“When you vow a vow to God, do not delay paying it, for he has no pleasure in fools. Pay what you vow. It is better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not pay. Let not your mouth lead you into sin, and do not say before the messenger that it was a mistake. Why should God be angry at your voice and destroy the work of your hands? For when dreams increase and words grow many, there is vanity; but God is the one you must fear” (Ec 5:4–7).

[The following is a personal account from Pastor Paul]

Some of you know that I do not drink coffee. It had been many years now since I have had a cup. This fact will sometimes arise in casual conversation, and someone will ask why not, assuming one of two things–either that I have some objection to the drink itself or that I have stopped because of a previous addiction or dependency. The answer is far more complicated and it illustrates, perhaps in a unique and rather strange way, the importance of keeping one’s vows, as noted in the sermon Sunday.

I loved coffee. I probably still do. I could enjoy a cup brewed in a carafe, especially if it was a nice, dark blend. But I particularly delighted in the earthiness of a French Press preparation, or even a pour-over. I didn’t drink excessive amounts. Two to three cups a day was normal. And I would fast often enough that I would ensure that going without coffee for a day or two wasn’t a problem. But the Lord brought to my attention that I enjoyed coffee inordinately. It is good to eat and drink and enjoy these gifts from God. But we should often ask ourselves–do I love worshipping God, reading the Bible, fellowshipping with the saints, etc., much more than I enjoy a good meal or even my favorite food? And coffee was one of my favorites. Around twelve years ago I therefore decided to quit coffee. The purpose was to put aside a lesser pleasure and train myself to seek the greater pleasures of God.

Two years later I was doing an evangelistic visit and I was offered a coffee. I refused, as I normally did, but I later considered that I might be putting, in some small way, an obstacle in the way of hospitality, friendship, and even evangelism, by not sharing in this social drink. I further remarked that I had learned the lesson of “greater pleasures,” for which I had begun my abstention. So I proceeded to drink coffee once again, and enjoyed it for a short while.

However, something didn’t sit right with me. My conscience nagged. I thought back to the moment I had decided to give up coffee and I wondered–did I make a vow? I sought the Lord about it, asking for clarity about whether I had indeed made a life-long vow or just a temporary resolution. But no clear answer came. I then asked the Lord to forgive me if I had indeed taken upon myself a foolish vow. I knew that vows are serious to the Lord, but perhaps if it had been a vow, the Lord would release me from it in his grace and forgiveness. But the nagging of my conscience didn’t go away. So, although I didn’t know for certain that I had made a vow, I did know two things: a clear conscience is of great value and “no coffee” is a small price to pay in loving God with a whole heart.

So from that day, ten years ago, I haven’t had a cup of coffee. Would I enjoy it? Immensely. But my conscience is clear and I will find out one day whether I foolishly made a vow about it, or not. Who knows, maybe it won’t be long after that revelation that I will enjoy another cup. Of course, I will be enjoying other things, like Christ Himself, far, far more. It seems like that is the ultimate lesson. Saying no to one thing I loved was a small price to learn it.

“You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore” (Ps 16:11).