Silly spotted hyenas

3:23 PM

Funny, isn’t it, how you can surrender to Christ (and I don’t mean merely invite him in for a visit), and then start seeing unexpected changes in your life?

I’m not talking about finding out in certain spots, like there's strict new rules you gotta follow to “make sure” you’re saved so you can win nods of approval from the senior members who’re proud to let new members know, “This is the onliest church I ever been to in my whole entire life, and it’s the best church there ever was.”

Nope, I’m talking about changes in the way you act when Nobody’s Watching to see your sin spots … like when you’re feeling tempted and there’s no “Holy Joe’s” standing around nearby, looking over your shoulder.

I grew up in a church environment where drinking, dancing, and gambling were loudly denounced as the worst sort of sins (adultery might’ve been up there too, but seems like sex-talk was too dirty to ever be discussed in church). Because those sins were easily recognized as “among the worst” then identifying the “worst sinners” among us was easy … because those were exactly the sins they committed.

And everybody knew who they were because the Gossip-and-411 Live Updates were always spotting new sins 24/7x365 … even if Blue Laws kept retail stores closed on Sundays.

How about some of those “Other sins?” Aaah let’s see … I guess technically, uh … hey, where ya’ll going for lunch after the service?

Can’t recall hearing much about anger being a sin, and now that makes me mad.

Since I’m a guy, let’s say another guy does something that has the consequence of “making” me enraged. I feel like lashing out, and feel very fortunate when this other guy, his wife and their kids just happen to come walking by.

What makes the set-up even better is, he’s got no idea at all how upset he’s ‘made” me. So soon as he opens his mouth and grins “Hey dude, whadup?” I pounce like a hyena and catch his neck in my rage-jaws, and use verbal claws to open up his best intentions and show him his insides. He can’t even think of one word to defend himself against that kind of vicious attack, and just stammers while I proceed to break off and tear loose every bit of dignity and self-esteem that’s still holding the poor guy up.

For a minute this guy looks like he might even start crying but he can’t, because all the tears have already found another, lower way to flee and exit what’s left of his body.

His wife and kids must be on my side and see who’s stronger, because they keep staring at him as if wondering why he doesn’t step up, fight back and be a man, unless he’s too scared … but being women and children, they don’t understand that today that ain’t gonna happen because I won’t let it happen.

I’m having too much fun.

When I’m finally full and there’s not a scrap of self-respect left on his spine, I grunt “OK, I hope there’s no hard feelings” (because at least I’m feeling satisfied), smack my lips and slouch away to the nearest hyena-hole for a nice post-dinner nap.

Does ripping that guy apart make me a bad person? Heck no, I’m covered all-over with spots that prove I’m a hyena, and doing what hyenas do is fun (and makes hyenas laugh later about doing it). Besides, scaring grown men and pulling people apart feels so gooood … but then maybe you’d have to be a laughing-hyena to know that in the first place.

What difference does it make to me if this poor guy just got his fragile little daddy-ego sliced into bait chunks right there in front of his kids? Shoot, if he’s any kind of man he’ll spank the daylights out of them when he gets home, and teach ‘em that’s the best way to deal with being mad.

Or if he feels humiliated at having his pants pulled down and getting spanked in front of his wife, it’s only because she’s already wearing the pants around their house, and how they speak to or respect each other in the privacy of their own home is none of this hyena’s business.
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Here’s the thing about the situation I just described: Does it really make any difference whether the guy’s wife and kids were standing there to see the guy get a rabid tongue-lashing? Didn’t it still happen the same way, and doesn’t that same guy walk away still feeling just as bruised, and still just as whipped and battered?

Doesn’t he still carry away the same emotional soreness, and hear the same words over and over again (and probably will for days), after he’s driven home and it’s crunch-time again … when he’s gotta step up and be a husband, father, a man and an example … no matter how he got treated that day at work?

Bullying describes the kind of anger that’s directed at a person who’s unable or unwilling to fight back. Intimidating a weaker person, or self-righteously attacking someone who’s in a more vulnerable situation, or taunting them with sarcasm and circular reasoning (“If you knew that’s not what I wanted then why did you do it?”) for whatever reason can in no way be compared to Christ’s anger when he ejected the money-changers from the temple.

I’ve heard that excuse used a time or twelve too many, and it sounds like all the other flimsy excuses folks conjure to explain why their sin just happens not to be a sin after all.

When their real excuse is it’s because hyenas like doing what hyenas do.