A Word Worth Keeping: Integrity, Witness, and God’s Protection

A Word Is Worth Everything — Or Nothing

I find even so-called "spiritual leaders," "Messianic rabbis," and pastors who act like the spoken word is not really binding. For some, even the written word or a legal contract is not necessarily respected because the court system in Israel is so lenient. And yet this is one of the most important teachings in all of Scripture — from Numbers 30, to the Sermon on the Mount, to James, to the entire story of Paul's journey to Jerusalem.

I have had elders of a church who sat in a meeting with me and made promises, and when they went home and told their wives what they had committed to, their wives changed their mind. They called me back and said, "Joseph, it would be better for you to forget what we decided in the elders meeting. It is not going to happen." I said, "But you made this commitment and I have it recorded on tape." The next day these same elders actually resolved the problem on a personal basis and not from the congregation. They were honest men, and they kept their promise unofficially — without everyone, including their wives, knowing it. Those were men of integrity.

The harder cases involve the testimony of Yeshua in the marketplace. It is always one of the hardest things for me, and for others in Jerusalem, to have some merchant in town who knows that we are believers in Yeshua, and he tells us that a known Jewish believer in Yeshua has cheated him and made promises without any intention of keeping them. Even more serious are cases where a Christian missionary has taken a product from the shop with the promise to return it the next day after he shows it to his wife. Months later the Christian has not returned the product, has not answered his phone, has not kept his promise. When our words put us to shame, they put Yeshua our Lord to shame as well.

The Arab Shop Owner Who Said the Unsayable

I have to share a story about one of the most famous and respected pastors in the United States. He visited our congregation in Jerusalem, and we asked him to preach and share God's word with us. He looked at the suit I was wearing and said, "I want to invite you to come to my city and preach in my church, but the way you are dressed I can't let you on my pulpit. I will have to take you and get you a proper suit." I said fine — this pastor didn't know that my suits were all handmade by an old Arab tailor who lived on the Mount of Olives, and that the material was purchased in London and was some of the best that money can buy. I said nothing.

The next day the pastor picked me up and took me to the fanciest men's shop in that town. Each suit was from Italy — the cheapest, even on sale, were 3,000 US dollars and up. After nearly two and a half hours of trying on suits, I was tired and chose the cheapest one in my size. The pastor added shirts, socks, shoes, and underwear to the purchase. When we came to the cashier, I noticed the owner was an Arab, originally from Egypt. I started to speak to him in Arabic. When it came time for the pastor to pay, he took out a wad of hundred-dollar bills in what is called a Mexican bankroll. The Egyptian owner said to me quietly in Arabic: "Joseph, do you know who comes to my shop and buys expensive clothes and always pays in cash?" I said in Arabic, "No sir!" The Arab said: "Only pastors and pimps."

The book of Proverbs says:

The first person who said this to me was a stranger I met in the streets of Jerusalem — Gordon Lindsay, who founded Christ for the Nations in Dallas. I was a stranger to him and he was a stranger to me. But just this one meeting with this man of God, and his words, kept me many times from falling. Let our "yes" be "yes" and our "no" be "no" — not just from the pulpit, but to the merchant in town.

The Law That Actually Honors Women

Now to the part of Parashat Matot that is not politically correct — and I am happy that the Torah is witnessing against the politically correct cult that rules the streets of our modern godless towns. The Torah of Numbers 30 gives women a privilege that men do not have: a woman's father, if he hears of a vow his daughter made and overrules her on that same day, can release her. A husband has the same right. The vow is annulled. The Lord releases her.

I believe in equality. And I would like to have equality with women — if only for this specific privilege that women have received from the almighty God: that their promises and vows and self-imposed obligations can be annulled by their father or their husband. When I make a promise that I cannot keep, I wish there were someone who could say: "OK, Joe — you should have taken into account all the ramifications of your promises, but you didn't, so let me take this burden off your shoulders. I am your father and I release you." What a blessing that would be.

This is not a limitation on women — it is a protection. God designed us and knows our strengths and our weaknesses, and makes provision to uncomplicate our lives as much as possible. Absolute equality is never a good equality because it doesn't take into account age, mind-set, and the necessity of having someone responsible who can override an oath or vow taken in haste. God does not paint us all with the same brush or the same color, but gives us graciously personal attention and a relationship with Him.