Category: Miscellaneous

The odd ancestry of Jesus, part 1

It’s often said, ‘We can choose our friends, but not our family’. True. And most families include strange people. Like crazy uncle Henry who tells inappropriate stories at family gatherings. Or cousin Maureen who’s been married six times, divorced five times, and everyone’s guessing how long husband number six will last. Or like younger brother Bert who’s rarely talked about and rarely seen because most of his adult life has been in government funded accommodation. (No-one likes to use the word ‘prison’.)

Every family’s different, but it’s not unusual for some of our ancestors or present-day relatives to be odd.

Jesus certainly had odd characters in his family line. In this blog I’ll select three of Jesus’ ancestors listed in Matthew’s gospel, chapter 1, verses 1-16. (Some will know that another genealogy appears in Luke’s gospel. I’ll explain at the end why the two genealogies are not identical.[1]) This time, then, three ‘odd’ people among Jesus’ ancestors, and in the next blog another three.

Does ancestry sound boring or irrelevant? I promise these people are neither. Most of these stories are shameful and shocking, more so than many modern dramas. But it’s significant – even encouraging – that they are part of Jesus’ ancestry.

Three short notes before starting.

  1. At the time Jesus was born, genealogy was hugely important. Matthew began his gospel like this: ‘This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah the son of David, the son of Abraham…’ and what follows is a list of who is the father of whom. His story of the events leading to Jesus’ birth doesn’t start until verse 18. Why open with a genealogy? It was because Matthew was writing his gospel for a Jewish audience, and to a Jew a person’s family line was of utmost importance. To show your impeccable descent as a true Israelite was the most significant part of your ‘résumé’. So Matthew lays out Jesus’ ancestry.
  • Several of the names in Matthew’s list are people we regard as heroes of the faith, both Jewish and Christian. People like Abraham, Ruth, David are great names to have in your ancestry, but they are also ‘complicated’. That doesn’t make them any less great. After all, who’s not ‘complicated’? It’s fascinating and comforting that people who did seriously wrong things were and are heroes of faith.
  • It’s all right to talk about this. It’s tempting never to admit our heroes were flawed, or abused, or had problematic backgrounds. But: a) Matthew’s readers knew all that already; b) We need to know that God uses flawed and complicated people. There have never been any perfect saints.

Now on to the first three ancestors of Jesus.

1. Abraham

This is the man with whom God made a special covenant, that he would have a son, and down subsequent generations would come offspring as many as the stars in the night sky. (Genesis 15:4-5)

Abraham believed God, and in most things tried to go God’s way.

But he didn’t get everything right. In particular he made two enormous mistakes.

First, he handed over his wife Sarah to other men. Sarah was very beautiful, and other men wanted her. To save his own skin he pretended she was only his sister, and allowed them to take her. That happened not just once but twice.

The first time was in Egypt. (Genesis 12) Not knowing Sarah was already married, Pharaoh took Sarah into his harem. In punishment God inflicted serious diseases on Pharaoh and his household. Then it was discovered that Abraham had hidden the fact that Sarah was his wife. Pharaoh was furious and drove Abraham and his people from the land.

You’d think Abraham would learn his lesson. He didn’t.

In Gerar, again he said that Sarah was his sister. (Genesis 20) Abimelek, the king, took Sarah into his harem. But Abimelek had a dream in which God told him Sarah was a married woman, and he was saved from disaster because he had not yet had sex with Sarah. Abimelek was incensed with Abraham for deceit that almost brought destruction on him and all his people. Abraham protested she really was his sister. That was true. Abraham and Sarah had the same father but not mother, so she was his step sister. But she had become his wife, and from the start of their wanderings he had pressured her into concealing they were married in order to keep Abraham safe.

There was nothing good or acceptable in Abraham’s self-preserving dishonesty. He harmed many, none more than his own wife.

Second, Abraham had sex with another woman so he could have the son he was promised. Years went by and Abraham questioned whether God would keep his promise of an heir. He and Sarah were getting old, and Sarah had never become pregnant. It seemed Abraham would never have a son.

Then Sarah made a suggestion. She had a young Egyptian woman called Hagar as her slave. Sarah told Abraham he should have sex with her so they would have a son through her. Hagar would be a surrogate mother for their child. (Genesis 16)

It’s hard to know what Abraham thought but there is nothing in the story to say he protested or had to be pressurised. Because Hagar was a slave she had no choice and she became pregnant.

None of the three characters in the story behave well after that. Hagar seems to have taunted Sarah because she’d conceived when Sarah couldn’t. Sarah was upset. She complained to Abraham who took a hands-off approach by telling her to do whatever she pleased. Sarah then treated Hagar so badly she ran off into the desert. An angel told her to return, which she did, and gave birth to a son who was called Ishmael.

Abraham and Sarah struggled on. But they’d virtually given up on having a son of their own. Even when an angel of God promised them again that they will have a son, Sarah laughed to herself: ‘An old woman like me? Get pregnant? With this old man of a husband?’ (Gen.18:12, as paraphrased by The Message)

Not a polite reaction to an angel’s promise, and not at all full of faith. But God’s promise was stronger than this couple’s failure of faith. Abraham and Sarah eventually had their son, and he was given the name Isaac. (Genesis 21)

Abraham – the father of the nation Israel – was undoubtedly a great man. But, perhaps like most great men, he was far from perfect. And he was not the only odd ancestor of Jesus.

