Wednesday, August 10, 2005
"Journeying Together Faithfully"
Margaret G. Payne, bishop of the New England Synod


Some of my most trustworthy companions as I journey are stories from Scripture, and today I want to share one of my favorite stories with you. Members of the task force who are here in the assembly will recognize this as one that I shared with them last December, as we were writing the recommendations of the task force. Some of the members of the New England Synod will recognize it from Bible studies that I have done, and I would like to thank them for their help as I ponder it, and especially thank Pastor Marian Marks from Auburn, Maine, who sat with me for long hours one night and shared her wisdom and pondering with me.

This is a story of mystery and struggle and blessing. Listen as I read it to you.

Text: Genesis 32:22-31

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. He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had. Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. 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. Then he said, 'Let me go, for the day is breaking.' But Jacob said, 'I will not let you go, unless you bless me.' So he said to him, 'What is your name?' And he said, 'Jacob.' 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.' 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. So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, 'For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.' the sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.

Here ends the reading.

These verses from the book of Genesis are a glimpse into the life of Jacob. Jacob was the grandson of Abraham, son of Isaac and Rebekah, twin brother of Esau, and he was a holy scoundrel just like most of us.

Jacob was a quiet, stay-inside-the-tent kind of guy - not an outdoorsman and hunter like his older brother Esau. His earliest goal in life was to do whatever he had to do to get the best of his older brother, (I have two sons like that.) not only in the little ways of squealing on him and tripping him when he ran, but later, as they got older, by stealing Esau's birthright, and then stealing a blessing from their father.

He left home in the 28th chapter of Genesis because his brother was (understandably I would say) plotting to kill him. And then Jacob began to journey. Along the way he did whatever he needed to do to get what he wanted - years of working and planning, fathering many children with four women, jostling for favor with his father-in-law.

He was reminded occasionally of God alongside him in the journey, but mostly he was focused on his get-rich-quick schemes. Jacob had had some remarkable encounters with God before the one we read about in this lesson today. Probably the most famous is the dream he had at Bethel - a dream of angels ascending a ladder to heaven and descending. He was so moved by this evidence of God's presence with him that he made a vow to be faithful, and he set a stone as a pillar for a house of God in that place.

And he made another vow, which is most often overlooked in the telling of this story - he promised to tithe - to give back to God 10 percent of all that God gave him. (That's Genesis 28:22, for the stewardship chairs and other interested parties among us.)

Throughout all this time, deep inside, Jacob was longing to go home - longing to be reconciled with his brother, to introduce him to his wives and kids, to spend long nights with him over stew and wine, mulling over promises - promises kept and promises broken, to fit together the jagged pieces of a life that could not have been made whole until this final homecoming.

It was God who was tugging Jacob in the direction of home throughout his journey - but God had a passage through which Jacob had to travel before he could get there, and that passage was a time of dark struggling on the banks of the Jabbok River.

As we come to the verses for today in the 32nd chapter of Genesis, we learn that Jacob has gathered his goods and flocks and family and journeyed with them toward Esau's land.

He sent messengers ahead to tell Esau of his arrival, and the messengers returned to him with good news and bad news. The good news was that Esau was coming to meet him; the bad news was that he had 400 men with him, and the Bible tells us that "Jacob was greatly afraid and distressed."

So he developed an elaborate plan to send ahead a gift to Esau - a lavish present in various stages to smooth the way of the homecoming. (Jacob had a good instinct for "presentation.") The present was 220 goats, 220 sheep, 30 camels, 50 cows and 30 donkeys. He hoped that this lavish present would appease Esau, and would assure a happy reconciliation.

And then he also sent ahead his family, and every other thing he owned ahead of him, so he was alone when he was fiercely attacked. Throughout a long night of darkness Jacob struggled for his life. And that struggle was not just an unpleasant surprise on the journey; it was an encounter with God, and a test of Jacob's faithfulness, and facing that struggle was the only way to get home.

One of the greatest American illusions is that the good life should be one without struggle. Therefore, popular Christianity tends toward the assurance that as long as you have Jesus in your heart, you will find a parking place, be prosperous, avoid illness or get healed, win all wars, and be content in knowing that you are right and holy in your preferred beliefs - and certainly better than those in "other" religions.

But we Lutherans do not claim a "popular Christian spirituality;" we claim Christ crucified - we are marked with the cross of Christ forever - and our only certainty, from which all of our life arises and flows, is the certainty that Jesus is God, and that his death has given us eternal life, forgiveness of sin and a righteousness that we could never earn by ourselves.

We chart all our journeys by the compass of the cross of Christ -- and we know that the "good life" has more to do with humility and service than with victory and comfort.

Throughout these past four years we have been "Journeying Together Faithfully" in our study of issues of sexuality, and fourteen faithful Lutheran saintly sinners have been struggling to chart our course by the cross and work together, even though within the task force our certainties clashed constantly.

That name for this study was carefully chosen - it is a journey, not a battle; we seek to do it together as people of God in Christ, and we travel together faithfully - meaning that we travel with those who are equally passionate about commitment to God's Word in Jesus Christ, regardless of our differing views on these issues of sexuality.

The first recommendation of the task force (which I may remind you was not requested of us but arose from our own journeying) is meant to remind us of the shared nature of this shared journey. It is not a plea for unity; we have that already in the cross of Christ. It is not an announcement of peace where there is no peace. And it is not a childish wish that we could all learn how to play nicely together. It is a fervent beseeching that the people of this church struggle together and be willing to die to our own agendas so that we can have a single, crucified will that seeks only to serve Jesus and the world.

