Lies We Are Told About God — Pt 14

Even as a kid, you some­ti­mes see things that just don’t make sense. One of these things that never made sense to me was why someone would leave a plate of coo­kies next to the infa­mous Coo­kie Mons­ter, and then act sur­pri­sed when he gob­bled them down.

Coo­kie Mons­ter was the fuzzy blue Mup­pet on the PBS show Sesame Street who had an insa­tia­ble desire for coo­kies. His tra­de­mark phrase “me love coo­kies” spo­ken in a growly mons­ter voice was one of the first sound bites I learned.

It was a weekly run­ning gag on the show. Coo­kie Mons­ter would be told by an autho­rity figure to “leave the coo­kies alone.” The autho­rity figure would leave the scene and there he was – alone with his true love – a pla­te­ful of coo­kies. “Me just look at them” he would say to the camera. Then he would say “Me just smell them.” Next would come “Me just taste them.” And of course – he would devour the entire plateful.

As a kid I never got tired of the rou­tine. It was hila­rious. You knew what was going to hap­pen but it was always fun to watch. But I never unders­tood why the adults on the show con­ti­nued to leave the coo­kies out. Didn’t they know Coo­kie Mons­ter couldn’t be trus­ted? If you really wan­ted to safe­guard the coo­kies, surely there had to be a bet­ter way. Yet week after week they left the coo­kies right where he could get at them. I would never have trus­ted Coo­kie Mons­ter with my cookies.

I think there is a little of the Coo­kie Mons­ter in each of us. No mat­ter how many pro­mi­ses the Coo­kie Mons­ter made, he just couldn’t help him­self. He wan­ted to be good – if only those darn coo­kies weren’t so tasty.

Just like him, I want to be good too. I want to be: the guy who only uses kind words. The father who never loses his tem­per. The per­fect sel­fless hus­band. The friend who is always ready to lend a hand. The man who never ove­reats. I could go on but you get the pic­ture. I am bro­ken in dozens of ways — some of which I am pro­bably not even aware. Yet God for some crazy rea­son of his own, con­ti­nues to trust me with all these things.

One of the lies we have belie­ved about God is about trust. Spe­ci­fi­cally that because we are sin­ful he will not trust us. We are decei­ved into thin­king that we have to earn his trust first. That we have to be good before he will extend trust to us (as if that were pos­si­ble). But the Gos­pels are full of exam­ples where Jesus exten­ded trust to those fallen human beings he called his dis­ci­ples. Jesus asked a bunch of sleepy dis­ci­ples to stay awake and pray with him. He ins­truc­ted Peter to walk on the water. He rebu­ked them when they panic­ked in the storm. Nume­rous times he remar­ked on their “little faith.”

Jesus knew their weak­nes­ses bet­ter than they. Yet none of these weak­nes­ses dete­rred him from exten­ding trust to them. He always belie­ved in them. He saw beyond their weak­nes­ses. He knew these men weren’t finished.

Love always trusts. God always trusts. God doesn’t lock up the cookies.