July 31, 2005: Praying for What You've Already Been Given
Genesis 32:22-31; Psalm 17:1-7. 15
Eileen Parfrey,  Springwater Presbyterian Church.

 

This wrestling match was so unnecessary. Jacob has spent his life not taking seriously a promise God made to his mother before he was born. Here he is, preceded by four wives, 12 kids, and the flocks he tricked from his father-in-law, about to reunite with his twin brother for the first time since Esau had threatened to kill him. Like that old Smothers Brothers routine, mom had always loved Jacob best, but it was Dad's blessing that counted, and Jacob had outsmarted Esau to steal it from him.

You might know people who can't do a thing unless it's at least a little shady. Years ago I worked with a man whose construction business practices were always half a bubble out of plumb. The end product turned out OK, but you sure didn't know how, since everything felt so underhanded. He haggled material prices and finagled the labor budget. If he thought a line item didn't look good, he'd move costs to another line. You never knew how much anything really cost to build, and he lied about the schedule on principle. It wasn't for money. It was as if he was so used to being slick that he didn't know how not to be. Was Jacob that kind of man? Who couldn't do something unless he cheated for it? Who couldn't accept grace, because he thought he had to earn it?

Everyone says this is a story about persistent prayer. We find Jacob's tenacity in wrestling a stranger so admirable that maybe it's why we find ourselves begging when we pray, thinking if only we can hang on God will be forced to give in. I'm a little skeptical, frankly, about Jacob as a prayer model, since most of his prayers to this point were more like, "If you keep me safe and do good by me, I'll let you be my God." Why should we admire this crippled man for forcibly overcoming the divine resistance and successfully extracting what he wants from God?

There's one tiny detail in the story. The stranger jumps him. Jacob is not the aggressor. Why is there even a struggle? Why doesn't God just overwhelm him? I don't know personal combat, but I'm told that if someone tells you to put up your dukes you can either choose to wait for the first punch, try to get your own in first, or you can run. But if someone jumps you in a wrestling hold, you have to finish or cry uncle.

One of my friends had an older brother who, for 7 years, punched him every time they passed in the hall. It was difficult to avoid, but when my friend was 12, he took judo. After a couple of weeks, he'd made enough progress that when the instructor took him down and my friend cried "uncle," the instructor said, "There is no 'uncle' in judo" and taught him out how to get out. The next time his brother punched him, my friend took him to the floor and would not hear "uncle." His brother didn't punch him again.

Jacob will not say "uncle." Dawn is breaking and the other guy has to go. One tradition says Jacob's stranger is a demon. For anyone attempting to beat an addiction-smoking, drugs, the daily six pack, overeating-giving it up feels like wrestling a demon. Jacob's demon (maybe like ours) was the past. The shenanigans we've pulled, hurt we've done, grabs we've made for ourselves. Steps 4 through 7 of Twelve Step programs reflect an effective way of wrestling with our past: "Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. Admitted to God, to myself, and to another human being the exact nature of my wrongs. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. Made a list of all persons we had harmed and became willing to make amends to them all."

Maybe that's what Jacob was up to-working his steps-when he sent the wives and kids ahead to meet Esau. Since the stranger waited until Jacob was alone to jump him, it could be Jacob was literally stripping himself down for the encounter with Esau, putting aside those things that get in the way of soul-searching and truth-telling. Jacob is going back to face his past, reflecting the truth for many of us, that our struggles with God come out of our struggles with family.

If Jacob's opponent was God, perhaps it was God as advocate and not as adversary. But what an advocate! An advocate watching for openings to enhance the divine purpose in Jacob's life. As if Jacob has actually been running from God all his life, and not Esau, the brother who has such a hold on him. The stranger who jumps Jacob points to his life-long refusal to engage with God who longs for genuine encounter, a God who enters deeply into the struggle. Had Jacob refused to wrestle, he would have denied himself a God-given resource as he set out to meet Esau, to meet the deepest shame and disruption of his life. His advocate rehearses with Jacob the coming struggle with his brother, giving him resources of strength and blessing for what lies ahead.

If the story of Jacob wrestling with God is about praying for something, perhaps we ought to look less at Jacob and more at God. If we concentrate on Jacob, it's a story about our persistence, our faithfulness, our ability to "convince" God. But if we look at God, this is a prayer story that urges us to wait for God to clarify our understanding of "how" and "what" to pray for. If prayer is a matter of forcing our way past God's "resistance," a matter of reasoning it out with the Divine, then we ought to get ready for a fierce struggle. And we may as well face the inevitability of being struck in the hip and having to limp for the rest of our lives.

Jacob wrestled because he had no other choice. After a lifetime of shady dealings and trickery, Jacob trusted no one. Despite the warning, he asks the stranger's name, demands a blessing, and he hangs on. Medically, I understand that, if Jacob's disk was thrown, hanging on would be all he could do, otherwise he'd collapse. I found a picture of Jacob Epstein's sculpture of this story. Jacob is collapsed upright into the arms of the angel holding him up. He cannot let go. Jacob's opponent appears to admire him. He blesses him, after all, gives him a new name. But if the opponent is God, there is something terrible and wonderful about God holding back on Jacob's account. The Almighty could have blasted Jacob to kingdom come. God accommodates to Jacob.

The stranger leaves at dawn. If the stranger sticks around, Jacob might see his face, and how does one see the face of God and live? So he names the place "Peniel." The song at the end of the musical, Les Miz, says that to love another person is to see the face of God. Jacob leaves Peniel-the face of God-to be reconciled to his brother. It's a tearful reunion. Jacob tells Esau that to see his face is to see the face of God. He limps, but now he can see his brother's face. He is finally able to take God's promise seriously enough. He has missed a lifetime of companionship with his brother and communion with his God, has paid with his hip for what he'd been given from the very beginning, but he is given what he was promised. And no more.

We've got a lot in common with our faith ancestor Jacob. Just because it's natural and human to think we've got to convince God to bless us. Just because it's natural and human to think we've got to do things "the old-fashioned way" (like on the TV commercial), that we've got to "earn" our blessings. Just because it's natural and human to be competitive, to want to be the first or the most or the best. Just because it's natural and human to be afraid that if others get theirs there won't be enough for us. Just because it's natural and human, doesn't mean it's what God wishes. Or that God won't bless us. God does not wish to overwhelm us, but God is not willing to let us go our own way either. Rest assured, there's nothing you can do to make God to love you. Since before you were born, God promised. You are already loved, God's own beloved, your name written in the heart of God.