Genesis 32:22-31

Genesis 32:22-31 (NRSV)

²² The same night he got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children, and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. ²³ He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had. ²⁴ Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. ²⁵ When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket; and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. ²⁶ Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” ²⁷ So he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” ²⁸ Then the man said, “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.” ²⁹ Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. ³⁰ So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.” ³¹ The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.

 

In Genesis 32:22-31, we have another account of an encounter with Yahweh. ²² The same night he got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children, and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. The Jabbok is an eastern tributary of the Jordan, originating near the modern city of Amman in Jordan. The Bible mentions it seven times, all in the first seven books of the Hebrew Bible. Such a place on the other side, dangerous and uncertain, is a typical place of encounter with divinity, demons, or spirits. This indicates an ancient, animistic, pre-J story at the core of the passage. It has a similar style to Exodus 4:24-26 and the encounter of Yahweh with Moses. The story is related to the many ancient stories of the gods attacking a man and in which the man extorts something of their strength. One frequent theme is that the god’s strength is associated with the night. ²³ He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had. ²⁴ Jacob was left alone. Encounters with the Divine most often occur when one is alone, with no support or reinforcements. And suddenly, with no warning or preparation a man wrestled with him until daybreak. Much debate revolves around who this man is: Esau, Jacob wrestling with himself, or, as the context suggests, an angel of the Lord or the Lord. If we think in terms of an ancient, pre-J legend, he might wrestle with the river god, whom Jacob must defeat to cross into the land of Israel. While a few rabbinic scholars declare this ish simply to be Esau, confronting his brother under cover of darkness, most Jewish traditions define the visitor as an angel -- a heavenly being watching out for Esau's interests. A more psychologically sophisticated interpretation declares this opponent to be Jacob's own angel -- suggesting that Jacob must wrestle with himself (his old identity) to cross the river into his future and his new role as Israel. Early Christian tradition posited that this angel was one sent by Jesus to test Jacob's character. ²⁵ When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, surely Yahweh would prevail, so some think that this cannot be the divine opponent, he struck him on the hip socket; explaining a dietary law in Israel, but also giving himself an unfair advantage, hardly an act one would expect from Yahweh, and may be a hit to the genitals, painting a tawdry picture of deity, and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. ²⁶ Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” Jacob is still able to stand his ground. But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” The request for a blessing is not pious, but a primitive human reaction to an encounter with the Lord.  ²⁷ So he said to him, “What is your name?” This emphasis upon the name is an indication of an ancient, animistic, pre-J story at the core of the passage. To have the name of an opponent is to understand who that person is, the character of the person, and to have the name is to have at least some opportunity to have power over the being. The question is rhetorical, setting the stage for the new name he will receive. And he said, “Jacob.” ²⁸ Then the man said, “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, may El preserve, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.” The mysterious encounter with a supernatural being becomes an encounter with divinity that transforms Jacob from a trickster and cheat into one who is the parent of the twelve tribes of the chosen people. The anticipation is that Jacob is a new, powerful person after this encounter. He transforms from a deceiver to a forthright and resolute fighter. The formerly deceitful Jacob will condemn, as Israel, Simeon and Levi in chapter 34 for their deceitfulness. The name will now symbolize a new nation and a new people. This new identity appears is a prize -- a trophy for Jacob's willingness to wrestle with all that comes his way, divine and human. ²⁹ Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” The request for the name of the divine opponent represents the universal longing for God. But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” The being pulls free, thus preserving the mystery and freedom of the being. God finds manifestation in the working of divine power. We know the distinctiveness of the essence of God by the characteristics of this working of power. The uniqueness of God focuses on the name. He then points out that on an ancient view of knowledge of the name gives power over the one who bears it. For that reason, deity refuses to give its name, as we find here.[1]  And there he blessed him. ³⁰ So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.” We need to take Jacob seriously. Our earlier speculation as to who the person might be must stop with the pronouncement of Jacob. His opponent has been Yahweh. The rule is that we cannot, unlike Jacob here, see God and live, because a radical change needs to take place for us to participate in the eternity of God. We need this change due to the sin of separation from God and the antagonism of creatures among themselves.[2] ³¹ The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel,  limping because of his hip. A divine being losing power at break of day reflects an ancient, animistic, pre-J story at the core of the passage.

