Promise is one of those wonderful, difficult, sometimes loaded words in evangelical culture. It has a particular kind of meaning in church circles that it does not necessarily carry in larger society.
“All God’s promises are yes and amen!”
Do you remember hearing those words? What, on earth, does that mean? In parts of the evangelical church, and within the prosperity gospel, the promises of God apparently have a lot to do with your earthly life and your personal desires. I remember hearing over and over again from some Christians, that we are to “claim God’s promises”. Pieces and parts of the Bible would be extricated from the larger context, truncated down to the point where they could be claimed as a promise for the day or a promise for personal well-being.
My favourite example:
“‘For I know the plans I have for you’, declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.’” (Jer. 29:11)
CLAIM IT! It’s a promise! And it’s in God’s Word!
Trouble is, it is addressed to people who are about to enter 70 years of exile from their land and home. The ones who are hearing it will actually die in exile (so the “you” was a collective “you”, and the “future” was, at least in part, after the lives of those hearing the words). Maybe you don’t want to claim a promise like that. Maybe you would rather think that those words in the book of Jeremiah have to do with what God is going to bless YOU with THIS VERY DAY.
I try this exercise as kind of a joke I share with God in prayer;
I am driving to a busy area near my house to run a few errands. For things to go well I need a good parking spot. I pray to God,
“I am claiming my promise, O Lord! You promised good for me. I need a parking spot, O Lord!.”
Now, choose your own adventure;
Option 1 - A parking spot is available and it’s perfect.
Explanation A: God has obviously fulfilled his promise to me and I have demonstrated great faith in claiming it.
Explanation B: There happened to be a parking spot available, but it really didn’t have to do with my prayer. Parking spots do become available at times, even without prayer.
Explanation C: God likes humour and can be a bit sarcastic, so just this once he orchestrated the cars moving around for my benefit.
Option 2 - A parking spot is not available and I drive around and around and around, growing more frustrated (and cursing God) with each rotation.
Explanation A - It doesn’t mean that God is cursing me. I just happen to be in an area where the ratio of cars to parking spots is such that it is difficult to get a spot.
Explanation B - God is answering my prayer, but the answer is “no” or “wait” and he is answering this way for my spiritual blessing. He knows what I need better than I do. I must not actually need this parking spot right now. (Though I KNOW that I need the spot, so “Why, O Lord! How long, O Lord.”)
Explanation C - God doesn’t care at all about my parking spot or is answering the prayer of that guy who got a spot just in front of me.
But wait…
“All God’s promises are yes and amen!”
What on earth does that mean?
Jürgen Moltmann in “Theology of Hope” writes that the New Testament consistently refers to God as “the God of promise” (Hebrews 10:23, 11:11 and many other places). Moltmann focusses this assertion more in the reminder that this description is aligned with a particular Christology. That is, the promises of God have to do with Jesus and with the hopeful future for the world and the cosmos in light of who Christ is.
So, what about my parking spot, or my job or my family?
Have you watched the news this week?
I have. It’s depressing.
Quick list:
Terror in Afghanistan.
Earthquake and destruction in Haiti.
COVID variant that is now spreading and affecting children. (And the people who still seem to think that their individual rights trump their obligation to the common good.)
Wildfires in our province and around the world.
Oh, and a federal election. Election campaigns don’t tend to make people more cheery and agreeable.
So, can the people of Haiti simply, “claim God’s promises for them”? What about those in Afghanistan, or the people who are under evacuation order, or those who have lost their home?
If the rest of the world is on fire or caught in a plague or in political turmoil is it really a wonderful thing to know that God has “promised” that your day will be just fantastic?
We need to do some growing up over what the word “promise” means in Christian theology. Promise has to do with the future and with Jesus and with the completion of things. God does love and bless us in the here and now, and I might just pray for a parking spot and I might just say “Thank you, Lord” if I get one, but I don’t actually think that God promised me such a convenience.
Moving the concept of promise from a self-focussed view to a larger view of God’s promises over all history helps us to see more clearly and to love better.
It’s kind of dickish to feel so self-assured about God’s promise to you in regards to comfort or wealth when people right around you suffer terrible sorrow or loss.
Moltmann reminds us that in Jesus, in moving from death to life, "the future is announced and promised”.
This can inform and shape my prayers;
Dear God,
Help me to live in light of your promises over all history even as I see such suffering and loss in the world. Help me to pray for and care for and share with others. Help me to know that no one is outside of your love. Even as I see this news from around the world, show me the light of your love for all people.
Moltmann puts it this way,
What God has promised in Jesus is “a new possibility altogether for the world” (the whole world).
I can assure you that hopeful Christian theology states that God what God has promised to you (and to everyone) is so very very much better than even the best parking spot. These days, it’s good to know that.
I pray that at this time in which our frailty and limitation and self-focus are obvious, that I would see the light of that new and promised possibility.