Some years back, I found myself in a beautifully preserved medieval city in the country of my birth, Germany. Dating back to the year 950, Rothenburg is the oldest walled city in the Fatherland and lies in the charming Franconian region of the state of Bavaria. The city sits at the crossroads of two of the most breathtaking and scenic thoroughfares of Europe, which wind their way through central and southern Germany – the Romantic Road and the Road of Castles.
On this particular trip, I arrived in the city with some friends following a long flight from the United States. We landed in Frankfurt and were driving to my family home in Northern Bavaria. On the way, we stopped in Rothenburg so I could give my companions a quick tour of the famed city that served as a backdrop in the film Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Wandering the cobblestone streets, we were invited by a local acquaintance to visit an English Speaking Club to converse with erstwhile German soldiers who fought in World War II. The Club meeting was held in a traditional German Kneipe somewhat hidden in the town walls. Entering the ancient pub was a tight squeeze through a narrow passageway. Once inside, the skinny corridor gave way to an old-world watering hole filled with antiquated furnishings and historical artifacts. For the next few hours, I sat at a quaint wooden table surrounded by steins of beer and German veterans who survived not only the Great War, but also Hitler's Nazi regime.
As I probed the astonishing memories of these war heroes, they shared their riveting stories. Their fascinating accounts of the conflict were told from a perspective somewhat counter to American versions. Each narrative was filled with sensory details covering known histories stretching from the Normandy invasion, crossing the Battle of the Bulge, extending to the icy conditions of the Russian front, which ultimately derailed Hitler from conquering the world. With each tale, a picture came together revealing a notable and significant veracity of life: Commitment through difficult times prepares our lives in advance for a fulfillment of life that is only experienced in reverse.
Throughout the world, human relationships either unravel or solidify in times of hardship and crisis. These connections are the one constant that brings our lives enduring meaning and purpose. Never was this clearer to me than in listening to these aged veterans open up about personal details of their lives. Laced through the chronicles of their struggles were romantic tales of love found in a time of war. There were inspiring stories of marriages surviving the unimaginable and hopeful sagas displaying the finest traits found in the human spirit. I saw that not one of these men would choose to live his life differently even given the opportunity. They seemed to possess a depth and quality of life rarely seen today that allowed them to look back over the years and recall difficult and tumultuous times with a touch of nostalgia. They had obviously lived lives that were rewarding and gratifying.
On another occasion, I spent a week with my German grandmother in her home. One evening, she opened up about her life and shared some aspects of living in Berlin during the war. She spoke fondly of hardships and joyfully told me about the period she was pregnant with my mother and trudged daily through the rubble and wreckage of greater Berlin to reach the munitions factory where she worked. In sentimental detail, she spoke of life in the German capital during the unending months Allied planes swarmed the city and unleashed hordes of bombs in an attempt to bring the Third Reich to its knees. At one point, her eyes moistened as she said, "Those were very difficult days but they were some of the happiest of my life." Her words brought to mind something I read previously: Over sixty percent of Londoners who survived the Blitz when the German Luftwaffe utterly destroyed the city remember that time as the happiest of their lives. Somehow a new spirit of life sprang up to eclipse the horror of the bombs in London. In reverse, British citizens discovered a nirvana of life in a time of uncertainty and difficulty – one not seen during the years of struggle. Commitment birthed that nirvana.
As one who is fascinated by world and biblical history, I have read and heard so many versions of the same story. The names, faces, eras, and places change. The dramatic details differ, but the storyline is the same. Difficult times help nourish belief and strengthen bonds, preparing the way for a fulfillment and gratification of life that is difficult to find elsewhere. Such a notion defies all logic and common sense. But crisis, pain, hardship, and conflict lead to a quality and happiness of life that is not seen in advance but is experienced in reverse. Commitment delivers this great reversal to our lives.
A crisis helps to unearth the foundation on which we construct our lives. Difficult times drive us away from the temptations of a self-absorbed life, leading us back to dependence on God and community. We start paying attention to actual human needs instead of falling for the illusions of a superficial culture. In today’s affluent world, much of life is spent trying to avoid difficulty and stringent commitment, thus the high rate of divorce, and thus a culture that abounds with selfishness and an unhealthy focus on pleasure and instant gratification. Oftentimes, our selfish pursuits call for us to abandon our commitments, especially in times of hardship. We lose sight of what might become, of the rewards and gratification that await those who stand firm through the difficulty. Every crisis, no matter how difficult, comes back to bless our lives if we face our fate with courage and commitment. There is no conflict we can endure that will not produce a blessing. It hurts when we go through such experiences and times. However, somewhere in the future we will appreciate and value the trying episodes. They will bring richness to our lives.
