Will Haughton’s Reflection on September 6, 2020
Scripture Reading: 1 Corinthians 15: 1-10
Over the last few months, I’ve become somewhat of a listener to podcasts. I don’t know where this term comes from, but it’s like a pre-recorded radio program that you listen to over the internet. The main benefit of a podcast is that you can listen to it whenever you like—unlike a live radio program which plays according to a set, broadcast schedule.
I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that many of the podcasts I’ve listened to are about golf. In one of these, I heard an interesting interview with the great English golfer, Lee Westwood. Westwood has had a very long and successful career, now in its twilight, which hasn’t been typical for a player of his calibre. Unlike most top British and European pros, he never moved to America (Florida) or played very many tournaments on the U.S. PGA Tour. The reason I mention all of this is that at one point the interviewer asked Westwood if he had any regrets. To my surprise, he replied that he doesn’t have any—not because everything in his life has turned out swimmingly, but because he doesn’t believe in regrets.
His answer really got me to wondering, is it possible to live without having regrets and, if so, how? I suppose one possibility would be to never make a mistake, but this seems like it would be difficult to achieve. We could perhaps venture to live very cautious lives and never take unnecessary risks, but then we might easily look back and wish we’d taken a chance at some point. Conversely, we could choose to live with reckless abandon only to find out we had perhaps taken too many unnecessary risks along the way.
Regardless of our approach to life, it seems probable that we will reach a point of real difficulty and wonder about the different twists and turns that led us there. Could we not have seen this coming and avoided it with a different decision here or an alternative course of action there? Even if we have learned to live with our circumstances or rationalize, there is likely at least a little regret there for many of us. No matter what course our lives have taken, however, there is good news: whatever is going on today or whatever from the past may haunt us, God offers the possibilities of healing, wholeness and a new beginning.
The Apostle Paul, or Saint Paul, was an interesting example of a person who found renewal and left his regrets behind. Paul of Tarsus was a diaspora-Jew, born in the territory of modern Turkey, who received training as a tent-maker and as a Pharisee. His religious teacher was the great Rabbi Gamaliel of Jerusalem and he went on to become one of the most zealous Pharisees of his generation. His zeal for strict adherence to the Law of Moses was such that he became a fierce, violent persecutor of the earliest Christians. Yet, after an unexpected encounter with the risen Jesus, Paul became one of them and eventually an important leader in their movement.
In our reading today, from his First Letter to the Corinthians, Paul appears to hint at regret—not about his Jewish upbringing or faith but about his violent persecution of those who believed Jesus to be the Messiah. “I am the least of all the apostles,” he wrote, “not worthy even to be called ‘an apostle’ because I persecuted the church of God.” He referred to himself in 15:8 as, according to most of our English translations, “untimely born.” Literally, he is describing himself as an abortion—what could be a shocking statement of self-loathing.
Yet, amazingly, these strong words do not signal regret for Paul. He goes on to say, “by the grace of God, I am what I am.” It is precisely because of what could be regrettable from his past, for Paul, that God’s work through him was seen as all the more generous, remarkable and effective. Imagine how amazing it would have seemed in those days for the biggest persecutor of the early Christians to become the most powerful proponent of their faith? This reversal would have been an amazing source of encouragement for them, as it remains for us. It is not a coincidence that this bit of autobiographical reflection comes in the midst of Paul’s most sustained discussion on the resurrection of Jesus. It is the God who raised Jesus from the dead, he shows, who offers all manner of new beginnings in our lives.
There is an often relayed story which was first told by someone called Jackie Pullinger, who ran a street outreach ministry among the marginalized of Hong Kong. A 72 year old woman, named Alfreda, had been a heroin addict and had worked in the prostitution industry, for most of her life. As a senior citizen, she was forced to inject drugs into her back because her arms and legs were too deteriorated. By then too old to be a “working girl”, her job was to sit outside the brothel and poke the sewer with a stick to keep it flowing. One day, she went to live in one of the outreach ministry’s houses. She was a completely broken person and, at first, difficult to work with. However, she eventually gave herself to God and began a process of remarkable healing and transformation. She later met a 75 year old man named Little Wa. The two fell in love and got married. Ms. Pullinger relayed that their wedding day was a grand occasion. Alfreda walked down the aisle in a white dress, symbolizing a fresh start given by the healing grace of God.
In my own time as a minister, I have witnessed many examples of change and renewal brought about by God’s grace, if not quite as dramatic as that. Often times, God’s work in our lives will bring about gradual change, in fits and starts. Even though the creative power of God is present, transformation generally involves hard work on our parts as well. The wonder of all this, however, is not just that God brings about a new thing in our lives, but that God redeems our brokenness and displays remarkable grace in who we become, warts and all.
A visitor to India once had occasion to visit a shop where beautiful rugs were being woven. The rugs were hanging from the ceiling. The apprentices were on the back side, pushing the threads through to the front according to the pattern. Inevitably, mistakes were made. On the front side was the master weaver. Rather than undoing all the misplaced threads and trying to begin over again, the master would incorporate the mistakes of the students into the design and weave something unique and even more beautiful.
God is like the master weaver in our lives. By the grace of God, all has been woven into a beautiful design of what we become. We can leave behind our regrets, not by force of will but by recognizing it is the grace of God who has made us what we are today and, tomorrow, will be.