The Magnitude of Commitment

Well, here I am again. It's been a fast-paced month of final preparations for the wedding of one of my younger sisters. For over two weeks, our house was a revolving door with various family members cycling in and out. On more than one occasion, our kitchen was the site of baking extravaganzas and craft fests. And while we don't hold the record for mileage (my mother took a brand new car out of the rental lot and returned it 2 weeks later with over 2500 clicks!), we put well over 1000 kms on our vehicle. It felt almost odd yesterday to leave the car parked in the driveway all day long! But all the planning and working and running and hosting were well worth it. It was a joy to see our dear sister united before God to a faithful, godly man who is suited to her and loves her well, and to send them off into holy matrimony with our blessing. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Jan and Elizabeth Chen!

One of the benefits of a family wedding was that it brought my two living grandparents to town. I had seen my paternal grandmother this past summer, but I hadn't seen my maternal grandfather since another sister's wedding 4 years ago. At one point, he was over at our house and during a lull in the activity, I found him reading our wedding vows, which hang on our wall next to our wedding photo. They're the traditional ones--the ones that pledge to remain faithful for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as long as we both shall live. When he finally turned around, he wondered aloud, "What do most people say these days?" speaking of the more temporary nature of many "modern" marriages. Then he added, "Of course, we didn't understand the magnitude of that commitment when we made it." And then he began to talk about his 62 years of marriage to my grandmother, years that aside from the normal strains and tensions of two sinners living in the same house included loving her through cancer, multiple sclerosis, two terrible car accidents (same intersection, different drunk drivers, 10 years apart) and in her final years, dementia. He's still a strong man, all his wits intact, getting up on chairs to hang pictures at midnight during the clean-up after the wedding. But that was never an excuse for him to run off and do his own thing, to not spend hours almost every day sitting with my grandma at the nursing home, helping her in her great weakness. And despite all they went through together, and all he went through alone at the end when death finally parted them, he still speaks of her with great love and obvious care.

You know, I'm pretty sure very few, if any, of us truly understand the magnitude of the commitment we make when we solemnly vow before God and his people that we will be faithful until death, even when that includes worse and poorer and sickness and sorrow. We may mean every single word, but we can't understand the full extent of that promise until the test comes. And marriage is glorious and full of many joys, but that test WILL come. Whether it's circumstantial hardships like rattling cars with no money for repairs, the whole family coming down with the stomach flu at once, disabilities, cancer or lay-offs, or whether it's the "worse" of  being stabbed through the heart by the hurtful words or actions of your own "second half", or of your own sinful words and actions against them, the tests come to every couple. We live in a sin-cursed world; we marry sinners; we ARE sinners... there's no way around hardship in life and marriage. And it's not in the sunny times, but in those dark mercies that the magnitude of our commitment becomes clear.

But this is exactly why marriage is such a beautiful and striking picture of Christ and the Church. The reason that marriage is meant to last until death is not because we need the helping hand, the companionship or the intimacy until our final days. It's not primarily about us and our needs. And it's not because it's easy, either. Marriage is permanent because Christ's commitment to his church is permanent, fixed, absolute, never changing, always enduring. Christ never looks at his people and says, "Well, I know I said I'd stick it out until the end, but really, I didn't know what I was getting in to. These people! If you only really knew them, you'd understand why I just can't put up with it anymore!" He never looks at our weakness and repeated failures and says, "This is not the person I married. I don't even know who you are anymore!" No, even when we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot disown himself (2 Tim. 2:13) He says he will never leave or forsake us, he means every word, and he does fully understand the magnitude of his commitment, because he went to the cross to have us, even while we were still weak sinners.

It is God's unswerving faithfulness to his word that is an anchor for our souls, the rock that enables us to remain faithful to our promises even in the midst of heavy storms and deep darkness. And it is God's unrelenting faithfulness to his people that is the refuge of hope, peace and forgiveness for all believers with failed marriages and broken promises.

When I think about my grandpa's 62 years of faithfulness to my grandma, all the way until her dying day, it is but a small reflection of my Saviour's faithfulness to me. And it is my prayer for Elizabeth and Jan, for Nathan and I, and for all of us, that our marriages will display the magnitude of the glorious commitment Christ has made to his church and that they may be a picture of God's incomprehensibly great faithfulness to his people before our children and grandchildren, and before a watching world, that coming generations might sing the praises of our God and the magnitude of his commitment to his bride.