that our words be few

Making and Keeping Promises Carelessly

The philosopher Søren Kierkegaard uses Jesus’ parable in Matthew 21:28-31 to reflect on the risks in our practices of promising. In the parable, the two brothers respond differently to their father’s request to work in the vineyard. One refuses but later changes his mind and goes to work; the other brother says he will go but does not. Jesus asks, “Which of the two did the will of his father?”

Kierkegaard writes, 

Though the yes-­brother was not a deceiver when he said “Yes,” he nevertheless became a deceiver when he failed to keep his promise. In his very eagerness in promising he became a deceiver. When you say “Yes” or promise something, you can very easily deceive yourself and others also, as if you had already done what you promised. It is easy to think that by making a promise you have at least done part of what you promised to do, as if the promise itself were something of value. Not at all! In fact, when you do not do what you promise, it is a long way back to the truth. Beware! The “Yes” of promise-­keeping is sleep-­inducing. An honest “No” possesses much more promise. It can stimulate; repentance may not be far away. He who says “No” becomes almost afraid of himself. But he who says “Yes, I will” is all too pleased with himself. The world is quite inclined — even eager — to make promises, for a promise appears very fine at the moment — it inspires! Yet for this very reason the eternal is suspicious of promises.

If we are not thoughtful about the promises we make, and if we ignore our own limitations or the costs involved, we are likely to become habitual promise-­breakers. “Even if a promise is fairly trivial, a cavalier attitude towards the obligation to keep it is not.” Such an attitude reveals much about a person’s integrity, “in much the same way as does cheating at a trivial game.”18 We learn quickly in community that the reliability of a promise is tied to the reliability of the person making the promise, and we are foolish to trust habitual promise-­breakers to follow through on what they say.

It is easy and often personally affirming to say “yes” to requests for our presence or assistance. In one congregation, the senior pastor was unable to say no to parishioners’ requests. Frequently he came back to other staff members with some version of this question: “I know I should have asked first, but can you find a way to do this?” Staff members were in continual turmoil trying to fulfill promises they hadn’t made, promises that should not have been made. Because the pastor wanted to be liked and wanted to avoid conflict, he did not set any boundaries, but then also displaced the fallout on an increasingly weary and frustrated staff.

Without some recognition of our limits, we soon find our commitments in conflict with each other. Rather than deal with the interpersonal challenges of saying “no” initially, we make promises we can’t keep. Then, in the crush of conflicting obligations, we chop off commitments like we’re hacking at brush we’re trying to clear. Sometimes we make promises in order to smooth out relationships in the moment, or to make endings or departures easier. “We’ll get together soon.” “I’ll be in touch — I promise.” In such cases, and in times when we haven’t counted the cost involved in keeping a particular promise, it would be more faithful and truthful not to make a promise than to make one carelessly and break it.

People who take their responsibilities and commitments very seriously, however, can find these discussions about keeping promises burdensome. They already keep their promises, and feel overwhelmed by the responsibility. The challenge for these folks is often in the area of making promises — are they recognizing their own limitations? Are they being pressed into more and more roles because they “come through” even when the costs are mounting up and the community should be finding other ways to accomplish its purposes?

-- Pohl, Christine D. Living Into Community : Cultivating Practices That Sustain Us. Eerdmans, 2012.