Curing the IBS of one’s soul

 

"Let their eyes be darkened, that they may not see, and give them continuous trembling in their loins." Psalm 69

Continuing from my last column, we live in an anxious world. There’s lots going on that causes us concern. We worry that if the “other side” wins an election, the world as we know it will end. That would be true no matter which side wins, of course. Each day is new. The world I knew yesterday does not exist anymore, except in my own memory, and I don’t want to tell you how that is doing these days!

I talked about some of the things we can do to reduce our anxiety. Turn off the television, for instance, and put your senses to work. Sometimes our brains are like records where the needle is stuck. Back in the day, you’d bump the machine and the needle would pop past the scratch and continue playing music from a new spot. We treated our records gently, but we also knew they would get worn and scratched over time. By then, though, there was a new set of music arriving on the Top Forty, so we simply moved on and discovered new joys, new sounds, new lyrics, and new artists.

That’s harder to do internally, of course. My brain loves scratchy records. I find it far easier to bring up the slights and injuries of the past than the wonderful things that have happened. When I’m hurt, my brain is velcro; when good things happen, it’s teflon. 

I was glancing at the psalm posted above and couldn’t help but notice just how vindictive the psalmist was. Every now and then we see the dark side of the faithful. In this particular psalm, the author goes on and on about all the terrible things he would love to see God do to those who have irritated the writer. While the sentiments disturb me, I find I understand them all too well.

When people anger us, we want vengeance. I knew a man once who hurt me terribly; he did me a real injustice. One day I heard he’d contracted shingles. Did I pray for his healing? Of course not. I rejoiced and hoped it was a painfully bad case! For a few minutes. I knew in my heart of hearts that I’d been hurt, but to wish pain on others just isn’t right. Even if we feel justified at the moment, we are called to be better than that.

The psalms (and other scriptures) are often mirrors against which we look and see ourselves. While there’s not much I can do about my enemies “out there,” I can certainly be aware of those enemies that lie within my breast, like sloth, lust, anger, pride, envy, gluttony, and greed – the seven deadly sins, as they’re sometimes called. I call them the Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) of the Soul; they cause our loins (figuratively) to quiver, our bowels to run. They are a cancer to us all.

A lot of the anxiety people have to deal with is a result of issues that have never been fully dealt with or resolved. We can’t undo the past, of course; it’s history. I’ve learned to turn things like that over to God and move on. One friend says he tosses those memories into the Lake of Misery and posts No Fishing on the bank.

Finding techniques that work is good. I don’t like how I feel when I’m engaged in conflict, or when I have to deal with toxic people. I ask myself: Is there anything you can do about this? If the answer is no, I leave it and move on. To dwell on things, people, or situations we can’t change is hazardous to one’s well-being. 

What I can change, though, is my attitude. I don’t pray for my enemies in order to heap coals upon their heads, but to unload manure from my own knapsack. I’ve always felt that God has a special filter through which good prayers go directly to God, and the rest go through a heavenly shredder. I find that when I pray right, my soul is at rest, my anxiety is reduced, and my loins quit quaking. It gives me peace here in this, our valley. May you find your peace here, too, as well.

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)

Dancing with Herod

This morning I had to check the calendar. We don’t usually hear anything about John the Baptist until December when he’s down at the Jordan baptizing the whole countryside; telling folks to repent; and calling the curious looky-loos a brood of vipers.

I don’t know about you, but I like John. I like his straight-forward manner. At least I like it when he’s pointing out YOUR faults. I’m not sure I would like it if he was pointing out what’s wrong with me, and my life, and my relationship with God. Who does? Who likes it when people point out our faults? Who likes it when people remind us we’re falling short in our responsibilities?

Tell me, if you had a choice, would you rather sit down to dinner with John or Jesus? Who do you think would be the better company? Who do you think would be more fun at a party?

You know, the powers that be didn’t like either one. They didn’t like John, and they didn’t like Jesus. “John’s an old fuddy-duddy,” they said. “Jesus is an irreverent party animal,” they said. One’s too serious, and the other’s got no boundaries. 

John was fine when he was down in the valley, but somehow he got up in Herod’s face, and that’s where we find John today. He’s in jail. He’s in time out. It was one thing when he told the neighborhood schmucks they had to change their way of life.  It was one thing when he told the nameless, faceless throng they had to clean up their act (which is sort of what baptism represents – washing away life’s dirt).

