Wrestling with God
“...the other answered, ‘You shall no longer be called Jacob’ (which means heel grabber) ‘but you shall be called Israel, the one who wrestled with God, for you have striven with God and with mortals and you have prevailed.’” — Genesis 32:28.
This is a poem.
I thought life would be easy—
I wonder why.
Perhaps I got that notion
from my mother
for whom life did seem easy,
not from my father,
who was strong,
gentle and tried to teach me
about the wisdom of the sky
from whence life
often sears the soul and tries.
I know now that life is not easy
and as I lay prostrate
on the ground.
I can hear the other one— the sound
of heavy breathing,
and my own,
as I moan in pain and
we grapple neath the moonlit sky.
I thought life would be easy—
I wonder why.
Things change but the sky does not
and it is hard to see
where I needed to go
for no one gave me anything—
a map, a plan, a route to take.
So I had to make
and rake and break
and do whatever I had to do
to see me through.
And You! You!
You are here beside me
and I know not why.
Are You the sky?
What if I surrender, give up, stop?
Will that matter?
Will You offer a blessing?
Will that matter?
And what does it matter
that the sky goes on and on—
the stars glisten above our heads until dawn,
and then the stars are... gone?
(Pause.) The reading from Genesis is the famous story of Jacob wrestling. ‘Wrestling with Whom?’ is the key question. Does Jacob wrestle with angels? Does Jacob wrestle with a person? Does Jacob wrestle with self inflicted demons? Does Jacob wrestle with the human race— all humanity? Does Jacob wrestle with God? (Slight pause.)
It says in the reading (quote): “...you shall be called Israel, the one who wrestled with God, for you have striven with God and with mortals and you have prevailed.” To be clear: the very word Israel means one who has wrestled with God. And, to be clear, the deeper meaning of the word ‘wrestled’ is one who deals with and who struggles with the reality which is God and the reality who is God.
These words also indicated an even more expansive meaning than someone who has only wrestled with God. It plainly says Jacob wrestles with “God and mortals.”
The piece of the story not read today, the content of the narrative both before and after this scene concerns the relationship of Jacob and the brother of Jacob, Esau from whom Jacob has been estranged. And, indeed, Jacob has led both a successful and a contentious life.
So, Jacob gets by because of wrestling both with family and with everyone else. And while I don’t want to place emphasis on the combative aspect of the word ‘wrestling’ it is clear Jacob comes away from the struggle changed by the engagement, changed by life, itself. Jacob is injured, traumatized by life.
And who among us has not been traumatized by life in some way? At some point each of us has had to wrestle. Each of us has had a heavy heart because of something.
We all wonder what the future holds. We all have had failures and times which inflict feelings of being unworthy. It’s likely each of us has faced the death of a loved one— a parent, a spouse or even a child.
Some of us have experienced the anxiety of being socially marginalized. Some may be perplexed, even angry because obstacles are constantly put in our way. And we ask in each of these circumstances: “Does God care?” (Slight pause.)
I think if there is anything this story says, it says that God does care. It says that God engages with us in life.
Hence, rumor to the contrary, God is not Santa Claus. God is not some ‘Fix-it’ person. Rather, God stands in solidarity with us, is present to us.
And, perhaps that is the hard part about us wrestling with God. Perhaps we want Santa Claus, not God. But a God who is really God is not a fantasy.
And life which is really life is not a fantasy. Real life consists of ups and downs, joys and concerns, struggles and silliness. (Slight pause.)
Every day, our denomination sends out a daily reflection by e-mail. You can sign up for them, if you like.
Lillian Daniel writes some of them. She is the Senior Pastor of First Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, in Glen Ellyn, Illinois, a large suburban church in the Chicago area. This was yesterday’s reflection written by her. (Slight pause.)
“On Tuesday nights, a group gathers in our church lobby to knit prayer shawls, baby blankets and booties for the members of our congregation. The knitting ministry meets the same night as our church council.”
“So while we are in the conference room making what might [euphemistically] be called big picture decisions about the life of the church, just a few feet away on the couches in the lobby other people are knitting for the sick, the new babies or those in need of any kind of healing. I think it’s a nice combination of ministry on Tuesday nights, like a check and balance system for what leadership in the church is all about.”
“I still have the prayer shawl I received from my current church when I was sick, and I still have the prayer shawl I received from my former church when my mother passed away. I went on to inherit the prayer shawl her church made for her when she first fell ill. They all lie around my house as extra blankets in the family room, ordinary objects infused with prayer in the midst of our ordinary lives.”
“The prayer shawl didn’t cure my mother’s fatal illness. But there is no question in my mind that it was a conduit of healing. It remains a symbol to me of how all our churches are knit together by the Holy Spirit.”
“New babies receive a hand-made gift to keep them warm, blessed by prayer before it is given away. It’s a symbol of a beautiful Biblical metaphor that goes back many thousands of years.”
“It seems that people have been knitting for one another forever, perhaps ever since God, the original knitter, knit each one of us together in our mother’s womb. So indeed, we are wonderfully made.” — Lillian Daniel on knitting, on meetings and on life. (Slight pause.)
This is a poem.
I thought life would be easy—
I wonder why.
Perhaps I got that notion
from my mother
for whom life did seem easy,
not from my father,
who was strong,
gentle and tried to teach me
about the wisdom of the sky
from whence life
often sears the soul and tries.
I know now that life is not easy
and as I lay prostrate
on the ground.
I can hear the other one— the sound
of heavy breathing,
and my own,
as I moan in pain and
we grapple neath the moonlit sky.
I thought life would be easy—
I wonder why.
Things change but the sky does not
and it is hard to see
where I needed to go
for no one gave me anything—
a map, a plan, a route to take.
So I had to make
and rake and break
and do whatever I had to do
to see me through.
And You! You!
You are here beside me
and I know not why.
Are you the sky?
What if I surrender, give up, stop?
Will that matter?
Will You offer a blessing?
Will that matter?
And what does it matter
that the sky goes on and on—
the stars glisten above our heads until dawn,
and then the stars are... gone?
Amen.
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York
ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Theologian Walter Bruggemann has said this about the God found in Scripture: ‘The image of God painted is a God of intentional artistic illusiveness’— intentional artistic illusiveness. God is real, but like anyone else we know, any friend, God cannot be fully explained. God can be experienced.”
BENEDICTION: Let us never fear to seek the truth God reveals. Let us live as a resurrection people. Let us understand every day as a new adventure in faith as the Creator draws us into community. So, go now, go in safety— for you cannot go where God is not. Go now— go in love— for love alone endures. Go now— go with purpose and God will honor your dedication. And last, go in peace— for it is a gift from God to those whose hearts and minds are in Christ, Jesus. Amen.
[1] As indicated, this is from the Still Speaking Devotional series sent out daily. Full disclosure: I did add one word to Lillian’s piece. That word is euphemistically.
[2] This poem was composed for this sermon by the Pastor. Its title is Jacob’s Lament.
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