Old Testament: Genesis 32:22-31
A lifelong guilty pleasure of mine has been the enjoyment of professional wrestling. Long before technology progressed to the point where we could watch wrestling matches and shows whenever and wherever we want, the moments when I found a show on television were special. Moments when I’d be flipping through the channels and run across a regional wrestling program. Moments when we’d be at school gathered around the one person who’d convinced their parents to fork over the money for a pay-per-view event, listening to them describe the big matches in great detail.
This enjoyment has continued well into adulthood. In seminary it was the bonding point for me and two of my classmates. We watched recordings of old matches in the common room of their dorm; after graduation we’d meet up in Nashville and Huntsville to attend live shows; and for a brief stretch we even had our own podcast (billed as the only wrestling podcast hosted by three Episcopal priests). For those who love it, wrestling is great fun. For the athletes, it’s more serious and rigorous, and while storylines are scripted there’s nothing scripted or fake about the physical toll exacted on their bodies.
From scripted professional wrestling we now go back more than two millennia to the Book of Genesis and a surprising, unscripted yet still physically demanding moment in the life of one of the Patriarchs. From the moment of his birth to the scene in today’s reading, Jacob’s life was marked by moments of wrestling.
As we see in the birth narrative in chapter 25 for instance, he grabbed hold of his twin brother Esau’s heel, wrestling to get into the world sooner. Then in chapter 27, he deceived his father Isaac and by disguising himself as Esau to gain his father’s blessing, wrestling – through duplicitous means – for something that wasn’t his. In chapter 29 he physically wrestled with a large stone covering a well, moving it so that the flocks of his soon-to-be father-in-law Laban could be watered.
(Let me take a sidestep to say that the text reads that Jacob rolled the stone away. Think of that: a stone being rolled away so that the sheep could receive water to sustain their lives. It’s a powerful image, and there’s certainly a comparison to keep in mind: another morning centuries later when a stone was rolled away so that new life could be given. But that’s for another discussion.)
And now as Jacob’s journey continues, he arrives at a shallow ford along the Jabbok, a 50-mile-long river flowing through deep canyons and entering the Jordan River north of the Dead Sea. More important than the location however is the moment. Now, Jacob will spend a long night engaged in literal wrestling against an unknown opponent.
The identity of the stranger isn’t revealed in the text. Some ancient traditions thought it was a demon, or some form of Canaanite divine presence called a numen. A portion of Jewish Midrash – a sizeable and ever-growing collection of rabbinic sermons and interpretation of scripture – says it might have been a guardian spirit of Esau, the twin brother whose blessing he had stolen and who was now coming along with a small army to meet him. Perhaps it was the physical embodiment of Jacob’s internal struggle, wrestling with the burdens of what he carried within himself.
Certainly artists have had their own interpretations, with many – including Gustave Doré, who painted the image on the front of your bulletin – seeing the scene in the same way as the writer of the Book of Hosea[1], a moment when Jacob wrestled with an angel. I don’t doubt the debates among Biblical scholars will continue for generations to come. For today though we’ll go with Jacob’s own words: “I have seen God face to face.” Because of that he names the place Peniel – the face of El … the face of God.
Consider as well that both the location and time of day when the encounter ends are reflective of Jacob’s own personality. In his commentary on Genesis the scholar Victor Hamilton writes that dawn is the part of the day that is half-light and half-darkness, while the location at the Jabbok is a crossover area that is both holy and unholy. Similarly, Jacob carries within himself traits of both sacred and profane.[2] Jacob’s inner struggles were made manifest in the physical struggle of wrestling, and they became the physical location that was the launching point for the next stage of his journey.
Then we have the blessing given to Jacob. He had grabbed hold of this stranger and refused to let go, even after receiving a physical wound that he carried for the rest of his life as a sign of this encounter. Throughout the narrative of his life in Genesis we’ve seen that Jacob will do whatever’s necessary in any given moment: seize onto his brother; lie to his father; and now grapple with God. In this wrestling match though Jacob is rewarded with far more than a blessing. He receives a new identity. This flawed, troubled, duplicitous man is no longer simply Jacob. In the words of Robert Alter, Israel doesn’t replace his name but becomes a synonym for it.[3]
So what are we to take from this scene? First, I think we need to remember that we are Jacob. We may not necessarily have lied to get something we wanted. We may not necessarily have done what he did in grabbing the heel of his twin to keep up, finding our own way to grab onto someone so we’re not left behind. But like Jacob, we’re flawed. Even with the holy spark of God within us we struggle with those moments when we may not think or act as God would like – those moments of darkness within us that crossover with the light of dawn. We can look to Jacob as a reminder that while we’re not perfect, God still engages with us – whether we recognize it’s God or not.
Next, Jacob reminds us that it’s alright to wrestle with God. While not specifically stated as such, this contest in Genesis was an exercise of faith. I’d wager Jacob had an idea early on about what he wanted, and by not giving up in this contest – by having some level of faith in the outcome – he knew he would achieve it. The same can be true for us: in moments when it’s called for, or needed, or feels appropriate, wrestle and engage with God. In a clergy conversation I listened to a few days ago, I was reminded that when the situation demands it, we shouldn’t let go. Faith isn’t just passively submitting to God; it’s grappling, contending, tenacious, and persistent. Regardless of the struggle, grab hold of God and don’t let go.[4]
Finally, this scene with Jacob reminds us that blessings are coming. Our encounters with God may be at unexpected moments. Like Jacob’s hip there may be something within us that feels out of joint or off kilter, something that physically or emotionally prevents us from moving forward. But if we try to live in, with, and through faith, blessings will come. As with prayer, what we receive may not be that for which we ask – and as with prayer, the answer we get will be what God deems appropriate. Dawn will break, and as God did with Jacob when he wouldn’t yield, God will bless us.
There’s a wonderful hymn written in 1742 by Charles Wesley entitled “Come, O Thou Traveler unknown.” Through its 14 verses (and yes, there are 14 verses, although I’ve only heard four of them performed) we sing of Jacob’s nighttime encounter at the Jabbok ford. As you continue to ponder this reading – as you continue to wrestle with the challenges in your lives and perhaps even wrestle with God – I leave you with verses one and ten:
Come, O thou traveler unknown,
Whom still I hold, but cannot see!
My company before is gone,
And I am left alone with thee;
With thee all night I mean to stay
And wrestle till the break of day.
My pray’r hath power with God; the grace
Unspeakable I now receive,
Through faith I see thee face to face;
I see thee face to face and live!
In vain I have not wept and strove;
Thy nature and thy name is love.[5]
Amen.
[1] Hosea 12:4.
[2] Victor P. Hamilton. The Book of Genesis: Chapters 18-50, p. 332.
[3] Robert Alter. “Genesis,” fn. 29. The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary – The Five Books of Moses, p. 122.
[4] Sermon Brainwave podcast, episode 1046.
[5] Charles Wesley, “Come, O Thou Traveler Unknown.” Hymnary.org, https://hymnary.org/text/come_o_thou_traveller_unknown.