A sermon based on Genesis 32:22-31 preached at South Haven UCC in Bedford, August 6th, 2017.
* * *
He was born grabbing his brother’s heel, wrestling his way out into the world. Heel-sneak, the deceiver, Jacob. Jacob, the younger son of Isaac and Rebekah, promised from before birth to be the stronger of the twins. He wrestled a birthright out of his brother’s hands through a well placed meal of bread and lentil stew. But he didn’t stop there and with the help of his mother, he tricked Isaac into giving him the blessing that was due to Esau. In a true show of stubbornness, he even managed to wrestle a flock of sheep into submission. Through these sly and ingenious means he was able to take ownership of most of his uncle Laban’s flock. Jacob fought, scratched, ran, and wrestled his way to his position, the underdog that wouldn’t let go. In the words of the musical Hamilton, Jacob was young, scrappy, and hungry.
After all of this antagonism, the night before he was fated to meet his brother Esau was no different. Here, at the place which would be named Peniel, he wrestles with an unknown opponent.
This account might be jarring in its suddenness, as we are just trying to decipher Jacob’s travel to reach Esau when seemingly out of nowhere and bam, he is engaged in this wrestling match. Yet Jacob must have been prepared, this lifetime of being on edge, on the run, always trying to outsmart his next opponent. Once a wrestler, always a wrestler. And so his tenacious nature kicks in and he refuses to let his opponent go. The two are evenly matched until Jacob is struck on the hip, but even then Jacob does not relent.
Quite the opposite. As it has happened before, Jacob manages to wrestle a blessing out of this unique situation. “I will not let you go,” he challenges, “unless you bless me.” And so he receives a blessing in the form of a new name, a promise that echoes through the nation and the people of God that follow after him. Yet he is not left unscathed, as he exits the scene limping, heading toward an uncertain encounter with his brother.
Now I’m going to tell you about the sermon I’m not going to preach.
I’m not going to preach to you about my spiritual struggle. I won’t tell you about how God will come to you in the night. I’m not going to tell you about how you will metaphorically wrestle with God.
Instead, my single question with this story this week has been, what if we’re not Jacob?
I’m going to tell you why I think that’s an essential question for how we understand this spiritual story, but it’s going to take some backtracking.
This week, as some of you know, I was at a training in Chicago on renewal in the church. This is a great kind of training to offer right now, I think the only way to make it more popular would be to advertise “Ten tips and tricks to get millennials back in your pews and tithing!”
As you may have noticed, the North American church is changing. My generation has largely dismissed the institution of the church, but also our culture is morphing and adapting quite quickly. For many reasons, our congregations just don’t quite look like how they used to and it seems like the church has been a bit slow to adapt to what is next.
This isn’t news to me, in part because it’s the only church I know. So it doesn’t worry me in the same way that it worries some of my older colleagues who have watched the life they have built in the church shift before their eyes.
The question that’s buzzing around the North American church is how can we get people back? Maybe you’ve asked that question yourself.
Here’s the other part of the equation. While those of us in the church have been bemoaning our losses, there has been no decline in spirituality, faith, and search for community in North America. It might have religious words or it might not. But my belief is that if you look around you can see how God has not vanished from our midst. We should not be so arrogant to think we could get rid of God that quickly.
In other words, I think we can get distracted by thinking that we’re the only ones who are Jacob, the ones who have been seeking and searching and wrestling with faith, missing all of the Jacobs that are already out there.
As people of faith, it makes sense to put ourselves center in these stories of faith. We are heirs to the narrative. There is a challenge to the church, our church and the church universal, to be mindful of how God does not work exclusively through neat and tidy means. God is not only known by those who have officially pledged membership. If we are to learn another thing from the story of Jacob’s nighttime wrestling match, it is that God is mysterious, dramatic, sudden, and unexpected.
What if this wasn’t a story about us, but the people we should be looking for in the world?
You can learn a lot by asking a non-church goer about their relationship with God. Listen for what the story is about be spiritual, but not religious, about the nighttime struggles and desire for a blessing.
To listen, to learn, we have to be open handed. It is not about what we will receive, but to understand God’s blessing as broad enough for all.
And for an example of how to do this, I look beyond the account of Jacob wrestling and look at the response of his brother, Esau. Esau is a model of openness, of kindness and generosity. I hope to be like Esau when I interact with people, so gracious.
After his sleepless evening Jacob did go to meet up with Esau, sending many gifts ahead. He arrives last to greet Esau and where he might have met violence, Jacob finds forgiveness and love from his brother.
And then Esau invites Jacob to stay with him. After his name change, surely all will be reconciled. Here, yet we think that Jacob has completely changed his character, Jacob lies and coms up with an excuse so he wouldn’t have to remain with his brother. The brother’s paths diverge once again. Esau does not challenge this. Where he could have asserted authority over his brother and caused more conflict, he lets Jacob go, without jealousy or possessiveness. He does not question his motives.
How can we have Esau’s eyes when we look at the world God is blessing outside of our church walls? How can we have Esau’s enthusiasm and love for those who are fighting for their faith, their blessing, even when it is a challenge to us?
The question for me is who does God bless? If I thought it was just me, or my community, or those who have found the one true way and joined the UCC, well, this would be easy. I would always be Jacob, we would get to be the heroes and the center of God’s blessing.
That’s not my faith though, and I suspect it’s not yours either.
Keep your ears perked for stories like Jacob’s. Everyone carries a story about faith and spirituality, even if they don’t use the same language we do. Everyone has a story of struggle, of victories that leave scars, of complicated family relationships. The work of our faith is to be witness to how we understand God’s presence in all places. That might begin with your life, but it doesn’t end there.