It was one thing when John told the folks down at the Casino their lives stunk like stale beer and old smoke. It was quite another when he told folks in church and synagogue their lives weren’t much better; and it was the last straw when he told Herod – when he told the powers that be – that their lives were just as messed up as the lives of the crowd at the Calico Cupboard or Dad’s Diner.

The NERVE of the guy!

So Herod threw him in jail, and you and I sit here all safe and comfortable. John’s in jail and there’s nothing you and I can do about it. Whew! That was a close call; because there is nothing scarier than having to get up and do something when we see something wrong.

It’s interesting to note this story comes not only in July, for us, but comes just when Jesus has sent his disciples out 2x2 to preach the gospel, heal the sick, and to cast out demons. 

Mark is on a roll. Jesus is on a roll. He just had a bit of a stumble last week in Nazareth where his neighbors turned their backs on him and would have preferred killing him for daring to try to be somebody – for living above his station in life, or for doing things that were clearly above his pay grade and beyond his credentials.

But that’s the way it is in the world. Sometimes you’re the windshield and sometimes you’re the bug. Either way, you get a mess and a loss of clarity.

Jesus doesn’t let this hiccough slow him down, though. He tells his friends, “Don’t let their dirt weigh you down. When you’re welcomed, share the peace of God. When you’re rejected, move on. Don’t mix your tears with their dirt and make mud. Life’s too short to get stuck in the mud, so shake out the dirt and move on.”

So it’s here where Jesus has sent out the Twelve, and it’s here where we get the news: John is dead.

Like a wet newspaper slapped down on the coffee table, Mark drops the news; Jesus sends out the Twelve, tells them “Don’t rely on anything more than your faith in God and the grace of good neighbors,” and BAM: “By the way, John’s dead. Herod killed him and Boss-man wondered if Jesus might be ‘John-come-back-from-the-dead’ to haunt him.”

What happened? Well, it seems that John called Herod out on his arrogance, his abuse of power, his putting himself above the Law – above Torah. People who think they’re above the law – that’s an age-old problem, isn’t it?

That’s putting it mildly. Herod put away his own wife – not a divorce, really, but just shoved her aside – and then took Herodias (who was his sister-in-law AND his niece) and he married her. Talk about incest on so many levels! John said, “Even by your standards, that’s sick.”

So Herod put John in jail, but Herodias wanted him dead. Herod didn’t want to upset the locals, so he kept John around. John was like a little bobble-head toy Herod would bring out from time to time to have a chat with. Herod wasn’t interested in changing or being changed. He just wanted people to know he was very much in charge – show them the hammer – but show them his softer, gentler, kinder side by keeping John alive – an olive branch, if you will.

But as we heard, all that ended when Herod threw himself a birthday party, and once he and his friends were drunk, he had his own step-daughter (who was also his niece) Dance for the Stars, and with ego running rampant – well, you know the story. She danced, he promised, she checked with her mother the Queen, the Queen said, “Off with his head,” Princess says, “Off with his head, but bring it on a platter; after all, this IS a formal occasion!” 

So what are we supposed to make of all this? 

John’s disciples come and take his body away and lay it reverently in a tomb. We get a foreshadowing of Jesus’ own arrest, execution, and burial, don’t we? 

Sandwiched between their going out and coming back (the disciples, that is), we get the story of John’s arrest, execution, and burial. 

It is a reminder that discipleship can be very costly. It is a reminder that doing the right things and doing good things is no guarantee you won’t be hurt. There is a real danger in naming what is wrong in the world and trying to change it.

The story compels us to ask the question: Where are we in this story?

Are we disciples, relying on our faith and the good grace of our neighbors to share the Gospel, bring comfort to the afflicted, and making the world a better place?

Are we Herod, firmly in charge, and with just enough curiosity to come out once a week to dust off our Bibles and prayer books – just enough for the world to see a little bit of piety and compassion, and then put it safely back into the dungeon until it’s time to draw it back out: next week; same time; same station?

Like Herod, sometimes we let our egos run amok. Like one time Barb and I were driving home from Virginia City to Ennis. It was snowing and I had cleared the windshield, but I’d forgotten to clear the headlights, so it was dark and there’s no lights in Montana. I was ready to pull over to clear the headlights when Barb said, “You need to pull over and clear the headlights.”

