Delivered at Bethel United Methodist Church in West Greenville, South Carolina on October 13, 2013.
I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.
Comments are always welcomed.
Traveling with a Limp
Audio Version
The same night [Jacob] got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children, and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had. Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket; and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. Then he said, "Let me go, for the day is breaking." But Jacob said, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me." So he said to him, "What is your name?" And he said, "Jacob." Then the man said, "You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed." Then Jacob asked him, "Please tell me your name." But he said, "Why is it that you ask my name?" And there he blessed him. So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, "For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved." The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.
Genesis 32:22-31 (NRSV)
Genesis 32:22-31 (NRSV)
Although the names change
Inside we're all the same
Why can't we tear down these walls
To show the scars we're covering?
From "Inside Us All" by Creed
There is a famous poem in which the poet dreams that she is walking on a beach with God. As she walks, she sees scenes from her life flashing across the sky in front of her, and in each of the scenes she sees trails of footprints in the sand. She begins to notice that in the happier scenes from her life there are two sets of footprints and that in the darker scenes there is only one set of footprints. She reaches the conclusion that, in the darker scenes from her life, the single trail of footprints is her own, and she asks God, "Why, when I needed You most, You have not been there for me?" God replies, "The times when you have seen only one set of footprints, is when I carried you."1
The "Footprints" poem reminds us that the journey of faith has both mountaintops and valleys. There are times when we feel as though we are walking through life hand-in-hand with God. There are other times when we feel as though we are are walking all alone while God is nowhere to be found, and it's only when we look back on these times that we understand that God was closer than we realized.
And then there are times in our lives when the journey of faith does not seem like a walk on the beach at all. In fact, sometimes the journey of faith seems more like a wrestling match.
Jacob had always been a man who wrestled his way through life. The first person with whom he locked horns was his twin brother Esau. While it's not uncommon for brothers to wrestle with each other, Jacob and Esau started wrestling in utero. When Esau was born, Jacob came out of the womb immediately afterward because he was clutching Esau's heel.2
In Jacob's day and time, it was the firstborn son who received special blessings, but Jacob, who would not settle for second best, repeatedly wrestled these blessings away from Esau. Once when Esau came home famished after a hunting trip, Jacob refused to share the food he was preparing until Esau surrendered his birthright to him.3 Another time, when Esau expected to receive a special blessing from his father, Jacob disguised himself as Esau and tricked their nearsighted father into giving him the blessing instead. Esau, who was left with a lesser blessing, finally had enough of being ripped off by his brother and resolved to kill him. Jacob was forced to run away to his mother's homeland of Haran to escape Esau's wrath.4
In Haran, Jacob began a long-term wrestling match with Laban, the man who would become his father-in-law. Jacob agreed to work for Laban for seven years in exchange for his daughter Rachel's hand in marriage. Laban then tricked Jacob into marrying the wrong daughter, and Jacob ended up working for another seven years so that he could marry Rachel as well. Later on, Jacob and Laban struck an agreement to divvy up Laban's livestock based on the color of the animals. Jacob then used selective breeding to ensure that he ended up with a flock that was larger and healthier than Laban's. Jacob fell out of favor with his in-laws, and the time came came for him to return home with his family and his livestock.5
As Jacob heads home with his family, remembering all the times he wronged his brother years earlier, he realizes that he will finally have to face Esau once again. He sends some of his servants ahead of him to tell Esau that he is coming, and the servants return, saying that Esau is coming out to meet him... with four hundred men. Jacob prays to God for mercy, sends Esau some of his flock as a peace offering, and begins to prepare for the worst.6
Nervous, Jacob sends his family across the river, intending to spend the night by himself. A mysterious stranger shows up, and somehow Jacob finds himself locked in combat with him. The stranger knocks Jacob's hip out of joint, but Jacob will not give up the fight. The two grapple all night, and at dawn the stranger says to Jacob, "Let me go, for the day is breaking." Jacob replies, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me." The stranger asks, "What is your name?" Jacob tells him his name, and the stranger says, "You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed." The stranger blesses Jacob but refuses to reveal his name.
Jacob walks away, limping.
So who – or what – was this seemingly random traveler who showed up and engaged Jacob in combat? After the encounter, Jacob names the place Peniel, saying, "I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved." This would imply that Jacob actually wrestled with God. In fact, the idiom wrestling with God has its origin in this story. The prophet Hosea interprets this story somewhat differently, saying that Jacob "strove with the angel and prevailed."7 Perhaps the wrestler was not actually God, but instead a messenger from God. I ask, what else might Jacob have been fighting that night as he wrestled with his otherworldly sparring partner? Maybe Jacob was wrestling with the man he had been in the past; after all, he was on his way to face the consequences of his actions.
