Even as a young boy, I knew he was as good as his word.
My paternal grandfather was a simple man. He didn’t come from a wealthy family. In fact, he grew up in a small shack snuggled in the middle of a field—a shack that had to accommodate him, his parents, and five other siblings. To make matters worse, when my grandfather was only twelve, he had to watch his father die, leaving him as the man of the house. Along with an uncle who agreed to help, my grandfather quit school in the sixth grade to care for the family farm. And all of this happened just before the great stock market crash of 1929 and the ensuing Great Depression.
By the time I came along, my grandfather hadn’t changed much in many respects. Although he wasn’t a farmer any longer—he drove an ice cream truck—he remained the simple man he had always been. My grandfather never met a stranger, so talking to anyone he came into contact with meant a conversation, which generally began about the weather.
My grandfather never made much money, so occasionally, he would “rob Peter to pay Paul,” as he said. He might do this to buy a house, purchase a used car (he never owned a new vehicle in his lifetime), make a costly house repair, buy a lawnmower, or get a new washing machine. It took all he and my grandmother made to make ends meet, so anything unexpected meant borrowing money.
Since unexpected things happened more than once, in time, my grandfather built quite a reputation with the local banker, and they became friends. If my grandfather needed money, all he had to do was visit his “friend” at the bank and ask. I’m sure my grandfather had to sign some paperwork—although I doubt it was as much as he’d have to sign if he were alive today—but the manager didn’t run a credit check. He knew my grandfather was as good as his word. If my grandfather said he’d repay the money, he would. If he said he would make a monthly payment of a certain amount on a particular day, he did.
What Jesus teaches—that we shouldn’t make vows or promises and shore them up by swearing by something—is somewhat impossible in developed countries. If I need to borrow, my word alone won’t do. I must sign mounds of paperwork and perhaps even put up collateral. Never have I purchased a car with only a promise to pay.
Although we may have to sign paperwork to borrow money, Jesus’ principle can still apply. The people we make promises to should see we’re as good as our word. And this goes beyond borrowing money. Any promise we make, we should honor, which means thinking carefully about what we promise and taking our promises seriously.
When we’re as good as our word, our character shines through and so does our reputation—something that takes time to build, but something we can ruin by hasty or bad decisions. Once ruined, rebuilding it takes a long time. People know us as truth-tellers or deceivers, someone they can trust or someone they can’t.
Father, help me follow your example by being as good as my word.
