Preached by Michael Cheuk
August 3, 2008, Twelfth Sunday After Pentecost, Year A
Genesis 32:22-31
When my kids were younger, they would often ask me to wrestle with them, especially Wesley. It’s a game where the kids would get on top of me and try to pin down every part of my body-my arms, my legs, my fingers and toes and even my head-to the carpet. And to make the wrestling match more interesting, while they grappled with my arms trying to pin them down as I laid on the carpet, I would stick my left leg straight up in the air accompanied by the sound effect: “boing!” That would get their attention, and so they would scramble to my raised leg, and as they pushed it down, my left arm would go up in the air-boing! Wes would then hold on to both my legs as Thea made her way to my raised arm to wrestle it down. As she did that, I would lift both my legs and Wesley up into the air-boing! Both kids would squeal with laughter as they went around and around trying to pin down my body. As soon as they got both arms and legs pinned down, one of my fingers would lift up-boing! As soon as they got that, my big toe would lift up-boing!-and then my head-boing! Pretty soon though, I’d get totally exhausted, and when they had every part of my body pinned down, Wesley would reach out with his palm and tap my nose as if it were a hotel concierge bell-ding, ding!-thereby signaling that I lost the wrestling match. The kids would go away happy for having won the match, and I would limp to the medicine cabinet for my tube of Ben Gay.
Well, this morning’s Old Testament lesson from Genesis recounts another wrestling match, a smackdown seemingly straight out of World Wrestling Entertainment. On one corner of the ring was Jacob, a “heel” if there ever was one. Jacob’s name in Hebrew means “heel holder” because he was born holding on to the heel of his older twin brother Esau.[1] The name “Jacob” also means “supplanter,” one who usurps the place of another, especially through intrigue or underhanded tactics. For most of his life, Jacob was a “Heel,” like wrestling villains Ric Flair, Chris Jericho or “Edge” in pro wrestling, whose tactics matched the behavior of a “heel” as defined by fellow wrestler Jesse Ventura: “Win if you can, lose if you must, but always cheat.”[2]
Throughout most of his life, Jacob was a cheater who connived and tricked others in order to get what he wanted. At a relatively young age, he conned his older brother Esau into giving up his birthright for a bowl of red stew. In those days, a birthright was a blessing bestowed upon the oldest son. It was a big deal because it meant that the person who received the birthright received a double portion of the father’s assets upon his death, and inherited the position of leadership within the family. From our modern perspective, that just doesn’t seem fair, and I suppose it isn’t, since it wasn’t Jacob’s fault that he was born mere seconds after Esau. But that was just the way it was in those days. Now, it certainly didn’t help matters that Isaac the father showed favoritism and loved Esau more than Jacob, because Esau was a manly hunter while Jacob was more of a mama’s boy helping his mother out in the kitchen.
So one day, Esau came back from the fields starving. He found Jacob simmering a big pot of lentil stew, and he stammered: “Let me gulp down some of this red red stuff, for I am famished.” (That’s the literal translation in the Hebrew.)[3] Jacob was happy to oblige, but on one condition: that Esau sell him his birthright. To Esau, an inheritance in the far distant future wasn’t going to do him any good if he were to die of starvation today. So he agreed and he solemnly swore and sold his birthright to Jacob. Now, you might say that anyone who can’t tell the difference in value between a birthright and a bowl of stew deserved to be scammed. Fair enough. But the point is that even at a young age, Jacob was conniving to receive his father’s double blessing and to supplant his older brother as the head of the family.
Now, it is one thing to wrestle a birthright from a dimwitted brother, but it is another thing to wrestle the actual blessing out of a dim-sighted father. One day, an old and dying Isaac instructed Esau to go hunting and fix his favorite meal so that afterwards, he could give the final blessing to Esau. While Esau was away, Jacob, following the instructions of his mother Rachel, carried out a plan to trick Isaac into thinking that Jacob was Esau by wearing skins of animals and the clothes of Esau. Now, covered with hairy animal skins and smelling like Esau, Jacob served his father his favorite meal, and cheated Esau out of his blessing. When Esau found out, he was furious, for once the blessing was given, it could not be revoked and given to someone else. In his anger, Esau vowed to kill his younger brother, and Jacob, afraid for his life, fled to live with his uncle Laban in Haran.
