Don’t stop at chapter 37

Helen Fielding’s fictional character, Bridget Jones, has become famous in her own right through books bearing her name and through film adaptations starring Renee Zellweger, and the man best remembered as Mr. Darcy, Colin Firth. Sir David Jason, is also famous in his own right, think Open All Hours,Only Fools and Horses and Frost.

However, you would really have a creative imagination to bring Bridget and Del boy together either in a novel or on screen. It just would not work.

You might have been just a little surprised then, if you had purchased an early edition of Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy – and let’s be clear, I didn’t – to find that at one point the book switches from the story of Bridget’s latest dilemma to the autobiography of the man who turned the Reliant Robin into an icon. No, it wasn’t the result of artistic collaboration between Helen Fielding and Sir David; a mix up by the publishers had produced the most unlikely literary hybrid in living memory. It was all a huge mistake.

There are some parts of the Bible that can sometimes feel a bit like the mix up at Fielding’s and Jason’s publishers.

Take, for instance, Genesis 36-37. In Genesis 36, we have the genealogy of Esau and his descendants. In truth, it’s one of those chapters that you read because it’s in the Bible, but not one that you would be likely to turn to for spiritual comfort or encouragement. It maps out the descendants of Esau. Perhaps rather surprisingly, the narrative is, on the surface, quite positive. Surprisingly, because Esau is not the one who has inherited the blessing. The development of Esau’s family seems to be one of almost unbroken progress. There is little indication of pain or tension, though no doubt there was, as they were all human beings.

Turn over to Genesis 37 and you read about how Jacob’s family is getting on, the family who are right at the centre of God’s purpose. What you are left with is the picture of a family tearing itself apart. Jacob’s favouritism of Joseph produces resentment amongst the rest of his sons. When the opportunity arises to “fix” Joseph, they take it. They tear his ornate robe from his back. They sell him into slavery. When Reuben finds out, he tears his clothes. When Jacob finds out, he tears his clothes. They are not only tearing their clothes apart, this is a family tearing itself apart.

You might wonder how two vastly different stories could sit side by side and more puzzling still, why is the family that is supposed to be blessed by God the one that is in such an unholy mess? The short answer is, we don’t know! We aren’t told. But the two stories are a powerful reminder that grace is not conditioned by the human condition. Grace is not restricted by human recklessness. Grace is not edged out by human ego.

Peter talks about the manifold grace of God (1 Peter 4.10). The dictionary definition of manifold is many and varied forms. The story of Jacob’s family reminds us that grace is just that – manifold.

Grace was bigger than their poor decisions. No-one – no-one – in Jacob’s family acted with any kind of wisdom, discretion or integrity. Jacob must have known what favouritism would produce, since his mother’s favouritism had fuelled the tensions between him and Esau. Joseph, behaved like a big headed, spoilt brat. And the brothers, well, the brothers.

But grace was still at work. Grace is bigger than our poor decisions.

Grace was bigger than their present situation. One day Joseph would be premier of Egypt. That’s grace. Grace is bigger than our present situation.

Grace is bigger than our personal struggles. Joseph was forced into a journey into the unknown. He needed grace. Reuben, racked with guilt, needed grace. Jacob in his loss needed grace. Who could have predicted how grace would meet their need? We all need grace in some way or other. Who can predict how God’s grace will meet our need?

If Genesis ended at chapter 37, then the whole thing would be more than a bit of a puzzle. Twenty-three chapters later, all becomes clear. No-one reading Genesis would stop at chapter 37. Chapter 37 is way too soon to stop. God’s grace doesn’t stop in chapter 37 of your life either. There’s a lot more chapters that grace wants to write.

Making regret work for you

As a younger minister, I used to love reading “If I were starting out again” type articles. They always held out the promise of secrets, learned of course by hard experience, of how to live and lead successfully. I still like to read articles like that. It also has to be said that my age would qualify me to write an article like that!

The trouble is, however, we don’t get the chance to start again. Life might be like a board game in some respects, but when you’re playing a board game you can decide to start a new one without any consequences or implications from the previous game. New starts in life don’t happen like that; the history is permanent.

Of course this brings us to the whole issue of what might have been or what might not have been and the unwelcome spectre of regret.

Regret is a very powerful emotion. According to Hebrews 12, Esau spent a life locked in a kind of tearful regret:

You well know how Esau later regretted that impulsive act and wanted God’s blessing—but by then it was too late, tears or no tears. (Hebrews 12.17).

Regret drove Judas Iscariot to suicide.

How do we deal with regret?

Firstly, recognise regret for what it is.

Regret is, like unforgiveness, in that it is something that causes us to live in the hope of a better past. The foolishness of hoping for a better past highlights the pointlessness of regret. It has no power to change the past, but it has the power to keep us chained to the past.

Living in regret is like keeping driving around a roundabout and never taking an exit – you might be moving but you are going nowhere.

However, we can also redeem regret.

How can we do that? We can learn from our experience. It is one thing to make a mistake and learn from it, another to go on making the same mistake over and over again. If we have the courage to dissect our regret and the events which sparked it we might discover ways to avoid setting ourselves up for future disappointment.:

Give careful thought to the paths for your feet and be steadfast in all your ways. (Proverbs 4.26)

We can also use our regrets to help others. If we have a strong enough connection with others and the courage to reveal our regrets, we might help them to avoid the mistakes we have made.

The reverse is true as well. We can learn from the regrets of others. In 1 Corinthians 10 Paul said that reflecting on the history of Israel could be used as a learning exercise.

And it is possible to be released from regret.

Paul decided to forget his past:

But one thing I do: forgetting what is behind and straining towards what is ahead, I press on towards the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenwards in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3.13-14)

The context makes it clear that Paul hadn’t forgotten the events of the past. What he had done was to change his focus towards a future spent serving Christ. Past performance would no longer shape his future expectation. He was not what he had done.

Our prayer might be “Lord give us the grace to forget.” And He will.