Notice what Jesus does not say in verse 28. He does not condemn the glance, the split second moment when an image crosses the screen of your awareness. Morris is careful on this point: the verb Jesus uses points to a present, ongoing action, not a fleeting experience. This is the gaze that is chosen, fed, nursed. It is the look you could redirect and decide not to. It is the second look, not the first.
That is exactly where David’s story begins. He sees Bathsheba from the roof. He could not help that he saw. But instead of looking away, he inquires. He acts. And by the end of 2 Samuel 11, a man is dead and a woman has been taken. David’s long descent into murder and cover up began not with a decision to sin greatly, but with a decision not to turn his eyes away.
Doriani puts his finger on the danger: sin never stays small. What you feed in the dark grows into something that eats you in the light. The lingering gaze is the seed of a harvest you do not want. Jesus is not being dramatic. He is being honest.
The good news of verse 28 is embedded right inside its severity. Jesus locates the battle where you still have the power to fight. You cannot always control what your eyes see. You can, by the Spirit, control what your eyes choose to see twice. The fight is not waged only at the scene of the final sin. The fight is waged at the first glance, the first thought, the first redirect.