The Virtues of Wrestling with God, Genesis 32:22-31 (Trinity 9 Ordinary 18 Year A)

Genesis 32:22-31

The London International Invitational Wrestling event took place from 10-11 December 2011. Wrestling 166 on Flickr by Greg Cullen. CC 2.0.

I was sharing at Midhurst on Easter Day about how one of my ministerial student friends in Manchester invited me and others to go with him to watch bouts of professional wrestling. I never understood the fascination and never accepted his invitations.

Why? For me, wrestling was irredeemably camp, and that’s not me. I associated it with my grandmother watching the Saturday afternoon wrestling on World Of Sport with Dickie Davies from 4 pm every week. As she cheered and booed the likes of Mick McManus and Jackie Pallo, I couldn’t wait for it to end so that we could get the football results.

Wrestling was unwelcome for me, and the first thing I want to say about this story is that Jacob’s overnight wrestling with the mysterious man was also unwelcome.

Life is challenging enough for Jacob at this point in his life. He is heading for this first meeting with his brother Esau in years. Esau, you remember, is the twin whom he tricked out of his blessing from their father Isaac. How will Esau receive him? Will he want revenge? Jacob has already prepared to soften the blow by arranging for members of his family and household to go ahead of him, along with gifts for his brother.

The mysterious man in some way represents God, given that at the end Jacob says he has seen God and lived (verse 30). What we read about here is an unwelcome wrestling bout with God, whether that was directly with God or with his representative.  

It is not too much of a jump to recognise the seasons in our own lives when we find ourselves wrestling with God, and that the experience is equally unwelcome for us. We believe God is in charge of our lives, but events happen that we do not want. Ill health. A job loss. Estrangement from family members or friends. A death. We all too easily expect life to resemble a Hallmark greetings card or the cover of a box of chocolates, only for major incidents to throw us off course.

And when they do, it is not unusual for us to end up complaining to the God who has allowed these things. As Jacob might have wondered why he had to face Esau with no certainty of a good outcome, so do we remonstrate with God for our circumstances. Very few of us accept the undesirable circumstances placidly. We are wrestling with God, although it feels like God has come to wrestle with us.

We were never promised the easy life we long for. Jesus said, ‘In the world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.’ He would then go to the Cross.

A little girl once asked her mother, ‘Mummy, do all fairy stories end with the words, ‘And they lived happily ever after’?’

‘No,’ replied Mum, ‘Some end with, ‘When I became a Christian, all my troubles disappeared.’’

I wish it were different. But God has not opted for a way of working where he routinely presses a button and we fly away from danger in our ejector seat. Instead, he has chosen a path that takes us through unwelcome situations to lead us into greater depth, for our sake, for the sake of others, and even for his glory. That is, after all, what Jesus did through the Cross.

To that end, he has given us resources to help us. We have the Book of Job to read. We have those Psalms that we call ‘The Psalms of Lament’, in which the psalmists eloquently and passionately bring their pain to God. They give us permission to say exactly what we think. As the early church father Athanasius said, ‘Most of the Bible speaks to us, but the Psalms speak for us.’

When we find ourselves caught up in an unwelcome bout of wrestling with God, let us pray that he will do a deep work in us and through us as he accompanies us through this time we would have preferred not to have happened.

Secondly, wrestling with God teaches us trust.

Diverse people stacking hands together at PxHere. Public Domain.

That may sound unlikely at first: why would you grow in trust in this One with whom you have wrestled and complained? But listen to the text in verse 25:

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.

 When sunrise comes, Jacob will limp past Penuel (verse 31). This is Jacob, the fixer, the manipulator, the one who has sought to control his own destiny and the lives of others. Mister Independent now has a limp.

Will he now at last realise that he cannot be in total control of his lot? This is the time for Jacob truly to be a man of faith, rather than one who deceives in order to get his own way.

Faith is about both belief and trust. Believing certain things to be true about God, the world, and us. And trust in the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Jacob’s challenge here is to embrace the ‘trust’ part of faith. A man who limps is at a serious disadvantage as he prepares to meet the brother he so sorely wronged all those years earlier. He has already tried to butter up his brother by planning to send his family members, servants, and herds ahead of him – but what if they don’t impress Esau? What if all that is left is for him to face Esau with a limp? How can the man who even wrestled for hours with God’s own representative have a chance? There is nothing left but to trust.

And when we wrestle with. God over those unwelcome intruders into our lives, be they health, relationships, work, finance, of any other major aspect of our existence, there is nothing left but to trust in God.

