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August 2002
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18th Sunday in Ordinary Time (August 4, 2002)
“Expect to Be Changed” Dr. Julie Adkins/Dr. Van Kemper
Text: Genesis 32:22-32
SERMON
You
know, the Old Testament is full of strange stories,
but I’ve
always thought this one about Jacob’s wrestling match
was one of the strangest!
Let
me remind us of the context;
it’ll help a
little, though not much.
Jacob,
you remember, had a twin brother, Esau,
who was born
just a few seconds ahead of Jacob.
Esau
was his father’s favorite;
Jacob was the
mama’s boy.
And
when they were young men
–many,
many years before this wrestling episode –
Jacob and
Rebekah, his mother,
tricked Isaac, the father, who was dying,
into giving Jacob the blessing that should have gone to Esau.
The
equivalent might be to say that
though
Esau as first-born should have been his father’s rightful heir, Jacob managed
to get the goods for himself.
Anyhow,
needless to say,
Jacob and
Esau’s relationship
took a downward turn after that!
In
fact, Esau made plans to kill Jacob
after a
suitable period of mourning for their father was over.
So
Jacob hightailed it out of there,
and went to
work for several years for his uncle Laban,
and married
Laban’s daughters Leah and Rachel
(one accidentally, one on purpose),
and has eleven
sons by the time
we get to this episode of the wrestling match.
(This
is what you call making a long story short!)
Now,
as an adult,
Jacob has
determined to make peace with his brother.
So
he sends messengers to Esau,
and they gladly
bring a message back
that Esau is coming to meet them
with an army of four hundred.
Well,
that doesn’t sound too promising.
So
next Jacob sends a present to Esau:
goats and sheep
and cows and camels and donkeys.
Then,
as night falls,
he sends his
wives and children on ahead across the stream,
and he is left alone.
And
then the strange wrestling match takes place.
Jacob
and a stranger,
who turns out
to be God,
going at each other tooth and nail,
till dawn lights the sky.
And
towards the end,
when it appears
that the match is going to be a draw,
God seems to pull rank just a bit.
God
touches Jacob on the thigh,
and puts it out
of joint.
Only
then does Jacob realize
he is not
wrestling with any ordinary man.
So
he insists on receiving a blessing before he lets go …
interesting,
isn’t it, how fixated Jacob is
on getting himself blessed …
He
insists on a blessing from this stranger,
because, as it
turns out,
Jacob has been wrestling with God.
Now,
as I said,
the story has
always seemed a little strange to me.
There
is so much that the text doesn’t tell us.
Why
was God picking on Jacob?
Nowhere does
the stranger give any reason
for his sudden appearance and aggressive action.
And
how was Jacob strong enough to wrestle God all night long?
That doesn’t
even make sense.
And
why, only at the very end, did God cripple Jacob?
Makes God sound
like sort of a sore loser.
And
finally, perhaps most importantly,
why is the
story here in the first place,
and what were
we supposed to learn from this odd episode?
Well
…the first thing I think we must recognize
is that it is
appropriate, and perhaps even expected,
that we will wrestle with God.
Perhaps
not in quite as literal a sense as Jacob did …
but wrestle we
must.
Jacob’s
grandfather Abraham, the grand patriarch of all Israel,
got into verbal
sparring matches with God
with some frequency.
In
fact, on a few occasions,
he even
succeeded in changing God’s mind
about
a particular plan of action.
For
example, Abraham bargained God down to
a refusal to
destroy the city of Sodom,
if only five righteous people can be found in it.
(God originally
insisted on forty.
Not that it mattered anyway,
since apparently there weren’t even five.)
Later,
the prophets of the Old Testament
wrangled with
God rather often as well –
with God on the
one side,
continually ready to punish Israel for its many sins,
and the
prophets on the other,
pleading that God temper justice with mercy.
On
numerous occasions in the books of different prophets,
we find the
arguments and wrestling going on,
and then find language like
“God repented
of the evil which [he intended to do].”
That
is, the prophet changed God’s mind.
And
in the New Testament, we find even Jesus –
at least, the
human part of his nature –
wrestling with God on occasion.
