The Sneaker Becomes the Wrestler
Sermon preached by the Rev. John Elliott Lein at St. Thomas à Becket Episcopal Church on August 2, 2020, on the following texts: Genesis 32:22-31, Psalm 17:1-7,16, Romans 9:1-5, and Matthew 14:13-21.
Good morning!
Today we have reached the fourth section of our story about the patriarch Jacob. While he remains a significant character for the remaining 18 chapters of Genesis, the 32nd chapter marks the culmination of his inward and outward journeys.
For readers who look to the Bible for simple, uncomplicated people—either good or evil—Jacob is a disturbing figure. But for others of us, it’s Jacob’s very humanness in his complexity and flaws that make him a compelling and relatable character.
* * *
The story of Jacob began 7 chapters ago, in the very center of the book of Genesis. He was born holding onto his elder twin’s heel, and so given the name “Heel-Grabber.” Living into this name, he tricked first his brother Esau and then his father Isaac into giving him the birthright and blessing reserved for the elder. Esau cursed him, and Jacob fled. At this point there seems to be little to Jacob beyond his youthful selfishness and thievery.
The next episode found him on route out of his homeland of Canaan. He had a vision, received a promise from God, raised some truly massive stones, and eventually found his extended family in search of a wife. His journey into adulthood is about to begin.
Last week, we looked at the trials and tribulations of Jacob, Leah, Rachel, Zilpah, Bilhah, Laban, and all the rest of this complicated and acrimonious family system. We saw that the damage Jacob had caused through his deceptions is repaid multiple times over against him by his father-in-law and through his four wives. He eventually escapes the control of Harran and begins the journey back to Canaan with a large family and many fine sheep, but he’s no longer the care-free, purely self-seeking youth we met in the beginning.
There remains one more major test, and Jacob must have been dreading this for years—when he returns, he knows he will have to face his twin brother Esau who he cheated out of both inheritance and blessing.
* * *
Genesis chapter 32 begins with Jacob’s father-in-law leaving his daughters and grandchildren with a kiss and a blessing, knowing he will never see them again. The very next sentence briefly summarizes a second encounter between Jacob and angels, bookending his sojourn outside of Canaan. And the third sentence begins Jacob’s encounter with Esau, as he sends messengers ahead. This series of events are so significant that the rest of this chapter and the entirety of the next are consumed with it.
As Jacob journeys on toward his original home, slowly picking his way across the rocky terrain with at least dozens and likely many more people in his household along with many hundreds or a few thousand valuable herd animals, he has ample days to dwell on what is ahead.
And sure enough, soon the messengers he sent ahead return with the news he’s been dreading— Esau has already begun journeying toward him at the head of four hundred men. Our text tells us that “Jacob was greatly afraid, and he was distressed” (Gen. 32:8, Robert Altar). After twenty years, it seemed that Esau was no less angry at being deceived and robbed, and was determined to take vengeance by leading an army to wipe out his brother’s entire household.
Jacob hurriedly set in motion defensive measures. He divided his people and flocks into two groups, so that if one was destroyed the other might survive. He begged God to remember his promises in much more humble and grateful terms than he accepted them decades previous. And he sent a grand and impressive tribute ahead of him to Esau. Jacob grouped generous selections of his varied flocks into individual groups that he sent out one at a time, instructing the head of each to casually mention to his brother on the way past that they bear a tribute being brought straight to Esau’s home, one after the other. He does everything he can to placate Esau, hoping for a kind reception instead of the violence that he knows he deserves.
* * *
Our lectionary reading picks up on the night after Jacob has sent all these tributes out and preceding the day he knows he will face Esau.
He gathers up his wives and children, and crosses over the final river ford (the river name Yabbok means “wrestling,” and “ford” is literally a “crossing”). A clear sign of what is about to come. separating him from Esau to wait out the night. Then our narrator says:
And Yaakov was left alone—
and a man wrestled with him until the coming up of dawn.He saw that he could not prevail against him,
so he touched the socket of his thigh;
and the socket of Yaakov’s thigh was dislocated as he wrestled with him.
