The term HAZMAT caught me by surprise when I first encountered it in the bourbon world. I thought someone was being humorous, but it turns out there’s a very real reason for the designation. Any alcoholic beverage exceeding 140 proof is prohibited from being carried aboard a commercial airplane, whether in your carry-on or checked luggage. That’s because alcohol at that strength is considered a hazardous material. It’s highly flammable and potentially dangerous, which makes it something you probably don’t want bouncing around in the luggage hold at 35,000 feet.

And here we are, deliberately pouring the stuff into glasses and drinking it.

I don’t own many HAZMATs. Three, the last time I counted. Two are Jack Daniel’s Boiler Hill special release ryes, and the third is Far Better Ultra Small Batch Special Release Bourbon, a surprising little whiskey from Nashville that wound up winning my March Madness bourbon challenge earlier this year.

Three HAZMAT whiskeys. More than 140 proof. Plenty of firepower. But the greatest danger isn’t necessarily what’s inside the bottle.

The two Jack Daniel’s ryes come in at 142.7 and 146.1 proof, and both are magnificent. They’re loaded with chocolate, caramel, bananas, cherries and cinnamon, with thick, oily mouthfeels and enough heat to remind you that you’re drinking something extraordinary. I put them into a six-bottle blind tasting of Jack Daniel’s ryes earlier this year, and the two HAZMATs finished first and second. They weren’t exactly gentle on the palate, but the flavors were wonderful. A few drops of water might make them even better.

The Far Better comes in at 141.2 proof, and its story is almost as interesting as the whiskey itself. When Scott and I discovered it during a visit to a tiny Nashville distillery, the owner told us it had been hovering around 139 proof when they sampled it from the barrel. They decided to give it a little more time, hoping it would soften. Instead, the proof climbed to 141.2. They bottled it anyway, and I’m glad they did. It’s loaded with molasses, caramel, dark chocolate and an unexpected touch of cardamom, with a thick mouthfeel and a finish that seems to go on forever.

It’s also hot enough to peel paint.

Yet despite their intimidating proof, all three of these whiskeys are remarkably enjoyable. And that’s what got me thinking about something unusual in the very consumption of alcohol.

We enjoy the taste. We enjoy the warmth. We even enjoy the little bit of euphoria that can come with a glass or two, although perhaps that’s where we need to start being careful. There’s something undeniably pleasurable about sitting down after a long day, pouring a good bourbon and taking the time to appreciate what went into making it. For me, there’s also the enjoyment of sharing the experience with friends, comparing tasting notes and discovering something unexpected in a bottle.

And Scripture doesn’t condemn that enjoyment. Quite the opposite, in fact. Psalm 104:14–15 speaks of God providing wine that gladdens the heart of man. Jesus turned water into wine at the wedding in Cana. Paul even advised Timothy to take a little wine for his stomach.

But there’s another side to the story. Ephesians 5:18 warns us not to get drunk with wine. Proverbs repeatedly cautions against the dangers of excessive drinking. And throughout Scripture, we’re reminded of the importance of self-control.

So it seems pretty clear that God doesn’t object to the enjoyment of alcohol. What He objects to is allowing that enjoyment to become something destructive.

And that’s where things get interesting.

Alcohol can wreak havoc on our bodies, especially when we consume too much. It makes things we want low run high, and things we want high run low. Blood pressure, blood sugar, heart rate, judgment, coordination and any number of other things can be affected. What begins as a pleasant experience can become a serious health problem when moderation disappears.

Then there are the consequences beyond our bodies. We’ve all seen what alcohol can do to families, marriages, friendships and careers. People make decisions while drinking that they would never consider sober. Words get said that can’t be taken back. Lives can be changed, sometimes permanently, because someone didn’t know when to stop.

And yet, alcohol isn’t unique in its ability to take something enjoyable and turn it into something harmful. Food can do that. Money can do that. Even things that begin as perfectly innocent hobbies can become unhealthy when they start consuming too much of our time, energy or attention.

The apostle Paul makes an observation in 1 Corinthians 6:12 that seems particularly appropriate here:

“All things are lawful unto me, but all things are not expedient: all things are lawful for me, but I will not be brought under the power of any.”

Paul was addressing a broader question about Christian freedom and the proper use of our bodies, but that last phrase is worth considering in almost every area of life.

I will not be brought under the power of any.

There’s a significant difference between enjoying something and being controlled by it. I can enjoy a good bourbon without needing one. I can appreciate the craftsmanship, the flavors and the fellowship without allowing the experience to dictate my behavior. At least, that’s the standard I ought to hold myself to.

And I think that’s the distinction we sometimes miss when discussing alcohol from a Christian perspective. Some people want to condemn it entirely, while others dismiss concerns about drinking as though moderation takes care of itself. But neither approach really addresses the central question: Are we exercising control over our desires, or are our desires exercising control over us?

I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with enjoying a good glass of bourbon. If I did, this would be a very strange weekly feature. But I also recognize that the same whiskey I appreciate for its flavor and craftsmanship can become dangerous when consumed irresponsibly. And while a HAZMAT label might make for an entertaining conversation among bourbon enthusiasts, it’s also a reminder that we’re dealing with something that deserves respect.

Interestingly, I don’t think the greatest danger necessarily comes from the strongest whiskeys. A 146-proof rye practically demands that you pay attention to what you’re drinking. The heat announces itself immediately. You tend to sip more slowly, savor the flavors and recognize that you’re dealing with something unusually powerful.

A much lower-proof whiskey might go down so easily that you forget to exercise the same caution. And a drink doesn’t have to be particularly strong to become a problem if someone keeps reaching for another.

That’s the irony of all this. The government can tell me that the bourbon in my glass is too hazardous to carry on an airplane. It can establish a precise threshold, measure the alcohol content and prohibit anything that crosses the line.

But there’s no comparable number printed on a bottle that tells me when enjoyment is becoming excess. There’s no warning light that comes on when pleasure begins turning into dependence. There’s no government agency that can make the decision for me about when I’ve had enough.

That requires something considerably more important than a proof statement. It requires wisdom, discipline and self-control.

So this Halloween week, I’m not particularly frightened by the three HAZMAT whiskeys sitting in my collection. I’ve tasted them, enjoyed them and found them among the better bottles I’ve encountered this year. They deserve a place on my shelf, and I’ll continue enjoying them occasionally, one small pour at a time.

But I also recognize that there’s something worth fearing about alcohol, regardless of what’s printed on the label. As Christians, we’re called to surrender ourselves to God, trusting Him to guide our lives. But there’s a world of difference between surrendering ourselves to God and surrendering control to something that can ultimately destroy us.

It’s not necessarily the proof inside the bottle that should scare us. It’s what can happen when we surrender control to the wrong master. And that’s a danger no amount of water can proof down.

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Copyright © 2026 Doug DeBolt.