moment from the thing that is irritating you to something else. Anything else. 

Picture your child or grandchild’s smile. Your dog’s wagging tail. Your spouse’s return home from a trip away. The brightness of the moon or the coo of a morning dove. 

All it takes is a moment to flush the anger from your system, adjust your panties as needed, and “remember what peace there may be in silence.” Have a grrreat week, my friends 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)

This, Our Valley: Finding the funny bone – that’s humerus

 

"Hear this, you that trample on the needy, and bring to ruin the poor of the land … the Lord has sworn … surely I will never forget any of their deeds.” Amos 8 (excerpted)

There is a lot dividing our country right now, but don’t worry, I don’t do politics in this column. It is almost impossible to avoid the topic during these acrimonious times, and while I certainly have my own perspective and opinion(s) on a great many matters facing us, my goal here is and always has been to provide a space in which one can escape the hellscape that is current affairs. 

I want this to be an oasis of calm where one can find tranquility and peace. Not so much an escape from reality, but a place that is as safe as any sanctuary bounded by seven hundred words (give or take a few).

Humor is my coping mechanism. It isn’t that I take serious matters lightly, but I simply perceive them differently. I am not colorblind, and neither is my wife, but we almost never call anything the same color. Where she sees purple, I see violet. Where she sees chartreuse, I see avocado. My truck is a color that you see everywhere, but whereas one of us sees it as bluish, the other sees it as greenish, and the manufacturer calls it something else entirely, neither of which includes blue or green!

Where does humor come from? 

Funny you should ask. I don’t know the answer as I’m neither a scientist nor a doctor. I haven’t studied the brain (my own or anyone else’s for that matter) except for a few cursory psychology courses in college. I do have three quarters of a century of lived experience, so I’ve picked up  scraps of information about life and humor here and there through the ages, but as to why? What makes something funny or not? I don’t know. 

What I do know is that if I obsess over matters about which I have little or no control, I feel miserable. If I have a choice about feeling miserable or cheerful, I look for and find things that promote cheerfulness. Loose synapses and brain chemistry cause me to see things in a way others don’t. That’s just the way God made me. I can cry about it or I can laugh about it. I choose to laugh; I agree with Puck, who said, “Lord, what fools these mortals be.”

There are, of course, some forms of humor I don’t find humorous at all (and which one would not find in the hallowed pages of a family newspaper, or in a preacher’s preaching), so that works out well for me (and the paper, and the church). 

But I do enjoy dad jokes (Where do pirates get their hooks? Second hand stores), puns (a farmer is one who is outstanding in their field), malaprops (Be careful lest you meet the grim creeper), and other forms of wordplay (“Between you and me, something smells,” said one eye to the other). 

I prefer to poke fun at the arrogant (he’s a humble man with much to be humble about) or see the light side of situations (I’m glad war has rules – what we need now are referees).  

I don’t mind poking fun at myself (I identify as intelligent, but haven’t transitioned yet), but I don’t like making fun of other people (unless they REALLY deserve it). 

I enjoy hyperbole (If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a million times, Don’t exaggerate!) as well as incongruity (Why did the elephant paint its toenails red? So you wouldn’t see it hiding in the cherry tree). 

The bottom line for me (which is a funny place to find a line) is that humor can inflame folks (exposing hypocrisy), but it can also change hearts (Ah yes, saving money does make cents). One key to retaining one’s sanity during times of stress is to bear in mind that there is much we cannot control, but we CAN control how we respond to the world around us. 

I prefer to smile – to keep people wondering just what I’ve been up to. So welcome to this, our valley – a parlour where we can parlez-vous in 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)