Author and wit Samuel Clemens — better known to American history by the nom de plume Mark Twain — used to tell the story of a man whose neighbor had a habit of borrowing tools and not returning them. One day the neighbor stopped by the man’s house and asked whether he could borrow his axe.

“No, you can’t,” replied the man.

“Why not?”

“I’m just about to eat some soup.”

Puzzled, the neighbor said, “I don’t see what one thing has to do with the other. You’re not going to eat soup with an axe.”

“That’s true,” said the man. “But when a fellow’s decided he’s not going to do something, one excuse is as good as the next.”

As he often was in his observations of human nature, Mr. Clemens (or Mr. Twain, if you prefer) was right on the money this time. Once people decide on a course of action, they’ll justify it with any excuse — even one that makes as little logical sense as that in the story cited above. Herb Robison made excellent note of this in his sermon last Sunday evening, when he pointed out that older folks excuse themselves from interest in Bible study by saying, “That’s for the young people,” while the junior generation excuses themselves in exactly the opposite way: “That’s for the old people.”

It’s sad that people feel the need to excuse themselves from the things of Christ. But lest we begin feeling sorry for ourselves in our less successful efforts to evangelize, let’s remember that Jesus Himself faced these excuses throughout His earthly ministry: “Lord, let me first go and bury my father” (Luke 9:59); “Lord, I will follow You, but let me first go and bid them farewell who are at my house” (Luke 9:61); “But when the young man heard that saying, he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions” (Matthew 19:22); “Nevertheless even among the rulers many believed in Him, but because of the Pharisees they did not confess Him, lest they should be put out of the synagogue” (John 12:42). All had determined what they were willing — or unwilling — to do. All found excuses to justify their choices.

After nearly two decades of preaching the gospel, I sometimes think I’ve heard from people determined to disobey God every excuse the human mind can devise. Time and again, I’m proven wrong. People still manage to surprise me — even stun and shock me — with their ability to concoct rationalization after rationalization for not doing what God commands.

But for the moment, let’s not talk about other people and their excuses. Let’s talk about ourselves, and ours. None of us are immune to the excuse cycle. All of us engage in rationalistic behavior — probably more than we recognize, or are willing to admit to ourselves.

We can, however, break the cycle by reversing it. As the man in the Mark Twain story demonstrates, excuses begin the moment we decide what we’re going to do, or not do. The key, therefore, is in that decision-making process. We can decide that we are going to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength (Mark 12:30), that we are going to observe all that He commands (Matthew 28:20), and that whatever we do — in word or deed — we will do it in His name, that is, by His authority (Colossians 3:17). If we make that decision wholeheartedly, and stand by it daily, we can begin to put excuses in the past.

The challenge comes in those moments when God’s will as revealed in the Scriptures differs from our own — in those times when He demands a sacrifice we don’t want to make, or an obedience we don’t want to render. What do we do then? Do we tell the Lord we’re too busy eating soup, or do we hand over our axe?