Jacob was a heel all right, but if you walked in Jacob’s shoes for a while, you might better understand what motivated him. I imagine it must be hard to know that you’re not your father’s favorite son, that you’ll never measure up to his expectations, that you’ll never receive his full blessing. That knowledge might motivate you to do all sorts of underhanded things to supplant your siblings, to prove your worth, to grasp at ways to make your dad love you and be proud of you. Sure, you might even wrestle a blessing out of your father, but who knows if that blessing was sincere? Who knows if a blessing received through trickery is a blessing received truly? And what good is a blessing when it estranges you from the ones you love and creates enmity among your siblings?
I also imagine that not feeling blessed also makes it harder for a person to trust others, perhaps even God. It’s interesting that during Jacob’s journey to his uncle Laban, the Bible tells a story in Genesis 28, of a night Jacob spent sleeping on a rock and dreaming of a stairway to heaven. In that dream, God promised to Jacob the same blessing that God made to Abraham many years before: “I am the LORD, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”[4] While Jacob was no doubt awed by the dream, it is enlightening to hear the vow that Jacob made in response, “If God will be with me and will watch over me on this journey I am taking and will give me food to eat and clothes to wear so that I return safely to my father’s house, then the LORD will be my God.” It seems that Jacob was not satisfied solely with God’s promise; he wanted to make a conditional deal with God. According to literary critic Robert Alter, “God has already promised Jacob in the dream that He will do all these things for him. Jacob however, remains the suspicious bargainer-a “wrestler” with words and conditions just as he is a physical wrestler, a heel-grabber. He carefully stipulated the conditions of sale (of the birthright) to the famished Esau . . . now he wants to be sure God will fulfill His side of the bargain before he commits himself to God’s service.”[5] Imagine that, trying to pin God down on God’s own promises!
I don’t know about you, but it’s not hard for me to imagine trying to pin God down on God’s own promises. I remember as a young child praying that if God would be with me and help me pass my test, then I would read my Bible more. As a young adult, I prayed that if God would give me enough money to live by, then I would answer the call to ministry. Throughout my life, I’ve made all sorts of conditional deals with God, even despite the promises God has made to me. So no, it’s not hard to imagine trying to pin God down on God’s own promises.
As for Jacob, God upheld his end of the deal. God watched over Jacob and gave him enough not only to survive but thrive. Sure, he found in his uncle Laban a scoundrel and a cheat equal to himself. But despite being tricked by Laban’s bridal switcheroo which cost Jacob seven more years of working for Laban, at the end of the day, Jacob was successful by all accounts. Jacob married both of Laban’s daughters, had eleven children with them, and later Jacob fleeced Laban of a vast portion of his flock. God had blessed Jacob, and on the outside, Jacob had the look of a winner, a person who made something out of himself through his own ingenuity and hard work.
But there was one final thing that had not yet come to pass. Jacob had not yet safely returned to his father’s house to reunite with his brother Esau. So now, in this story, Jacob and his whole entourage were about to cross the Jabbock River and into his homeland. He sent his family and all his possessions on ahead and he spends a night by himself. It’s probably like us going to a family reunion and taking a deep breath to brace ourselves before entering our parents’ house. And on this dark night, on the cusp of a family reunion, on the verge of seeing his long-estranged brother, Jacob faced the wrestling match of his life, one that would redefine his identity forever.
So, on one corner of the ring was Jacob, a “heel” if there ever was one. On the other corner, was . . . a man. We really don’t know the identity of Jacob’s opponent. Some, like Hosea, think the man was an angel.[6] Others say it was God himself.[7] Still others say it might be Jacob’s own conscience.[8] But as far as we know, the identity of this wrestler was masked from Jacob and from us. These two wrestled the whole night and neither one could gain an advantage until the mysterious adversary cheated and gently touched the socket of Jacob’s hip, which instantly fell out of joint. From what I understand, the hip is the wrestler’s pivot point, the source of his strength. Even so, Jacob would not release his hold, and when the dawn was about to break, the masked wrestler finally asked to be let go. But Jacob wouldn’t do it, except on one condition: “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” Here we see a deep hunger in Jacob to be blessed, to be affirmed as valuable and worthy, even though on the outside, Jacob was both rich and successful. But Jacob needed a source of worth that material wealth, societal status, and even familial love could not provide. This sense of worth could not be achieved through conniving and cheating, nor could it be grasped through legitimate, human effort and ingenuity. It was a blessing that could only be received by grace, when Jacob’s core strength was incapacitated, when he could no longer rely on his own human power. It was a blessing that was given not on Jacob’s own terms, but through a life-transforming encounter.
