Copyright © 1998 by Stephen S. Bilynskyj
It leapt on him out of the dark. One moment he was walking thoughtfully up the bank of the river. The next moment he felt arms around his neck and a weight on his back that brought him crashing to the ground. Twisting and straining he turned to face this mysterious enemy, but in the dark he could not see the face of the one who had attacked him. He found himself locked in a life and death struggle with strength that seemed to exactly match his own.
Jacob wrestled all night in a stalemate match. One moment his opponent would almost have him pinned, then Jacob would exert all his power and gain a brief advantage. Yet he could never press that advantage far enough. He could break free of any killing hold, but he could never get a solid hold on his assailant. He wrestled there in a dark night which he thought would never end.
If it were I wrestling there in the darkness, I would imagine my opponent to be a demented human being, a dangerous pathological criminal who had escaped from his confinement. The adrenaline coursing through my system would be charged by my fear of what my insane attacker might do to me.
Jacob, though, would have thought of a demon. He had just crossed the Jabbok River twice, sending his family and possessions safely to the other side. In that time, rivers were believed to be the abode of evil spirits. In the night and all alone, it would be natural for him to assume that he was in the grip of some spiritual force of darkness.
Either of us, Jacob or I, would have been wrong about who it was we were fighting with. He would have interpreted his struggle in ancient terms, and I would try to understand it in terms that make sense today. Either way, the understanding would be incorrect. And I believe that part of what we can learn now from this old, old story is that we are more often than we think wrong about what or who it is with which we are struggling in our lives.
It was no demon. Jacob was wrestling with an angel. He was wrestling with God. You and I have been given Jacob’s story so that we may discern those times when we also are on the mat with Master of the Universe. We know very well what it feels like to grapple with ordinary, human problems like work and health and family. We are much less likely to recognize what is happening when we cannot get a firm grip on our opponent. We do not easily see when it is the Almighty God whom we are trying to pin down.
A man sits across from me in a dimly lit restaurant booth. When we entered he deliberately asked the waitress for us to be seated away from anyone else dining there. He wants no one else to hear what he has to say to me. As I fiddle nervously with the menu, he begins to unfold the story of a struggle. He has recently learned something about himself which has torn him apart. He is in the grip of a force over which he feels he has no control. He is thinking of leaving his wife and children. "What should I do?" he asks me.
I learned there at that table how we can so easily mistake what or who it is we are fighting. The man opposite me talked as if all his trouble centered on this new thing in his life. What was he going to do about it? How could he get a hold on it? Would it ever let go its hold on him? There in the dark he wrestled with what he thought was the problem. Yet in reality, I see now, he was struggling with God’s grip on his life. His real opponent was not inside him. It was not it at all. He was actually wrestling with the Lord.
This weird little story of Jacob’s wrestling match happens in the middle of what he must have thought was the real struggle of his life. He has sent his family and possessions on across the river in a journey that is going to lead him into a confrontation. He is about to face Esau, his twin brother whom he had defrauded of his inheritance through deception and trickery. Jacob is about to meet the man who he feels must hate him more than anyone else on earth. You can be sure that he thought that this was his real problem. He thought he was wrestling with fear and shame. Could he cross this river and stand before his brother? Or would he do what he had done before and simply run away?
So on the bank of the river which got its name from the match – the Jabbok, the "Wrestling River" – God came to trade holds with Jacob and teach him what it really means to wrestle. The true opponent of Jacob was not Esau, nor was it some demon arising out of dark water. Jacob’s struggle was with the Lord.
However, Jacob’s contest with the angel of God was not just a metaphor. We must not think that he was actually alone there that night, struggling in his own soul in some sort of merely spiritual battle. It did not happen in a dream. It was not merely a man by himself tossing and turning in a sleepless night brought on by indecision. Jacob really and truly found himself locked in battle with another person. He felt hands trying to grasp and pin his wrists. His back was pushed into the ground by the weight of another body. He struggled for position against strong legs that were trying to wrap around him. God was really there, battling with Jacob.