It’s what the Apostle Paul did with his ‘thorn in the flesh’, whatever that was. It’s what Jesus did when the Father would not remove the cup of suffering from him.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t ask God to remove trials from our lives. After all, we shall pray in the Lord’s Prayer in a few minutes’ time, ‘Save us from the time of trial.’ But there are occasions where he does his deep work when we are in the furnace before deliverance comes.

I have spoken before about examples of this in my own life. The lung surgery I had in my twenties that gave me an experience of what it is like to go through major surgery. My encounters with depression. Playing my part in caring for my father through his Alzheimer’s Disease. I would happily never have had any of those experiences. But by letting me go through these, God has given me things whereby I can support people.

The mistake would have been to listen to the lies some Christians tell about these experiences. ‘If you haven’t been healed, then you don’t have enough faith.’ ‘If you suffer from depression, then you must have committed a sin.’ For to believe those lies stops us from trusting our Father in the darkness.

God invites us to trust him as we limp along after wrestling with him. He is the One who works all things together for good for those who love him. If we are struggling right now, let us take courage to trust him.

Thirdly and finally, wrestling with God leads to blessing.

A figurine of a man holding a child at Picryl. Public Domain.

This may be the opposite of what many Christians expect. We have just spoken about trust, and many of us have gained the idea that Christian trust is something simple and serene. Struggle doesn’t enter into it: that would be the opposite of trust. We ‘let go and let God.’

Now there are Christians who seem to have a gift for such trust. But many of us do not. And we are not necessarily inferior in God’s eyes because of that. Listen again to Jacob and his mystery divine assailant:

25 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. 26 Then he said, ‘Let me go, for the day is breaking.’ But Jacob said, ‘I will not let you go, unless you bless me.’ 27 So he said to him, ‘What is your name?’ And he said, ‘Jacob.’ 28 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.’

You might think Jacob’s request for a blessing is another example of him trying get something out of the other party at their expense. And we don’t know all his motives. But whether or not his motives are pure, the divine messenger does indeed bless him. He gives him a new name:

‘You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.’

What Jacob has done here is honoured with a blessing. God approves of his wrestling to the point of prevailing.

Yes! God invites the struggle, and ultimately, he blesses it.

If you are wrestling with God about something, I want to encourage you to continue to do so. Be persistent. Persevere. You will prevail if you do. And you will discover blessing, perhaps of a style or magnitude you never considered.

This may not only be to do with the areas of life we have already pondered where we wrestle with God over adverse circumstances in our lives. One area where it is important that Christians wrestle with God is in prayer, and especially in intercession.

There are examples in Scripture and church history of people who have done this. The prophet Daniel confessed and interceded on behalf of God’s people in respect to their sins that had led them to exile in Babylon. He was eventually granted remarkable visions of God’s will, not just for his own people, but for the nations.

In World War Two, a group of people at the Bible College of Wales gathered to pray against the advances of Hitler and the Axis forces. They believed that if they succeeded, the spread of the Gospel would be hindered. Day after day and night after night they prayed, led by a man called Rees Howells.

I have been in the company of people I would call ‘prayer warriors’, and to listen to them struggle with God over issues of social injustice and personal pain was like listening to women in labour. But they persisted, and God blessed their wrestling in prayer.

When we wrestle with God, let us resist the temptation to dismiss it as unwelcome and seek an easy life. Let us trust God even in the wrestling, and let us persist until his blessing comes.

I Can Hear Music: Are We Climbing Jacob’s Ladder? Genesis 28:10-22 (Trinity 7 Ordinary 16 Year A)

Genesis 28:10-22

I cannot sing to save my life. I cannot play an instrument (although I once made an abortive attempt to learn the guitar). But I love music. It soundtracks my life. I hear somebody say something, and I make an association with a song lyric. In the immortal stylings of the Beach Boys, I Can Hear Music.

And that was my experience coming back to this famous passage, three years since it last leapt out at me in the Lectionary. As I read the text, I thought less of theological terms and more of song titles.

I will freely concede that the author (or authors) of Genesis had no clue about the people who went through my mind: the aforesaid Beach Boys, Del Shannon, Bonnie Raitt, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, and Kate Bush for starters. But I am going to use some of their song titles to peg the teaching of this story for us.

Firstly, Jacob is On The Run:

If Pink Floyd are too weird for you, I’ll let you have Del Shannon’s Runaway

or my preferred version of that song by Bonnie Raitt:

Why has Jacob ‘left Beersheba and set out for Harran’ (verse 10)? Because he has tricked his elderly, frail father Isaac so that he can steal his twin brother Esau’s birthright. Now, his mother Rebekah, who has conspired with him against her own husband and other son, urges him not only to leave for his own safety but also because he needs to find a wife if the birthright promise is to be fulfilled through him.