2. Jacob

Here is another very significant person in the story of God’s people, the man who wrestled with God and was then renamed Israel. (Genesis 32: 27-28)

But Jacob’s earlier history is not good. (Genesis 25) The problems centred on the relationship between Jacob and his brother Esau. The two boys were twins. Esau was born first, so number one in line to his father Isaac.

In many ways these brothers were very different from each other:

  • Esau was an outdoorsman, rough skinned and covered in hair. Much loved by his father, Esau was the hunter-son who brought Isaac the venison he liked.
  • Jacob was domesticated, a smooth skinned man. He was also the favourite of his mother Rebekah.

Jacob, it seems, hated being second, and, as grown men, his resentment came to a head in two sad and bad actions.

First, Jacob took advantage of Esau to ‘steal’ his birthright from him. Because he was born first, Esau would inherit the whole ‘family estate’ when his father, Isaac, died. That was his birthright. Until, that is, Jacob went to work.

Here’s what happened (as told in Genesis 25:29-34). Jacob – the stay-at-home son – had cooked some stew. Esau, meanwhile, had been wandering the hills, likely hunting for game. He’d been away for some time, and arrived home famished. The smell of the stew hit his nostrils, and he begged Jacob for the food. Jacob shrugged and said something like, ‘I’ll give you stew if you give me your birthright’. Esau – not thinking straight – replied he was about to die from hunger so what good was the birthright to him. Jacob seized the moment. He made Esau swear an oath giving his birthright to Jacob in exchange for bread and lentil stew. It was all over in a moment. That done, Esau sat down and ate his meal.

There’s no doubt Esau was extremely thoughtless and foolish. He showed an impulsiveness which also got him into trouble on other occasions (such as marrying Canaanite wives, which was forbidden).

But Jacob is not guiltless. He did nothing illegal, but his actions were far from commendable. It was ridiculous to take his brother’s birthright in exchange for a bowl of stew. Who would think anyone would sell his inheritance for one plate of food? Jacob would. He could imagine that Esau would be weak-willed and reckless enough to do exactly that. So Jacob took advantage of Esau when he was vulnerable and got away with it, but his actions were utterly unworthy.

Second, Jacob deceived his dying father with help from his scheming mother. The years have rolled on and the twins’ father Isaac is now old and weak. (Genesis 27) He is blind, and recognises his sons only by touch and smell. The day he will die approaches, so Isaac decides the birthright must now be passed from father to son.

But to which son? It’s not clear that the deal done earlier between the twins is valid. It certainly isn’t recognised by Isaac because he is ready to bestow his blessing on his older son, Esau.

Isaac tells Esau to hunt game and prepare a tasty meal just the way he likes it, and then he will give him his blessing. That ‘blessing’ will be the formal moment of passing the inheritance.

Esau’s mother Rebekah overhears, and swiftly gives instructions to Jacob. He is to fetch two goats, bring them to her, and she’ll prepare a meal the way Isaac likes it. Jacob will serve the food, and he will get the blessing. Jacob points out the obvious, that if Isaac feels him his smooth skin will immediately reveal that he is not Esau. His mother has a solution to that. When the meal is ready, she dresses Jacob in Esau’s clothes and covers his hands and his neck with rough goatskins.

Jacob goes to Isaac and blatantly lies to his father: ‘I am Esau your firstborn. I have done as you told me. Please sit up and eat some of my game, so that you may give me your blessing.’ (Genesis 27:19)

Isaac isn’t so sure – how could Esau be back so quickly? Besides the voice sounds like Jacob, not Esau. But he feels his hands and they are rough. Again he asks if he is really Esau, and Jacob replies ‘I am’. (v.24)  There is one final check. Isaac insists on being kissed by his son, and when he is close he smells his clothes. They smell as Esau’s clothes. And so Jacob gets the blessing of his father, and therefore inherits everything including rulership over his older brother.

Of course the deception is known as soon as Esau returns, but it’s too late. The blessing Isaac has given Jacob cannot be withdrawn. And so the course of history is changed.

There are ways in which the outcome was good. Esau would have had many failings, and children with Canaanite wives would have spoiled the whole line of descent from Abraham. But does the end justify the means? Is blatant lying for self-gain ever right? That is what Jacob did. He achieved his position as an ancestor of Jesus by deceit.

3. Tamar  

Tamar’s story (Genesis 38) could be a script for a scandalous TV drama. The details are unpleasant but important. I won’t be more explicit than the Bible is! Here are the core facts:

