Given
A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger Gaines-Cirelli at St. Matthew’s UMC July 31, 2011, eleventh Sunday after Pentecost.
Texts: Genesis 32:22-31, Matthew 14:13-21
Today, we have heard one of my favorite stories from the Hebrew Scriptures. Here’s the scene: It’s dark. Jacob is all alone. He’s afraid of what awaits him in the future. The unknown, the knowledge of his own failures and mistakes, the reality of his vulnerability sit with him there in the dark at the ford of the Jabbok. And then he finds himself in a wrestling match. Even when he is wounded in the struggle he continues to hold on. Even when the offer is made to let go of the struggle, he continues to hold on. And in the midst of this he asks for a blessing. When asked to surrender his power by revealing his name, he says, “Jacob.” And, in his surrender, he is given a new name, “no longer Jacob, butIsrael”… Then, Jacob, still grasping for control, asks the name of his adversary. Again, to know and speak the name would give Jacob power or control. He is denied this. But he is given a blessing. When the struggle ends and the blessing is received, Jacob interprets what has happened: “I have seen God face to face and yet my life is preserved.” As the sun rises, Jacob—nowIsrael—limps away…broken, but blessed. And the one who limps into the future now bears the name of a people: Israel. This encounter was not just about one man.
The story of Jacob’s wrestling match is our story. It’s something that with only the slightest bit of imagination we can all relate to. We all face moments when we feel surrounded by darkness; we cannot see the way ahead; we feel afraid, vulnerable, aware of our temptations and failures. We struggle to gain some clarity or control. Like Jacob, we may yearn for whatever it is that attacks us in the night to name itself—so that we can feel some sense of power over it. And yet, like Jacob, we have a choice: we can either let the struggle go—allowing it to recede deep into the shadows of our lives—or we can surrender—saying “here I am…what have you got for me?!” We can either stay with the struggle, determined to hold on until what has been in the dark is brought into the light or we can try to deny the thing that dogs us in the night, send it away, cut it off…believing that if we just ignore it or deny it, then it will just go away…we won’t have to struggle or figure it out…we won’t have to take responsibility…
As with any choice, there are consequences. What we learn from the story of Jacob—which is itself the story of our ancestors in the faith, Israel—is that staying with the struggle, even when it wounds us, brings blessing.
There was once a child who discovered a cocoon in her backyard. She saw that the butterfly was trying to come out. Clearly the delicate creature was struggling. So she thought she would help. She gently peeled away bits of the cocoon to make it easier for the butterfly to emerge. When the creature did come out, soon after, it seemed disoriented…it fluttered about a bit but was unable to fly. It died in a matter of minutes. The girl was brokenhearted and didn’t understand. So she sought to discover what had gone wrong. With the help of a kind teacher she learned that the painstaking struggle of the butterfly to wrest itself from the cocoon was necessary for the creature to develop the strength to stretch its wings and fly. To bypass this struggle would mean that the butterfly would never be able to survive and thrive, would never be able to do for the world all the beautiful things butterflies do.
When we stay in the struggle, allowing ourselves to be broken and blessed by it, then we are given to the world changed—more of who we are. The “new name” we are given is never just for us—not if God is involved! The more we are willing to surrender to the power of God to change the way we walk, to change the way we live, to change us into more of who God calls us to be, the more we are able to offer ourselves to the world in its need, the more we allow God’s will to be done through us.
One of the mistakes we can make in thinking of our spiritual life is that it is something separate from the life we are living—that somehow, we have to “get” a spiritual life. The assumption here is that a spiritual life is a life free of confusion or struggle or complexity or contradiction—and so, obviously, it must be something different from what each one of us experiences each and every day. Thomas Merton, monk and renowned teacher of the spiritual life, once taught a class of earnest, would-be monks, “before you can have a spiritual life, you’ve got to have a life!” Parker Palmer, in reflecting on this teaching, says, “My guess is that Merton’s comment created a two-wave response in some of his listeners: ‘Wow, he’s right, I need to get a life! No, wait a minute, I’ve already got one—but it’s that god-awful mess I tried to leave behind when I came to the monastery!’” Palmer goes on to say, “Merton’s point, of course, is that we will find our spiritual lives in that mess itself, in its earthy realities, unpredictable challenges, surprising resources, creative dynamics. I think he would approve of the proposal that we add a new prayer to the well-known short list of ‘Thanks!’ and ‘Help!’ The new one is equally simple: ‘Bless this mess!’”[i] “Bless this mess!” This is what Jacob was asking for and it is what we can pray for as well. We don’t have to “get” a spiritual life, we have been given a life—and it is in the midst of that life, with all its messiness and struggle and beauty and wonder, that God works to change, transform, and bless us.
So what is the “mess” that calls for blessing in your life today? Who or what are you wrestling with in the dark these days?
Vocation or work situation?
Relationship?
Temptations? (lust, greed, despair, sloth…)
A troubling dynamic at home or at church?
God?
While your impulse may be to deny the struggle or to let it go, I think the word we receive today urges us to hang on…just sit with it, wrestle with it, surrender to the power of God—ask for a blessing through it! It may take months or even years of struggle and uncertainty before light dawns. But the promise is that insofar as you choose to hold on to God, your struggle will yield strength, beauty, the ability to fly, the opportunity to allow your own blessing to be offered back as a gift for the world.
In our Gospel story today, we see the disciples of Jesus faced with a problem, an unknown. Their first impulse was to send the problem away. After all, they were probably tired. They knew the problem of huge, hungry crowds was too big for them to do anything about. But Jesus urges them to stay connected. Jesus urges them to recognize that in their midst were all the elements they needed to address what they faced (“You feed them…”). And from what was perceived as no power and little resource came forth an abundance that can only be called miracle. Jesus looked at the challenge in the situation, the “mess,” took what was small, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to the disciples. And they, in turn, were able to feed the starving multitude. Out of challenge a blessing is given, despair and assumptions are broken, and something miraculous emerges that is given to others who are in need. Blessed, broken, given…This is the story of Jacob; it is the story ofIsraelwhose call was always to be blessed, broken, given… to be light for the world. It is the story of Jesus who didn’t deny or avoid the mess of the world, who didn’t walk away from or try to control those who were attacking him, but rather offered himself fully and freely in love. Out of the mess of human violence and fear, Jesus’ own life was blessed, broken, given… to be the life of the world. God wants to do this with you, too.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