Something snapped. No one’s going to tell ME what to do, so I kept going. Every time I was ready to pull over, she’d tell me what I needed to do. That was always good for another mile. Dumb. Absolutely dumb on my part. But we do that. We need to recognize that in ourselves. There’s some of Herod in me.

Are we Herodias that wants to kill any thing or any one who dares suggest our thinking or our actions might not be right with God – or just plain sick? 

A man I knew and respected some years ago hurt me bad and threw me under the proverbial bus one time. It was devastating. A few years later I heard he’d contracted shingles. Did I pray for him? Of course not! I rejoiced. For a few moments, I reveled in his pain and suffering. But I also knew that is NOT what Jesus wants of us, or from us. So I repented. There is some of Herodias in me still.

Are we Salome? She wanted to be accepted; she lusted for the approval of her step-dad/uncle, and of her mother. (To be honest, I think Herod would have paid me NOT to dance), but pleasing others is sometimes an issue we struggle with.

Or are we spectators, sitting at the banquet, enjoying the show, but taking no responsibility for what we see happening – neither placing our hand on the sword, nor holding it up to prevent the evil from even happening?

What’s your role in this story?

What is Christ Church’s role in this story?

You will need to answer the first question for yourself.

Vestry will need to answer the second question.

But here is one last point I want us to keep in mind: Each of us takes on each of those roles at some point in our lives – and sometimes all of them at the same time; sometimes the bug, sometimes the windshield, but always messy.

The question is not who we are in this story, but whether we’re willing to become the people God knows we can be, in order to carry out the work that God has laid before us.

That’s the question. And I hope you and I will take our time at coffee and throughout the week to wrestle with those questions, and to come back next week as those who have set their hope on Christ, that “we might live for the praise of his glory.” (Eph. 1:10?) Amen.

Sermon delivered to Christ Church, Anacortes, WA

Fr. Keith+ 07/14/2024

Sleeping soundly in anxious times

 

"I wait for the Lord; my soul waits for him; in [God’s] word is my hope." Psalm 130:4

Life is precarious. We live in anxious times. Amongst the many roles I carried out in active ministry was the role of comforter. I don’t know that I was always very good at it, but I tended to keep a fairly level head in place as others were losing theirs.

Comfort doesn’t mean easy (as in, “my easy chair is quite comfortable”), but conveys a sense of strength or sufficiency. I sleep in comfort because I have food in my belly and a roof over my head. Whenever I take a trip, I’ve got my cell-phone in my pocket and a paper map in the glove box. Not only can I read a map, by the way, I can refold it properly (and while driving, if need be – but don’t tell anyone).

I don’t know what exactly causes anxiety. I am sure it is a vestigial trait left over from our days of dodging sabretooth tigers and dive-bombing pterodactyls. It’s how we survived as a species. We didn’t survive by being anxious, but by being alert to our surroundings. Anxiety is simply alertness that’s gone bonkers, that’s running amuck.

We all face anxiety from time to time. I got a text message the other day reminding me a certain bill was due the next day. I experienced a startle reflex; adrenaline squirted into my bloodstream; my heartbeat increased, as did my respiration and blood pressure. I was filled with a sudden sense of dread, for I am NEVER (all caps) late paying my bills. So I opened up my bank app and confirmed I had, indeed, paid the bill when I had gotten it weeks earlier. My bill-pay system is set up to remind me of upcoming bills, and doesn’t have a built-in feature to cancel notifications when the silly thing has been paid.

The point is, I could have gotten bogged down in the pond of despond, or gone into full-blown feces-tossing monkey mode (as happens on occasion – what good is it being descended from apes if we can’t act like it every now and then?). I could have, but I didn’t.

No, while being alert and experiencing anxiety have their place, the question before us is: What to do?

Anxiety short-circuits the brain, so I find it most helpful to address anxiety by grounding myself in reality. We have five senses, so if I find my heart up in my throat over some issue (real or imagined), I set it (that feeling, emotion) aside and put my senses to work. I may pick up my coffee mug (touch) and look at it (sight). Which mug am I using? Where did I get it? How was the coffee this morning (taste). Inhale (smell). Can I hear the coffee sloshing around the mug (hearing)? Those few moments of distraction are generally all I need to settle the monkey brain.