  • Judah – Jacob’s son – selected Tamar to be the wife for his son Er.
  • Er was a bad man, and died before they had children.
  • Onan, Er’s brother, was then obliged by ancient custom to marry Tamar and have children with her to continue his brother’s line.
  • But Onan didn’t want responsibility for children who would not be his, so he never completed sexual intercourse with Tamar to make sure she did not become pregnant. That was wrong – it defeated the purpose of kinship marriage – so he came under God’s judgment and died.
  • Judah told Tamar to stay a widow until his next son, Shelah, grew up. She accepted that, returned to her father and lived as a widow waiting to be married to Shelah.
  • A long time passed, which included one event and one non-event. The event was the death of Judah’s wife. The non-event was the promised marriage of Tamar to Judah’s son Shelah. The boy was now a man – Tamar should have been given in marriage to him – but Judah did nothing, a great wrong by the customs of the time.
  • Tamar heard Judah was on his way to another town, so she disguised herself as a prostitute with her face covered and waited at the side of the road. Judah solicited her services, and had sex with her without knowing it was Tamar, his daughter-in-law.
  • Tamar was given a pledge of Judah’s seal, cord and staff as guarantee of later payment for her services. She then disappeared from that place, and Judah could not find the woman to make payment and get his seal and staff returned. He forgot all about her.
  • But Tamar was now pregnant. After three months that was reported to Judah – he was outraged and ordered that Tamar be burned to death. As she was being led out to die, Tamar sent Judah, her father-in-law, a message. ‘I am pregnant by the man who owns these… See if you recognise whose seal and cord and staff these are.’ (Genesis 38:25) 
  • Judah recognised them – they were his – he was the father of her child. And he admitted: ‘She is more righteous than I, since I wouldn’t give her to my son Shelah’. (v. 26) He had realised she’d trapped him into sex with her only because he had failed to give his last son to her as a husband. Tamar was pardoned because she was the wronged person; Judah was far more a sinner than she was.
  • A few months later Tamar had twins, the older called Perez and the younger Zerah. And Perez – the child of a sexual encounter with a ‘prostitute’, a father-in-law / daughter-in-law liaison – is listed as an ancestor of Jesus. (Matthew 1:3)

Tamar is a victim in this story, a victim of bad husbands and a faithless father-in-law. Her abandonment left her desperate. Her story is told to point out the strangeness of the circumstances that led to the birth of Perez, the ancestor of Jesus. There are times when out of terrible wrong God brings something good.

And that brings me to one closing point. Whether it’s because of personal failure or dreadful circumstances, we may think our lives are beyond God’s reach. Or that what we’ve done means we’re no longer of any use to God. These stories say otherwise. Through people like these and circumstances like these, God does his work. He’s not thwarted, not stopped, not diverted. He is always at work for good, no matter what.

For many people the poem ‘The Old Violin’ by Myra Brooks Welch[2] is a favourite. It’s a copyright item so I can’t reproduce it here, but one of many sites where you can read it is this one: https://www.onlythebible.com/Poems/the-Touch-of-the-Masters-Hand–Old-Violin.html.

Here’s its story. An old violin looked so battered and scarred it seemed worthless to the auctioneer. Sure enough opening bids were low. But then an old man came forward, picked up the violin, tuned it, and played the most beautiful music. When he laid it down, the auction restarted, but now the bids were in the thousands. Some asked what had changed the violin’s worth. And the answer was, ‘The Touch of the Master’s hand’. So the message of the poem is the touch of the Master’s hand transforms lives which are battered and scarred. They seem worthless. Then God takes hold of that life, and the value changes immeasurably.

May that give you hope.

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[1] People often puzzle that the genealogy of Jesus in Matthew 1:1-16 is not the same as in Luke 3:23-38. It is not one hundred per cent clear, but almost all scholars agree that Matthew gives the legal ancestry of Jesus, therefore traced back from his legal father, Joseph, while Luke gives us Jesus’ ancestry through his one biological parent, his mother Mary. Naturally they are not the same, though overlap with several people (most notably King David).

[2] At some point, Welch’s poor health could have ended her writing. But it didn’t. From Wikipedia: ‘Welch was disabled in a wheelchair from arthritis, which later caused her to not be able to play music, such as the organ which she used to play. Her hands were disabled, but she wrote poems on a typewriter by pressing the keys with pencil erasers, despite the pain that it caused.’

The importance of being thankful

Friends in America told us: ‘Thanksgiving is almost better than Christmas – we gather the family together, enjoy wonderful food and play games, but we don’t have to buy any presents’.

I’ll always prefer Christmas because it celebrates Christ’s birth, but during our years in the US Alison and I also enjoyed Thanksgiving. It happens on the fourth Thursday of November each year. Many will fly or make long car trips to be with family.

Since our family was 4000 miles away, friends Jim and Barb invited us to join them. Actually, not just them – all their family. Almost 40 sat down each year at joined-up tables to eat an enormous meal. The main dish was turkey (not usually eaten at Christmas). The family made sure to give thanks for the blessings they enjoyed.

We brought the tradition back to the UK with us. Towards the end of each November, we’ve gathered family who live near us, cooked a turkey, enjoyed eating and playing some games, all the time giving thanks for each other and much more.

But I know many people find it hard to be thankful. They might be completely alone, or out of work, or sick, or facing problems they can’t solve. Life for them is hard; they don’t feel thankful.

But it is possible to be thankful, even when life is tough.

Here’s a big statement that’ll affect everything I write in this blog: Thanksgiving is an attitude of mind, not of circumstances.

Now, I am not saying that circumstances don’t matter. Don’t tell the woman brutally sexually assaulted she should be thankful the attack happened. Or say it to the family whose child was killed by a stray bullet during a drug gangs shootout. Or to those whose home and all their belongings have been destroyed by a tornado, leaving them with nothing but the clothes they wore as they huddled in their basement. These are dreadful tragedies which leave a deep and lasting sense of hurt and loss.

