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Sunday July 31, 2005 - Proper 13, Year A

Nostalgia
is a powerful force.
When we look back over our lives and our worlds,
we see things with new insight
and perspective.
Things
that seemed so important at the time
now seem barely worth mentioning —
our first day at school, a pair of new shoes,
whether or not we were invited to a particular child’s birthday party.
And other events, chance meetings, a choice of investment, whether or not we stopped at a red light,
events that seemed inconsequential,
are far more important
because they affected the rest of our lives, even though we couldn’t have realized it at the time.

Nostalgia is powerful. Nostalgia is important. Without it, there would not have been a place called Peniel, a place called, “The face of God”.

Because that was the name
that Jacob gave
to the place where he wrestled all night with a mysterious stranger,
the name he gave because it was there, he thought,
that he had seen God face to face,
the name he gave because it was a night and an encounter
that he wanted
never
to forget.
It changed his name,
and it changed his life.

Jacob, as we know him in the Old Testament, is a slippery kind of character.
It wasn’t an accident
that his name meant “trickster”, “grabber”, “heel”.
With a name like that, Jacob had two choices:
to prove that it really was just about
the way he was born,
grabbing on to the heel of his brother,
or to live up to it in everything he did and said. And guess which way he decided . . .

Jacob is the one who tricked his brother Esau into swapping his rights as the first born for a bowl of lentil stew.

Jacob is the one who tricked his father into giving him the blessing reserved for the firstborn son, by pretending to be his brother Esau, and then fled for his life.

Jacob is the one who, even as he finally returned to make peace with his brother, sent his wife and family ahead of him to meet Esau, just for safety.

And Jacob is the one who, alone that dark night, waiting to meet his brother, waiting to see if perhaps his brother might forgive him, or perhaps might once again kill him, Jacob is the one who wrestled all night with a stranger, as he once again tried to win for himself a blessing.

Until now, everything had gone pretty much as Jacob planned it. He had taken all the precautions,
set up an escape route,
and was ready to face what the morning brought.

But then the unexpected happened, the unexpected intervened, the unexpected took charge, and Jacob was no longer in control.

Jacob’s lonely, uneasy sleep
was broken by a stranger who wants to fight.
And I suspect Jacob didn’t really want to fight,
didn’t want to fight his brother or any one else,
just to get on with living his life
in peace.

Alone there that night, as he began to fight with this stranger, he was probably scared, afraid, seeing all his plans at risk, the life he had anticipated sliding out of control like a roller coaster.

And so we found him
clutching at this stranger as his life
spun out of control.

Who was the stranger? Who was the shadowy figure, appearing in darkness, gone at dawn?
Was it his brother Esau, come to check him out? Was it a demon, an evil being, come to destroy him? Was it an angel, like the ones climbing the ladder in his dream so long ago,
when he first fled from his brother?
Was it just a figment of his imagination, the result of years of trickery climbing out of his subconscious to torment him?
Who,
or what,
was it?

Jacob, in pain, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do, wanting desperately to keep some vestige of control over what is happening, fell back on his old plea, his old obsession,
“Give me your blessing.” “Give me your blessing.”
At least that way he would know, if this man was friend or foe.

But there was no blessing, not at first, anyway. Instead, the stranger asked Jacob his name. And in doing that, asked Jacob
to reveal who he really was.
Because in the world of the Old Testament, a name was far more than just a series of letters used to identify someone. The name of a person was understood
to contain something of the character of the person who bore it,
to reveal who that person really was.
And knowing a person’s name
gave you power over that person.

The stranger asked Jacob his name, and Jacob gave it. Perhaps beginning to realise who this stranger might be, perhaps simply exhausted, Jacob gave his name, and gave over his power: he surrendered to the stranger.
And if this stranger had been just any enemy, that would have been the end of it, victory for him and defeat for Jacob.
And it would have served Jacob right,
trickster that he is.
But it’s not the end of the story. Instead, the stranger spoke, and gave Jacob a new name. No longer would he be known as the trickster, the grabber, the heel — now he would be known as Israel — God preserves, God rules, God provides. He would be called Israel, because he had striven with God and with humans. He would be called Israel, a new name, new power, new future.

