Sunday’s message ended with the wildly unreasonable command of Jesus to gouge out our eyes if they cause us to lust, to cut off our hands if they cause us to sin. Obviously, He couldn’t have actually meant that, right??? It’s this kind of passage, in the Sermon On The Mount, no less, that causes us such trouble and leads us down paths of discussion on hyperbole and exaggeration – which gives us a very nice, convenient out.

I’m reading Judges right now. (My practice is to read 2 passages, one from an Old Testament book and one from a New Testament book – the New Testament is Revelation. Just some light, easy reading. Ha!) In chapter 2, Israel does what Israel does – what we do – and is disobedient. Maybe it’s pretty subtle, but disobedience nonetheless. They have been told to “drive out” all the people in the Promised Land, and the chorus of the first chapter of Joshua is “____ failed to drive out the people living in _____” This refrain is in verses 19, 27, 29, 30, 31, and 33. Now, maybe they failed to drive out any of them or maybe just not all, but it’s still the same idea. They were given instructions and didn’t follow them.

In chapter 2, we are told Israel “abandoned the LORD… They chased after other gods, worshiping the gods of the people around them.” Now, why were the people around them? Because they didn’t drive them out. Because they didn’t do what God asked of them, commanded them.

If I keep cookies in the house, I’m going to eat them.

A solid trainer who knows me well will tell me to get them out of the house. Will tell me that I can’t be trusted (even if it hurts my feelings.) Will give me the tools to set myself up for success. Then, if I get rid of all but some or none of the cookies, I haven’t listened to him. And it might not be today or tomorrow, but I will eventually eat them.

The Canaanites are the cookies. gods like Baal and Ashtoreth and those ridiculous Asherah poles are just more cookies. And the Israelites are just like me, they can’t be trusted with cookies in the house.

So Jesus tells us, if the cookies cause you to stumble, if you’re going to eat those cookies, throw them out. If your computer causes you to stumble, throw it out. Maybe we can’t use our phones when we’re alone, maybe we need some controls. If our time alone with our boyfriends & girlfriends brings unbearable temptation, then maybe we don’t get alone time. Maybe we’re always outside or with others.

But we’re NOT children, we have enormous reserves of will power. We can stop any time we want. We can hold firm. We don’t have to eat the cookies. We are very strong and disciplined. And I’m 100% sure that’s true. This minute.

David could be on his roof – after all, it’s his roof. He could just not look at his neighbor Bathsheba (who, incidentally, is considered by whoever decides these sorts of things, one of the 5 most beautiful women to ever live. And whoever does decide probably has never seen the Angel, so maybe not top 5, but we get the point.) And I’m positive he did. For a while. Nobody takes the money from the drawer the first time they’re on the register. (I know, everybody says they do, says it’s the first time, but nobody believes that because it’s never true. And if it ever was, it’s such a small percentage that the exception proves the rule.)

I don’t have to eat the cookies today, maybe not even this week. But there will be a night I can’t sleep, or I’m sad, or disappointed, or just bored. Then, those cookies are in big trouble.

This hyperbole isn’t an out at all, it’s an illustration of how important it is. We’d rather not have hands than more cookies, and not have eyes than be that violently destructive to our own bodies, souls and spirits. If the off ramp is there, we’re going to take it. We’re going to settle for less, we’re going to forget that we’re children of the King, going to forget we’re made to fly.

And it’s really hard to fly while our arms are full of cookies.