Faith Struggle

The same night he got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children, and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had. Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket; and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” So he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” Then the man said, “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.” Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.” The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.  Genesis 32:22-31 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you, from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Jacob. He is, once again, central to our story as he has been for the past 3 weeks. He will remain in the story line for the next two weeks. 

Jacob. Wrestling with Esau in the womb. Tricking Esau out of both blessing and birthright. Sent away by Rebekah, his mother, for just a “few days.” Hoping that Esau would calm down and forget the murderous threats he had made against his youngest brother.

Jacob. Tricked by Laban, his uncle, into marrying Leah, who was not his first choice. Or any choice at all for that matter. Now, he is husband of two wives, sisters. Leah and Rachel. The “few days” have turned into over 20 years and Jacob, who arrived penniless on Laban’s doorstep, is now the father of a full household that is composed of his 2 wives, 2 maids (part of his wives’ wedding dowry), and 11 children.

It is time now for Jacob to return home, as his relationship with Laban, his father-in-law, is getting more and more difficult. Jacob packs up his now substantial household, his livestock, and all of his possessions, and leaves Mesopotamia for Canaan. The ancestral land of his grandfather, Abraham. The land of his father, Isaac. 

As Jacob sets out, he sends messengers ahead to Esau. To let Esau know that he is returning home. And to ask Esau to be kind. The messengers return with the news that Esau is coming to meet Jacob and his household. With four hundred men.

This is terrifying news to Jacob. He fears that Esau is coming to kill him. That after all these years, Esau has yet to forgive him for his treachery. Jacob turns to God in prayer. And unlike his previous prayer, this time, Jacob puts no conditions on God. He simply asks God to preserve him. We begin to get a glimpse, however brief, that the years have humbled Jacob. That, no longer is he wrestling and struggling to grasp that which is not supposed to be his. Or so it appears.

After his prayer, Jacob puts in place a plan to try to preserve his household from an attack by Esau. He sends his servants and livestock forward to act as a buffer and to protect Jacob and his family. Once this large group sets out, Jacob and the rest of his household continue to move forward.  

It is here where our story today picks up. As it opens, Jacob and his family have reached the Jabbok River, where they set up camp. In the middle of the night, Jacob decides to rouse everyone to cross the Jabbok, assisting them along the way. It’s not entirely clear in our story why he does this. Perhaps it was at night that the river was easier to cross. Perhaps Jacob was concerned about being seen. Or, perhaps, Jacob simply was not sleeping well himself, anxious over his upcoming meeting with Esau.

Whatever the reason, he helped his entire family cross the river in the middle of the night. As they settled in on the other side, Jacob settles in for the rest of the night, apart from the rest of his family. 

It is here that our story takes a strange turn. As Jacob was making camp apart from everyone else, our story says that “a man wrestled with him until daybreak.” Was it a dream? Was he struggling metaphorically with his fear? Or with his brother? Was it an angel? Or God?

The text never tells us. It’s a little uncomfortable, isn’t it? Not knowing? It makes me uncomfortable! And, so, I...we begin to speculate. Just like those across the centuries. 

Who was this mysterious man?

Unfortunately, our speculation doesn’t give us concrete answers. Nowhere in the story is the man identified. Perhaps, then, the identify of this man is not the point of the story. Perhaps we need to search elsewhere to understand the message of today’s story. 

The struggle left a mark on Jacob. Something that he carried away from the place. A torn muscle. 

We also learn that Jacob was not the one who gave up the fight. The man did. Jacob was tenacious. And at daybreak, as the sun was rising, it was Jacob who won the fight simply because he refused to let go.

Isn’t life like that sometimes? Things happen to us that aren’t easily understood or figured out. We survive by nothing more than simply not giving up.

I remember a conversation with a dear friend of mine. She had been raised in a family that had deep roots in a fundamental church. She’d been active throughout her childhood and youth in this church, attending summer camps and eventually become a camp counselor. A young leader in this church. She was deeply embedded in her family and in her faith community. And, then, she made a decision to “come out.” To announce to those whom she loved that she was gay. That she could no longer fight this truth in herself. That she had to be honest and public about who she was.

The response from her family and her church? Well, everyone walked away from her. She was shunned and asked to stay away from her family home, her family church, and from everything that she knew and loved.

It was devastating. 

In our conversation she asked me how to get through it. As I reflected on my own life and the many losses I had experienced, I told her that sometimes all you can do is to keep going. To not give up. And, if nothing else, to simply put one foot in front of the other and continue to move forward. 

Most of us have had times in our lives where we, too, fight with the mysteries and the hardships of life. We don’t know if Jacob’s injury was permanent, but the text notes he was still limping when he left. We, like Jacob, carry the injuries of our struggles with the mysteries. Every loss, every health challenge, every relationship struggle, every death of someone we love--all of these leave their mark. We walk with an invisible limp. Like Jacob, sometimes all we can do is simply hang on. 

Jacob was alone that night as he struggled. Our struggles are often like that, too, aren’t they? We can share our burdens and fears with each other, but eventually each of us must come to terms with life and with the mystery of God. A God with such deep desire to be in relationship with us that God sacrificed God’s own Son. For us. That we might have life. And have it abundantly.

As the sun rose that morning, the strange man gave Jacob a new name. Israel, meaning “you have struggled with God and with humans and have prevailed.” We often think only of Israel as a noun, a name of a place or of a people. It is much, much more. It describes not only Jacob, but all of us. We are to grab onto the mystery of God and hang on, even when we are tired. Or in pain. Or have doubts. We must fight for the relationship we share with God. Sometimes that means a confrontation with God. Anger at God. Telling God that we don’t understand how or why the world works. And, in such honesty, struggling to hold on in the times when the world is mysterious, or God’s methods or God’s kingdom just don’t make sense. 

It takes work. And it takes perseverance. And this is the nature of faith. It isn’t simply a gift from God. It is a lifelong pursuit of God for us and us for God. In the midst of this pursuit, we experience grief and heartbreak. And they leave a mark on us. 

And yet, we must be like Jacob. To refuse to let go of God until we are blessed with new understanding and an insight that transform us. Once again.

God never gives up on us. It is our job to never give up on God. 

Jacob was far from perfect, but he was faithful. In our story today, he is a model for us. No, not of moral perfection. But as the one who wrestled in the night and did not surrender. His new name “Israel” is a lesson for us that is fully worth learning.

Amen.


Preached August 6, 2017, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
8th Sunday after Pentecost.
Readings: Genesis 32:22-31; Psalm 17:1-7, 15; Romans 9:1-5; Matthew 14:13-21.
**With ideas and guidance from the commentary by Beth L. Tanner, Professor of Old Testament, New Brunswick Theological Seminary, New Brunswick, NJ, on workingpreacher.org.