The second thing I do to reduce anxiety is to address what’s causing it. If it’s the news, turn it off. Burying one’s head in the sand creates its own issues, but if talking heads and “Breaking News” is breaking you, then turn it off. The only thing one needs from the media are Amber Alerts and Tsunami Warnings. Everything else is noise.

Third, do what you can, not what you can’t. When our roof sprung a leak the other day, we did not sit passively and do nothing. We called a roofer. We unplugged the microwave through which the water was dripping, and sopped up the water as it dripped. We waited for the roofer, and when they arrived, we rejoiced. They found the leak and patched it in under five minutes! 

The psalmist calls out to God in an anxious time (Psalm 130): “Out of the depths I have called to you, O Lord …” but they don’t stay there. Instead, they wait. They don’t sit on their thumbs. They’re not passive. They make amends. They clean house. They prepare their hearts and homes for the One who will make things right. 

Jesus says, “Why worry? God cares for birds and lilies. How much more does God care for y’all.” Like Jose the roofer, God’s got us covered here in this, our valley. That’s comforting to know.

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)

Untangling mysteries of sound investments

 

"But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary." Isaiah 40:31

One of my favorite scenes in the old television movie, A Christmas Story, is the one where the family has put up the Christmas tree and is ready to plug in the lights. The Old Man (as he is called throughout the film) kneels before a cluster of plugs, cords, cables, and outlet multipliers, trying to figure out where he will plug in the tree. He makes his decision, sacrifices one of the cords, (“Well,” he says, “something’s got to go”), plugs in the tree, and immediately blows the circuit.

Modern electrical codes require more outlets in each room today, and more circuits, but the proliferation of devices and appliances that require outlets for charging have continued to outstrip the underwriters’ capacity to provide space for everything.

Last month the Fire Inspector visited our church and saw what could only be described as the remains of an eagle’s nest sitting at the base of our sound system. He immediately put a nitroglycerine tablet under his tongue, took two puffs off an industrial strength inhaler, fanned himself vigorously with his code book and clipboard, and suggested we might want to consider cleaning up all the cords, cables, and daisy-chained power strips before his next visit. 

The mess

He gave us two weeks to bring it all up to snuff. I was sad, as I had worked so hard to bring power to all the devices required to worship God in the modern era (and probably the finest eagle’s nest on the block). Furthermore, I don’t do snuff. Still, if that’s what the Inspector wanted, I’d get the job done.

I went online and found a single power strip that would handle all of our devices (and “fat plugs”), re-routed all of the cables and cords, utilizing proper ties, clips, and doo-dads, and created a spreadsheet identifying where every appliance, adaptor, and cable went, and which outlet they were plugged into. Visiting eagles no longer have a place to nest, but that’s the price of safety.

I have to admit that while I might have wanted to do an eye-roll over this “need” to clean up the mess behind the cabinet in the organ loft, it wasn’t all that difficult. It simply took a set of fresh eyes to see what was there, identify the hazards (and yes, I expect a fire marshal to know fire hazards far better than me), and let me know what needed to be done to make everything safer for everyone. 

Better Organized

While some folks may decry the “need” for inspectors to “find something wrong” in order to justify their existence, it has been my experience that inspectors know far too well the things that can go wrong when we use “common sense” and ignore the rules. There was nothing there that couldn’t be fixed with a little time, a few items readily available to buy to make things right, and the small amount of elbow grease necessary to get the job done.

The end result is a space that is much neater, better organized, and far safer than it was before.

I learned a long time ago that one can scream and cry and wail and moan all they want to when faced with a task, or they can just shut up and do what’s needed and leave the drama to the Screen Actors Guild. One’s going to have to do what they’ve got to do, so they may as well kick the angst to the curb and just do it.

I find that helpful in life. Stop arguing with life’s umpires. Ask them what they need; ask them what your options are for best results. Stand in their shoes to see what they see and lean on the wisdom and experience they bring to the floor. Working together brings a lot more peace of mind and a lot more safety.

