Ever notice that we usually encounter God and certainly encounter his transforming presence when we've obeyed his call to leave behind compromise and comfort?
Jacob-turned-Israel is an incredible story of transformation that occurs when he—after 20 years—finally leaves behind the relative comfort of his forefathers and the compromise of that pagan culture.
More than two decades before Jacob gets the gumption to head home, we find Jacob leaving his father’s tents and heading toward his mother’s ancestral home, with nothing but the blessings ringing in his ears. God meets him in a dream and promises those blessings are not empty—that the God of Abraham and Isaac is not confined to a plot of land. He promises to go with Jacob and return with Jacob and to make generations through him. When he arrives and falls immediately in love with Rachel, he works for Laban, her father, and his uncle, to secure her hand. God blesses Laban through Jacob, so Laban tricks Jacob into marrying Leah and keeps Jacob near for another year. And another. And another.
Jacob possibly loses sight of the return journey. Between the competition of the sister-wives and their vying for his affections, the behavior of his in-laws, and the city around him, Jacob lives surrounded by compromise and the relative comfort of city-dwelling for twenty years.
The older I get, the more I identify with Jacob. When surrounded by compromise, I am distracted from the journey as well. I avoid the wilderness. Like Jacob, I have even taken God’s favor and blessing for granted—or worse, assumed that God’s favor is a nod of approval for the compromise itself.
When Jacob and Laban negotiated for speckled and streaked lambs vs blemish-free lambs, Jacob employed his devious schemes of getting wealth. We know through modern science there’s no way to genetically modify an unborn calf by watering it one way or another. Jacob and his men didn’t know this. They employed superstition (at best) with a heart aimed at cheating (at worst). Then, when the lambs gave birth and increased Jacob’s wealth, they took it as God’s favor mixed with their own compromised, sinful ways. Jacob was blind to God's blessings, attributing them to his own schemes.
The danger of living surrounded by compromise is that we mistake God’s blessing and goodness, his longsuffering kindness to us as his tacit agreement with our sinful hearts. But when the Fear of the Lord draws near, it brings us the necessary wisdom. And this presence draws near to Jacob in the next bend of his story.
Jacob sees that his in-laws resent his wealth. God uses this moment to separate Jacob and his family from their surroundings. Jacob proposes to leave and his wives agree (no easy feat, considering that they are deadlocked in competition for Jacob’s favor) because they see they have no future and no inheritance left if they stay.
They sneak away from the city like cowards. When their deceit is discovered, Laban and his men pursue them, most likely with the intent to compel them back, but God intervenes. God warns Laban to deal carefully with Jacob. Laban has a taste of the Fear of the Lord and complies. He tells Jacob that although no one is overhearing their conversation, God is witnessing it. He doesn’t convert to God’s side or abandon his gods, he simply doesn’t want to incite this particular God’s anger, as evidenced by the words Laban says when he makes a covenant with Jacob:
“May the God of Abraham, the God/gods of Nahor, and the God/gods of their father judge between us.” - Genesis 31:53a
Jacob swears to the covenant, but not by the general, almost irreverent terms Laban uses when he lumps them all together. Instead, Jacob swears to the covenant “by the Fear of his father Isaac” (vs. 53b). This unique name for God is only found once, here when Jacob makes it crystal clear whose side he belongs to.
When they separate, Jacob continues his journey and chapter 32 opens with an oddity:
“So Jacob went on his way, and the angels of God met him. When Jacob saw them, he said, “This is God’s camp.” And he called the name of that place Mahanaim" (Genesis 32:1-2).
Mahanaim features later in Gideon’s story and when David flees from his son, Absalom—all interesting stories of tribes divided against each other, just as we see in Esau and Jacob’s story. But don’t miss the key: the angels of God met him. The very first thing God confirms to Jacob as he moves onward is that God is with him. Jacob sees a double camp: the first is God’s camp of angels (mahneh elohim) and the second is his human camp. Notice that he does not see them and does not meet up with them while in the city. It's only when he’s moved out of comfort and security to obey God that he reencounters God’s angels.
