Commit Anyway
Freedom and Responsibility, Part 3
In last week’s post, I shared my view that lasting joy comes from durable commitments and keeping faith.
If that is true, then the choices we make are important.
It’s rare that we’re choosing between “good” or “bad.” Most choices involve aspects of both. Choosing requires trade-offs; we must weigh the positive and negative aspects of each possible choice so we can choose wisely. By implication, as we grow in wisdom and maturity, our decision-making will become more consistently good. But we will unavoidably make choices that have unanticipated consequences.
It would seem important, then, to make the “best” choice. When we choose, we cut off other options. What if one of those options proves to have been better than the option we chose? In a culture with a self-fulfillment ethos, we can imagine nothing worse. This can cause us to agonize over difficult decisions, wanting to be sure that we don’t make a mistake. I see many people live suspended on the brink of commitment, paralyzed by fear about the unknowns they face.
Ironically, the teaching we receive in church often makes this anxiety worse. The prophet Isaiah wrote (I quote the King James Version here, because I love the melody of its phrasing), “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee.” (Is. 26:3) Beautiful words, and yet evangelical teaching sometimes magnifies anxiety rather than producing peace.
We’ve all heard pastors say, “God has a perfect plan for your life.” If that is the case, then of course we should strive to find that perfect plan. The implication of a ‘perfect’ plan, though, is that any deviation is potentially disastrous. Young people pray for God to guide them; they want very specific guidance, because they wish to avoid making mistakes. As every experienced adult knows, though, God doesn’t always guide us in a crystal-clear way.
The reason for God’s apparent reticence is that he wants us to grow in wisdom. The Bible teaches that wisdom is the most precious of possessions, and it comes from seeing our experience through the lens of biblical truth. And experience consists of – mistakes.
Do you see the fallacy in the way we often think about this process? We want to make good decisions – nothing wrong with that, of course – and so we ask God to keep us from making mistakes. But mistakes play an essential role in our growth.
Here is a hard truth: We should make and keep commitments even though we are likely to make mistakes in at least some of the commitments we make. While the Bible doesn’t say, “God has a perfect plan for your life,” it does say, “In all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). Though each of us makes mistakes along the way, God can bring good from any mistakes we make. Accordingly, we need to be ready to persevere when we commit to a choice that has unanticipated consequences.
And yet, not many mistakes must be persevered with to the bitter end. How do we discern when to stay and when to walk away?
It seems to me that the answer lies in the level of commitment that a decision requires or implies. Many of the decisions we make are inconsequential. If I order a meal at a restaurant that I’ve never tried before and find that I don’t like it, I don’t have to eat it. All that is required is that I pay for it.
Other decisions launch an experiment. Since most experiments are not successful, it’s good to keep the level of commitment as low as possible.
However, If performing the experiment requires a commitment from others, your commitment needs to be commensurate with theirs.
For example, I joined the board of an organization last year at the request of a colleague with whom I’d worked closely in another setting. I agreed to serve a three-year term. What is being asked of me is very different than what I understood coming in; I plan to meet with the executive director next week to talk about resigning from the board, because what they want from board members has little overlap with what I bring to the board. If I can resign amicably, I will; if not, I’ll serve out my term. After all, my board service comprises a mutual commitment; it’s not right for me to walk away unilaterally.
I think that mutuality frames the best criteria for whether we persevere in a commitment that may have been mistaken. A contract provides an analogy. When two or more individuals or groups make a contract, it cannot be voided unilaterally, unless the contract itself defines specific instances where this can be done.
If you’re considering walking away from a commitment that, in retrospect, you wish you hadn’t made, consider what the commitment looks like to the other party. Will you wrong them if you walk away? It’s hard for me to see a moral justification for wronging another person because you accepted a responsibility you now find to be onerous or unpleasant. Consider whether you need to stay and fulfill what you committed to. If you conclude that the path of integrity requires that you fulfill your commitment, remember that God can give you grace, not only to endure it but to bring good from it. And whatever you might lose by keeping this promise is likely to be far outweighed by the opportunities that will come when you are known as a promise-keeper.
A critical aspect of committing wisely is to ensure that the commitment is indeed mutual – not only that you are both committing to fulfill the same expectations, but that the other’s level of commitment is equal to your own. If you believe that marriage should be for life, and you are considering marrying someone who views the marriage commitment as something less, realize that the relationship will be unstable from the outset. That mismatch will create pressure and stress for both of you, magnifying the likelihood that your commitment will be put to the test.
I end this post where I started: Few if any of the good things that life has to offer can come your way without commitment on your part. And yet, all good things have some less-than-desirable alloy in our fallen world; all relationships and involvements will have rough patches; and all commitment comes with risk.
Commit anyway. As I look back on almost 70 years of life, I’ve made some commitments that ended disastrously, most often because I took a risk that simply didn’t pan out. But I survived all of them, and more than that I learned and grew from them. Life is an adventure, and you can only explore it when you’re in motion. By all means, be prudent, but don’t let risks loom so large in your thinking that you fail to embrace the opportunities that commitment can open up to you.
Jack Jr.’s new book, Becoming Yourself: A Perspective on Christian Character is now in print. You can order your copy HERE at our website
Wise counsel. Thank you.
Amen. Like a parent watching a child grow and develop, God enjoys watching our journey of making choices and growing in wisdom. It’s fun “walking the tightrope,” knowing that there is a sovereign safety net somewhere down below.