“Blessed Struggle”

Jacob’s deceit is finally catching up with him.  No more running away. No more hiding from the consequences of stealing his brother’s birthright. No more lying to himself about who he is or what he’s done. It’s time for Jacob to face the music.

Among the most pivotal scenes in all of scripture, even biblical scholars do not agree on the identity of Jacob’s assailant.  Was it Esau? An angel? Jacob’s shadow? God? Or, possibly, all of the above? 

No matter how we understand who Jacob’s opponent is, one thing is clear – Jacob is not the same after their encounter. He’s a changed man, ready to face Esau and the consequences of his deceit. 

Should we be so brave.

Few of us carry the extent of unresolved guilt that Jacob carried.  But, none of us are without character flaws.  None of us are without a shadow side to our personality, which comes from trying to stuff down or run away from our thoughts and feelings about painful experiences.  

For example, as children we don’t know what to do with our hurt feelings from being ignored, slighted, or disregarded.  As children, we don’t often know what to do with our fears – that we will be the last one picked for kickball, or that we won’t get invited to the popular kid’s birthday party, or we won’t get high enough grades to get into the college of our choice.  Ordinary childhood is filled with what can feel like high stakes, emotional Alamos that often find their way into the shadow side of our adult personalities. And some of us have even more traumatic experiences as children that can haunt us for the rest of our lives. 

God knows this.  God sees this.  

And sometimes God will show up in the most painful way so that we can finally stop running from the truth of who we are, what we feel, or what we have done. 

For example, maybe you have heard someone say – or even said yourself – “This illness was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

The first time I heard those words come out of someone’s mouth was in 1988.  I was working at St. Martin de Porres Shelter, an overnight refuge for 200 men over the age of 50 near skid row in Seattle.  One of my colleagues, Doug, was the most handsome, kind, and compassionate presence in the shelter. 

At the beginning of the month, when the older gentlemen received their Social Security checks, they were often prey for the younger men, who would “roll” them—beat them up and take their money.  Doug tended the beaten men’s wounds – physical and emotional – with care.  I had never seen a man be so gentle and kind. 

Tragically, just as the AIDS epidemic hit the front pages, Doug was diagnosed.  It was a different time for gay men then.  They were less likely to live openly and proudly.  Doug confided that he often met men in one of the city parks or along a section of highway north of the city.  He hated living a secret life.  

For Doug, AIDS was the assailant that forced him to face what he didn’t want to face, that forced him to admit to himself and to others that he was gay. As agonizing as living and dying with AIDS in the late 80’s was, Doug would tell you that his diagnosis freed him to be himself.  Yes, at first, he lost some friends and some family members. But, there was a lightness to his spirit that shone through even his worst days.  Though he would never wish what he experienced on anyone else, Doug also had a strong sense of God’s blessing on him when he got sick. 

In this community, we are not strangers to an unexpected diagnosis or challenge.  Many of us can relate to Jacob’s path through life – doing whatever is necessary to secure our futures, experiencing broken family relationships, falling head over heels in love, and building a legacy.  We understand why there are times in life we want to leave home or return home. And we often carry burdens over many years from our unresolved actions, unresolved feelings or unresolved relationships.  

But, there is all the difference in the world between a mindset that keeps trying to stuff our feelings, or trying to ignore our unresolved relationships and our unresolved actions; to just keep moving and think it will all be okay… There is a dramatic difference between that mindset and those moments, crossroads, when we can’t keep going like we’ve been going, when life comes to a standstill and we must finally face ourselves. 

God is with us in those harrowing moments. God is with us at the crossroads of our lives. But, are we open to what God is trying to show us about ourselves and our relationship with God when we are wrestling with something or someone in our lives?

Today’s scripture passage is a reminder that we ought not domesticate our God;

that we ought not see God as one who always makes us feel comfortable, peaceful, or at ease. Instead, God sometimes comes to trouble the waters, to wake us up out of the habituated patterns that deaden our souls,  numb our spirits, and close our hearts.  

This is a God who is willing to fight with us so that we can be healed. Such a God can handle our wrestling.  Such a God wants us to stop running from the truth of who we really are, what we really think, and what we feel. And we need not wait for the terminal diagnosis or tragedy to meet this God. 

Friends, we all wrestle in this life.  Sometimes we wrestle with parts of our personalities, with other family members, with the situations we find ourselves in, with the world as it is.  There is plenty for us to wrestle with.  

We can choose to try and wrestle with these things on our own.  But, that just leads to rumination and lost sleep.  

Or we can bring what we are wrestling with to God. Being willing to wrestle  is part of what it means to be in a real, healthy relationship. (It’s when we disengage with God or others that we’re in trouble. In 2026, one of our major problems is that we haven’t been willing to argue with those with whom we disagree, widening the division.)  

Like Jacob, we can meet this God in solitude, in prayer, in our dreams, and any time we recognize that it is time to stop running away from what is broken in our lives or broken in the world, and instead wrestle with what’s not working. We can insist, like Jacob, that God must bless  us.  

This is not being impertinent.  This is being honest and real with the One who made us, who knows that this world is fraught with all sorts of emotional and spiritual landmines; who knows that the journey of life is not easy, nor is it intended to be. 

In the year 2000, my brother, Dave, like our mother, was diagnosed with Huntington’s Disease, a progressive nuero-muscular disorder like Alzheimer’s and MS put together, something we had feared would happen when we were told as 13 and 11 year old’s that we had a 50/50 chance of inheriting it. The fear of Huntington’s Disease was the cloud that hung over both our heads for nearly 20 years.  I was fortunate not to inherit it. 

But, when Dave was diagnosed, I was beside myself – angry that this could be happening again to someone I loved. When he asked me to leave my position at Wellesley College and return home to upstate New York, so that he could live with me and my 8 year old son, Pete, I didn’t hesitate to say “yes.” But, I was terrified.  And I really let God have it. “If this is the journey you are going to send me, my son, and my brother on, you’d better be there. We need your help and blessing.”

And God blessed us.  From the time I moved home with Pete to live with Dave, until my brother died fourteen years later, God showed up again and again – mostly through angels, friends and family members, who were there when we needed them.  It wasn’t easy – but we also had wonderful times together – laughing around the family dinner table, playing every sport possible, watching every sport possible, traveling as much as possible to Dave’s favorite places.  Those years were deeply good and often immensely difficult.  And I would never trade them. They helped make me a better person.

I don’t know the inner workings of Glenn Nye’s heart that has led him to travel to Ukraine. I don’t know the conversations he had with his wife – the mother of his two young sons – about the risks involved with his mission. But, I can only imagine that there must have been some inner wrestling for both of them and wrestling between them.  And Glenn was wise enough to ask for a blessing.  Right here.  On this altar. Two weeks ago.  And when he gets to Ukraine, he will take the medals that were blessed here and give them to soldiers on the front lines, to bless them. 

God is our companion on the journey of life – the whole journey – not only when life is sweet and serene, but when we are disappointed, frustrated, guilty, ashamed, angry and fearful. When we are wrestling. 

What are you wrestling with?  Have you brought it to God?

Our God is there in your darkness, in your wrestling.  Don’t. Let. Go. Grab onto God and demand the blessing. Amen.

Sources: 

“The Limp and the Blessing,” Debie Thomas in Journey with Jesus, July 26, 2020

“Wrestling with our Demons,” Rabbi Sid Schwartz, December 2020.