Lies and deception in a family. What a mess.

And nor will Jacob be the only person to run from others or from God in the Scriptures. Adam and Eve have already tried hiding in Eden. Later, Jonah will try to escape a call of God that he doesn’t like by jumping on a ship going in the opposite direction.

But God loves runaways. Adam and Eve are unsuccessful in hiding. God uses a storm and a big fish to catch up with Jonah and redirect his life. And in this story, Jacob too cannot run from God.

God didn’t stop pursuing runaways with his love when the pages of Scripture were closed. He chased after an English professor who had had enough of ideas about God after he witnessed horrors in World War One. But later, he would grudgingly become what he called ‘the most reluctant convert in Christendom’. Looking back, he would actually say he was ‘surprised by joy.’ His name? Clive Staples Lewis.

This story reveals God’s care for runaways. He has not changed his character. I wonder whether this gives us heart for those we love who have caused us such sorrow by refusing to share in our faith. Are you like me, and have loved ones for whom you pray pretty much every day? Then take heart. God loves your runaways. Keep praying, and one day he will act to make himself known to them. He may even be preparing things behind the scenes now.

Or are any of us in some sense runaways? We may have faith, but like Jacob we may be running in fear because we know we have done something terrible. Or we may be running away like Jonah, because we fear the cost or consequences of saying yes to something challenging that we know God has spoken to us about.

Either way, the safest course of action is to give up running. God has grace and mercy for even the worst things we have done. And nowhere is their greater peace than in the centre of God’s will for us.

Secondly, Jacob Sees a Stairway to Heaven:

There is a popular misconception here, perhaps encapsulated in the old slave spiritual ‘We Are Climbing Jacob’s Ladder’:

We think we have to climb the ladder from earth to heaven. Runaways often think this. To atone for their wrongdoing, they must make the effort to attain the moral heights that they have so singularly failed to ascend.

But in Jacob’s dream, the ladder (or ramp) is placed on the earth, ‘and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it’ (verse 12). We don’t make our own way to heaven. God’s messengers check out what’s happening on earth and report to the Lord.

And it is the Lord himself who has set this ramp upon the earth to reach heaven. He reaffirms the covenant that he had first made with Jacob’s grandfather Abraham. Now the promise comes down the line. It still stands. God promises the same innumerable descendants who will bless the earth, and he promises to take care of this runaway (verses 13-15).

There’s a word for this. Grace.

This is not the popular idea of being good enough for God. It is not about keeping the rules as a way of gaining entrance to heaven. It is not about our good deeds outweighing our bad deeds, as our Muslim friends hope.

This story is an early sign of what is to come in all its fulness in the Gospel announced by Jesus and the apostles. We are all failures, whether or not we are runaways. But God has made a way back to him. The ultimate stairway to heaven will be the Cross of Christ. Grace and mercy pour out to us from the loving heart of God.

And sure, you’ve heard that thousands of times before. But it bears repeating. Even we who hear about grace every Sunday slip back into old ways of thinking and behaving from time to time. ‘I haven’t repented enough.’ ‘I haven’t lived as Jesus wants me to and I don’t deserve his love.’

Remember grace. It’s not so much a stairway to heaven as a stairway from heaven.

Sometimes we want to insert moral conditions to the receipt of God’s love, because we realise just how scandalous it is. If this grace is how God operates, then the logical consequence is that it is open to all, even to the worst of people.

Around the time of 9/11, I used to write a regular column in a local newspaper. That week, you can imagine I suddenly had to change what I had prepared. Whilst expressing horror at what the terrorists had done and saying they deserved the judgment of God, I also told the true story of Henry Gerecke, an American Lutheran minister who was appointed as the Protestant chaplain to the Nazi war criminals at the Nuremberg trials.

Gerecke had lost a son to the Nazis. He really didn’t want to be a chaplain to these monsters. But God would let him have no peace until he agreed.

And then, he set about sharing the Gospel with these evil men. Some resisted, right up until they were hung. But others wept, confessed, repented, and threw themselves on the mercy of God.

The newspaper didn’t include that part of my article.

And some of us would like to pretend that it didn’t happen. But the story is documented[1].

All of us depend on a stairway from heaven.

Thirdly and finally, was Jacob Running Up That Hill?

