So Jacob’s gifts went on ahead of him, but he himself spent the night in the camp.
Genesis 32:21 (NIV)

When I was studying and teaching on the life of Jacob and his family last fall, I looked forward to the discussion around Jacob’s wrestling match (Genesis 32:24-32), one of my favorite narratives in the Old Testament.  The intensity, vulnerability and mystery of that encounter have always intrigued me, especially since Jacob emerged from it with a greater sense of identity.   Of course, broken relationships make up the context of this scene. Jacob must eventually face his brother Esau, who he had betrayed years earlier.  In response, Jacob decides to send his possessions in an attempt to appease him.  I’ve looked at this text on a number of occasions, but this time, I was particularly struck by the notion that “Jacob’s gifts went on ahead on him, but he himself spent the night in the camp”  It’s as if the gifts served as some kind of shield for Jacob, a means of protection from the wrath to come.  But God then turns Jacob’s scheme on its head. As a result of sending his gifts, servants and family members ahead, Jacob is left alone to face not his brother, but himself.  And so, the wrestler appears and the wrestling begins.  The next day, Esau greets Jacob not with a chokehold, but a hug.  Perhaps he’s had his own wrestling match. In the end, grace prevails.

As fascinated as I was with this study when I shared it with my class, I had this sinking feeling that I would have to enter into this text like I never had before.  As much I appreciate Jacob’s journey, I wasn’t trying to hang out with him like that.  It’s one thing to be a spectator in a wrestling match, it’s quite another to find yourself thrust into the ring.  But in an age where celebrity status, constant busyness, and social isolation are such temptations for ministry leaders, I have to yield to the necessary wrestling if I am to live and serve with integrity and wholeness.  So in this phase of my life, I’m confronting my tendency to define my value by what I do, what people think of what I do, and how “productive” I am.   This is not to say that I don’t value good stewardship of my gifts, but my identity needs to be rooted in the Giver so that my “gifts” are actually gifts, God-breathed and grace-filled.   What’s more, I don’t want my gifts to be a shield that blocks me from experiencing life-giving community.  In her book Stories from Inner Space: Confessions of a Preacher Woman and Other Tales, Rev. Dr. Claudette Copeland wisely observes that we are often “more comfortable with our assignments than our relationships.”

So what does this mean for me going forward?  Both of the hats I wear (minister and career advisor) involve speaking and “wordsmithing.”  So quite often, I’m thinking and praying about what to say and how to say it.  But what would it look like to have Sabbath spaces, in the presence of God and community, where I can just be?   With nothing particularly profound, clever, or witty to say.  Wrestling and resting. Giving and receiving.  Letting grace prevail.

Your Call: Is there a situation in your life that has resembled Jacob’s wrestling match?  As you make the most of your God-given gifts, how do you maintain a commitment to integrity and character?  Do you have a community in which you are embraced for who you are and not merely defined by your giftedness?