Still Wrestling
Romans 9:1-5
Genesis 32:22-31
This is one of my favorite passages of
Scripture. I chose to preach on this
passage my first Sunday here, July 1, 2012.
That’s why I’ve entitled the sermon, “Still Wrestling.”
I am still convinced that this passage holds the key
for how we can move forward as a congregation, and as families and individuals.
Here’s
part of that message two years ago:
I think most of us are here
because we acknowledge, on some level, that life is tough. Life is full of mystery and beauty, but also
full of hardship and struggle. And
there’s something in us that feels this pull or tug to close our hearts
down. But we’re here because we know
that our only hope is to keep ourselves open to God, and open to others around
us. We desperately need God, and
companions, if we’re going to survive this journey. And if we have any hope of not just surviving
it, but finding joy in it -- well, that will take a miracle.
My
experience here has been that we’re not just surviving – we’re sharing this
journey with joy. And that’s taken lots
of hard work, grit, and resilience from all of you. To fight through the tough times so that you
can enjoy the sense of having come through something. I see friendships emerging. I see laughter. I see people caring for one another and
praying for each other. I see people
stepping into positions of leadership and taking on roles of service. I see people learning to become more honest
and vulnerable.
I
like where we’re headed together. But
God is always inviting us to swim out a little deeper. So come with me for a few minutes to this
story of Jacob’s wrestling match.
In
the story we witness Jacob wrestling all night long with a stranger beside the
Jabbok River. To be literal about it,
what we read in the story is this: “So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled
with him until daybreak.”
Artwork
inspired by this scene often pictures Jacob wrestling with an angel. But the story is more ambiguous than
that. Jacob doesn’t know who or what
he’s wrestling.
But
let’s pause the story for just a minute. Jacob’s had a strange, hard life. And he’s been in exile, away from his land
and people for twenty years. And he’s on
his way back home. He’s on a return
journey, like many of us. He’s trying to
come back to the center of who he is.
He
was born grabbing the heel of his twin brother Esau, trying to get ahead.
And
as if being a twin isn’t hard enough, his parents chose favorites. Jacob, the younger twin, was a mama’s
boy. He was Rebekah’s favorite. But his father Isaac loved Esau more.
He
wound up alienated and hated by his own family.
Forced to flee to a land far to the northeast. And there he married two sisters who hated
one another and competed for Jacob’s attention every single day. He had to work on his father in law’s farm
for 20 years, with his father in law constantly cheating him out of his fair
wages.
His
life had spiralled down into a complete mess.
And so he decided that the only thing left to do was to take his two
wives, their two servants, and his eleven children, and head back toward the
land of his father Isaac.
The
problem with going home was that his brother Esau wanted to kill him. That’s why Jacob had to leave home in the
first place.
So
in our story, Jacob is headed back toward home.
But Esau was coming to kill him.
This is a pretty good description of what life often feels like for
us. Life is brimming with beautiful
possibilities. It’s also full of
dangerous threats to our well-being.
Yes, we know that God promises to bless us. But we also know that life is threatening,
that some circumstances are poisonous, and that our foot could slip at any
moment.
And
the story reads, “So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till
daybreak.” This experience for Jacob was
harrowing – this was sweaty, unending, exhausting wrestling. Near daybreak, we’re told, the man touched
Jacob’s hip and wrenched it out of socket.
Then he said to Jacob, “Let me go, for it is daybreak.”
And
here’s the line in the story that opens the doors in our own lives: Jacob
replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” This story is our script. And this is our line, our prayer: “I will not
let you go until you bless me.” It’s
feisty. It’s full of hutzpah. It’s what
faith looks like.
This
is Jacob’s breakthrough. This is his
shift into a different kind of life. Up
until now, he has assumed that God is far from the messy, complicated,
difficult and disappointing parts of his life.
But not now. During this
wrestling match he discovers that his lowest, most painful moments are moments
where God meets him and offers a blessing.
Jacob’s story shows us that our most difficult
struggles are the places where we will meet God. Those situations and circumstances that feel
most godforsaken for us are the places where we will meet something mysterious
and holy.
We want to encounter God during the day, in full
light, when everything is clear and bright.
But God will visit us during the night, when it is dark, when we can’t
see, when nothing is clear.
