Showing posts with label Hungry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hungry. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 23, 2021

A Serpent to Kill the Lizard Brain

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
March 14, 2021
4 Lent, B
Numbers 21:4-9
Ephesians 2:1-10

John 3:14-21



A Serpent to Kill the Lizard Brain


So, imagine you are in a desert, the wilderness, with a few hundred thousand of your closest family and friends, and you get to spend most of your day not hunting or growing crops, not worried about what you’re going to have to eat each day because food from Heaven comes down each morning and settles on the ground like dew.  You’ve worked on some housing and shelter, but otherwise, if you want to spend the day playing the lute or pipe and singing and dancing, you pretty much can because God has taken care of your needs.  


Then, you start to cry.  “We don’t like this food!  We’re gonna die!”  That’s what was going on with the people of Israel in our story from Numbers today.  “We don’t like this food (that you give us every day, God)!  We’re gonna die!”


I think of children on a long car ride, kinda hungry, pretty bored, rather uncomfortable.  They probably don’t actually think they are going to die of hunger, boredom, thirst, etc. if they were to think long and hard enough about how they’re really doing.  They might even admit that really, they’re just uncomfortable.  Listening to the anguished cries of those moderately hungry, bored, and uncomfortable children, however, it sounds like they are indeed in the last throws of starvation and death.  


To be fair, I’ve heard plenty of adults make similar anguished cries of, “This is terrible; we’re gonna die,” when really they were just uncomfortable or not overly happy with how things were going.  


So how did the people of Israel, and how do we go from the point of uncomfortable and bored to “We don’t like this food!  We’re going to die!”? 


Well, it has to do with the way our brains work.  There’s the thinking part, the frontal part of our brain, which realizes, “Yeah, no I guess I’m really not about to die; I just need a snack; I’m good.”  There’s also a lower part of our brain, which I call the lizard brain which has your basic fight or flight function.  Lizard Brain sees a threat or a perceived threat, and it starts getting us a little more anxious, a little more agitated.  It doesn’t know that the hunger we feel isn’t actually life threatening.  Lizard Brain just knows “hunger bad!”  As we go, if Lizard Brain starts to get really scared, it initiates lockdown, a fight or flight response to the real or perceived threat.  The thinking part of our brains is actually shut down, and we begin acting and even making decisions based on this lowest lizard part of our brain which simply says, “There’s a threat:  Eliminate or Run?”


We see this all the time with road rage, with people screaming at a cashier, with family members shouting at each other.  When people say something in the heat of an argument that they instantly regret and don’t really mean, or when they’re in an argument and start making stupid arguments that they later realize they don’t even believe, that’s when Lizard Brain has taken over.  


That’s the condition of our brains.  We really don’t like being uncomfortable, we’re not overly fond of anxiety, and we absolutely abhor uncertainty.  Our brains want resolutions to problems quickly; our brains want to collate information and get it tucked away in the appropriate place so our world makes sense and we feel safe. 


When situations or things register in our brains as uncomfortable or possibly threatening, Lizard Brain starts to raise its little lizard head.  For the children, uncomfortable in the car on the long drive, the lack of comfort brings Lizard Brain to the fore, the fight or flight response kicks in, and you get the anguished cries of children who have just had a snack and yet are starving…to death.  


So, we have the situation in Numbers in which the people of Israel were railing against God for bringing them out of Egypt just to die of hunger in the wilderness.  They were in the desert, they were nomadic, and they were really tired of the miserable food God kept giving them every day…they were dying of hunger because they were tired of the food.  Israel was not afraid of dying, even though they claimed they were.  Israel was on a long car ride:  uncomfortable, anxious, and full of uncertainty about the future:  three things which Lizard Brain abhors.  



As a response, God sent serpents among the people.  That seems a bit much as a response to complaining, and certainly not something I would recommend parents do on the car ride.  So, other than God being angry and wanting to hurt the people who had slandered him with lies about his mistreatment of them and them being near the point of death, what might be going on with this serpent attack?