Yet many of the most thankful people I’ve known had gone through very hard times. Some were still struggling. But they had found ways to develop a positive and grateful attitude to life. I first met Sandy when I was unwell and he visited me. He was in his late 60s, a man with a bright, cheery, encouraging personality. I felt so much better after his visit. Only later did I learn he’d recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Until his death Sandy remained grateful for all his life had meant. Pat was like that too. Every joint in her body ached. She could walk unaided across a room, but not the length of her street. She got by with a Zimmer frame – a walker – but eventually needed a wheel chair. Yet when I visited to lift her spirits she lifted my spirits. She was thankful for her home, for her family, for neighbours that helped out, and much more. Pat died when her heart finally gave out, but we never forgot a kind lady who lived life grateful for all she’d had.

And that’s what I mean when I say that thanksgiving is an attitude of mind, not of circumstances.

I believe at least four things make a grateful life possible.

Living without resentment

The Old Testament account of Joseph is one of the greatest examples of letting go of the past and living for the future. Among several sons of Jacob, Joseph was his father’s favourite. His brothers were jealous and planned to kill him, but, at the last moment, chose to make money by selling Joseph to slave-traders. They in turn sold him on in Egypt. He served his master well, but was falsely accused of sexual assault and thrown into jail. But Joseph could interpret dreams, which he did for the Pharaoh. His reward was not only to be released from jail but given the highest post in the land, second only to Pharaoh. Joseph’s wise management saved Egypt from starvation during a long famine. But, back  in Canaan, his family were starving, so his brothers travelled to Egypt to buy grain. They were brought before Joseph. They did not recognise him, and after testing their honesty Joseph gave them grain. Later the brothers came begging forgiveness for how they’d wronged him. From the first moment they came to Egypt, Joseph could have had them executed. After all, they’d almost killed him. Instead they sold him. He was made a slave, falsely accused and put in jail. They had caused Joseph great harm. But he’d been merciful, and now Joseph’s reply to his brothers is astounding: ‘You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good’ (Genesis 50:20). Their evil against him was in the past, and Joseph could see how God had put him in exactly the right place to be found by Pharaoh, made a ruler in Egypt, and save millions of lives.

Joseph was a man who refused to live in the past, forever angered by wrongs done to him. He let go his grievances, forgave his disloyal brothers, and gave thanks for what was good, for what he’d been able to do with his life.

The alternative – never-ending anger – would have put him back in a cell, this time a cell of resentment. Plenty live in that kind of prison today – they’re sad, bitter, discontented – trapped by what once happened to them. It’s a bad place to be.  

Resentment about the past drags us down. Thankfulness for the present lifts us up.

Noticing and valuing the good things

My colleague Bert was notorious for his pessimism. Everything could be going great, but he’d focus on ‘what just might go wrong’ even though there was no sign or likelihood that it would. As someone said: ‘For Bert, every silver lining has a cloud’.

I hear an equivalent to that from fellow golfers. Every time their ball gets a bad bounce and rolls into a bunker, they get angry and moan: ‘Did you see that? It’s not fair. I always get bad bounces.’

Bert was almost always wrong with his pessimism. And the complaining golfers are wrong that they always get bad bounces – they forget all the times their ball got a good bounce, such as glancing off a tree into the middle of the fairway.

It seems that we can’t forget bad events and can’t remember good events. If that’s how our minds are focused, we won’t have much about which to be thankful.

But we don’t have to let the negative dominate our minds. One of the keys to thankfulness is noticing and valuing good things. This week I heard an interview with a coronavirus patient in hospital who said: ‘You don’t value your health until you lose it’. That’s often true, but it doesn’t have to be like that. With a little thought, we can value our health while it’s good and be grateful for what that lets us do. Similarly we can value our families, or that we have enough money to live on. Or be grateful for our job, our friends, our homes, our safety, and so on.

As a child I was trained very firmly about how to cross a road: Stop – look right – look left – look right again – then, if nothing is coming in either direction, walk across, but don’t run! (Adjust that guidance if you live in a country where driving on the right is normal!) That was simple advice compared to today’s more sophisticated instructions.[1] But my mind absorbed that  ‘right / left / right’ formula. And it worked.[2] Our minds can be trained. So, like my crossing the road routine, we can create a default mode to stop / think of good things / be thankful.

It easy to drift towards negativity, but it’s not inevitable. We can discipline our minds to think of things for which to be thankful.

Accepting that life doesn’t always go in our favour

I often hear someone complain: ‘Life isn’t fair’. The honest (but not tactful) reply could be: ‘And who said life should be fair?’

Here are two things about the fairness of life.

First, we live in a broken world. God made it perfect but after very little time it was spoiled. Theologians might say we now live in a ‘fallen world’. So, if it’s broken or fallen, it’s not likely that only good things will flow our way. Bad things will happen too. Sometimes they won’t be our fault. Sometimes they will be. We make rash choices, and suffer hard-to-bear consequences. This world isn’t perfect nor are we perfect, so our lives will include ‘unfair’ things.

Second, isn’t it arrogant to think everything that happens to us should be good, pleasant, fair? If the whole world was perfect, what everyone experienced would be perfect. But no-one really believes everyone and everything is perfect. But then, why should we be excused hardship? Why should nothing unfair happen to us? And not to our family? The hard reality is that we don’t get a pass. Every person goes through good and bad times. Life is not always good for anyone.

Therefore, let’s avoid unrealistic expectations. Life will bring trouble as well as joy. Accept that. A starving man is grateful for a plate of food, and doesn’t quibble that it includes brussels sprouts (or cabbage, or broccoli…). He’s just grateful to have food. Likewise, let’s be grateful for the life we have, pleasant and not so pleasant.