Difficulty enables God to act in our lives. It places our reliance square in his hands. We must do our best to not shrink from attributes of commitment in such times. When we concede, we only rob our lives of remarkable demonstrations of God's intervention. We hinder God's ability to unleash the miraculous. This principle is reflected through the historical events and inspiring stories found in the book of Daniel. Israel and Judah had been overrun by the Babylonian Empire. The majority of their citizens were exiled to Babylon. In the midst of the chaos, most of the gifted young men were brought to the King's palace to undergo rigorous indoctrination in the Babylonian ways. Four of them, Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah refused to abandon their loyalty and commitment to God during these long years of captivity. At no point did they compromise their beliefs. Their acts of commitment brought great favor and blessing; they also created unfathomable moments of crisis and conflict. And in the crisis, they clung to God and to one another. As a result, some of the most astonishing miracles in history took place. Could it be that we miss out on the miraculous acts of God in our era, in our lives, because we walk away from our commitments too soon?
Commitment should be an absolute, not provisional. When we make commitments, most of us do not make them with the intent to break them. For the most part, we intend to honor our commitments with sincerity and determination. We are aware they bind us to God and to one another and connect us to a quality of life to come. So why then do we sometimes stray from commitments we make? Is it possible that most of our commitments are made in times of sunshine and then suddenly, out of nowhere, the storms of life arrive, placing enormous pressure on our commitments to unravel?
Storms of life have a way of ravishing our hearts. There are emotions and situations and tensions a human being feels in his life but can't always explain. The truth is, oftentimes there are thousands of steps, and sometimes we don't even know what the steps are, and worse, at any given moment we may not be willing or even able to take those steps; and still worse, they are different for you and me and they are fluid and always changing. Confusion easily sets in and clouds the picture in the window of our minds. Blue skies are swept away. Like a violent tornado that rips through a city, foundations are unearthed, walls to protect are torn down. Fierce winds of life unexpectedly blow conflict and crisis into our world. The landscape of our lives is abruptly and swiftly altered. And in such moments, like Adam, we want to run, we want to hide, we want to avoid the conflict, the chaos, the crisis. We believe we can take things into our own hands and fix our lives quickly with a few steps. Absent of commitment, I don't believe we can.
Every person's life, every marriage, every relationship has crisis times, moments of truth when one person is tempted to give up. Committed individuals, committed relationships survive these moments. Crisis and conflict, pain and hardship, temptation and failure convince many to walk away. These dramatic intrusions cloud our reason and judgment, often blinding us from seeing that great relationships take form when they are stretched to the breaking point and do not break. The deepest strength and deepest love come only through testing. Yes, we can leave. We can walk away. We will find new and fresh love somewhere else. But just like our current relationship, that newness and freshness will fade. Conflict and problems will arise. And then what? When we walk away, when we give up, we abandon a rewarding and gratifying life that awaits, one we can't imagine or recognize when our spirits are wounded. Commitment cultivates in us a depth and breadth of love a couple enjoys on their silver anniversary, not on their honeymoon.
As I write, I write to myself. I have abandoned commitments made in my life. I know all too well the curse and pain of divorce, of a life separated from God. More than most, I carry the shame and pain of such failure in my spirit every day. Though I have awakened to God's forgiveness and accepted his love and healing, this does not erase the consequences of my choices. It does not always restore what has been lost, what has been squandered.
It's an odd feeling to be awakened from a life weakened by selective commitment. I stand there looking in the mirror and my spirit gets an eerie feeling, as though it were haunted by a kind of nothingness, a void of something that could have been, an absence of people who should be by my side. I hear the voices of children and feel the tender touch of a wife who wanted me to listen and to spend time with her and to love her for her. I feel at once the absent glory of a life that should have been. And then, a Voice arises from somewhere within making me understand that commitment is action, it's standing in the storms of life, not running for fields of ease and pleasure to avoid them. The Voice tells me God comes to the side of the committed and though the past cannot be erased, the blessing of a future filled with promise is not stamped out. For under divine inspiration, the Chronicler penned these remarkable words "The eyes of the Lord search the whole earth in order to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him." Commitment will bring life new realities as we allow God to lead us through our failures toward renewal. One's past does not need to be his future.
Hardship, difficulty, conflict, crisis, as absurd as it sounds, point to a better experience where fulfillment comes. God allows troubling times to take place in order to achieve some greater goal. We are designed to live through something rather than attain something. Commitment, then, if one has faith in something bigger than oneself, is the path to experiencing a meaning beyond the false gratification often found in our present world. It prepares our lives to inherit the blessings of the Greater Goal.
When we look back on the life we lived, what we will remember are the stands we took, the times we worked hard to make the world a better place, the sacrifices we made for others. Such acts spring from committed lives. This is what I heard and saw in the stories of the German veterans I met. Their lives did not reflect inflexible determination but rather spontaneity and joy. By investing their freedom in commitment, they secured a deeper freedom for their lives. How brightly a story of commitment shines. There is something beautiful that comes to those who pursue a committed life.
Scripture quoted - 2 Chronicles 16:9
