Rage The Elephant

Show open: host intros, the thrift store priest, and the docket

Ben (speaker-0) opens the show from the Pathway Studios in Johnston proper and introduces the mic'd hosts: himself ('My name is Ben Foust'), Mike Fust (speaker-2), and Dan Hudson (speaker-1), plus a thrift-store priest statue of unknown lineage that the crew jokes is fetching a decent price at Goodwill. Ben opens the complaint line — (515) 517-0085 — with a prompt for the best punchline to 'What do you call a group of priests?' and sets the docket as 'elephants and advice.'

The rogue elephants of Pilanesberg

Ben tells the story of a Facebook video about Pilanesberg National Park (ASR 'Planisburg') in South Africa: Kruger National Park's population-control culls removed the mature bulls and relocated the young, and as the young males reached adolescence they entered musth (ASR 'must') abnormally early and began attacking white rhinoceroses — more than 40 killed between 1992 and 1997, with 63 rhinos documented at another site — chasing and beating carcasses, 'gang behavior.' Researchers transported in six mature bulls; the young bulls' abnormal musth patterns subsided and the rhino killing stopped immediately, with the older bulls physically disciplining the young (gore marks on hindquarters; the tracked 'vigilante' bulls). Dan also watched the video.

Elephant takeaways: dads, norms, and trauma explanations

Ben draws the takeaways: you 'gotta have dads' — male authority figures — because animal and human societies transmit behavioral norms through social relationships, and older elephants regulate rather than merely reproduce. He warns against shallow variables-thinking (Maslow's hierarchy applied to an elephant), notes the delayed effects of removing a generation, and pushes back on trauma-as-sole-explanation: two people can survive similar events differently depending on the structures around them. He links the story to broken homes, rising divorce rates among older couples, and post-COVID kid behavior, then asks Dan for his reactions.

'We don't do that': the classroom and communal restraint

One host offers the fifth-grade classroom analogy: remove the teacher and the kids go wild throwing paper airplanes — someone has to teach them to 'act like a human,' and the same holds in church, family, and life. Another host frames it as the communal love of 'we don't do that' rather than 'I don't do that': sin is communal because creation is interconnected, so behavior that breaks God's design carries a community cost. Modernity's belief that unconstrained freedom unlocks the best self is called 'chronological arrogance,' with a Van Gogh caveat — artists who knowingly traded money and status are a different case.

Pruning: freedom is not flourishing

Ben answers with his fruit trees: an AI advised surprisingly heavy pruning, and the lesson is that flourishing requires being snipped back — 'for me to flourish, I must be unconstrained' is silly, and complete freedom is a danger to the individual and to the society you share soil with. The rub is that the constraint must be voluntary: you constrain yourself, or ask to be constrained, for the benefit of the world around you. 'You are not made to be isolationist.'

The mouse utopia and societal collapse

Ben recounts the 'mouse utopia' experiment (Calhoun): mice given unlimited food, water, space, controlled temperature, and safety reproduced rapidly, then deteriorated — aggression, disrupted mating and parenting, abandoned young, social withdrawal, abnormal sexual behavior, collapsing reproduction, and finally a withdrawn clique of the 'beautiful ones' that only ate, slept, and groomed — until the population hit zero despite undiminished resources. The point: a society is not the sum of its bodily needs; the sinews of thriving are social norms and boundaries, though he cautions it matters who dictates the boundaries ('It's Jesus or nobody in my book'). Dan wonders aloud whether the older mice dying off was the trigger, mirroring the elephants.

Who is the human 'older elephant'?

• Who are the 'older elephants' for humans — who can be trusted as a spiritual elder?

Ben poses the bridge question: if the elephant story is fair, who is the human 'older elephant'? Fathers jump to mind because the story was male, but what about spiritual elders — who do we look to, who can be trusted, and what are the challenges? Any correction requires someone to say 'that behavior is not what we do' and try to constrain or redirect another's behavior. Mike picks up the thread on pastoral 'submit to spiritual authority' language.

'Submit to spiritual authority': elder as responsibility, not office

Mike questions pastors who tell congregants to 'submit to spiritual authority' while meaning themselves: biblically, God's Word is authoritative and the Holy Spirit fills in the grays — the Bible prescribes and describes but does not answer 'should I move to Sacramento and start a youth group?' Dan adds the New Testament's plurality of elders: a responsibility of the wise, not a capitalized job title reduced to voting, policy-making, and approving budgets. The room agrees the modern church has corporatized eldership into offices, and that a lone 'bull' atop a large congregation is not a healthy model.

The New Testament case for human shaping

• What does the New Testament actually say about spiritual authority and submission?

