The Power of Strong Promises--July 1, 2021
"This was confirmed with an oath; for others who became priests took their office without an oath, but this one became a priest with an oath, because of the one who said to him, 'The Lord has sworn and will not change his mind, You are a priest forever'--accordingly Jesus has also become the guarantee of a better covenant." [Hebrews 7:20-22]
Promises are made of mere words, but they are strong words. That is especially so when the One making the promise is the living God.
Even just in ordinary human relationships, I would always trust a relationship where someone was willing to go on record making a promise, like a vow or a contract or a covenant, more than I would trust the durability of a relationship where one or both people aren't willing to make that kind of commitment. When I see couples move in together and still intentionally decide not to make the promises we call marriage to one another, I get really worried for their sake--not because I'm worried that a lightning bolt will strike them down, but because I've seen it enough times to know that someone's likely to get their heart broken. Choosing not to make promises of faithfulness to one another when there's the option of doing so sends the message, "I still feel like I'm not in this for the long run," or "My staying here depends on my feelings, which may or may not stay the same." And I've seen too many times before when one person thinks the other is committed, but just doesn't want to make the promises official, only to end up thrown away later like they're chopped liver.
I've seen plenty of times, too, where even the ties you would assume should hold because of biology end up fraying because there isn't a lived-out promise. I've seen families where biological mothers or fathers ditch their kids after they've met someone else, and the kid ends up falling through the cracks, left to be raised by grandparents or foster families or aunts and uncles, because the parents didn't sense that they were bound and obligated to care for the children they had brought into the world. I've seen parents leave behind families because someone new came along and swept them off their feet, and again, the children are left to pick up the pieces on their own, when they should have been able to count on their parents to be there for them. And I've seen what it's like for a friendship to end because there's no guarantee from a promise that it will last and someone new comes along to pull one off in a new direction, leaving the other in the rear-view mirror in a cloud of dust.
And on the other hand, I've heard people making serious promises to each other, or to children, or to the people they are elected to serve, or the congregations they are being ordained to shepherd, and there's something powerful about those words of commitment. To be sure, there are plenty of times where promises, vows, and covenants fail, too--whether it's marriage or an oath of office or an adoption finalization--but when someone has made the most solid, most public, and most serious commitment they can, it means something. There are seasons of life when the promises alone are what keep people in the relationship, and by keeping at it, they work through until there are better times. It's harder to bail out on a child when you've made the promise out loud, "I will care for this child forever." It's harder to bail out on a relationship when you have done more than just move in under the same roof with them. It's harder to betray the people you are sent to serve if you have made a promise before God to do right by them.
And in a sense, that's all that the writer of Hebrews is saying here about the difference between Jesus and the priests from the tribe of Levi throughout Israel's ancient past. For generations, the only thing that made somebody eligible to be a priest was coming from the right biological line--if you were from the right family in the right tribe you were part of the priesthood, whether you took that seriously or not. And while some of those were good and faithful servants who cared for the people well, some didn't live up to that family legacy, and they took advantage of the people they were supposed to care for like shepherds. If there is only ever just some unspoken expectation, it's really easy to bail out on a relationship or a responsibility. But where there is a promise, like a vow or an oath, it's an awful lot harder to just bail out on the ones to whom you have committed yourself. That's what makes Jesus' love for us so compelling: he hasn't just said, "I'll stay with you for as long as I feel like it, until someone else comes along," but rather, "I am bound by an unswerving promise to love and serve and redeem you."
The bottom line is this: Jesus hasn't just agreed to move in with you because it seems convenient or prudent given the circumstances; he has promised to stick with us regardless of how the circumstances may change. Jesus knows that a vow is so much more than just a piece of paper--it is the way of showing those you love that there is no length you are not willing to go to for the sake of those whom you love.
In a world and in a time where relationships and people are treated like they are disposable, it's a beautiful thing to know that there is no level of commitment that Jesus shied away from for your and my sake. Jesus is committed to being with us, caring for us like a faithful servant-leader and shepherd, come what may.
Maybe that kind of assurance is just what someone you know needs to hear about. Maybe you'll be the one to tell them.
Lord Jesus, give us rest in the assurance of your unconditional love.
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