Discussion Questions

The chapter argues that a proven, God-devoted person “is not at all given to lying and swearing” because “isn’t his very life a sure and decisive oath?” What kind of daily patterns (speech, money, work, family life) would have to be present for a Christian’s life to function as that kind of “decisive oath” to outsiders? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What everyday habits in your words, spending, work, and family life would make outsiders trust your life as much as they would trust an oath?

David says an oath “involves taking the Lord’s name,” and that lying/perjury would “wrong God,” even though “we can’t actually harm God.” What does it mean to “wrong” God, and how does that reshape the way you think about “small” dishonesty, exaggeration, or carefully misleading speech? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If lying “wrongs” God even though we can’t hurt Him, what does it mean to wrong God? How does that change how you view “small” lies, exaggeration, or misleading wording?

The chapter gives three motivations for truthfulness: not wronging God, not harming a neighbor (including people “not his intimate friends”), and not wronging oneself. Which of those motivations most exposes what actually drives your truth-telling or your evasions, and what does that reveal about love of God, love of neighbor, and self-regard? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Which reason to tell the truth hits you most: honoring God, not hurting others, or not harming yourself? What does that show about what really drives your honesty or your dodging?

The speaker says the intimate-with-God Christian “does not swear,” and even views “to promise in any way resembling an oath” as swearing—suggesting only “yes,” “no,” or at most “I speak truthfully.” How would early Christians have practiced this in business contracts, civic requirements, or court settings, and where does that collide with how modern Christians justify oaths and formal pledges? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If early Christians tried to use only “yes” or “no,” how would that have worked in contracts, government duties, or court? Where does that clash with how Christians today defend oaths and formal promises?

The chapter claims a godly person “doesn’t swear even when he is asked for his oath” and “never denies what is true even if he is tortured to death.” What does this assume about God’s worth, suffering, and martyrdom that many modern Christians avoid—and what would have to change in us to take that seriously? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What does it say about God’s value and about suffering to claim someone shouldn’t swear and shouldn’t deny the truth even under torture? What would need to change in us to take that seriously?

“This is voluntary righteousness,” he says, arguing that the godly man’s actions “swear to the truth on his behalf,” making verbal oaths unnecessary. In what concrete ways has modern Christianity come to rely on verbal assurances (statements, slogans, “accountability” talk) rather than a life that makes oaths redundant? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How does modern Christianity lean on words—statements, slogans, or “accountability” talk—more than on a life that proves the truth without extra promises? What are some real examples you’ve seen?

The chapter insists, “Those who are intimate with God do not sue,” grounding it in 1 Corinthians 6 and saying the perfected believer “does not even remember wrongs.” What kinds of situations today (abuse, fraud, employment disputes, custody battles, defamation) make you instinctively push back against that claim, and why? JumpstartAnother way to ask: When you hear “Christians shouldn’t sue,” what real-life cases (like abuse, fraud, work issues, custody, or defamation) make you disagree right away? Why do those situations feel different to you?

David goes further: he says Paul doesn’t even allow the intimate-with-God believer to “pray against” the wrongdoer, and that even asking that “wrongdoer will suffer punishment” still falls short of obedience because it isn’t praying for enemies. How does that confront common Christian prayer habits about “justice,” “exposing enemies,” or “God, deal with them,” and what would repentance look like here? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If we’re told not to pray for punishment on wrongdoers but to pray for our enemies, how does that challenge common prayers for “justice” or “God, deal with them”? What would repentance look like here?

He argues that those who go to court “obviously wish to retaliate,” and that even praying against offenders is a way to “do wrong” by seeking to deprive them of God’s compassion. How do you distinguish protecting others or setting boundaries from retaliation, and what inner signals reveal that your desire for “justice” has become a desire to injure? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How can you tell the difference between setting boundaries or protecting others and getting revenge? What signs in your heart show when your “justice” goal has become a desire to hurt someone?

The chapter reframes “brothers” to include not only believers but those “who may later be in the faith,” concluding we should regard everyone as a potential brother because all are God’s work and image-bearers. How would treating an opponent, debtor, plaintiff/defendant, or hostile unbeliever as a “potential brother” change the way you speak about them, pursue outcomes, and measure what you’re willing to lose (including “property” and even bodily life)? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If you treated every opponent as a possible future brother or sister, how would that change how you talk about them and what outcomes you pursue? What would you be willing to give up or risk because of that?