Always believing good things still lie ahead

I’ve talked with many couples who were planning their weddings. Usually one of them would say, ‘We want our wedding day to be the most wonderful day of our lives’. If I knew them well, with a smile I might joke: ‘Really? So everything will be downhill after your wedding day?’

Now, I knew what they meant, and they knew that I was teasing them. No-one was offended. And we’d have a good chat about how to make marriage wonderful for the long-term.

The serious point for now is that for some people the best is past, perhaps long past. Nothing good lies ahead. Which means there’s also nothing for which to be thankful.

I prefer to think of my life like chapters in a book. So, were there wonderful things about my childhood? Yes, there were. In my next chapter, moving through the teens, were there wonderful things? Yes. And the years just after leaving home and starting work? Yes. And so on, thinking through all the major stages of my life, each one like a new chapter in a book. What I don’t do is compare the later chapters to the earlier chapters. I’m the same person, but most other things are different. They’re not comparable. So I don’t wonder whether this chapter is as easy or pleasant as chapters from decades ago. I only seek the good in the chapter I’m living now, and hope for equal or greater happiness in chapters yet to be written.

It works for me. I don’t wish I was back where I once was in life. I do enjoy the time I’m in now, and I have plenty to look forward to in the next chapter. All of which makes it easier to be thankful for all that’s around and ahead of me. Living gratefully is wonderful.

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[1] A great guide for crossing the road, written for parents with young children, can be found at this UK website: https://www.rospa.com/media/documents/road-safety/teaching-road-safety-a-guide-for-parents.pdf

[2] Except once! I panicked and forgot my training, with near disastrous consequences. See my blog ‘Lasting relationships are not lucky or unlucky’ posted on June 27, 2021. You’ll find it via the Archives list

Plundering the archives

We all have the experience that ‘life gets in the way’ of what we plan to do. Last week we had an unexpected need to transport a bed inside our car. (Yes, inside the car – and it’s not an especially big car but we got the bed in.) This week builders arrived to repair the fence between our house and the neighbour’s which, even though it’s not our fence, took time and imprisoned our dogs indoors. We were glad to move the bed to help out family, and we’re glad the fence has been fixed. Things like these come along, and they have to be fitted in.

All this is to say that right now I have one of my major study assignments to write, and it’s taken longer than I expected. So – with another major part of my life taking my time – I haven’t been able to create a blog article this week. My apologies, but the assignment really must have priority over the blog.

Instead, I’ve looked back over 2021 and identified a few of the archived blogs which I know have been read more often than most. (I don’t know who reads each blog, but I do know the number who read each one.)

There are six listed just below. One is fairly recent (The Tay Bridge disaster) and the rest from further back.

Of course there are 40+ in the archives, and you can pick out any of them for reading now.

Whether my selection or others, I hope you find something useful. And my sincere apologies for the delay in offering a fresh article. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.

Here’s the list:

How a motorcycle crash changed my life (but not in the way you think)  June 19, 2021

Blind to what’s obvious August 22, 2021

The Tay Bridge disaster October 31, 2021

How we caused a plague of frogs  June 12, 2021

Surviving Susie April 18, 2021

Being true to your word (and suspicious of your car nav system) June 6, 2021

To find any of these, just click on the ‘month’ links under Archived blogs and you’ll be in the right month to find the one you want.

You get to the same place by using a web link like this: https://occasionallywise.com/2021/06/ The numbers in the link are a date, so the link I’ve used as an example would take you to blogs in the month of June 2021. If you wanted to access April, change the ‘06’ to ‘04’, or to September by changing the ‘06’ to ‘09’, and so on.

The green-eyed monster

What is prohibited in the Ten Commandments, included among the acts of the flesh in the New Testament, listed as one of the seven deadly sins, and described by Shakespeare as the green-eyed monster? *

The answer is envy.

It’s hard to imagine there’s anyone who hasn’t been envious. You might think it’s especially a failing in affluent societies, a temptation of people in suburbia who ‘want to keep up with the Joneses’. Whatever others have, they want it too. But envy also happens in the poorest of places. Someone has a better tea pot, or bicycle, or job, or a rich relative who sends them money, and others want these things too.

It’s an understandable sin. We all want our lives to be better, so we envy those who have things or connections or abilities which would improve our lives, if only we had them too.

Sometimes we justify our envy. ‘It’s not fair they have these things,’ we reason. ‘Why shouldn’t I have them as well?’

I studied Human Resources as part of my management degree. One paper described how staff reacted when the work was demanding but the pay poor. Interestingly, their research showed that employees would work for low wages providing everyone doing that work had the same low wage. But if some were paid more, those on less were seriously discontent. They wanted parity. They wanted what others were getting.

On the whole, though, few try to justify envy. Down the ages envy, and its close cousin jealousy, is considered wrong.

I’m going to set out three ways in which envy is harmful. I’ll finish by adding three rather different thoughts.

First, how envy harms lives.

Envy is a cruel master

I spent a lot of time trying to help Gwyn and Julie. People would think they were a great couple with two wonderful children. But they had a secret. They were lost in a maze of unpayable debts. They owed money to the bank and on five different credit cards, and when they’d maxed out on their limits, they’d borrowed from short-term lenders at astronomical interest rates. That wasn’t all. They’d bought from several catalogue companies, the kind where you pay small sums every week but the overall cost of goods is high. And they owed significant sums for unpaid utility services and local taxes.