Ben walks the New Testament texts: Hebrews 13:17 ('obey your leaders and submit to them, for they keep watch over your souls') presumes a soul-watching laborer, not a rule-maker; 1 Thessalonians 5:12-13 tells believers to recognize and esteem those laboring among them; 1 Corinthians 16:15-16 bids submission to the household of Stephanus, who 'devoted themselves to serving the saints'; 1 Peter 5:1-5 has elders shepherd without domineering, the younger subject to elders, and everyone clothed in humility; Acts 20:28 gives elders responsibility to oversee and shepherd. The conclusion: the model is not 'everyone just talks to the Spirit' — there is an explicit, beneficial place for human shaping.

Talent is not authority; the scale problem

The hosts separate the office from the responsibility: an elder in a 300-person church does not know you or labor with your soul, so 'I'm an elder' carries no automatic authority (the 'Ted Jackson, elder' Walmart coffee-shop joke); eldership and pastoring cost your ambitions — 'your name is done, your ambitions are done' — and gifted speech does not equal spiritual authority. One host warns that a pastor saying 'God has placed me as a pastor over you; resisting me is to resist God' is 'trash': the mark is humility that draws others into humility. A teaching pastor over hundreds cannot bear their souls — 'Billy Graham was not the spiritual authority for almost anybody,' but he was a heck of a teacher.

Fallible discerners: Spirit, scripture, and community together

Ben lands the synthesis: the Bible is full of Yahweh's right words and the Spirit is given to everyone, but the presence of the Spirit is not the same as a human's ability to rightly discern it — 'I am a fallible discerner of the Spirit' — so community, scripture, and the Spirit must all go together; bailing on any one leaves you 'blind in one eye.' Dan adds that 99.9% of departing pastors say 'God led me,' but in Antioch the Spirit told the church to send Paul and Barnabas — the people heard it and sent them — whereas Paul kept getting called to places he would get beaten.

Listening well: holding plans loosely

The hosts apply the listening question personally: Ben reflects on his house church's surprise ten-year anniversary and asks whether the community is prepared for God to send someone away, while Dan says he has told his own elders to tell him when it is time to step down because he will not know himself. Mike shares that he just texted his youth-group leaders asking prayer to 'hold our plans very loosely' — he realized he had taken settled things (like youth group on Wednesday) off the table and would bristle if God said Thursday. The identity to recover: servant of King Jesus, trusting a good Father who speaks clearly rather than keeping anyone guessing.

Dear LFTP: the inclusive dinner and the autistic boy

• How can I stay inclusive when a new family's severely autistic child disrupts my neighborhood movie night?

Mike reads the first Dear LFTP letter: a single woman hosts monthly inclusive neighborhood dinners and movie nights (kids, dogs, a ramp for an elderly neighbor), but a new couple's severely autistic six-year-old screamed, threw food, bit, spit, and hit kids and dogs for an hour, and the parents now offer to alternate staying home — she wants a 'magic wand.' One host suggests sensory strategies (squeezy toys, weighted blankets); Mike says it is not loving to pretend the boy does not have severe autism and that respite care may help the parents; another host argues for serving people in their uniqueness (the St. Paul's Cathedral elevator analogy) — the appearance of inclusion is not service if nobody enjoyed themselves. The Secular answer: no magic wand; invite the family on a separate evening without other children and pets at risk.

Dear LFTP: the man in his forties and the workplace breakup

• What should a stubborn man in his forties do about his awkward post-breakup workplace?

Mike reads the second Dear LFTP letter: a man in his forties whose workplace relationship ended badly now reads every walk-by as smiles and chattering and every desk approach as silence and stares; he still has feelings, gave her the silent treatment, cannot be friends, and wants 'insights.' The hosts deconstruct it line by line as 'the ramblings of a fifteen year old boy': nobody is whispering about him, reciprocated feelings would look like dating him, and silent treatment is prepubescent — 'you're not husband or boyfriend material.' Counsel: get a golden retriever, spend time in the Lord's Word (Christ loving the church; husbands and wives), and update the dating profile to 'erratic drama factory.' The Secular answer: it is you, not the coworkers, making it awkward — 'I don't think you're stubborn. I think you're afraid' — so be cordial as colleagues or start looking for another job.

App beta plea, complaint line, and benediction

The hosts plug the still-in-beta Live From The Path app: they need Android testers (and possibly Apple) to download and open it so the store listing passes review — listeners can send their operating system and email via the complaint line, (515) 517-0085, 'Bob Eisen' on the complaint line. The episode closes with the standing benediction: 'In the meantime, be faithful to the means. God will handle the ends.'