More often than not, I find working WITH others, rather than against them, is a far wiser use of time and resources. It’s a sound investment, if you will, in this, our less-tangled 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)

Alternative Addresses for GOD

 

There has been some discussion in my neck of the woods regarding how we address God in our Liturgies. The traditional form usually uses masculine images and their corresponding pronouns. For instance, "The Lord be with you." Lord is masculine. We never address God as Lady; we would never say, "The Lady be with you." We pray, "... for all who serve God in his church." One alternative is to neuter God and change that line to "For all who serve God in the Church." That's a little better, in terms of inclusive language, but separates the Church (also known as the Body of Christ, the Bride of Christ, and something more than the institution we have come to know) from the One who calls the Church into being. So we save a pronoun, but we lose a little bit of the relationship. Is there something we can do, or do better? I think so.

I have stylistic issues with replacing “The LORD be with you” with “God be with you.” It isn't the shift from a masculine noun to a more neutral noun, but a loss of balance between the five syllable phrase and it's four syllable counterpart. It is the linguistic equivalent of an off-balance washing machine. Liturgy is a song, a dance; it requires balance, movement, grace. No clunks, please.

I don’t have a problem with inclusive language, but worry that the choices we make are often too safe, bland, or (to be honest) boring. I appreciate the desire to avoid masculine pronouns, and too much “they” and “them” can both sound lame and have a potential to nudge us into polytheistic heresies or the confusions of the Persons of the Trinity. Rather than being safe, boring, or heretical, I suggest some alternatives for consideration.

The Divine One be with you … and also with you.

Adonai be with you … and also with you.

God the healer be with you … and also with you.

The One who creates be with you … and also with you.

The Holy One be with you … and also with you.

The One who embraces their creation be with you … and also with you.

The One who holds life in the palm of their hand be with you … and also with you.

The One who took up their cross be with you … and also with you.

The One who sanctifies be with you ... and also with you.

The One who enlightens be with you … and also with you.

God of love be with you … and also with you.

God who gives generously of themselves be with you … and also with you.

The list can go on and on. God has many attributes with which people of any gender can identify. We can also feel free to bounce between masculine and feminine pronouns as the Spirit leads (e.g. God who keeps us in the palm of her hand be with you … God at who’s breast we nurse be with you … God who gives new birth to us be with you … etc.) The key, in my opinion, is to find and utilize biblical imagery. God is not just a Warrior in the Bible; God is also a nurse-maid. God is not just a spy in the sky (the roving eye), but a woman who seeks her lost valuables.

Changing up our images and metaphors can freshen our worship without being coy, clever, or drawing us into pop-cultural references that could go stale in time (like the “Star Wars” liturgy AKA Eucharistic Prayer C (which I still love, by the way).

I don’t know what processes one might need to go through to acquire permission to change things up, but since so many churches are printing their services in full in place of using the actual BCP, tweaking some of these godly addresses in the Prayers of the People and Invitations to pray could rather easily be incorporated in those reformed liturgies.

Anyway, it’s just a thought here in this, God’s world. Perhaps the Queen of Heaven will enlighten us with other options. Peace!

The Rev. Keith Axberg, Retired

What God has wrought in us

 

“Remember, O Lord, what you have wrought in us … and, as you have called us to your service, make us worthy of our calling …” Book of Common Prayer, 1979

We have had a lot of rain here in my neck of the woods this spring. I know this area has a reputation for being wet and gray and miserable year-round. Unfortunately, folks have learned that’s a lie, and so the population of the state has grown enough to make me groan.

That’s OK, though. People have to live someplace, and if one has the means to relocate, why not? The other day our landscaper, Isaias, brought a few plants to add to our front yard. I’d mentioned my interest in having more color out front. Green is nice, but other colors of the rainbow are also delightful.

I should add that my wife and I generally do our own planting and flower-buying, but we were having a new retaining wall installed to prevent our front yard from leaving us and moving across the street. Clergy often live in glass houses, so I didn’t want our neighbors (who are very nice, by the way) to have any (more) dirt on us. Hence, a retaining wall.

Anyway, Isaias was adjusting one of the new shrubs, and a tiny green frog jumped out of the planter pot onto the fresh black mulch and seemed confused in his or her new surroundings. I found myself immediately worrying about the little critter. 

Did they have some place to go? Would they be able to find friends with whom to hang and get a lay of the land? The frogs around here tend to be more brown than green. Would they be judged for the color of their skin or by the content of their character?

Shifts in geography are always a little unsettling. While I may worry about how the frog will do with this major resettlement event, I suspect this particular “pseudacris regilla” will be primarily concerned with finding a place that is sheltered from birds and predators, and with access to adequate supplies of food, water, and mates – the basics of life.

