The Art of Making Commitments

Unitarian Universalist blogger Peacebang recently found someone very special (congratulations!) and asked for stories about commitment:

Let’s hear about the couples who met and knew, before very long that they had found the brass ring, let’s hear about the ones who clicked and made it stick, the ones who found each other, who spoke “commitment” not as a dirty word but as a delicious caress on the ear. Let’s hear about those of you who dated for as long as I have and at long last met someone whose integrity and goodness your heart could immediately detect even through thick, crusty layers of hurt, disappointment, bitterness and cynicism.

She sums up so much better than I could the joy of making a commitment to the right person, to someone with “integrity and goodness.” And as Peacebang notes, this kind of person is not easy to find.

At first, I considered titling this post “The Virtue of Making Commitments,” describing commitment as an inherently good thing. Then I reconsidered. In romantic relationships, it’s glorious to make a commitment to someone who treats you well and treats themselves well. And it’s disastrous to make a commitment to someone who is abusive, self-destructive, or just totally incompatible with you.

Knowing when to commit, and when not to, is an art. And it’s an art that applies not only to romantic relationships, but to almost all areas of life: friendships, family, work, health, finances, and, of course, religious life.

One of the sermons I remember most clearly was preached by Rev. Thomas Mikelson, on the occasion of our church adopting a new church covenant. He compared the congregation’s covenant to a marriage covenant, and remembered his and his wife’s own decision to marry years earlier:

We wanted to risk another covenant of marriage, Taking the risk of a second marriage covenant was actually frightening for us both, as I now understand clearly, it should be. Entering any covenant is a serious matter. Entering a covenant is making promises about the unknown future.

This sermon had an impact on me.

My own marriage, which we were blessed to have Thomas officiate, has been the single greatest source of joy, hope and affirmation in my life. I was lucky to have the chance to choose Shai as my life partner. And I too was nervous before our marriage, awed by the gravity of the commitment I was about to make. And yet, I was eager to begin our married life. I believed that we could share evenly more deeply with one another, and support one another even more fully, once we had made the commitment to join our lives together. All of that has come to pass. And we live out both the gifts and the challenges of our commitment each day.

There are also areas of my life in which I’ve struggled with commitment, making commitments to the wrong choices and waiting too long to break those commitments.

Yes, there are times when one needs to break a commitment. This may seem counterintuitive. As Thomas writes later in his sermon, “A covenant kept is a thread of hope to hold on to. A covenant broken is a torn thread that leaves many people dangling.” Yet, many of us know the times when we’ve realized that our covenant is a rope, tying us up too tightly, so that even to be dangling is better.

The fear of making the wrong commitment, and the desire to make the right commitment, also influences our religious choices. As a Unitarian Universalist, I am not bound by a creed to belong to a particular congregation — or even to belong to a congregation at all. There is no sacred text that tells me I must be part of a congregation in order to receive God’s blessings in this life, or in the next.

But precisely because Unitarian Universalists are not required to follow a shared creed, our commitments to one another are all the more crucial. As I wrote in an earlier post, “What Do Unitarian Universalists Believe?,” “what we have in common is that we commit to a way of being together in our congregations,” (as expressed in the seven principles).

I believe that just as in romantic relationships, when one finds the right congregation, it is worth making a commitment. Almost five years ago, I made a commitment to my home congregation (the First Parish in Cambridge), when I joined as a member. I will tell you that as the years have gone on, that commitment has been tested, sorely at times. This church year has been especially difficult, in large part due to the fact that the congregation is searching for new settled ministers in both our senior minister and associate minister positions. I wonder what the future holds, both for the congregation, and my relationship with it.

At the same time, the fruits of commitment blossom more with each year I’m there. My congregation is sometimes described as chilly to newcomers, and at first I felt extremely awkward at coffee hour and other gatherings. But now, attending service feels like coming home. I wave to people across the pews and hug them after service, greeting them with genuine affection and remembering all the little conversations (and some big ones) we’ve shared over the years. This congregation is where I have done so much growing up, and I couldn’t have done it without the steadfastness and encouragement of my fellow congregants.

So while Unitarian Universalism does not require commitment to a UU church or community, making such a commitment to the right community can be deeply nourishing, both for the person who makes that commitment and for the UU community to which he or she commits.