I sat with them for hours, tried to list every outstanding amount, and, just when I thought we were done, Julie or Gwyn would remember another debt. They were deeply submerged in a financial swamp. Debt collectors phoned constantly and banged on their front door at all hours.

The couple seemed unable to think straight so, on their behalf, I began contacting credit card providers, banks and catalogue companies. Most of them were amenable to working out payment arrangements. I introduced them to a friendly bank manager, and we considered consolidating all their debts and structuring a payment plan.

But, just before any of those remedial arrangements went into effect, I saw Gwyn and Julie’s children playing on brand-new bicycles. How could they have those new bikes? I caught up with their parents, and asked for an explanation. ‘All their friends seemed to have new bicycles, and we couldn’t let our children not have them too,’ Julie said. I asked how they found money to buy them. Sheepishly she said, ‘We got them from a catalogue company we’d never used before’. More debt. Soon after Gwynn and Julie were made bankrupt. I lost touch but I believe their marriage fell apart a year or two later.

There are three hard truths from Gwynn and Julie’s story. First, the fundamental problem behind most of their debt? They saw what others had and they had to have it too. Second, their envy was uncontrolled. It got them into debt, and then more debt. Third, despite outward appearances, and despite all they bought, Gwyn and Julie were miserable. So miserable, it ended their relationship.

Envy is a cruel and destructive master.

Envy is insatiable

Envy doesn’t have limits. It’s inexhaustible. We may think, ‘If only I have this, then I’ll be satisfied.’ But we’re not. We will always see something better than what we have already, and we’ll want that too.

One of my favourite podcasts is ‘No Stupid Questions’. A recent episode had the title: Why Do We Want What We Can’t Have? ** The presenters included the story of a stone cutter who constantly wanted something better for his life.

A stone cutter is passing the house of a wealthy merchant and sees his expensive and fancy possessions, and his important visitors, and he says to himself ‘Wow, that merchant must be so powerful. It must be amazing to be like that.’

The next day he wakes up as the merchant. So he’s happy for a while. Then he sees a high-ranking, important government official being carried in a sedan by his servants. And he thinks ‘Woah! How powerful that official must be.’

The next day he becomes the official, and this trend continues and the guy becomes the sun, he becomes a big storm cloud, and he becomes the wind. Then he finds that the one thing he can’t move when he’s the wind is a massive rock so he grows envious of the rock.

And next day he’s the rock. One day he hears the sound of a hammer hitting his surface and he thinks ‘Wait a minute! Wait a minute – what could be more powerful than me, the rock? And he looks down and sees a stone cutter…

That story says it all. Envy is never satisfied. There’s always one thing more, then another and another, an unending lust for things better than those we have already. In the end it get us nowhere.

Envy is no judge of what really matters

I arrived in the car park of the golf club, and began getting my gear out of the car. I was getting ready to play in a pairs match – my partner and I against two golfers from another club. My partner arrived in his Jaguar. Then the first of our opponents drove into the car park in his Porsche. Minutes later our second opponent came in his Audi S5. I hadn’t come in any of these elite models of car. I came in my Nissan. For a moment I wished I had one of their cars. I wouldn’t have been fussy. Any of them would be fine. But I caught myself quickly, realising ‘I already have a good car. It does everything I want a car to do.’ What matters with a car is that it gets you from A to B with reasonable comfort, safety and reliability. My car does that. The brand name is not what’s important.

Envy doesn’t think like that. Envy casts greedy eyes over anything supposedly better or more desirable than what you have already, and says ‘You should have that’.

Envy doesn’t think of affordability, or climate impact, or even suitability. It considers only things like prestige, speed, and impressing others. They are not the things that really matter.

I’ll finish with three rather different points about envy. The first will seem surprising.

  • Sometimes envy pushes people to do the right thing

Envy is a bad driver, but occasionally points us in a good direction. I’ll give an example.

While I worked in America, my car was a Subaru. I’d never owned a Subaru or any 4 x 4 car before, but it was the right car to have for the snow and ice of a Chicago winter. I deeply appreciated that car’s road-holding ability when the temperature was minus 18F. But what I most enjoyed was its reversing camera. Put the car into reverse, and a rear-facing camera showed an image on the dashboard of whatever was behind. I loved showing that to friends. Some said, ‘Wow! I wish I had that feature on my car.’ That was envy. But a good envy, because reversing cameras don’t just prevent you reversing into a wall, they stop you running over the toddler who’s invisible to wing mirrors but standing right behind the car. My friends’ envy meant they’d insist on a rear-view camera when they next bought a car, which might save a life.

In that instance envy served a good purpose.

  • Envy is not inevitable. It’s a choice

Envy feels like it’s a reaction. Your neighbour builds a wonderful extension on their house, or takes their family on the vacation of a lifetime, or gets promotion at their work, or inherits a million from an aunt they never visited. And you react with ‘I want that too’ or ‘I wish that would happen to me’. It’s an instinct, the thought that inevitably comes to mind.

But envy is not inevitable. It happens so quickly and easily it feels automatic. We’ve become used to it, as if coveting what our neighbour has is a preset feature of our humanity.

But it isn’t a preset. Envy is a choice.