Although we are the church together, and we journey together, still we are, each one of us, as alone in the dark as Jacob as we face this struggle and all the other struggles in our lives. The fear of a life-threatening struggle with an unknown and powerful foe is a primal fear, and it is always made worse by darkness. I should know - I tend to be a fearful person.

When I was small, I had an irrational fear of bears, even though I lived in a row house in the midst of thousands of other row houses in Philadelphia, and the only bear I had ever seen was the one in the Philadelphia zoo. But in my bed at night, I would wake and call out for my mother, sure - convinced - that a bear was about to crawl into my bedroom window and eat me up. No matter how many times my mother sat with me and consoled me, locked the window, and explained patiently that it was very unlikely that the bear would take the two buses and subway that he would need to get to my house, especially when there would be so many people on the way that he could eat instead. But I was still desperately fearful. You can't explain away fears, or always console people.

I think that fear is all around us in every part of our lives these days - fear of terrorist attack, fear of illness and death of those we love, fear of the loss of familiar ways of life, fear of these issues of sexuality, and fear, sometimes, of one another. Although you can't explain away fear, you can fight it, and that's what Jacob did.

He fought with all his strength through the night, not knowing who he was fighting. He thought it was a man - it felt like a man wrestling with him over and over with him in the mud on the bank by the river. Was it a man, or an angel, or God? If it was God, why did God not prevail in the fight? Or was there something more important to God than prevailing over Jacob in that way?

And then the sun began to rise, and even though Jacob's hip had been wrenched out of joint, he was still wrestling and the man said to him: "Let me go, for the day is breaking."

But Jacob said: "I will not let you go unless you bless me."

What is this thing that Jacob had about blessing? He stole blessings, he cheated others out of blessings, he demanded blessings. But maybe that's what made him more holy than scoundrel - he knew his constant need of God's blessing despite his sinfulness.

Jacob fought and fought - and would not give up. And the man finally said to him: "What is your name?" And he said: "Jacob"

Then the man, or angel, or God said: "You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans and have prevailed." Then he blessed him. Then Jacob knew that he had touched and seen God in this struggle and that he was alive in the light of a new day, and facing a whole new life that included a new name, a new calling, a blessing, permission to go home and a permanent limp. Jacob was transformed in that struggle - shaped into the person that God wanted him to be and given a new set of gifts that the vision of angels had not been able to give to him.

There's a little passage in the next chapter of Genesis that I love, because it tells about Jacob's meeting with Esau.

As Jacob was limping away from his struggle, Esau ran to meet him - and the meeting is very much like another meeting of another prodigal and a welcoming family member - filled with forgiveness and love. Together they wept - and Jacob said to Esau: "Truly, to see your face is like seeing the face of God."

That's what the end of struggle and the beginning of reconciliation is all about - to be able to see the face of God in one another despite a history of sins, alienation and fear.

Jacob began his new life in this transformed relationship with his brother, with fewer illusions and more honesty about himself, with the courage and hope that is only real in God, and with a limp so that he would never forget his encounter.

Oh, and one other little thing - for those of you who remember that Jacob tithed - you might note that in chapter 33, verse 11, we learn that Jacob says he has everything he wants, despite giving away 10 percent and also giving a pretty hefty bundle to Esau. This is a very common experience among tithers.

This story of the struggle that made Jacob into Israel is like a room with a hundred doorways into God: you can visit it again and again, and still not exhaust the many ways to explore God's love for us and to ponder the importance of struggle in the life of faith.

In our church, I believe that we have a great need of a spirituality of struggle, and that we need to be careful not to fall into a spirituality of certainty that leaves no room for holy wrestling or for God's longing to transform us in ways we could never have imagined. For whenever we wrestle, whether it is with our own demons, or with our siblings or our enemies - and sometimes I think that in the darkness we cannot always tell those two apart - whenever we wrestle to discern God's will, we are most deeply wrestling with God, and in doing that we are always in God's arms, and we are already safely home.


We are going to take just a little bit of time now to do an abbreviated version of an African Bible study. I would like you to listen to the story of Jacob one more time as I read it to you, and then turn to a small group surrounding where you are and share single words or short phrases that have jumped out at you during the reading of the story. And I would ask that you listen to one another's words without comment or response for a couple of minutes, and then I will direct you do to something different after that.

Read the story again.

Please turn now to a small group around you and share single words or brief phrases that have come into your heart as you heard the story one more time.

(Pause for discussion)

We hear God speaking to us through our reactions to the words of Scripture, and we also use the minds that God has given us to think further and to discuss the ways in which the story touches us and touches all of our lives together. I want to give you a number of questions to consider in the same small group. They will be appearing on the screen. There are five of them, and I would like you in your group to choose one and discuss that question for a few minutes. If you have time before I call an ending to this discussion time, you can choose another, and I hope that you will also take them home with you and take them to your time of reflection with Scripture, and think about them further.

Questions:

1. What is a powerful thought or feeling that this story arouses in you?

2. What is a struggle in your own life that has felt dark and frightening?

3. What is a "limp" in your life that reminds you of wrestling with God?

4. What are gifts that we receive when we are willing to struggle?

5. What role does struggle have in our work together as the church?

(Pause for discussion)

I know there's not nearly enough time to explore all these things, but please try to conclude your discussion in the next moment or so.

As we draw this time of Bible study to a close, I would like to refer a book to you for your consideration - and I'm not getting any money at all for this reference; it's just a book that has been a faithful companion for me as I have been studying this. It's a book by Sister Joan Chittister called "Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope." It enabled me to do some thinking about this topic that I think has been nourishing for me and for all of those with whom I have studied.

Let's conclude this time with a word of prayer. Let us pray:

Lord God, hold us in your arms as we struggle. Show us the face of God in one another, and give us the courage to celebrate all of the many ways in which you bless us. Amen.