I am taking seriously that Jacob states in verse 30 that this encounter with “a man,” a stranger, is an encounter with God. Encounters with the divine can be unexpected and dangerous. They contain a risk if one embraces the encounter. The unexpectedness and mystery of the encounter are typical of how God often interjects divine power and presence into human life in order to transform a fearful, uncertain future into a future of promise and possibility. We often want everything explained in simple terms. We want our needs met. Congregational leaders find needs and fill them. We may learn to scratch where people itch, but we scratch nothing significant. Yet, we also want to meet God. God is mysterious and dangerous. Yes, God loves, supports, and provides safety or refuge. Such a picture of God could create a relationship with God that is more like a cradle or a cocoon. Yet, the picture we find here of God is not such a simple one. Yahweh is abrasive, complex, and unpredictable. We need both pictures to have a real picture of Yahweh.[3] Since God wants a divine-human encounter to transform people into new persons, God wants to engage people in battle. A chapter in the spiritual biography of every believer needs to have the title, “My struggle with God.” Jacob has been a scoundrel, schemer, and deceiver, but must become Israel, the father of the twelve tribes of a people whom Yahweh will choose. Yahweh will bless him and lock him into serving the divine and good purpose God is working out on this earth. Such a movement is not always a pleasant experience. We must beware of presenting a relationship with God as too rosy and clear. A relationship with God is far from easy. God can grab us, fight with us, and jerk us all the way around, to move us toward a new path we never dreamed of taking.[4]

The encounter described in this passage forges a new understanding or perspective of the relationship between Jacob and Yahweh. The encounter tests the fitness of Jacob for the larger tasks that lay ahead. The placement of the story interrupts the narrative of Jacob’s encounter and interaction with his brother Esau and marks a turning point in Israel’s history. Crossing the river is not just another moment in the journey, but also a definitive moment in the life of Jacob. This story will provide an etiology for the change of name from Jacob to Israel, the pronounced limp of Jacob, a food taboo, and the holy place Penuel/Peniel. Is this a demonstration of Jacob's new honest and obedient relationship with God? Alternatively, does it once again show the cunning and clever ancestor of all Israel getting the upper hand? Jacob is a figure who has some ambiguity attached to him.  On the one hand, he is one of the patriarchs of Israel, and indeed his name becomes Israel.  At the same time, many of the stories portray him as deceitful, wily, scheming and even dishonest.  This chosen one of God truly had a checkered past. Jacob, the younger, the heel-grabber, appropriated both his brother Esau's birthright and his blessing, thus unethically gaining for himself the privileges of the firstborn. To achieve this, Jacob intentionally deceived his father, Isaac, while willingly putting his mother, Rebekah, at risk of a curse (Genesis 27:13). Having totally disrupted any semblance of family unity, Jacob then ran off to establish a new life for himself in the land of his uncle Laban. Now, it is time for Jacob to return to his homeland and begin his life's work.  Once again, he uses questionable tactics.  For the sake of safety, he sends his family ahead to approach Esau first.  He sends gifts to dazzle his brother.  Having taken all the precautions, he confronts the unexpected and unpredictable. In verse 30, he will say he has seen God face to face. In most cases in the Bible, one cannot see God and live because we need a radical change to participate in the eternity of God.[5] The visitor has the power to make Jacob give honest responses, to receive his name, and to give him a new name, a new character. Jacob wants to know the name of this divine being, an indication of the human longing for the divine. Yet, in the refusal to do so, the divine remains mysterious.[6] A human being does not have power over the divine. Rather, this human being, alone with God, must learn the purpose God has for him. This had become, not just the crossing of the river, but the definitive moment in Jacob's life. This passage is speaking about a new Jacob in the making.  Jacob’s wrestling bout with the divine opponent recalls his past struggle with Esau for the Blessing--a struggle that began in the womb.  As Jacob prepares to meet Esau, the struggle continues; but, on Jacob’s part, it is now more sophisticated. Life is not so simple for Jacob; it is not just the matter of getting past Esau.  Jacob must deal with God because God has an interest in what is happening between Esau and Jacob.^[7]

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 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. Often, risk is the path to reward. This principle may be true in football, finance, and in faith.

Jacob’s wrestling match with God shows us how to have a risky faith that goes the extra yard. Despite 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 were not 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 received it, but left without a clear sense of what to do next?

An aboriginal tribe 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.[8]

Such unsettling matters are before us. Real growth requires struggle and pain. Spiritual growth may mean a shift in perspective. Real growth may even feel as if God is the “attacker,” the one upsetting the applecart of our lives. Taking the risk of persevering with God, in prayer and in life, will always bring its rewards. 

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[1] (Pannenberg, Systematic Theology 1998, 1991) Volume 1, 359-60.

[2] (Pannenberg, Systematic Theology 1998, 1991) Volume 3, 607

[3] David Clines, “Yahweh and the God of Christian Theology,” Theology, Se 1980, 327-328.  

[4] Elizabeth Achtemeier, “The Wrestling.”

[5] (Pannenberg, Systematic Theology 1998, 1991) Volume 3, 607

[6] (Pannenberg, Systematic Theology 1998, 1991) Volume 1, 359-60.

[7] Frederick C. Holmgren, “Holding Your Own Against God!” Interpretation, May 1988.  

[8] Robert Bly, in his book Iron John.