devotion on Genesis 32:22-31

Please read the passage first.


When the game is on the line, playing to win beats playing not to lose every time. At least, that is the result of a study by David Romer in 2007. For him, this is not just true at the end of a game, but throughout the game. Yet, coaches still play safely and conservatively, preferring to play not to lose rather than to win. Such a mentality is true of most leaders, apparently, who focus upon not screwing up rather than winning. Wayne Stewart, who teaches management at Clemson University, says that successful managers understand that fear of failure is often primary cause of failure. More often than not, risk is the path to reward. I might add that this principle may be true in football, finance, and in faith.
Jacob’s wrestling match with God in Genesis 32:22-31 shows us how to have a risky faith that goes the extra yard. In spite of the difficulty of the images in this passage, in the end, he was confident he had met God at a crucial time in his life. It led to a new name and reconciliation with his brother.
How many of us have had a sleepless night struggling with our conscience or trying to justify ourselves for some hurt we inflicted? How many of us have suspected God was calling us to something we weren’t keen on and found sleep elusive while we tried to rationalize the whole business away? And how many of us have sought God’s blessing, and been given it, but left without a clear sense of what to do next?
Robert Bly, in his book Iron John, tells of an aboriginal tribe that used to take all the boys, when they reached a certain age, to a special place where they would tell them the ancient stories of their ancestors. They would point to a distant tree where their great ancestor (an Adamic figure) used to sit and where he lost a tooth in a fight with some demonic creature. And while they strain to look at the tree, the adult males come by and knock out one tooth from each of the boys. And then the boys return home as men.
Such unsettling matters are before us. Real growth seems to require struggle and pain. Real spiritual growth may mean a shift in perspective. Real growth may even feel as if God is the “attacker,” the one upsetting the applecart, so to speak, of our lives. Taking the risk of persevering with God, in prayer and in life, will always bring its rewards.