The man, seeing that he could not overcome Jacob, said: “Let me go, for dawn has come up!” But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”
What is going on here? Not only is this mysterious man taken for granted, including his reluctance to face the sun and use of magic to disable Jacob, but why would Jacob insist on a blessing when he has already taken and received so many blessings?
The very next exchange may shed a glimmer of light on the situation. The “man” asks Jacob: “What is your name?” “Yaakov” is the reply. What an appropriate name, we think—not only is he a heel- grabber as his mother named him; nor only a heel-tripper as his brother cursed him; but also one who “acts crookedly” and has just been given a crooked walk to match.
But now the man announces:
“Not as Yaakov/Heel-Sneak shall your name be henceforth uttered, but rather as Yisrael/God-Fighter,
for you have fought with God and men
and have prevailed!”
Jacob has been given an new name, a symbol of all the painful battles which have been fought in his soul and the inner transformation that has resulted. His name is now Israel, the namesake for the nation that will descend from his twelve sons and which will tell and retell these stories through the ages.
Who is this “man” that he wrestled with? Jacob also wants to know, but no answer is given. We are left to wonder.
Based on the name Jacob gives the site, as well as his renaming to Israel, some have said that it was God’s angel or God himself. However, neither are stated here and the man is apparently equally matched in strength. Some see him as a demonic night spirit guarding the crossing or a representation of all the terrors of night that lurk in the dark. For others it is Esau’s guardian angel or a spirit of teaching from Esau.
The most compelling suggestion I’ve heard (first read in Rabbi Harold Kushner’s book Living a Life That Matters, pp. 25-34) is this “man” is in actuality Jacob himself; it is a struggle between two parts of his nature, that which drives him to deception and conflict with others for selfish ends, and that which calls him to rise above those base impulses and act with a generous spirit. In his fear, he wrestles all night to a draw.
* * *
The psychologist Carl Jung talked of one’s “shadow,” the negative side of our personality which we are ashamed of and wish were not present. Our natural desire is to avoid facing this aspect of ourselves, which means it continually follows us around and interferes. When we do this, we justify those actions so that we can continue avoiding the truth, just as Jacob has done over and over.
But at this junction Jacob is tired of running. He’s exhausted from the split in his soul. He’s ready to face the music in three movements.
First, we saw that he faced God without the bravado or bargaining he used in the past; he committed without caveat, admitting his flaws and shortcomings while giving thanks for the blessings he has received and hopes to continue in.
Second, he faces himself. He looks deep into the darkest parts of his soul and stares them down. He doesn’t run, and he doesn’t avoid. Instead, he integrates. He takes those pieces of himself that have been most shameful and harmful, and he brings them in the light where they hurt but no longer control him blindly. He comes away wounded but at peace.
And third, as the sun rises, he goes to face his brother Esau. Still in abject fear but turning toward the source of his fear without excuse, he limps past each of of his family members and begins prostrating himself on the ground with every step as Esau thunders toward him.
And Esau runs.
And Esau hugs.
And Esau kisses.
And they weep together.
* * *
Of course the story doesn’t end here. Significantly, Jacob is rarely called by his new name Israel in subsequent chapters, and his failures do not disappear. Yes, he has found a measure of peace but he remains a flawed character who will continue to face the consequences of his younger self’s actions for the rest of his life.
But there is something different about him, and he is sometimes now able to use that feisty nature for good or overrule it’s actions rather than having it control him completely.
True maturity is not the elimination of our “shadow” self, but the coming to accept the complexity of who we have been and the integration of our soul into a new integrity while still working through the consequences of our actions. The root of the Greek sozo, translated “salvation,” means “healing, becoming whole.” When the apostle Paul begged God to rid him of his “thorn,” the reply was “my power is made perfect in weakness.”
We don’t like to be weak, naturally. We don’t like to face our shadows. But Jacob’s story shows us that here is the way of salvation even though it leaves us limping.
So in light of this story, let us end with a prayer:
May we each have the courage one day to stop running and face our shadows;
may we wrestle ourselves to a draw through the dark hours;
may we arise limping at dawn with a new name;
and may we find God’s power made perfect in weakness.
AMEN.