Envy is a choice just as greed or lust or anger is a choice. If someone puts a plate of Danish pastries in front of me, must I eat one? Or two? Or three? If I see a beautiful woman, must I imagine having sex with her? If someone is rude and insulting, must I punch them on the nose? We’d say there’s no must about any of these. We might fail, but it was never inevitable we’d fail. Nor is it inevitable we’ll fail with envy.

The hard truth is this: envy is a choice. We are not helpless beings, pushed around by irresistible instincts. We can make decisions, including a decision not to envy what others have.

  • To beat envy, turn the other way

You’ll have heard or read this: Happiness is not having everything you want, but wanting what you have. (It’s a saying attributed to many writers.) It’s rather simplistic. But what it points to is powerful: contentment.

For a time the Apostle Paul was held prisoner in Rome. From his prison he wrote letters, including the one to the church in Philippi. Given his circumstances these words are remarkable:

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.  (Philippians 4:11-13)

Paul was beaten, thrown out of cities, deserted by friends, suffered poor health and, here, languished in prison. Yet, whatever his circumstances, he was content. But please notice that twice he says he has ‘learned’ to be content.

We’ve all learned things – how to use tools, how to speak a language, how to drive a car, how to grow plants, how to play chess, and many more. We didn’t know automatically how to do these things, but we learned. It took effort, time and commitment, but we got there.

The same is true with contentment. There aren’t ten easy steps to memorise and, suddenly, you’re now perfectly content. It’s choosing to be at peace with what you have, and choosing to resist the urge to chase what you don’t have. I’d never pretend that’s easy, but I know it’s possible.

And here’s an encouraging truth. If two things are in opposite directions, moving towards one takes you further from the other. Contentment and envy lie in opposite directions, so the more we walk towards contentment the further we are from envy. I can’t overcome envy by thinking constantly about things I envy, hoping that one day I’ll wake up not wanting those shiny new things others have. I overcome envy by focusing on the very many thing I have already that bring me contentment. I choose to be content, and let envy perish by neglect.

I urge you to do the same.

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*  The tenth of the Ten Commandments is: ‘You shall not covet your neighbour’s house. You shall not covet your neighbour’s wife, or his male or female servant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbour.’ (Exodus 20:17) 

The Apostle Paul, writing to the Galatians, says this: ‘The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like.’  (Galatians 5:19-21)

Thomas Aquinas – the 13th century Italian philosopher and theologian – is considered to have defined the standard list of the seven deadly sins: pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth.

Shakespeare used the term ‘green-eyed monster’ in Othello, Act 3, Scene 3:

“O beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.”

**  No Stupid Questions Ep. 68 https://freakonomics.com/podcast/nsq-envy/

Don’t kill the horse

‘God gave me a horse, and a gift to deliver. Alas, I have killed the horse and can no longer deliver the gift.’

I first read that quote many years ago, and I’ll explain the sad reason behind the statement.

The words are attributed to Robert Murray M’Cheyne, a presbyterian pastor in Dundee from 1836-1843.

M’Cheyne was born in Edinburgh in 1813 and enrolled at the city’s university when he was only 14. A few years later his Christian convictions came alive, and he began studying divinity. As he completed his theological study he wrote this: ‘Life is vanishing fast, make haste for eternity.’

That ‘make haste’ mindset controlled everything M’Cheyne did. Each moment had to be invested in profitable work. Soon he was minister of St Peter’s Church in Dundee. All around he saw people with ‘hardness of heart’ to the Christian gospel. He worked day and night for their lives to change.

After three years of constant work his health was affected. His heart was suffering ‘palpitations’ and quickly they got worse. His friends were concerned; his doctor advised complete rest. Reluctantly he agreed, and returned to the family home in Edinburgh. The following year he was persuaded to join a group of ministers assessing Christian work in Israel; M’Cheyne’s inclusion was partly because the climate would be good for his health. He was gone for six months. During the return journey he became dangerously ill and nearly died. But he recovered and, once stronger, returned to Dundee.

While M’Cheyne had been away, a ‘revival’ had broken out in Scotland including Dundee. When he returned to St Peter’s church, things were very different from when he left. The church was filled. People with a deep concern for ‘eternal realities’ cried out for God’s mercy.

He threw himself into his work with renewed passion. He met with anyone seeking God. He preached in St Peter’s, and in the open air, and at meetings across Scotland, and into England. No-one could have worked harder for his people.

In February 1843, he toured north west Scotland – an area with rugged countryside, high mountains, narrow passes, and almost everywhere exposed to the worst of weather coming off the Atlantic Ocean. M’Cheyne preached 27 times in 24 places, often struggling through heavy snow to his next engagement.

By the time he returned to Dundee he admitted he was desperately tired. But typhus fever had broken out across the city so he visited sick person after sick person, hardly taking rest. Of course he was not immune. His own burning fever began on March 12th, and after a week he became delirious and died on March 25th. M’Cheyne was engaged to be married, and aged just 29.

He died convinced that he’d given his all for God and God’s work, yet sensing that somehow he’d ‘killed the horse’ – his body – which God had given him to deliver the gift of the gospel.

The words spoken by M’Cheyne near to his death have helped me and frightened me. What’s frightened me is the warning that I could bring all I was meant to do with my life to a premature end. What’s helped me is the realisation that life is a marathon, not a sprint, and the goal is to finish, and to finish still strong.