Regardless of the identity of Jacob's mysterious sparring partner, Jacob's story reminds us that we all face our own struggles. We wrestle with the other people we meet on life's journey. We wrestle with the expectations that people have for us. We wrestle with the past, with the mistakes we have made, and with our baggage. We wrestle with our bad habits, hangups, character flaws, and moral failings. We wrestle with our places in the world. We wrestle with our shadows, in other words, those parts of ourselves that we try really hard to pretend don't exist. And yes, sometimes we even wrestle with God, because some life lessons can only be learned the hard way.
Alluding to the story of Jacob's wrestling, Episcopal priest Barry Taylor once said that "one of the truest pieces of advice" he ever received is to "never trust someone who doesn't have a limp."8 As Christians, we have a reputation for being phony. We don't like to let people catch us limping, figuratively speaking, lest anyone finds out that we actually have personal struggles.
It is understandable that Christians would put on an act for others, for, in so many congregations, it seems as though image is everything. Many churches stress the importance of exhibiting a Christian testimony with one's day-to-day life. Each of us must live a life above reproach, so that we might light the way for nonbelievers. If we fail, we will bring Christ's name down and tarnish the reputation of other Christians. Some congregations up the ante, for certain moral failures will get a person shunned or excommunicated. In some congregations, those who backslide are subjected to harsh and humiliating church discipline procedures if they do not want to leave the church.9 The lesson we learn as Christians is that we must hide our sins, cover up our struggles, and admit to no personal failures, or else be judged by a jury of our peers.
It is true that those outside the Church see our testimony in our behavior, and many receive a troubling message: "If you don't have your act together, then the Church might not be for you." This is the wrong message for a community called to proclaim "the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit."10
We all face personal struggles even though we hate to admit the fact. When struggling people within the Church look around and find no one who bears the signs of struggling – no one who walks with a limp – they feel as though they are all alone in their struggles. The Christian rock band Casting Crowns laments this sad reality in their song "Stained Glass Masquerade."
So with a painted grin
I play the part again
So everyone will see me
The way that I see them
Are we happy plastic people
Under shiny plastic steeples
With walls around our weakness
And smiles to hide our pain?
I play the part again
So everyone will see me
The way that I see them
Are we happy plastic people
Under shiny plastic steeples
With walls around our weakness
And smiles to hide our pain?
I suspect that, as the song implies, every week many a Christian puts on his Sunday best, goes to church, greets everyone boisterously, and sits in a pew with a pious expression on his face, all the while feeling like the most screwed-up person in the sanctuary.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says,
Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, "Let me take the speck out of your eye," while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.11
At first, it might seem as though Jesus is simply calling us not to be hypocritical, but I think that Jesus is saying a lot about our personal problems – which He compares to debris in our eyes – and about the struggle to overcome our personal problems. People who have never experienced the pain of having debris in their eyes are utterly incapable of relating to people who are afflicted with that problem, and people who won't even acknowledge the debris in their own eyes have no business trying to get the debris out of other people's eyes.
Jesus is not saying that we should not call a sin what it is, nor is he saying that we should not reach out to people who have personal problems. Jesus is saying that we need to address our own problems before we concern ourselves with the lives of other people. I think that sometimes we focus on the faults of others in an attempt to distract ourselves from our own faults. I think that some of the appeal of tabloid talk shows like The Jerry Springer Show and Maury is the opportunity to look at someone else's problems and say, "Thank God I'm not that person!" The word Jesus uses – hypocrite – is derived from the Greek word hupokritēs, which means "actor."12 If we want to help people who are struggling, then we must first drop the act and be honest about our own struggles.
Jesus says that it is only after we have removed the debris from our own eyes that we can help other people remove the debris from their eyes. If we truly want to help other people, then we must have empathy: we must be able to understand other people's feelings. If we cannot relate to the feelings of shame associated with a person's problem and if we cannot relate to the struggle to overcome such a problem, then we cannot truly empathize. For example, it is quite easy for non-smokers to judge people who smoke, but someone who has never suffered from an addiction has no idea how difficult it is to quit smoking. In the words of Henri Nouwen, "It is an illusion to think that a person can be led out of the desert by someone who has never been there."13
Sometimes we will come across people in this life who are going through struggles that we have never experienced. We must do our best to listen to them and to place ourselves in their shoes, but that might not always be possible because all of us come from different backgrounds and live with different circumstances. Jesus says,
Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get.14
We do well not to judge people who are struggling, for we just might discover that we would make the same choices if placed in the same situation.