We humans are interested in and in need of the basics of life, too. We need more than that, though. I don’t know if frogs can dream dreams or envision a brighter future where they can hop across verdant fields of grass without fear of being picked off by crows or jays, but we humans can and do.

Unlike the lilies of the field, the birds of the air, or the frogs in the bushes, we humans tend to fret and worry more than is either necessary or healthy. Worry stresses the body, mind, and spirit. I like the prayer (above); we ask God to remember what God has “wrought” in us. We were made for so much more than eating, drinking, and procreating. Individually, we are gifted.

More than being “gifted,” we’ve been called to God’s service. I should note that one doesn’t have to believe in God, or the God of the Bible to fulfill their purpose as a human being. In fact, sometimes one’s faith can get in the way of being a decent human being, but that’s a matter for discussion another time.

What I’m talking about here is being aware of and sensitive to the world around us. That includes the earth we walk on, the trees that give us shade, and the zillion other life forms that make up our part of the universe. 

It costs nothing to be kind and attentive. I’ll confess I don’t mind squishing mosquitoes (although I’m sure God has a purpose for them, too). I don’t smash them to be cruel, but to defend myself from the diseases mossies may carry. But if a creature crosses my path, I strive to watch out for it, to not scare it or upset it.

We have plenty of opportunities to be kind and gentle. More than that, we are made to serve one another. Not to be subservient, but to work together as equals. If one wants a bandwagon to hop on, I would recommend that one 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)

Proper 4, Year B: Sabbath: The Law of Life

Proper 4 (2nd Sunday after Pentecost)

St. Paul’s (Mount Vernon, WA)

Track 2: Deuteronomy 5:12-15; Psalm 81:1-10; 2 Corinthians 4:5-12; Mark 2:23-3:6

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.

My mother would not have approved.

In the Gospel this morning, Jesus is brought up short by some Pharisees (people who were quite nit-picky about Torah – the “Law and Order” crowd, we might call them). Jesus and his friends were walking along one day – it was the Sabbath – and they were strolling through some fields plucking heads of grain off some oats, wheat, or barley as they were passing through.

The Pharisees saw this and said, “Whoa, wait a minute. You can’t do that; it’s the Sabbath!”

Now, it was bad enough for the disciples to be violating the Sabbath, but what’s worse is that Jesus, the Rabbi, the Teacher, the Chaperone on this little class outing let them do it!

“You should know better,” they said.

And Jesus does. Jesus knows the Law. Jesus knows the Torah. Jesus knows the rules. Jesus knows what it means to be a good, faithful Jew. Or if he didn’t know, he SHOULD have known. Otherwise he should turn in his teaching credentials.

Then Jesus answers them with that classic fourth grade deflection: “Yes, but they did it. They got away with it!”

He’s pointing back to a time when David (before he was King David) was staying one step ahead of King Saul (who was out to kill him). David was a renegade in those days, and he and his men were hot, tired, thirsty, and hungry, so they dipped into the House of Worship (this was before there was a proper temple) and ate what we used to call the Shew Bread. It was reserved for the priests, the clergy, the Upper Crust of society, if you will.

“They did it,” says Jesus, and we expect him to answer, “so why can’t we?”

My mother would not have accepted that answer. She would not have approved.

Mothers across America (and maybe Dads, too) have had to deal with the argument put forth by kids since time immemorial: “Yeah, but what about them?”

“Yeah, they get to stay up late on a school night; they get to go to the concert; they get to do this; they get to do that …”

On and on it goes. And what do mothers say? How do parents respond?

“If Suzy’s mother let her jump off the cliff, that’s fine; I’m not Suzy’s mother. I’m your mother and I have my reasons.”

The only argument left at that point is, “Well, that’s just not fair,” at which point we parents collectively roll our eyes and tell them: (prompt): Life’s not fair!

But did you notice, Jesus did not take that route. He used that little bit of rationalization to draw in his opponents, to get to the point he really wanted to make: his teaching point. He didn’t say, “Well, David broke the Law then, so I can break the Law now.”

He didn’t do that. He said (in essence), “The overarching purpose of Law (of Torah) is Life. Torah does not shackle us with rules, but frees us to live. God did not give us Sabbath to nail us down, but to free us up.”

Jesus is revealing to them something we might call today a Paradigm Shift.