Before explaining more, let me be clear here what I’m not talking about. People have accidents, or become victims, or develop illnesses. Everything is changed through no fault of their own. A soldier loses his legs when a roadside bomb explodes. A young health worker in Asia contracts a disease to which she has no resistance and dies. An aid worker in the Middle East is kidnapped, and though eventually released has ongoing struggles with fear and loss of confidence. A young mum contracts cancer and dies within two years, leaving behind a husband and two very young children.

These are tragedies. These are people whose lives were ended or damaged long before anyone would have expected. They never had the chance to fulfil the potential everyone believed they had. But they didn’t cause the events which happened to them.

Their circumstances are not what this blog is about. I am writing about things we do – things we control – that damage or shorten our futures.

Because these things are numerous and varied I can only give examples.

Sometimes the issue is personal management of our health. I wrote in a recent blog about back problems I’ve had throughout my adult life. (Will life always be this way?, 13.9.21) I asked the specialist I saw in America if my damaged back could be the result of a rugby accident when I was 15. (I was hit in my back by an opponent’s knee as he tackled me.) ‘No,’ he said. ‘The state of your back is not the result of an accident. You were likely born this way.’

So, no-one caused my back pain, but there has always been one person responsible for managing it. I’ve been good about that, but not as good as I should because most of the time I’ve been overweight. Carrying too much weight stresses knees and back. It was easy to find excuses. When you’re a minister you go to meetings at which the host puts out scones and cakes. As an executive leader you go to conferences where they feed you three cooked meals a day. At other times you meet with people in restaurants. While in America, I had days with meetings like that at breakfast, lunch and dinner. One breakfast meeting in a restaurant lasted so long my lunch guest arrived. That was convenient, but did serious damage to the waist line.

Weakness of will meant I often ate the wrong things. Even when I ate the right things, I ate too much. Now that I’m retired, and almost always eating at home, I choose healthy things. Sorry, I should tell the truth – Alison chooses the healthy things. And I’m very grateful she does, as I weigh a lot less now than I did.

That’s my confession – I’ve not always looked after my health. I suspect most people could make a similar confession, though not necessarily about weight. Perhaps smoking? Or drinking more than a little? Or not getting enough sleep? Or anything else that risks shortening our years.

Then there’s the issue of overwork which M’Cheyne likely got wrong. I’ve seen employment adverts which virtually spell out that they want an employee who’ll give 110 per cent, surrendering heart and soul to the company. These are invitations to abandon health, family life, friendships, recreation, for the greater profit of a business. That deal is never worth taking.

Yet many do sign up, and they go along with a culture which demands that you start early and finish late, that you don’t take most of your vacation time, and that you answer your phone or emails any time of night and day. Often the wages are good, but you pay a heavy price to get that income. Marriages break up. Children become strangers. Health breaks down. And nothing lives in your mind except work.

Work is good and honourable. But overwork kills the spirit and the body.

For some, career and much more is shortened by serious loss of reputation. It happens when someone fakes their curriculum vitae to get a top job. Or when they’re found to have given bribes to win a contract. Or they lied in court. Or they falsified accounts to make the business look more profitable. These things have significant legal consequences, but even if the legalities are escaped the actions are usually career-ending.

Sometimes the failure isn’t legal but moral. I worked beside a journalist who’d had an affair with the wife of a very prominent civic officer. The relationship ended when it became public. The wife’s marriage was damaged, and so was the journalist’s career because he had to move far away to find another job. Tragically, church ministers can fail morally in similar ways. The vast majority would be ashamed of their actions, but they were weak when they should have been strong. It’s not always ‘career’ ending – there can be restoration – but the damage done is never small.

There have always been addictions, and they have dreadful consequences. Addiction to alcohol is mostly obvious. The same can be true with drugs sold on street corners. But addictions to prescription medications are often secret. And often deadly.

This information on deaths from drug poisoning in England and Wales comes from the British government’s Office for National Statistics

Almost half of all drug poisonings continue to involve an opiate. For deaths registered in 2020, a total of 2,263 drug poisoning deaths involved opiates; this was 4.8% higher than in 2019 (2,160 deaths) and 48.2% higher than in 2010 (1,527 deaths). Opiates were involved in just under half (49.6%) of drug poisonings registered in 2020, increasing to 64.5% when we exclude deaths that had no drug type recorded on the death certificate.*

It shocks me that opiates cause almost half of drug deaths, and the number has grown by almost 50 per cent over ten years. Often few knew someone was addicted until they overdosed and died.

There are other kinds of addictions too, such as gambling and pornography. Increasingly, worries are expressed that computer gaming has become compulsive, and not just for children. Perhaps TV soap operas are also addictive. I knew someone who recorded two or three every evening, and sat up late watching them.

I find much to admire in the life of Robert Murray M’Cheyne. And I never learned how to limit my commitment to caring for people’s bodies and souls. The sacrifice always felt worth it.

But there’s also much to learn from M’Cheyne. His words about ‘killing the horse’ and so ‘can no longer deliver the gift’ are sobering. Would he have wanted to have lived and ministered for longer? I feel sure he would.

There is a challenge, then, in his words. We make choices, and what stops us fulfilling our potential will be a bad choice.

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* Extract taken from https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/birthsdeathsandmarriages/deaths/bulletins/deathsrelatedtodrugpoisoninginenglandandwales/2020

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