I had this idea that what if the serpents were a little less literally poisoning and killing people and a little more poisoning the people as the serpent did in the garden of Eden?  With that idea in mind, I checked with my favorite Rabbi, and one of the coolest people I know, Annie Belford.  She pointed me to commentary by 11th century Rabbi Rashi who wrote about this passage from Numbers: 

God said, as it were: Let the serpent which was punished for slanderous statements come and exact punishment from those who utter slander. — Let the serpent to which all kinds of food have one taste (that of earth; cf. Genesis 3:14 and Yoma 75a) come and exact punishment from these ingrates to whom one thing (the manna) had the taste of many different dainties (see Rashi 11:8) (Midrash Tanchuma, Chukat 19).  


Like the serpent in Eden, the people of Israel in the wilderness were telling slanderous lies against God, that he was killing them, making them starve to death.  In fact, God had cared for them and sheltered them and kept them safe and well fed, but Lizard Brain was taking over in the people and so they made their anguished cry of, “We’re gonna die.”


Then, whether God sent serpents which actually killed them with literal venom, or if the serpents were killing them with more deceit and lies, God had Moses set up a bronze serpent for the people who were bitten to look upon and be healed.  


Now, this bronze serpent was not like Medusa in reverse.  It wasn’t magic, as though if it happened to cross into someone’s line of sight, suddenly they were all better.  It wasn’t an idol or a god to bring healing.  The bronze serpent worked as people looked upon it and realized, “That’s what I’ve become.  I’ve become as the father of lies, trusting my own anxiety and Lizard Brain rather that trusting in God who has freed us and kept us safe.”  They would look upon the bronze serpent with true repentance, let Lizard Brain quiet down for a few moments, and the serpent would kill the lizard.


That’s a big part of religion and religious practices, to help us silence Lizard Brain and return to trust in God and peace in our hearts.  See when we’re fully freaked out, thinking, “We don’t like this food; we’re going to die,” and Lizard Brain is in control, our thoughts and beliefs aren’t usually enough to bring us back to trust and peace because the thinking parts of our brains are shut down when Lizard Brain is in control.  


We need more than thoughts and belief when Lizard Brain takes over, we need actions, we need habits, we need a bronze serpent, so to speak, to kill the lizard.  Thus we have habits and practices of prayer and meditation, of scripture reading, of silence and breathing, of daily turning our lives and wills over to God, and daily taking stock to see how we did and where we might need to seek correction or reconciliation.  


Thats the idea of Lent.  That’s the idea of practicing daily habits of our religion, learning over and over to trust God and then, when Lizard Brain does take over, to use our well established practices as a bronze serpent to kill the lizard.


So parents, when your children make slanderous cries of how wicked you are for bringing about their immanent death after a few hours in the car with snacks and water ready at hand, I suggest again not releasing a box of serpents on your kids.  Rather, I suggest instilling in them or suggesting to them over time a habit of religious practices to help them return to God with trust and peace so they’ll have some bronze serpents with them on the long car rides.


For adults who also have times of Lizard Brain hijack, I recommend the same thing.  Develop habits over time of religious practices: prayer, meditation, breathing, walking, reading scripture, creating, noticing beauty.  Develop these habits so that they can serve as bronze serpents to kill the lizard when it rears its little lizard head, and then return to God with trust and peace.  


Sunday, November 22, 2020

The Path of the Righteous Man…

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Emmanuel Episcopal Church

November 22, 2020

Proper 29, Christ the King, A

Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24

Ephesians 1:15-23

Matthew 25:31-46


The Path of the Righteous Man…


“The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you.” 


That’s from the Quentin Tarantino movie, Pulp Fiction, and it was said by the character, Julius, a hit man played brilliantly by Samuel L. Jackson.  I gotta say I hear some echoes of Jesus’ story of the judgement of the nations in Samuel L. Jackson’s speech from Pulp Fiction.  To the righteous, Jesus says, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world…,” whereas to the unrighteous, Jesus says, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels…”


The way of the righteous man is great and good and beloved of God.  The way of the wicked, the tyranny of evil men?  God seems rather less than pleased with that part, and I love the idea of Samuel L. Jackson’s character Julius as the king, in Jesus’ story declaring to the unrighteous, “…depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”  There’s something kinda delicious about that.


