Perhaps one of the biggest difference between animals and humans is (obviously) our cognitive abilities . . . that is, our ability to think about stuff. One of the most useful and important aspects that comes with this “big brain” package is also one that gets us in a fair bit of trouble: the ability to think about time. If you spend much time with dogs, cats, rabbits, or fish, you realize they don’t have very strong senses of time. Like, no amount of explanation will satisfy a pet who wants to eat now. (Daylight Savings Time is always confusing to household critters.)
Similarly, animals generally don’t plan for the future. Sure, some of them act on instinct to hoard food or similarly prepare for scarcity or hibernation, but this isn’t really conscious in the way that we’re planning for what we’re doing next year, or even worrying about what the weather will be like tomorrow. German shepherds don’t really have a concept of “30-year mortgage.”
Today’s gospel selection, from Luke, has an aspect of time that I’ve never considered in the many instances I’ve read this reflection. Look at these elements that Jesus gives as metaphors for carrying the cross:
“Which of you wishing to construct a tower does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion?”
“Or what king marching into battle would not first sit down and decide whether with ten thousand troops he can successfully oppose another king advancing upon him with twenty thousand troops?”
Both of those examples rely on a notion of time. You only care about whether or not you can finish constructing a tower if you care about its completion. You only worry about whether or not you can defeat an army if you care about the future of your nation and your people.
Our sense of time is one of the things that makes us great. It allows us to live beyond our immediate impulses, to plan for the future, to plant trees in whose shade we will never live to enjoy.
But there’s another problem with that sense of time: the ability to worry about things beyond our control, to fret about a jillion “what if” scenarios that fail to come to pass, and lose sight of what is really important.
For example, if I’m a homeowner who’s so worried about termites, trees falling on my roof, electrical fires, random arsonists, etc. that I forget to pay my mortgage . . . well, I’m still in danger of losing my home, but it’s to a clear and known danger (not paying for the house!) versus a less-plausible “what if” situation.
Similarly, when Jesus says, “everyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple,” it’s a reminder that the fixation on short-term material comfort places our long-term mortal souls in jeopardy. (And when we’re talking the fate of our eternal selves and the unfathomable expanse of time we are not alive, any comfort in this world must be considered “short-term.”)
In his teachings, Jesus exhorts us to think about the future. But it’s not the “future” most of us consider, any more than a dog thinking “OH BOY I HEAR THE FOOD BAG RATTLING THAT MEANS I GET TO EAT REAL SOON” is thinking about “the future.” Jesus wants us to ensure that our foundations are solid, that our plans aren’t tainted by hubris or inattentiveness, and that our minds are ever on the ultimate goal of salvation, for ourselves and the world.
If you find yourself worrying about things you can’t control, or about possibilities that might not happen, consider doing something positive to help yourself and/or others — something you can control — that helps bolster your soul and your community. Search your heart and determine what’s really most important to you . . . and if that runs contrary to the teachings of Christ, consider doing what you can to “leave behind” those attachments that would keep us apart from God.
The future is difficult to wrap your mind around, and thinking about it is an ability that sets us apart from animals. The rewards for doing so have helped humanity thrive, but we need to be careful we’re not too short-sighted in our views beyond “tomorrow.” Ideally, the future is one where we’re all living together with God.
Today’s readings: Phil 2:12-18; Ps 27:1,4,13-14; Lk 14:25-33