But Jacob wasn’t instantly changed, he wasn’t instantly reformed into the character of his new name.
The patterns of a lifetime
were too hard to break.
Jacob continued as he always had,
trying to grasp hold of all he could.
“Tell me your name”, he cried, and might as well have added “so that I can have power over you”.
But that is more than the stranger could give. He had given to Jacob
a new name, a new identity, even new power,
but he would not give over the power to summon him at will. Instead the stranger blessed Jacob,
and disappeared.
And dawn came, and with it,
it dawned upon Jacob
who the stranger really was.

It was God.

Jacob had wrestled with God. He had faced God,
and God had touched him.
God had blessed him.
God had renamed him.
And Jacob was still alive
to tell the tale.

“The face of God”, a place called Peniel
is all that remained as the sun rose that morning,
as Jacob went to meet his brother.
All that remained of what was perhaps the most terrifying moment of Jacob’s life, the moment when he met God,
and nothing would ever be the same again.
The God that Jacob met, face to face, was not a kindly old man, a Santa Claus, who would give him the power and wealth which he had always dreamed of.

The God that Jacob met was more like an enemy than a friend, someone who shifted all the boundaries. One of my favorite preachers, Frederick Buechner, has described the God who Jacob met as “the beloved enemy”. The beloved enemy because, as he puts it, “before giving us everything, he demands of us everything; before giving us life, he demands our lives - our selves, our wills, our treasure.”

It reminds me of the New Testament story of the rich young ruler. He comes to Jesus and asks, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” And Jesus answers, “Follow the commandments, and give up everything you have and give it to the poor.” And in the stories of the calling of the first disciples of Jesus, we hear the unambiguous words of Jesus, “Leave all that behind you, and follow me.

It’s not just about giving up money, but about giving up security, giving up the reliance we have on the things around us and on our own strength, and turning to rely on God.

We live in a place and in a world that values who we are, and what we have. We value being in charge of our lives, being in control. But when Jacob met God, he wasn’t asked if he wanted to change. He wasn’t asked if he wanted a new identity. Meeting God, face to face, meant for Jacob to give up control, to follow God as a new person.

Meeting God, following Christ
is not something to be taken lightly.

A few years ago,
there was a song by Joan Osborne
called “One of us”.
And the words of that song
make me think of the questions Jacob might have asked
if he had been able to choose whether
he would meet God
face to face.

If God had a name,

what would it be?

and would you call it to his face

if you were faced with him in all his glory

what would you ask

if you had just one question…?

If God had a face,

what would it look like?

And would you want to see,

if seeing meant that you would have to believe

in things like heaven

and in Jesus and the saints and all the prophets…?

Joan Osborne ©1995Polygram

Jacob met God face to face, and it changed his life. And he could not afford
to ever forget it.

I began this sermon by talking about nostalgia.
Nostalgia is powerful. Nostalgia is important.
Without it, we have no history.
But we need more than nostalgia if we are to go on in life and continue to grow. Just looking back on a past encounter with God is not enough. Unless we allow God to confront us, to change our lives, we are no longer obeying Jesus’ command, “Follow me”.

And the reality is, it’s really easy
to avoid meeting God. To fill our lives with busyness. To not make the space
to listen to God. To protect ourselves
from any chance of a life changing encounter with God.
It’s all too easy
to choose not
to look at God
face to face.
And God does have a face.
It is the face of Christ, the Christ that we meet in Scripture
the Christ that we meet in prayer.
And the question for us, the question that Joan Osborne asked in her song, and that Jacob might have asked
if he had the chance
is this:
Do we want to see God’s face,
if seeing means
that we might have to believe,
that we might have to take seriously
the reality of God,
and be prepared for that reality
to change us.

Will we make space
to see God’s face?
And will we let
God bless us?

Sermon ©Raewynne J. Whiteley 2005