* * *
He was born grabbing his brother’s heel, wrestling his way out into the world. Heel-sneak, the deceiver, Jacob. Jacob, the younger son of Isaac and Rebekah, promised from before birth to be the stronger of the twins. He wrestled a birthright out of his brother’s hands through a well placed meal of bread and lentil stew. But he didn’t stop there and with the help of his mother, he tricked Isaac into giving him the blessing that was due to Esau. In a true show of stubbornness, he even managed to wrestle a flock of sheep into submission. Through these sly and ingenious means he was able to take ownership of most of his uncle Laban’s flock. Jacob fought, scratched, ran, and wrestled his way to his position, the underdog that wouldn’t let go. In the words of the musical Hamilton, Jacob was young, scrappy, and hungry.
After all of this antagonism, the night before he was fated to meet his brother Esau was no different. Here, at the place which would be named Peniel, he wrestles with an unknown opponent.
This account might be jarring in its suddenness, as we are just trying to decipher Jacob’s travel to reach Esau when seemingly out of nowhere and bam, he is engaged in this wrestling match. Yet Jacob must have been prepared, this lifetime of being on edge, on the run, always trying to outsmart his next opponent. Once a wrestler, always a wrestler. And so his tenacious nature kicks in and he refuses to let his opponent go. The two are evenly matched until Jacob is struck on the hip, but even then Jacob does not relent.
Quite the opposite. As it has happened before, Jacob manages to wrestle a blessing out of this unique situation. “I will not let you go,” he challenges, “unless you bless me.” And so he receives a blessing in the form of a new name, a promise that echoes through the nation and the people of God that follow after him. Yet he is not left unscathed, as he exits the scene limping, heading toward an uncertain encounter with his brother.
Now I’m going to tell you about the sermon I’m not going to preach.
I’m not going to preach to you about my spiritual struggle. I won’t tell you about how God will come to you in the night. I’m not going to tell you about how you will metaphorically wrestle with God.
Instead, my single question with this story this week has been, what if we’re not Jacob?
I’m going to tell you why I think that’s an essential question for how we understand this spiritual story, but it’s going to take some backtracking.
This week, as some of you know, I was at a training in Chicago on renewal in the church. This is a great kind of training to offer right now, I think the only way to make it more popular would be to advertise “Ten tips and tricks to get millennials back in your pews and tithing!”
As you may have noticed, the North American church is changing. My generation has largely dismissed the institution of the church, but also our culture is morphing and adapting quite quickly. For many reasons, our congregations just don’t quite look like how they used to and it seems like the church has been a bit slow to adapt to what is next.
This isn’t news to me, in part because it’s the only church I know. So it doesn’t worry me in the same way that it worries some of my older colleagues who have watched the life they have built in the church shift before their eyes.
The question that’s buzzing around the North American church is how can we get people back? Maybe you’ve asked that question yourself.
Here’s the other part of the equation. While those of us in the church have been bemoaning our losses, there has been no decline in spirituality, faith, and search for community in North America. It might have religious words or it might not. But my belief is that if you look around you can see how God has not vanished from our midst. We should not be so arrogant to think we could get rid of God that quickly.
In other words, I think we can get distracted by thinking that we’re the only ones who are Jacob, the ones who have been seeking and searching and wrestling with faith, missing all of the Jacobs that are already out there.
As people of faith, it makes sense to put ourselves center in these stories of faith. We are heirs to the narrative. There is a challenge to the church, our church and the church universal, to be mindful of how God does not work exclusively through neat and tidy means. God is not only known by those who have officially pledged membership. If we are to learn another thing from the story of Jacob’s nighttime wrestling match, it is that God is mysterious, dramatic, sudden, and unexpected.
What if this wasn’t a story about us, but the people we should be looking for in the world?
You can learn a lot by asking a non-church goer about their relationship with God. Listen for what the story is about be spiritual, but not religious, about the nighttime struggles and desire for a blessing.
To listen, to learn, we have to be open handed. It is not about what we will receive, but to understand God’s blessing as broad enough for all.
And for an example of how to do this, I look beyond the account of Jacob wrestling and look at the response of his brother, Esau. Esau is a model of openness, of kindness and generosity. I hope to be like Esau when I interact with people, so gracious.
After his sleepless evening Jacob did go to meet up with Esau, sending many gifts ahead. He arrives last to greet Esau and where he might have met violence, Jacob finds forgiveness and love from his brother.
And then Esau invites Jacob to stay with him. After his name change, surely all will be reconciled. Here, yet we think that Jacob has completely changed his character, Jacob lies and coms up with an excuse so he wouldn’t have to remain with his brother. The brother’s paths diverge once again. Esau does not challenge this. Where he could have asserted authority over his brother and caused more conflict, he lets Jacob go, without jealousy or possessiveness. He does not question his motives.
How can we have Esau’s eyes when we look at the world God is blessing outside of our church walls? How can we have Esau’s enthusiasm and love for those who are fighting for their faith, their blessing, even when it is a challenge to us?
The question for me is who does God bless? If I thought it was just me, or my community, or those who have found the one true way and joined the UCC, well, this would be easy. I would always be Jacob, we would get to be the heroes and the center of God’s blessing.
That’s not my faith though, and I suspect it’s not yours either.
Keep your ears perked for stories like Jacob’s. Everyone carries a story about faith and spirituality, even if they don’t use the same language we do. Everyone has a story of struggle, of victories that leave scars, of complicated family relationships. The work of our faith is to be witness to how we understand God’s presence in all places. That might begin with your life, but it doesn’t end there.
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