Now that might not seem an obvious choice of song until you remember how the chorus begins:

And if I only could
I’d make a deal with God
And I’d get him to swap our places

A deal with God. That was Kate Bush’s original title for the song, until EMI’s marketing department said that certain countries wouldn’t play it with a title like that.

So – did Jacob make a deal with God? It rather sounds like it at the end of the reading. ‘If God will be with me … if God will protect me … if God will provide for me … then he will be my God and I will give him a tenth of all I have’ (verses 20-22). If you do things for me, then I’ll do stuff for you. I have read the passage like that for years. I might even have preached on it that way.

But not anymore. It’s a vow (verse 20). And the scholar John Goldingay (whose commentary on Genesis I bought with your very kind Christmas present of a book token) says that Jacob is just beginning near the end of where God ended in the promises he made to him in the dream[2]. There might be a bit of contract language still present, and of course Jacob still has a lot to learn, but essentially the runaway has found grace at the foot of the stairway from heaven and now he makes a response of gratitude.

Forgiveness is not a cheap get-out-of-jail-free card. As the theologian Amy Orr-Ewing says in her recent book on forgiveness,

If the basis for divine forgiveness is repentance, it should follow that a perpetrator of crime – seeking divine forgiveness – is willing to pay the civil or criminal penalty for their crime.[3]

There is no deal with God, but there is the response of honesty and gratitude. As August Gottlieb Spangenburg, one of the Moravian bishops who influenced John Wesley put it in a hymn,

What shall we offer our good Lord,
poor nothings, for his boundless grace?
Fain would we his great name record
and worthily set forth his praise.
[4]

Jacob himself begins with the giving of a tithe. We can give, we can pay forward God’s grace to others, we can look for a place to serve in the church, we can consider how to bless others with God’s love in the world – it may be a cliché to say that the possibilities are endless, but it’s not far from the truth.

And don’t say, I can’t do anything very well, just do something out of gratitude to God. As the late Leonard Cohen said, ‘Forget your perfect offering.’

After all, Jacob will make some very imperfect offerings from hereon in. He, the deceiver, will suffer deceit at the hands of his uncle Laban. He will be in fear and trepidation when the time comes for reconciliation with his brother Esau. He will wrestle with God through the night and come out limping.

Let us simply acknowledge that we who have run away from God have found him build a stairway from heaven to us so that he can show us his grace. Now let’s simply get on with the gratitude.

And let God hear your music.


[1] Tim Townsend, Mission at Nuremberg: An American Army Chaplain and the Trial of the Nazis

[2] John Goldingay, Genesis (Baker Commentary on the Old Testament), p454.

[3] Amy Orr-Ewing, Forgiveness: Reclaiming its Power in a Culture of Outrage and Fear, p27 n7 on p179.

[4] Singing the Faith #671 verse 1.

Forming The People Of God (Church Anniversary Sermon) Genesis 28:10-22

Genesis 28:10-22

The other day our cat got trapped in Mark’s bedroom and weed on his duvet. Going up to the loft to find a spare duvet for him, I had to fight past a couple of blankets and several pillows. Thankfully, none of those pillows was a stone like Jacob uses in our reading (verse 11). Unlike him, I don’t think I would fall asleep easily on a stone pillow. Just how tired was he?

Now you may wonder why Jacob’s dream is a suitable reading for a church anniversary, and the answer comes in his naming of the place as Bethel (verse 19), for that means ‘house of God.’

Yet this is no house of God in the sense of a permanent building structure where God’s people gather to worship. Rather, it’s a site where God is at work in the formation of a people for his praise through the patriarchs.

And what we learn here about God’s formation of Israel applies in New Testament terms to his formation of the church.

Firstly, the people of God are formed by God’s initiative.

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. (Verse 13)

It’s God’s idea to form a people for himself. The people of Israel were not just another nation that emerged from ancient history, and the Christian church is not merely a human institution. God took the initiative. Why?

For the salvation of the world. God’s choice of Israel and his election of the church is not just a case of choosing people for their own salvation whereas he doesn’t choose others. No! He chooses and makes his people for a purpose: we are chosen so that we are a light to the nations. God chooses us so that we reflect his light in the world and that others might be attracted to the Light of the World, Jesus himself.

Now we are used to understanding that in an individual way. Each one of us is a witness to Christ. But we also need to understand it together as the fellowship of the Church. As the community of Christ we are called to be a light to the nations, beginning in our local area and spreading as far as we may be sent by God.

The Christian Church is not an accident. An individual congregation like this is not an accident, either. God made the first move to create this community and call it according to his purposes, of shining his light in the darkness.