I’m not entirely convinced, however, that the image Jesus had in mind with this story was of a hitman with a 9mm scaring the daylights out of the unrighteous before they met their end.  I don’t know that Jesus told this story so that we hearers would be perpetually afraid of some almighty hitman standing over us telling us we didn’t do a good enough job of loving each other.  


Fear of doing enough good for God was actually the kind of crazy religiosity Jesus was telling this story against.  Unlike angry hitman God or a god who wants a bunch of crazy religiosity that would make us pure enough, or good enough, or religious enough for God, Jesus is showing us a God who is not concerned with our purity, sinlessness, or religiosity.  Jesus is showing us a God who cares most deeply about how we treat each other.


Now there is some fear present in the story, and it is meant to be present.  Maybe less Samuel L. Jackson as Julius the hitman and more Samuel L. Jackson as Mace Windu, the Jedi Master, telling us we’ve been removed from the Jedi order.  Like the Jedi who were supposed to care for others, the point of this story is that those in Jesus’ kingdom are meant to care for others.  


When we don’t, when, as we heard in Ezekiel, we push against each other; scatter each other; take those weaker ones, get what we want from them, and cast them aside, then it seems only right that the king would say, “leave my presence.”  Jesus wants us to take seriously the idea of being removed from his presence as a natural consequence of not caring one whit about each other.  


Jesus told this story in the way he did, with that element of fear in it, so that we would recognize our propensity at times not to care that much for others, and that we would also recognize the great value and importance of those around us.  Further, in telling the story the way he did, Jesus is hoping that we would hear his words and then strive to be those “who,” as Julius said, “in the name of charity and good will, shepherd the weak through the valley of darkness.”  


See, that’s the kind of king Jesus is.  As our king, Jesus wants us to see the importance of people all around us and seek to walk to the path of the righteous one, shepherding one another, caring for each other, and lifting each other up.  That’s life in God’s kingdom.  Not with God as an angry hitman, and not with God as a king who, quite apart from all of us, tells us we better be pure enough, or good enough, or religious enough for his liking.  In Jesus’ kingdom, when we don’t treat each other as we want to be treated, that’s when we are blaspheming God.


Notice that, as king, Jesus is not far away from us on some high and lofty throne but is instead always present in his kingdom among his people.  “Lord, when did we see you naked and clothe you or hungry and feed you?”  “Whenever you did it to the least of these, you did it to me.”  Jesus is always with us, walking among us.  The king of all creation is with us at all times and in all places, even during the crazy of 2020 with continued COVID-tide.


Where is Jesus, our king, during all this pandemic crisis?  Jesus is working shift after shift at the hospital, risking infection, caring for patients.  Jesus is lying in hospital beds, sometimes recovering, sometimes dying.  Jesus is working insane hours trying to teach children both online and at school.  Jesus is those children, crying amidst all the chaos and loss of play and interaction, children in desperate need of hugs and soothing baths, and words of comfort from loving adults.  


Jesus is the grocery store delivery driver working for little and risking his own health so that others can stay home and be safe.  Jesus is all those who can stay home and are staying home, going stir crazy, so that they’ll contribute as much as they can to stop the viral spread.  Jesus is the people working for a vaccine, and Jesus is the people who have lost all hope, knowing the vaccine will come far too late for them keep their livelihoods or gain back anything of the everything they’ve lost.  


Jesus is the former tenant who lost her job due to the economic downturn, couldn’t pay her rent, and then lost all of her possessions as she was evicted from the apartment with her belongings left on the curb.  


Jesus is all of the weary and downtrodden, the hungry and hopeless, the sick and suffering.  Jesus told his story so that we would see Jesus in all of these people.  Jesus told his story so that we would see the least around us and and think to ourselves, “My king,” and then treat them as such.