When we are willing to travel with a limp, we are able to reach out to other travelers who are struggling, not as seemingly perfect people who patronize broken people, but as sisters and brothers who have faced similar struggles on life's journey. The words "Me too." can be some of the most meaningful words a person can hear. Rob Bell writes,
When you're struggling, when you are hurting, wounded, limping, doubting, questioning, barely hanging on, moments away from another relapse, and somebody can identify with you – someone knows the temptations that are at your door, somebody has felt the pain that you are feeling, when someone can look into your eyes and say, "Me too," and they actually mean it – it can save you. When you aren't judged, or lectured, or looked down upon, but somebody demonstrates that they get it, that they know what it's like, that you aren't alone, that's "me too."15
Perhaps the only true healer is a wounded healer.
Once, when Jesus was criticized for the company He chose to keep, He said, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners."16 It would only make sense that Jesus, who was calling people to turn from their selfishness and to love their neighbors as they loved themselves, would choose followers who would be good examples for others; counted among Jesus' own disciples, however, were crooks and terrorists.17 Just imagine how horrible it would be if our only examples in the faith were seemingly perfect people. We would never be able to live up to the standard they set for us!
I would go so far as to say Christ intentionally selected disciples that He knew would fail at times. Jesus knew that James and John would lust for power within His Kingdom. He knew that Peter would deny Him in fear for his life. He knew that Thomas would doubt Him. He knew that Judas would betray Him. And He knew that they would all abandon Him when He needed them the most. Jesus did not choose disciples who would never struggle: Jesus chose disciples who would struggle and prevail. Jesus knew that James and John would let go of their ambition. He knew that Thomas would become a man of great faith if he was shown a little patience. He knew that Peter and the others would return to Him and remain loyal to the point of becoming martyrs themselves. I believe that even Judas could have prevailed in his struggles if only he hadn't given up on himself. The Disciples struggled in their faith, walked away limping, and continued to struggle, so that imperfect people like you and I would have imperfect examples to whom we can relate.
In the book The Irresistible Revolution, Shane Claiborne tells the story of a youth pastor who took his youth on a retreat. On the way to the site, the van got a flat tire. The spare tire was bad; there were no tools with which one could repair the tire; and rain was pouring down. The youth pastor completely lost his cool: he started yelling, kicked the tire, and used some words that one should not use in polite society – right there in front of the youth. He managed to get the van moving, and they all went on to the retreat site. That weekend, one of the youth, a tough young man from the wrong side of the tracks, decided to become a Christian. Why? He realized that if his short-tempered, screaming, cussing youth pastor could be a follower of Christ, then maybe he could follow Christ too.18
The Church was not meant to be a place where we hide our struggles and pretend to be perfect. The Church is meant to be a place where we bring our struggles out into the open so that we might find healing together. St. James writes, "Confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed."19 If we are to take James' instruction seriously, then the Church must be a place where it is safe to be transparent. The Church must be a place where people are free to walk through the doors with a limp, a place where judgment and shame are not welcome. Judgment says, "You don't belong here"; shame says, "I don't belong here"; but Christ says, "You all belong here."
The Church was not meant for perfect people, for Christ came "to call not the righteous but sinners."
Thanks be to God.
Notes:
- The Official Footprints in the Sand Page
- Genesis 25:21-26
- Genesis 25:29-34
- Genesis 27
- Genesis 29-31
- Genesis 32:3-21
- Hosea 12:4 (NRSV) emphasis added
- Barry Taylor, Tripp Fuller, Peter Rollins, and Bo Sanders. "Revelation of Darkness LIVE Event: Taylor’s F-it Theology, Rollins reaches behind the curtain." Homebrewed Christianity Podcast, 05/08/13. (Warning: This podcast episode contains coarse language.)
- Matthew Paul Turner shares one story here.
- Taken from 2 Corinthians 13:14 (NRSV)
- Matthew 7:3-5 (NRSV)
- Wiktionary: Hypocrite
- Henri J. M. Nouwen. The Wounded Healer: Ministry in a Contemporary Society (Second Edition). 2010, Image Doubleday. p. 78
- Matthew 7:1-2 (NRSV)
- Rob Bell and Don Golden. Jesus Wants to Save Christians: A Manifesto for a Church in Exile. 2008, Zondervan. pp. 151-152
- Mark 2:17 (NRSV)
- I'm referring to Matthew the tax collector and Simon the Zealot.
- Shane Claiborne. The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical. 2006, Zondervan. p. 257
- James 5:16 (NRSV)
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