During my first few months as a pastor’s wife, I signed up to make and take dinner to a family who had lost a grandparent to a prolonged illness. I wasn’t a great cook at the time. Twenty-four years old and married barely two years, I was still regularly burning chicken and under-cooking eggs. I planned something easy that I rarely messed up. Spaghetti seemed a safe option. On my fridge calendar, I noted the date and time I had committed to take a meal to the bereaved family, and then promptly forgot about it. And I do mean forgot about it. A week later, I was crossing the day off the fridge calendar at about 11 p.m. and noticed that I was supposed to have made and delivered a meal to that family about six hours earlier.
I absolutely panicked. It was nearly midnight, and there was nothing I could do—it was too late at night to even call and apologize! I pictured the family waiting for the pastor’s wife to bring dinner, and then eventually having to scrounge up something themselves as the hours ticked by. I was mortified to have let them down and to have forgotten something so important. This was, in my opinion, the epitome of flakiness. I didn’t sleep at all that night. The next day I called the family and apologized profusely. I stopped by their house later and dropped off some baked goods that I’d hurriedly put together early that morning. They were kind and gracious, but fourteen years later, I’ve never forgotten the incident. What I would have given for a smartphone back then to remind me about such things!
I’m slowly working my way through the Sermon on the Mount these days, and I thought about that forgotten dinner recently when I read Matthew 5:33-37. In the middle of his shocking talks through anger, lust, retaliation, and persecution, Jesus weirdly addresses the subject of oaths. It sort of feels out of place, right? I mean, the only times I have taken oaths were at my wedding and in court when we finalized our sons’ adoptions. In a culture where oath-taking is restricted to courtrooms and ceremonies, how can we apply Jesus’ words about keeping our word?
Again, you have heard that it was said to those of old, “You shall not swear falsely, but shall perform to the Lord what you have sworn.” But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not take an oath by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. Let what you say be simply “Yes” or “No”; anything more than this comes from evil. (Matthew 5:33-37)
It’s important to note here that Jesus isn’t really referencing forgotten dinners. He is talking about swearing or using God’s name to garner belief in one’s words, especially when one doesn’t really plan on keeping those words. D.A. Carson notes that by the time Jesus was walking the earth, “the Jews had built up an entire legalistic system around the Old Testament teaching. In the Jewish code of law called the Mishnah, there is one whole tractate given over to the question of oaths, including detailed consideration of when they’re binding and when they’re not…These oaths no longer foster truthfulness, but weaken the cause of truth and promote deceit. Swearing evasively [became] justification for lying.1” Essentially, the Jews had given themselves loopholes for keeping their word. They could double-back to what they’d promised and say, “Well, now I swore by Jerusalem, which means I don’t have to do what I said I’d do. If I’d sworn toward Jerusalem, then I definitely would have followed through.” Using some fancy linguistic footwork, they could avoid being held to their word. “Swearing evasively [became] justification for lying.2”
Jesus, ever aimed at uncovering sin at the heart level, simply did away with the possibility of deceitfulness by commanding that we give up oaths altogether. He told his disciples to simply say “yes” or “no” and to keep their word. Manipulating people with murky discourse is at odds with Christ-following. Truthfulness is what he requires at every level. So, if you’ve committed to something, follow through because you are a follower of Jesus.
I think we make excuses to give ourselves a way out of something so we don’t lose face if we forget to show up, or when we simply choose not to because we don’t feel like it or have found something more enjoyable to occupy our time. Or, after so many occasions of not following through, we begin to heap up phrases like “I promise I’ll show up!” or “I swear on my mother’s grave that I’ll be there!” People never know for sure if you mean what you’re saying. I believe the layman’s term for this is flakiness.
If I asked you to mentally tally the people you know you can depend on, you’d know exactly who not to put on that list. It’s the person who never shows up when they say they will (or at all), who cancels constantly, who can’t be trusted with important things because they’re more likely to flake on you than to follow through. And because we’re all blighted with sinful natures, we’ve likely been that flaky friend at one time or another.
Following Christ, however, requires that we put that flaky nature to death and think of others as more important than ourselves. Practically that might mean not over-scheduling your life so that you can be sure to show up to do what you’ve said you’ll do for friends or church members. It means considering the needs of others more important than your desire to stay home and watch Netflix. It means seeking to be that dependable person others can count on for prayer and care and hospitality—being that person your church members know they can put on their “dependable” list. It means being who you say you are, and if you’re in Christ, being who you really are—not who you used to be.
If you are in Christ, then you have been crucified with Christ and you–the old you–no longer live. The life you now live in the flesh, you live by faith in the Son of God who loves you and gave himself for you (see Gal. 2:20). A life of integrity—saying yes or no and meaning it and not hedging it with a bunch of caveats or linguistic loopholes—is possible because you belong to Christ. Just as Jesus pointed out the hypocrisy in the Pharisees for giving to the needy, praying, and fasting for public praise in Matthew 6, he was pointing out the hypocrisy in manipulating promises to look like you’re doing something impressive that you have no intention of actually doing.
In all things, we should image Christ in our relationships with others. We should be dependable and kind, considering others as better than ourselves when it comes to whether or not we’ll follow through with what we’ve said we’ll do. I think some of our tendencies toward flakiness are rooted in selfishness rather than excessive busyness or over-scheduling. If we love others with love that is sacrificial and kind, that bears others up when they are suffering, then we will keep our word with integrity.
You don’t need to make an oath to be believed. Your follow-through, or lack thereof, will speak louder than any promise you might make.
When I catch myself piling up promises to be somewhere, do something for someone, or keep an appointment for a meeting, I can usually trace my oaths and excuses back to a series of broken commitments. That flakiness looks a lot more like a lack of love for others than an overbooked calendar. Thankfully, there is a lot of grace for things like forgotten dinners or emergencies or unforeseen changes in plans; that’s not really what Jesus seemed concerned about. Integrity is what he is focused here. As far as it depends upon us, we should be who we say we are, do what we said we’ll do for in truthfulness, we point others to a God who can be trusted. We can encouraged by Jesus’ words in Matthew 5 to be certain that our words and actions are in agreement.
You don’t need to make an oath to be believed. Your follow-through, or lack thereof, will speak louder than any promise you might make. Share on X
1D.A. Carson. Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount and His Confrontation with the World: An Exposition of Matthew 5-10. (Grand Rapids, MI: Global Christian Publishers, 2001), 50.
2Ibid.
Photo by Eric Rothermel on Unsplash
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.