Most
notably, in the garden of Gethsemane,
pleading that
God find a different way for the story to end
than with his own suffering and death.
If
so many of the heroes and heroines of the Bible
wrestled with
God in some way,
then
why should we be afraid to join the fray?
Especially
when things are not going well with us or with a loved one,
we want to get
face-to-face with God,
and ask hard,
even angry questions,
like “Why do bad things happen to good people?”
or
“Why won’t you heal me from this illness?”
Sometimes,
it seems that wrestling with God makes a difference –
from the human point of view, anyway.
But
this also raises some sticky theological questions!
- Can human
beings really change God’s mind about anything?
(And even if we can, should we?)
- If God’s
mind is changed about something,
does that mean that God was wrong before?
From
a human vantage point,
there are no
certain answers to those questions.
They
are a mystery.
And
I don’t say that just to avoid them,
but because
there truly are some things
that we, at this point in our lives with God,
cannot know or understand.
What
we do know, though, is this:
for whatever
reason,
God has chosen to be in and to remain in relationship
with us human critters,
and this means
not only
that we must take God seriously,
but also
that God takes us very seriously.
We
do have the privilege and the responsibility
to question, to
argue, to challenge, to wrestle with, God,
when we feel we must.
Or
perhaps, as in Jacob’s case,
when God
feels that we must!
Of
course, Jacob’s story raises another question
that we don’t
dare try to dodge.
The
story ends with Jacob
limping off to
meet his brother, Esau.
It
might seem, thus, that God has punished Jacob
for his
presumption in wrestling with the Almighty
and demanding a blessing.
And
if so, then,
even if God does
supposedly want us to engage / wrestle / challenge,
who among us would be dumb enough to do it
if God is just going to get mad and punish us?
But
I don’t think that punishment
is the point of
what happened to Jacob.
His
limping is more symbolic,
although for him
I’m sure it was real.
It
reflects the truth we all know:
that when we
have encountered God,
and been
encountered by God
in any serious kind of way,
we do become
out of step with the rest of the world.
That
picture of Jacob,
limping away
from his confrontation with the divine,
is a marvelous image.
Whether
or not we’re comfortable believing
that our
wrestling might change God …
what is certain
is that those confrontations change us.
At
times it may indeed seem that we are wounded,
and that God
has won the battle …
Jacob
apparently limped for the rest of his life …
Yet
God said to Jacob,
“You have
striven with God and with mortals,
and you have prevailed.”
God
does not punish us
for faithfully
wrestling with tough questions,
even when that turns out to mean wrestling with God also.
But
God does change us.
And
change is painful, at least at first.
So
go ahead, wrestle with God if you need to.
And
if you come away limping, rejoice …
because it
means that God has touched you.
As
God touched Jacob …
As
we go forward into this new season of the church year
--
with Rally Day just two weeks away --
and
as we go forward with planning for new efforts to be
a
“Welcoming Congregation” to our Oak Cliff neighborhood --
now
is an excellent time to reconsider
our future in the light of Jacob’s story.
Looking
into the future is rather like wrestling with God in the dark:
we cannot
control the future,
although
we can try to anticipate
and
plan for what may happen.
Part
of the challenge of dealing with the future
is
being willing to give up our grip on the past
and
urge the past to give up its grip on us!
Only if we let
go of the past – and the past will let go of us –
can
we turn our attention to the future.
Just
as Jacob had to come to terms with his past –
and his
struggles with his brother Esau –
so we need to give up our grip on the past,
literally, to let it go –
so
that the past no longer holds us back
from becoming what God would have us become.
Otherwise,
the future will just sneak up on us like a shadow in the night
and
we will have no hands free to deal with it.
Struggling
with our future can be painful, too.
Looking
the future in the eye,
really
seeing what our future holds,
can
be a blow to our self-image.
Just
as Jacob limped away from his wrestling match with God,
never
able to walk about in the old way,
so
we – in letting go of the past and in encountering our future – will never
be the same again.
We
become more like the heroes of the faith
when we take
God seriously enough to wrestle.
May
we have the courage to fight when we must,
and the grace
to bear our scars with joy.
And
in whatever happens, we can count on one thing in this encounter:
we can expect
to be changed.
Amen.