Cutting It Off

​Our Gospel reading for this morning is a little shocking. It is hard to know what to make of Jesus advising us to cut off body parts!
 
On one point, the Church has always been clear. Jesus does NOT mean this literally. One early Christian who took this passage literally and mutilated himself came to regret his own action and was strongly condemned by others for it.
 
But what does Jesus mean? What is good news in this passage for us?
 
I got some help from a newspaper editorial about addiction.[1] This may seem like a detour, but stay with me!
 
As you probably know, things that can addict us release pleasure hormones in our brains.
 
An example that I struggle with, as you all know, is sugar. Like many things that aren’t good for us, sugar and the pleasure rush that comes from it is OK, as long as we eat sugar in moderation. (I’ll leave you to judge how I do at that.) The problem comes when we crave that rush of pleasure so much that the craving begins to control our lives.
 
Some have concluded that the basic problem of addiction is the desire for pleasure, and that the best way to treat addiction is therefore to discourage addicts from seeking pleasure in any form, at least for a while. That way they will learn not to be controlled by their cravings.
 
But the author of my article, a woman named Maia Szalavitz, insists that that strategy is based on a serious misunderstanding of addiction.
 
Szalavitz describes her own struggle with addiction to cocaine. At first, she said, cocaine did provide her pleasure. But even at the beginning, she didn’t abuse cocaine for the pleasure it brought her, not exactly. Like many people at risk for addiction, she was not coping well in her life, and cocaine provided an escape from her problems. She says that, at least for her, “addiction isn’t about seeking extra pleasure; it’s about killing excess emotional pain.”
 
That her addiction was not about pleasure became more and more clear over time, as cocaine took over her life and began to ruin her life. “Each shot,” she said, “only escalated [her] anxiety and fear.” Not only was cocaine no longer a pleasure; it quit being an escape. And yet she couldn’t stop taking it.
 
That’s what addiction is: a compulsion to, in her case, take cocaine no matter the consequences, no matter how awful it made her feel. Cocaine had become a necessary part of who she was. And it was killing her.
 
The solution for Szalavitz was not to cut pleasures out of her life. At her worst, she didn’t have any pleasures in her life. The solution was to find meaningful pleasure. In more theological terms, what she needed was authentic joy.
 
But that’s the problem. People struggling with addiction get so twisted up that they lose sight of what might bring them true joy. Instead they continue compulsively with self-destructive alternatives that always leave them needing more.
 
When things get really bad, drastic measures are called for. And those drastic measures have two parts: stopping whatever it is that is killing the person; and starting to find true joy.
 
In his very different way, that is what Jesus is telling us in our passage. Jesus is speaking to us as people addicted to sin.
 
Like the things that addict people in the strictest sense of that term, some sin can seem fun in the short run. But sin is always a false pleasure. Every sin is turning away from God, and that means turning away from life and love and joy.  
 
The negative consequences of sin become more and more clear over time, as our sinful habits harden. But our sinful habits also get more and more entrenched, to the point that it is hard to imagine life without them.
 
And so drastic measures are called for.
 
Jesus says, “If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off.” Jesus uses intentionally shocking language to help us see that the things we rely on to get through the day may in fact be the very things that keep us from experiencing the fullness of life that God wants for us.
 
For Szalavitz, in the throes of addiction, cocaine was the most important thing in her life. But true life came only when she could cut it off. Something similar is true for all of us. True life comes only when we cut sin off.
 
And then comes the good news, good news which is easy to miss if we get stuck on the “cut-it-off” part of the passage. We cut off whatever causes us to sin so that we can “enter life.” Jesus’ emphasis here is not on what we lose, but on what we gain: life, the kingdom of God.
 
Like addicts, we let go of whatever is both controlling and killing us, and we turn to what truly brings us joy.
 
I abused alcohol in my early twenties. At the time, I thought of it as having fun with friends. Looking back, I can see that I was managing my anxiety at becoming an adult responsible for making my own decisions about life. And, looking back, I can also see that abusing alcohol was an obstacle holding me back from the life that God planned for me.
 
What turned me around was finding Carrie and finding my vocation. I didn’t cut alcohol out of my life entirely. But alcohol quit controlling me. In that sense, I “cut it off.” And I found a much more fulfilling path.
 
Unfortunately, the struggle continues. These days, my addiction is Spider Solitaire, which I play on my phone.
 
On the very day I began planning this sermon, I spent probably two hours playing Spider Solitaire, much of it when I should have been in bed. Like an addict, I kept playing long after I had quit having fun.
 
With our passage in mind, I imagine the conversation Jesus and I might have had if Jesus had come into the room when I was obsessively playing Spider Solitaire last week.
 
Jesus starts by asking, “So, Harvey, are you enjoying yourself all hunched over your phone?” To which I reply, with irritation, “Please leave me alone until I finish this game.”
 
Jesus: “Is that how you want to talk to me? You realize that I am God incarnate sitting here with you?”
 
Me: “I know. I’ll be done in a minute.”
 
Jesus: “You really should put the phone away.”
 
Me: “I am about to. I just want to finish this game.” Then, hoping Jesus doesn’t notice, I start a new one.
 
Jesus: “I’m going to do you a favor.” Then Jesus grabs my phone and crushes it, saying “You need to cut off anything that prevents you from truly living life. Right now that means this stupid game on your phone.”
 
At last, liberated from the compulsion to keep playing games on my phone, I say my prayers and go to bed, with the result that the next day I am rested and full of energy for the things in my life that actually matter.
 
Unfortunately, that is not how it actually happened last week.
 
Since Jesus is not likely to appear in my office the next time I get stuck in spider solitaire world, I need to hear the message of our passage. We all do. Cut off anything that turns us away from God. And embrace the life that God invites us to live.
 
My prayer is that we can hear those words as the invitation they are. In Christ’s name. Amen.


[1] Maia Szalavitz, “A ‘Dopamine Fast’ Will Not Save You from Addiction,” New York Times Sunday Opinion, September 15, 2024, page 9.