This is Thomas, hijacking Amy’s blog to post about our 30th wedding anniversary - which is today. I love you, Amy!
Last Friday night, Amy and I were enjoying the afterglow of Mark John West’s marriage to his new bride Maria. Everyone else had left for the reception, except for the two of us, and Jayson Knox – who had performed the ceremony.
Amy turned to me, her eyes sparkling. “Thomas, let’s renew our vows.” I suddenly saw the brilliance of her realization of the unexpected opportunity God had afforded us. We were in a beautiful outdoor wedding chapel, with the setting sun lighting up the openings and the cracks in the tall wooden door. Our 30th anniversary was only four days away. And we were alone with Jayson, who had also married us on July 21, 1990.
“Let’s do it!”
We stood hand-in-hand, staring steadily into each other’s eyes. Jayson graciously prompted each vow –
I Thomas, take you Amy …
I, Amy, take you Thomas …
for better or for worse …
for richer or for poorer …
in sickness and in health …
until death do us part.
This is my solemn vow.
We sealed it with a kiss, just as we had those thirty years earlier in the sanctuary of Hope Chapel.
Three days later, on our anniversary eve, we sat at a picnic table with a bottle of Becker wine, waiting for our Texas steaks to arrive. Amy suggested we share memories of the last thirty years. She started:
“I remember back in 1989, the night in Big Bend when you spoke to me about covenant. That’s the moment I really fell in love with you. What did you tell me about covenant?”
“I don’t remember, Amy … but I’m glad I said it, whatever it was.”
“What do you think about covenant, now?”
A good question. One that I didn’t have an answer to last night.
But today I began thinking about the renewal of our vows.
In one sense, we said the same words – so it could be considered to be the same vow. But neither of us are the same person we were back in our youth. Then the daring words we spoke were like a leap of faith. Now, they are more of an embrace of joyful pain. I am much more aware of my own weakness, and of Amy’s glory. She has seen my better, and my worse. We are both facing the turn from the rosy years of health, into the sunset years where our physical bodies begin to break down. We both expect poorer, not richer.
So our solemn vow on Friday was not an old vow, rote-repeated.
But nor was it a new vow, cut from whole cloth. We committed to each other, again. We have come through complexity and found simplicity on the other side. We are flesh of flesh and bone of bone, a mystery of unity mirroring the unity of the Trinity. We have seen the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. “Give us our daily bread, forgive us our sins.” We have seen, heard, smelled, tasted and touched the kingdom, the power and the glory.
Our vow is not an old vow. Our vow is not a new vow.
Our vow is a renewed vow.
My thoughts turn to the prophet Jeremiah:
“The days are coming,” declares the Lord,
“when I will make a new covenant
with the people of Israel
and with the people of Judah.
It will not be like the covenant
I made with their ancestors
when I took them by the hand
to lead them out of Egypt,
because they broke my covenant,
though I was a husband to them,”
declares the Lord.
“This is the covenant I will make with the people of Israel
after that time,” declares the Lord.
“I will put my law in their minds
and write it on their hearts.
I will be their God,
and they will be my people.
No longer will they teach their neighbor,
or say to one another, ‘Know the Lord,’
because they will all know me,
from the least of them to the greatest,”
declares the Lord.
“For I will forgive their wickedness
and will remember their sins no more.”
What is this new covenant?
It is a renewed covenant. It has history now. The leap of faith was Abraham passing through the smoking carcasses. Now in the embrace of joyful pain, God passes through the smoldering ruins of Israel’s failures. Israel knows her weakness – and also the glory of the Promised Land, the glory of David’s kingdom. There is a foundation of the Law and the Prophets.
Who is this renewed covenant with?
“The days are coming,” declares the Lord,
“when I will make a new covenant
with the people of Israel
and with the people of Judah.
…
“This is the covenant I will make with the people of Israel
after that time,” declares the Lord.
…
“Only if these decrees vanish from my sight,”
declares the Lord,
“will Israel ever cease
being a nation before me.”
…
“Only if the heavens above can be measured
and the foundations of the earth below be searched out
will I reject all the descendants of Israel
because of all they have done,”
declares the Lord.
The new renewed covenant is not with me, a Gentile. Nor my people, the nations. We try to appropriate the new covenant for ourselves. We gather around the communion table, we repeat Jesus’ startling words – “This is the new covenant” – but we do not realize Jesus is hearkening back to Jeremiah. As if to say, “This is the new covenant (with the people of Israel) – in my blood!”
So am I left out?
By no means!
I did not speak above about the renewest part of the renewal of our vows. Our five children. Our heart-adopted son. Our daughter-in-law, and our son-in-law. The three grandchildren we saw and spoke to this morning. Our two hidden grandchildren – one in the womb, the other in heaven.
These thirteen new persons were on our hearts and in our minds when Amy and I solemnly revowed to each other last Friday. They have been enfolded in, welcomed into the covenant, part of the promise. Ten have sprung forth from our seed. Three have been grafted in. All are equally loved, equally part of our covenant family.
Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments,
and his paths beyond tracing out!
“Who has known the mind of the Lord?
Or who has been his counselor?”
“Who has ever given to God,
that God should repay them?”
For from him and through him and for him are all things.
To him be the glory forever! Amen.