Therefore, you and I must not imagine that we are alone in our own struggles. Wrestling with God is not just a metaphor for making up our own minds or facing our own fears. In the really difficult, pivotal moments of life, we are not left to our own devices. We are down on the mat with God.
Does that make it any better, though? When life is at its worst, does it really help to believe that we are not just dealing with a crummy job or an unfaithful spouse or a crippling illness or a rebellious child? Is it really any comfort to think that, behind the trial we can see, God Himself is reaching out with unseen hands to grab and pin us down? Doesn’t that thought only make it worse?
It all depends on what you believe is God’s purpose for the match and what it means to win. For Jacob to discover God’s purpose he had to win and then lose and then realize that in losing he had truly won. You see the angel of the Lord’s presence who wrestled with him was one of those infuriating opponents who only toys with you. It was like playing a game with someone who merely matches you point for point nearly to the end, creating the illusion of an even match. Then as the end draws near he tires of the whole charade and rapidly drives in a half dozen shots in a row, or lays down all the cards he was holding back, or bursts out ahead of you on the track. You never really had a chance.
That is how it felt to Jacob. All night it seemed like he was holding his own. The man could not overpower him with sheer physical strength. Yet all the time something was held in reserve, something that in verse 25 is demonstrated in the slightest touch. The angel of the Lord was a master of martial arts. Strength did not matter. The flick of a finger wrenches Jacob’s leg from its socket.
All our wrestling with the Lord needs to come to the particular point when we recognize and admit that in any contest with Him we will certainly lose. We cannot argue or rationalize or beg ourselves out of what God wants from us. We cannot slip the hold of His will with excuses. He will always overpower our efforts.
Yet once we admit that there is no escape from the grip of God, a new possibility arises. Just as Jacob did, we can grip God with a new and better purpose. Instead of trying to pin God down to be and do what we want, we can take hold of Him and wait for the blessing He has all along been wanting to give us.
When Jacob’s leg was ruined he had lost the match. The angel said in verse 26, "Let me go." It could have been over then. Jacob could have pictured that same deadly touch on his thigh reaching out to his arm, to his back, even to the dislocation of his neck. The safe move would have been to release this frightening creature and get away while he could still walk.
However, in the power that conquered him, Jacob sensed another possibility. One so strong that He can win so easily is someone who may also be able to help him. In the force of the touch that hurt him, Jacob felt an energy that could also heal him. And so instead of letting go and giving up, he held on even more fiercely, saying, "I will not let you go unless you bless me."
All God’s struggle with us, as deeply painful as it may feel, is the playful wrestling of a Father who wants nothing more and nothing less than to bless His child. It is like you rolling on the floor with a toddler before bedtime. It is a magnificent contest with all the appearances of an even match. You tickle him, he tickles you. You trap him as he crawls between your legs and he holds you down by sitting on your stomach. You grab his ankle as he pretends to crawl away, then he wraps his arms around as you try your own getaway. It is all beautiful silliness and giggles and good feeling – until that moment when you quit pretending he can really hold you down. You shake lose his grip, sit up, and say, "O.K., mister, now it’s time for bed."
At that moment reality floods back in on the little one. He really is no match for you. He cannot actually overpower your will for him. Any moment you will pick him up and carry him off to bed and he will not be able to stop you. At that moment he has two choices, and unfortunately both toddlers and adults too often choose the worse one. Which is to keep on trying to play the game, to begin struggling in earnest, resisting what you want for him, fighting against his own tired body to defy you.
But the other choice is what you are hoping for. Your desire is that with the announcement of bedtime that little person will wrap his arms around you in a hug, let you wrap your arms around him, and let himself be carried off to a blessed and peaceful night’s sleep worn out by loving play. That is what you meant all along. Of course your wrestling match is no real contest. It is the prelude to the blessing of being tucked in and read to and prayed with and dreaming quiet dreams of peace, confident of being loved. You only want to bless and show love to your little opponent.
God only wanted to bless Jacob. This was to be a turning point when the trickster would begin to let go of all his deception and trickery. He would find a stronger foundation for his life than his own wits and strength. In the experience of being blessed, Jacob could start building his life on the one true source of blessing, rather than on his own cunning.