“What is your name?” asked the man. “Jacob” was the reply. “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome.” Before the blessing was given, something even more radical took place. Jacob’s very name was changed so that he was no longer just a “heel” or a “supplanter,” but now, he is identified as “Israel,” one who struggles and strives with God. This change in identity will not make Jacob’s life easier or safer or even more successful. In fact, for the rest of his life, Jacob will walk with a limp, a physical mark of his ongoing spiritual struggle. It is a struggle that he cannot control, no matter how much supplanting, grasping, conniving and cheating he might be tempted to do. For when Jacob in turn asks for the name of his adversary, he is answered by a question: “Why do you ask my name?” In that culture, being able to name someone and to know someone’s name gives the “namer” control and power over that person. But this nameless adversary cannot be controlled and Jacob has no power over him. And it is precisely at this point that Jacob receives his blessing. What exactly that blessing is, the Bible doesn’t say. It just says, “Then he blessed him there.” But perhaps that’s precisely the point. For when your core identity is changed so that you no longer have to rely on your own power and strength, and yet you can still strive with God, then anything that is given to you can be a true blessing. For what is most important about the blessing is not what God can give you, but who God is and God’s presence with you. After receiving the blessing, it finally dawned on Jacob that while wrestling with this masked opponent, he was in fact striving face to face with God. In this wrestling match of epic proportions, the wrestler named the “Heel” claimed to have seen the “Face” of God and still live to tell about it. And having been inwardly transformed by this experience, Jacob/Israel is now free to return home to do the outward work of reconciliation with his brother Esau.
I think many of us can see our stories in Jacob’s story. We too have been wrestling for a blessing all our lives. We hunger for a blessing from our parents, our siblings, our children, those who are important to us. And sometimes, out of that deep need, we will connive, cheat, manipulate and supplant others in order to receive that blessing. And it doesn’t matter if we look successful and fulfilled on the outside, on the inside we are hurting and we are hollow. We are separated and estranged from people who are important to us, because we have hurt them and they have hurt us. And in the dark of the night, we wrestle with those issues many times unnamed and unidentified. But God is there in that struggle. God is there in your wrestling. But perhaps you won’t be able to receive the blessing you desperately need until God incapacitates you at the center of your human power. Perhaps you won’t be able to receive the blessing that you desperately need until God renames you and remolds your identity in Him. Go ahead and strive with God, for God can take a fight. The Good News is that not only can we, like Jacob, strive with God, but we also have in Jesus Christ some One who strives with God for us. Someone who, at the Garden of Gethsemane, knows what it feels like to go through a dark night of the soul. Someone who, at his trial, was cheated out of a fair hearing and was sentenced to death. Someone who, at the cross, experienced what it means to be utterly defeated and forsaken. But also someone who, at the dawn of a new day, walked out of a tomb scars and all as the fulfillment of God’s promise of reconciliation for the whole world. And so, even as you struggle for a blessing, you are not alone. And may God in Christ bless you in whatever way you need as the dark night begins to pass and the morning begins to dawn. Amen.
[1] Genesis 25:26.
[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heel_%28professional_wrestling%29
[3] Translation by Robert Alter, The Five Books of Moses, p. 131.
[4] Genesis 28:13-15. Compare that with God’s promise to Abraham in Genesis 13:14-17.
[5] Robert Alter, p. 150-1.
[6] Hosea 12:3-4.
[7] For a sampling of the various ways that ancients have identified this man, see James L. Kugel, The Bible As It Was, p. 224-226.
[8] Edward Markquart, http://www.sermonsfromseattle.com/series_c_wrestling_with_god.htm.