We need this story for a couple of reasons. We need it first because we often live with
the childish dream that life should be easy.
It’s not. And if nothing else, I
hope that you will part ways with that childish wish today. We need the story for a second reason. We need it because we often assume that
periods of struggle in our lives offer us exhaustion but nothing else, nothing
good.
One of the most interesting front edges of research
in education right now is about the importance of the ability to work
hard. The real story of a child’s
potential success in life is NOT, “Is s/he smart?” But instead, “Does s/he have grit and resilience?” Will she persevere when she encounters a
difficult problem? Will he get up and
fight again when he’s failed to understand something? We’re finding out that character issues are
more indicative of future success than just being smart.
The most important life trait for a child to succeed
in life is NOT talent or IQ. It’s the
determination to fight through challenges.
Kids who learn habits of sticktoitiveness experience joy in
learning. The same is true for adults
who want more love, more joy, more purpose and meaning in life.
You have a 43 year old pastor. That means that the stories you hear are the
stories of a 43 year old guy. I
experience faith as a 43 year old.
I’m about midway through life. I’m young enough to still play pretty good
tennis, but old enough to feel really sore the next day. I’m young enough to spend two days bent over,
painting my porch, but old enough to take a week to recover from that.
I’m old enough that I’ve been a pastor for over
twenty years, but young enough to think about what I want to accomplish with
the next 20 years. I’ve been married 20
years . . . no comment! (My wife just
flew back yesterday, and I’d like her to stick around).
I’ve got kids spanning ages from 7 to 14 – so I’m
past the physically exhausting years of babies but nowhere near being an empty
nester yet. All this just means that I’m
at a point in life where I’m shifting from the struggles of the first half of
life towards the struggles of the second half.
Both the first half of life and the second half are
characterized by struggle. Both require
effort. Both can wear you out.
If you’re in the first half of your life, your struggle
will feel like an adventure, seeking, searching, a journey towards
self-understanding and finding a place in the world, having a family, making a
career, finding a place to call home.
If you’re in the second half of your life, the
struggles are just as real, but they are different. Second half struggles are struggles to settle
in, forgive, let regrets go, get comfortable with a changing life, a changing
body, with events and relationships out of your control, conserving energy for
the things you really care about.
My point is that no one’s life is easy. No one experiences the blessings God gives to
us without also experiencing the wear and tear of life.
I think the reason this passage has been so powerful
and illuminating for me is that it marks a shift from childish, sentimental
piety into hard-won, hard-scrabble, adult sized faith.
Many people live their whole lives under the wing of
Mother Church, but never grow past childhood, and childish things. And no wonder, the naivete of childhood is wonderful! There is probably a time every single day
when I think to myself, “It sure would be easier to revert to childhood.” It’s psychologically comforting to remain a
child in matters of faith, secretly hoping that someone else will figure things
out and keep me safe.
The person who wrestles God for a blessing is a
person learning to name what it is they desire and to offer that desire to God
in prayer. What is it you want for
yourself? For your family? For your
congregation and community?
Some of you have already moved forward past
childhood into adulthood in terms of your faith. For those of you who already know what it
feels like to have to wrestle God for a blessing, today’s reading can reaffirm
you in the midst of the storm: this is the best way to live, this is the most
rewarding path, even though it’s difficult and painful. And I want you to steel your nerves. Don’t go back. You’ve fought through to get here. Don’t look back.
For those of you who still wake up every day
harboring the childish wish that life would be easier, today can mark a
significant shift in your journey. Today
can be the breakthrough day for you, the day when you graduate into something
new and different. Maybe today you can
walk forward by God’s grace into a real, honest, fight for your life.
It is terrifying to lay this childish life down and
leave it behind. Because when you tear
yourself away from these comforting illusions, you’re saying to God, “I’m going
to wrestle you until you bless me.”
And let us not forget who we are. We are God’s beloved people, gathered by
God’s Spirit into a new family organized around Jesus. In this family we come from a long line of
faithful wrestlers: Jesus
lived a hard life among the poor, and was rejected, betrayed, and crucified. The Apostle Paul was given a thorn in his
flesh to remind him that all his strength comes from God. And Jacob had to wrestle God for the blessing
of a second chance in life.
Welcome to the club.
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