Painting Credit | Jacob Wrestling with the Angel by Odilon Redon, 1903
A Homily for the St. Michael – San Miguel Episcopal Church in Newberg, Oregon.
Lessons from the Lectionary Readings for the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost.
“Not…until you bless me.”
Depending on how you look at it, Jacob is a pretty lucky man…
He’s become rich off the herds of his father-in-law Laban. He has 2 wives, 2 concubines, and many children. His household is marked by wealth and stability. Like his father and grandfather Jacob enjoys a special relationship with God, and he even hears God speaking to him. And when our story opens in today’s reading from Genesis 32, Jacob is on his way home to the land God gave his grandfather Abraham. If this isn’t blessing, what is?
On the other hand, Jacob is in a sort of exile. He fled from home after manipulating his brother, Esau, out of his birthright and then stealing Esau’s blessing as the oldest son. Then Jacob falls in love and works seven years for Rachel, only to be tricked into marrying her sister, Leah. In the end, he works14 years in total to pay off the bride-price for his wives. He then endures constant attempts at wage-fraud from Laban of a few more years, after which Jacob also had to flee Laban because Laban’s sons were jealous of Jacob’s increasing wealth as God continued to multiply Jacob’s portion of the herds, at the expense of Laban and his sons. While Jacob and Laban made peace earlier in the chapter, their parting was strained. One of Jacob’s wives—Rachel—has stolen her father’s household gods, leading to a search of the camp and potentially raising questions about Jacob’s household’s commitment to the god of Abraham and Isaac. And, when our story opens, Jacob has sent his wives, children, and servants away because he’s learned that Esau is coming to meet him—with 400 men! Jacob assumes that Esau is seeking revenge for Jacob’s treacherous actions years earlier. And so Jacob spends the night alone and unprotected, all in the hopes of protecting his household and family—his sons and grandchildren who would become the people of Israel—from Esau.
Is Jacob blessed? He was the one who received his father’s blessing. He is the one God is making prosperous, guiding and protecting. But if this is blessing, why is Jacob spending the night alone, vulnerable, and afraid?
Paul, too, seems caught in this strange tension between blessing and suffering. In our reading today, he enumerate the great blessings from God that belong to his people, Israel: “the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; to them belong the patriarchs, and from them, according to the flesh, comes the Messiah, who is over all.” These are tremendous blessings. And yet, Paul is in anguish over Israel. Like Jacob, he would “wish himself accursed and cut off from Christ” for their sake. He would gladly be the one made vulnerable, be the one alone and suffering in order to save Israel. But it isn’t just Paul who is lonely and afraid for Israel.
As Paul continues to reflect on Israel over the next few chapters, he considers Israel’s own experience of being cut-off for the sake of saving others. As with Jacob, and Paul himself, might there be redemptive power in Israel being alone and vulnerable, cut-off for a time so that Gentiles might be “grafted in” (Rom. 11:17) But even with that hope, what sort of blessing is this? Who would want a blessing looks like abandonment, rejection, and loneliness?
Returning to Genesis with Paul’s writing in mind, we might notice that, like the people of Israel, Jacob (who on this on this night receives the name Israel) finds himself cut-off—in this case from his brother, from his homeland, from his father-in-law, and even from his wives, children and household to protect them. And in that darkness, Jacob wrestles with a strange being: a man whom Jacob later describes, in his naming of the site, as God.
The wrestling match is a more even fight than one might imagine. The man/angel/God strikes Jacobs hip, dislocating it, and still Jacob won’t let go. Finally, the being insists Jacob let go because it is morning. But Jacob still refuses: “Not until you bless me.” I don’t know what is more surprising in this passage, Jacob’s audacious tenacity as he continues to wrestle, despite the darkness and pain, or God’s willingness to bless Jacob after Jacob refuses to let go, after Jacob insists, “Not until you bless me.”
What more is Jacob seeking than he already has? What would it look like for Jacob to be blessed more than he has already been? He is prosperous and his livelihood is secure. He has a family and children. He quite literally walks with and talks with God. What more does he want? What is the blessing Jacob is seeking?
Jacob longs for God’s protection for his household, for his children and grandchildren. He wants life for himself and for them. But that requires reconciliation between himself and Esau. And this is exactly what follows today’s reading from Genesis. After having his name changed to Israel—one who wrestles with God—Jacob and his brother Esau meet. Rather than the violence Jacob expected, he finds Esau is keen to reconcile, keen for peace. Perhaps this is what blessing really looks like. Blessing isn’t the trappings of success or stability. In this story, blessing looks like healing, reconciliation, and the reunion of brothers who have been estranged by bribery, dishonesty, and misunderstanding. Paul suggests something similar when he asks, “if [Israel’s] rejection brought reconciliation to the world, what will their acceptance be but life from the dead?” (Rom 11:15). Despite Israel’s temporary alienation from its Messiah, Paul is certain that blessing will abound when they are reunited, a blessing not just for Israel but for the entire world.
What then does it mean to be blessed? When we find ourselves lonely and striving, vulnerable and afraid for the sake of those we love, we don’t usually feel blessed. When we find ourselves clinging to God’s shirt-collar, refusing to let go but still angry and scared and hurting, we certainly don’t feel blessed. But our readings today suggest that those very moments when we are most alone—when we are surrounded by darkness and pain—those might be the very moments when we’re being offered the chance to wrestle with God for our own sake and for the sake of others. Our wrestling will surely wound us and even scar us—Jacob walked with a limp for the rest of his life. But these passages reveal that our very wrestling with God somehow becomes the blessing. Our wrestling—somehow and beyond what we can imagine—might just bring reconciliation and new life for ourselves, for those we love, and maybe even for the world.
grace & peace,
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