The choice for Jacob was to continue the struggle or seek the blessing. He could keep on fighting with his leg out of joint, against all odds, matched with an impossible opponent. He would be like that ridiculous knight in "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," losing first his leg, then an arm and then another leg, yet continuing to challenge his opponent, never wanting to admit he had been defeated. He could have kept on striving for victory. But Jacob chose instead to strive for the blessing. He submitted to God’s power. He let go of the struggle and simply held on to be blessed. And that is what God had wanted all along.
Jacob’s blessing began with a new name. It is a name that puts God into his life. Before he was Jacob, the "one who grasps the heel," referring to the hold he had on his brother even at birth, and later to his trickery. Now he would be called Israel, which means "one who struggles with God." The struggles are not over, but Jacob would know his opponent, and he would know that God’s intent was not to harm, but to bless him.
Even with his new name bestowed, Jacob could not resist one last attempt at a hold on his opponent. In verse 29 of our text, he asks for the name of the angel of God. In the ancient world, knowing a name was power. It could give you an advantage over an opponent to know his name. If Jacob could know the divine name, he might win the match after all. But the angel gently brushes him off. God’s name will remain a mystery for awhile longer. The blessing is what Jacob will be given. It is what God wants to give.
Blessing is what God wants to give you. It may feel as though you are in a fight for your life. Circumstances and relationships have strangleholds upon your soul. You are gasping for air and looking for the first opportunity to break free of the struggle and leave it behind. Yet it is in reality your opportunity to meet the Lord in a new way and to discover that He is ready to bless you when you stop striving and seek the blessing.
That is why I want to say that it is absolutely wrong to think that finding yourself in a struggle, in a spiritual wrestling match, must mean there is something defective with your faith. Quite the opposite. Wrestling with God is part of faith. It is the prelude to moving forward into a deeper, closer relationship to Him.
Israel became Jacob’s name, but it also became the name of the nation descended from him. All of God’s people were named as those "who struggle with God." Christians, the New Testament tells us, are the spiritual descendants of Israel. We, no less than they, will find ourselves in contests with God, matching our wills with His, fighting all sorts of battles that are really God’s battle to bless us. All God’s people are called to the sport of wrestling.
You and I have a great advantage over ancient Israel, though. Jacob battled in the dark against a God he could not see or name. We have been given the privilege of both seeing and naming the Lord. God came to wrestle with Jacob in the form of a mysterious man. He came to wrestle with the whole human race in the form of the plain man Jesus Christ. It is through Jesus that you and I are now invited to take hold of God and find the blessing that He wants to give. It is through Jesus that we may come out on the other side of the struggle with a new life.
Jacob’s new life is displayed in the fact that he did go on to meet and be reconciled with his brother Esau. He did what he before had feared to do. He gave up the tricks and placed himself alone at Esau’s feet. And God blessed that meeting. Esau received him with a warm embrace.
I know only a few of the wrestling matches happening here today, as you struggle in your own way with the Lord, trying to match your will with His. What I know best are my own struggles. But whatever yours is, I would like you to go away with the lesson that Jacob learned. God wants to bless you. That’s what the fight is about.
Like Jacob was, you might be wrestling with a need to be reconciled to someone. Or it may be that ending a wrong relationship is your battle. You may find yourself pinned beneath some sin you cannot shake. You could be trying to get a hold on your career, or your education, or some other aspect of your future. You might be merely clinging to your sanity in the face of what is happening in the present. At points it seems like you have been utterly and devastatingly defeated. If your leg is not actually out of joint, then you are nonetheless limping from your wrestling match.
It is then, at that point of defeat, what Frederick Buechner called "The Magnificent Defeat," that I urge you to give up the fight… but not your hold. Quit struggling to resolve it all by your own power, and struggle for only one thing. Struggle to hold on to Jesus and wait for His blessing. He wants to bless you. You are His own dear child, and He wants nothing more and nothing less than to show you His love.
Let go of the struggle, but do not let go of the Lord. He will not let go of you.
Amen.
Valley Covenant Church
Eugene/Springfield, Oregon
Copyright © 1998 by Stephen S. Bilynskyj