Dealing with Dinosaurs

This week many of us had an incredible shock when we opened up our utility bills.  Heating costs, electricity, even our town services were up.  Then CBC had a news article that World's five biggest oil majors likely took in $200B in profit last year, and followed it up with a story that the Alberta Government wants to give up to give oil and gas companies up to $100M in credits for meeting their legal obligations to clean up old well sites.  While these companies may not be the same big five that had the big profits, and may be subcontractors as far as I know, it seems confusing to me that they need assistance when their profits are so big.  Maybe some economist can explain things to me.  I just don’t get it.

Bills, politics, war, earthquakes, busses crashing into daycares, there are days when the news feels overwhelming and it would be tempting to stay in bed with a pillow over my head pretending the world doesn’t exist.  And folks are struggling with their fears and challenges, it’s not just me.  Someone I care deeply about is having a rough time of it and I have certainly needed my fair share of hugs this week too.  I’ll probably be taking a box of valentine chocolates up to the RCMP detachment.

The way the world is these days, it would be very easy for me to slip into a state of anger and fear, and it’s tempting to send that anger to the wrong folks.  We humans can do that very easily.  We get angry with a spouse or child when we really are angry at the boss.  Or the next door neighbor or even ourselves, especially after a fender bender. Sometimes our anger can be positive especially if it fuels work for justice.

Sometimes our anger is triggered not by injustice but by fear.  An aged friend or parent breaks a hip.  An adult child crashes their motorcycle not once but twice.  A toddler gets lost or wanders off.  We react with our dinosaur brains, acting like we are crashing through the jungle, looking for something to roar at so we feel better and help us release all those fight or flight hormones that go surging when we feel threatened.  That’s normal, that’s what humans do, that’s in our DNA.

Except Jesus wants us to be more than dinosaurs.  Our scripture reading this morning in the gospel of Matthew was part of his big Sermon on the Mountain, his “I have a Dream” speech where he outlined his vision for what he hoped to build, a community of caring compassionate human beings who would be more than just dinosaurs, they would be bold, daring and deep disciples.

That meant that they would have to find ways to cope with their anger and fear.  That their relationship with each other would be taken as seriously as their relationship with God.  That when it came to the offerings and the rituals they did in their worship, they would do so after taking responsibility for the conflicts and miscommunications they were having.  And that they would do their best to be as honest, transparent, truthful and trustworthy as they could possibly be.

That is not easy.  Especially when we live in a culture that celebrates competition, that honors star athletes, that envies the rich, that strives to emulate the self-made man, that worships independence and craves the security that they think possessions will give them.  It’s like everyone wants to be the mighty T-rex or Albertosaurus and no one wants to be a duck-billed Edmontosaurus.

Not that much different from the time of Paul and Jesus.  Jesus didn’t pull any punches.  This part of his sermon counteracts the assumption that Jesus was meek and mild and trying to be nicer than the Old Testament teachings.  I often hear people say that the Hebrew scriptures are full of angry judgement and Jesus just taught love.  Here it’s the other way around, the scriptures Jesus quotes put a limit on human behavior, but Jesus wants to go deeper and put a limit on our thoughts.  Well, maybe not a limit on them, but a request to be accountable for them. Accountable to our community of faith.  Easier said than done.

Being accountable takes reflection.  It also takes dedication and commitment.  It’s not something we can speed up, and it’s not something that is easy or fast.  Goodness knows, I wish I could stand here and tell you I’ve got this nailed down pat.  There have been times when I wouldn’t or couldn’t put my burden down and run from the altar to go fix a broken relationship.  Sometimes the relationship was mended by time, sometimes it was so unhealthy that for my own mental health, I had to have good firm boundaries in place.  Sometimes I was able to figure it out, sometimes I went for counselling to get help figuring it out.  Sometimes I wished for the milk for infants Paul talked about, rather than the adult solid food that I was expected to eat.  Sometimes I wanted to find a Paul or Apollos I could follow instead of this challenging Jesus guy.  So it’s comforting to read Paul’s two thousand year old words that while he may have planted the seeds of faith and Apollos watered them, only God grows those seeds.  Whether it’s seeds of our individual ability to recognize when we are slipping into dinosaur mode, or the water of self-knowledge, it’s hard to recognize the times we are acting like a T-Rex.

The good news is that Jesus is an amazing archaeologist, so good he makes Phil Currie look like an amateur.  When we come together to sing and think and reflect on his teachings, it’s like he takes another layer away from our tough dinosaur hides to reveal the fragile fossils beneath the surface that aremaking us roar and stomp as we try to protect them.  Good news for us T Rex folks:  the more we come together in community, the more human we can grow to be.  Thanks be to God for the seeds Paul planted, the stories Jesus taught, the watering by people like Apollos and the many other leaders down the ages that have guided and nurtured us so we too can guide and nurture those who also choose to follow Jesus.