Eucharist vs. The Lizard Brain

Typically, we think of hibernation as something that occurs only in the winter. As a more-or-less acclimated Phoenician, I can say that something akin to hibernation occurs in Phoenix not in the bleary cold of winter but rather in the blistering heat of summer. The mercury level rises; my energy level falls. It is difficult to be motivated when it's 106 degrees on the morning commute to work, 100 degrees when it's time to go to bed, and 116 degrees at points between.

Exhibit 1. Lizard, with Lizard Brain.

I believe this is the reason that many things go on hiatus during Phoenix summers. We go into a self-preserving, energy conservation mode. Work. Hydrate. Eat. Sleep. Work. Olympics. Eat. Sleep. As my friend Mary says, the primal ‘lizard brain’ takes over and all our energies and efforts are redirected to mere survival. The priority has to be to maintaining essential life support systems. The non-essentials can wait until later. But what is the most essential? In my experience, there is a danger in this hibernation: as I strip my life down to the bare essentials and let that ‘lizard brain’ direct me on autopilot, it’s all too easy for me to neglect what is truly essential.

Consider this example: One of the highlights of my week is the Thursday evening Eucharist at our church. This brief time to gather for worship, fellowship, exhortation, and edification is something I look forward to each week. I look forward to it even though attending means battling cross-town traffic after an exhausting day towards the end of an exhausting week of work. Maybe I shouldn’t be, but I am always surprised by the way that God uses that time to renew me, to change me, and to breathe new life into me.

Exhibit 2. Eucharist.

Our weekly Eucharist was on hiatus for the month of July. Last week it began again, and while I sincerely planned to attend, I ended up working late and ended up not going. In retrospect, my work would have been accomplished just as well the next morning (probably better), and I would have been happier and healthier had I prioritized worship first. Thursday rolled around again, as it is wont to do), and once again I was tempted to work late. After all, there’s so much at work that demands my attention, and it can give me such a sense of satisfaction to see all my tasks completed. Even more tempting was the thought of simply heading home to relax. Surely it would be understandable if I want to just hibernate at home until it cools off (sometime in October or so).

I had perfectly reasonable excuses not to go to Eucharist. Instead, I battled traffic, spent a few moments collecting my thoughts, and then had a meaningful experience worshiping along with a few others who had also braved the heat. In the midst of this humble, simple, intimate worship service, God was present to bless, to speak, to heal.

I suspect that there is a an important lesson in this: when we are stressed by external factors, when we feel taxed beyond our limit, there is strong tendency to retreat, retract, hibernate, to let the ‘lizard brain’ take control just to get us through until circumstances change. Perhaps sometimes there is no alternative but to put our heads down, drink lots of water, and focus on the bare essentials of survival. But I for one am tempted to take that route more often that is necessary. When I am stressed and tempted to retreat, I need to remind myself and be reminded by others that my retreat should be into the presence of God and into the gathered community of those who worship Him.

This doesn’t seem to be a profound lesson. Quite simple, really. Most of the important lessons in my life have been simple. If it’s like most, it is probably a lesson I have even learned before, and it may well be one I must learn again.