You would think that this vision of God’s messengers encamped near you would be bracing, but Jacob becomes afraid and distressed when human messengers bring the news that his brother, Esau, is coming with 400 men. He forgets the Fear of Isaac and fears man instead. So he makes some rather cowardly moves, dividing his flocks and servants into two camps to allow them to get away if Esau’s men attack. He then sends wave after wave of peace offerings made up of servants and animals, all meant to appease Esau (which may have worked). He then divides his possessions and family into two camps, ostensibly so one could escape if the other was attacked.
Still not satisfied he’s done all he can, he finally—in the dead of night—sends his two wives, two concubines, and all his children across the Jabbok river, while he alone remains behind.
It is possible that Jacob wanted some alone time, but far more likely he was continuing to act as he always has—within his powers of strategy, hiding his cowardly heart. Every man or woman reading this knows that putting women and children in front while the natural protector stays behind is a heinous act of cowardice.
Right after he sends the gifts to his brother and before he sends his family across the ford, he takes a moment to cry out to God in his distress, reminding himself and God of the promises God made to him at Bethel. He specifically prays, “Deliver me…from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau, for I fear him, lest he come and attack me and the mother with the children.”
He may have been cowardly, but he did the right thing by calling out to God. God had not left Jacob. Now, the God who changes us with his nearness would draw very close. So close, in fact, that God, in the form of a man (likely pre-incarnate Christ) and Jacob wrestle all night.
Genesis 32 says, “Then Jacob was left alone…”
You can almost hear the dramatic crescendo of all that has happened in Jacob’s life that has brought him to this moment: alone.
For me, this episode reveals again how God contends with those he loves—he must have loved Jacob very much! Jacob refuses to give up the fight, even after his socket is pushed out of joint, and desperately demands a blessing. Even now, he is grasping for an outcome he imagines he can bring about—if he wins this match, he thinks he will get the blessing and win the outcome he desperately desires.
God asks him what his name is—Jacob acknowledges his name, thereby acknowledging all it entails.
God renames Jacob to Israel, refitting him as a channel for the presence of God in the world. (See previous explanation on the meaning of Israel.)
Jacob responds by asking to know the name of the person he’s wrestled with all night. I’m not sure when Jacob figures out that he’s face to face with God, but the slight rebuke and almost sarcasm in the response, “Why is it that you ask my name?” makes it pretty clear God is saying, “Why ask my name? You know my name.” And, indeed, Jacob does. He knows he has seen God face to face, in human form, and lived to tell about it. He has met Isaac’s Fear and prevailed. Finally, God blesses him, and if he didn’t know who he was dealing with before this, he certainly knows now.
Jacob immediately crosses to his encamped family, and takes his rightful place at the head of them all, rather than the cowardly tail behind. He will continue to make mistakes, but he is no longer a coward. The Fear of the Lord has at last brought wisdom to Jacob, and with it, a good measure of humility.
He meets Esau and they are reconciled in a rather anti-climatic ending. For now, the 20-plus-year ordeal is over. Esau returns to his lands and Jacob-turned-Israel heads toward Bethel to make an offering to the God who has brought him back, as promised.
Jewish scholars believe the Patriarchs don’t presume to possess a God or declare “this God is my God” until their death, allowing their life to prove who they belonged to. It's left to the narrator to declare this for Abraham and Isaac. Scholars say that Jacob might have said "the Fear of Isaac" instead of "the God of Isaac" because Isaac was still alive, and still working out his "salvation with fear and trembling." God had already declared Himself "the God of Isaac" in Genesis 28, but perhaps Isaac had not been so forward.
Jacob breaks with this tradition when he sets up his first altar about a day’s journey from Bethel. He doesn’t wait until death to let others make a declaration about him. He declares things up front, calling the place of the altar: El Elohe Israel or “God, the God of Israel” or “God, the personal God of Israel.” Jacob has finally capitulated and declares whose man he is.
If we want to encounter God's transformational presence, we must leave comfort and compromise behind—no easy feat!
Grace enables us to surrender comfort and a compromised future.
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