A paradigm shift is that Ah Ha you get when you not only see things differently, but shift your underlying assumptions about it.

For example, a man invents a process for putting an image onto paper using heat and some special stuff he’s cooked up. He took it to Kodak to show them a new way to make pictures and they laughed him out of the office. “That’s not how photography works,” they said. The man found other investors and invented the thing that makes our bulletins possible: XEROX! 

The underlying assumption of Kodak was that photography required film, silver nitrates, special paper, chemical solutions, fixers, and all that nonsense. The Paradigm train came to them, and they missed it by a mile.

A second example: A man goes to Switzerland to show them they could make time pieces using quartz crystals. The Swiss clock industry laughed him out of the room. “That’s not how you make watches and clocks, “ they said. “You need gears und springs und little hands that go ticky tocky.”

They laughed him out of the room, so he went to Japan. Has anyone heard of Seiko? There is another way to keep time, using … rocks? Quartz? Another group that missed the Paradigm train.

One last example: I was graduating from the Spokane Police Academy and needed to contact one of my friends in Pullman to tell him where the ceremony would be and what time, but when I dialed his number, I got a message the call couldn’t go through because the lines between Spokane and Pullman were down.

I dialed the operator and told her my problem. She said she was sorry, but the lines were down and she couldn’t make the connection. Then I said, “Well, can’t you go through the back door?” 

She said, “What do you mean?”

I said, “Can’t you route the call from Spokane to Coeur d-Alene, down to Moscow, and then over to Pullman?”

She paused for a moment and said, “Yeah, that would work.” And we were able to make the connection.

That, by the way, is how the internet works, routing traffic by finding the best route it can. So I stand here today to let you in on a little secret; it wasn’t Al Gore who invented the Internet; that was me.

Anyway, a Paradigm Shift is all about finding new ways to see the world by being willing to set aside assumptions that may no longer be working well for us, and finding there may be a better way to do things, to approach things …

… a better way to live, and that’s what Jesus is doing.

Sabbath isn’t about NOT WORKING. It’s not even really about RESTING. It’s finding a way to live in the presence of God and with one’s neighbor.

This is Pride Month, and we are in the midst of another major Paradigm Shift where we’ve been busy breaking the chains that defined who we’re supposed to love and how we’re supposed to love, and what we’re supposed to look like and dress like, and behave, and all that sort of stuff.

These changes can be very unsettling. I’d like you to take your hands and clasp them together, like this (demonstrate).

Now, when I clasp my hands, my left thumb is always on top. Always. I don’t have to think about it. Now I want you to switch, so your other thumb is on top. Switch. (pause)

First, notice you had to think about it. Tell me, does that feel natural? To me, it feels kind of weird and icky. That’s because I’m not used to it.

There is no law that tells us which thumb should be on top. Thumbs aren’t the boss of us. God gave us thumbs to help us do the things we need to do. 

“Loving God, neighbor, and self … that’s the thumbery of the Law.”

The point Jesus is making is underscored by the second scene in today’s Gospel reading where a man comes to Jesus with a hand that is useless. The paradigm of the day would have said, first of all, this man is a sinner, otherwise God would not have afflicted him this way. Secondly, it is the Sabbath, so a healer (especially) should not heal. If you break this norm, Jesus, all heck will break loose!

Jesus asks, “Is this OK (to heal on the Sabbath)?” 

The Pharisees stood there, their hearts shackled to the stone tablets of Torah. Their hearts were as cold, dark, and immoveable as Mount Sinai. Their eyes said, “We double-dog dare you; we TRIPLE-DOG dare you.”

What they said did not matter. What they thought did not matter. Jesus ignored the Torah-ble people staring him down. Turning to the man with the withered hand, Jesus simply said, “Stretch out your hand.” He did as Jesus said, and he was made whole; he was made holy, by Golly.

We have the opportunity today to choose whether to live like those Pharisees, bound and shackled by rules and traditions (which isn’t to say that rules and traditions aren’t important), but if those rules keep us from living and sharing the light and life God has for us and for the world around us, then what good are they? What good are we?

Just because it isn’t Lent, that doesn’t mean we don’t need to engage in self-reflection and ask God to transform our withered hands and clenched fists and open them to release God’s grace and love in good and kindly service here in this, our grain picking community of saints and sinners.

Amen.

The Rev. Keith Axberg, Retired