So if we are here by God’s initiative, it’s an important question to ask how we are shining the light of Christ here and beyond our walls.

If we can identify how we are shining the light of Christ to the wider world, then we are at least in some respects fulfilling our purpose as a church. But if we realise we are not doing so, then we have some hard considerations. Either we must find ways, or we must close, because we’re only a pretend church.

Secondly, the people of God are formed by God’s promise.

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. (Verse 14)

There are things we need to do for the growth of God’s people to come. We cannot be passive. We must have intent if we are to grow. But before all that, the growth of the church is about God’s promise. He will make Israel ‘like the dust of the earth’, and Jesus famously promised that he would build his church. It all starts with God’s promise.

So are we seeing the growth of the church? Are people around the world hearing the Gospel through the Christian church? The answers to such questions are a very certain ‘yes’.

But what about us? So many of our churches are declining and aging drastically. Churches are closing all over the country. That doesn’t sound like God’s promise of a growing church, does it?

I think the fairest summary of the overall situation would be to say that in some places we are losing many of the battles against the spirit of darkness, but overall we are winning the war.

But even if that’s the case, we still have to grapple with our decline in contrast to God’s promise of growth. There are many reasons throughout history why churches decline and close. Sometimes, it’s because they are not sharing the Good News. Other times, it’s due to hostility in wider society against the Gospel. In some cases, it’s a bit of both. Or it could be something else, like being disunited so that we can’t demonstrate the love of God to the world.

If we are declining when God’s promise is for growth, we need an honest examination of why that is so. When we have identified why, we need to ask whether that reason can be reversed. If we are not sharing the Gospel, will we learn to do so? If we are disunited, will we be reconciled so that we can show God’s love to others? If we are in a hostile society, can we find ways of being a winsome witness to Christ despite that?

How we answer these questions help us decide what to do if – like many traditional churches in our culture – we are not seeing God’s promise of growth.

How will we respond in our churches?

Thirdly, the people of God are formed by God’s grace.

I could have begun with this point. But it’s also the theme behind the two other points about God’s initiative and God’s promise. The formation and development of God’s people is a matter of God’s grace.

After all, this is a story about Jacob. How come he’s travelling? He’s on the run after deceiving his twin brother Esau out of their father Isaac’s blessing. Esau wants blood. Jacob is hardly saintly.

Yet for all that, as the patriarch of the next generation, God is using him in his long term plans to form the people of God. Yes, this scheming, self-centred man! He’s not exactly the ideal material, is he?

However, when God intervenes in his life here via the dream at Bethel, Jacob responds with a vow that if God will provide for him and protect him, then the stone he lays will be the house of God and he will give a tenth of all he has back to God (verses 20-22).

In other words, grace transforms sinners.

One of my college lecturers said to me once, ‘Never forget that every church is a company of sinners.’ And when we look deeply at ourselves, isn’t that true? Like Jacob, we are unpromising material. We are not obviously saints in the making – at least not when left to our own devices.

But isn’t it also true that over the years we have seen God work changes in our lives as we have responded to all he has done for us in Jesus Christ? Has not the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus coaxed out a response from us to God’s grace?

No, we are not the finished article. We are not people who have got it all together. We are like broken pieces, glued together with gold, like the Japanese art of Kintsugi – and that’s what makes us beautiful.

For the world isn’t always attracted to the smooth operators who seem to have got it all together, whereas broken, fallible people like us who are utterly dependent on the grace of God are a more welcome proposition. We are more relatable.

So for all the challenges that this story is to us, ultimately it’s good news. As God’s initiative in forming the people of God calls us to be a light to the nations and as God’s promise of growth challenges us to face difficult questions if we’re not growing, in the final analysis it all comes down to grace.

And God’s grace is the most remarkable and wonderful thing, making beautiful creations out of broken people. While we believe that, and live out that truth, there is always hope.

A Second Conversion: Jacob’s Wrestling Match At Peniel

When I was growing up, my grandmother lived with us. The only time she watched anything that could loosely be called sport was on a Saturday afternoon at 4 pm. That was when ITV’s World Of Sport showed wrestling. Never mind the fact that the bouts were blatantly staged and fixed, Nanna (and Mum) used to enjoy shouting at Mick McManus and Jackie Pallo when they got up to their devious tricks.

Jacob’s wrestling bout with the mysterious stranger at Peniel in Genesis 32:22-32 is very different. This isn’t cheap entertainment. This is a new revelation of God to Jacob, every bit as significant as the encounter he had at Bethel with the dream of the staircase to heaven.

Here are my thoughts on the passage.

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