Jacob is about to meet the one man he has most reason to fear. Esau is coming with four hundred men, and the last time the brothers spoke, Esau meant to kill him. Jacob does what a frightened, resourceful man does. He splits his camp in two so that half might survive, sends drove after drove of livestock ahead as a gift, and tells each servant exactly what to say. In the middle of all this he stops to pray, and the prayer is sincere. 10"I am not worthy of the least of all the deeds of steadfast love and all the faithfulness that you have shown to your servant." For a man who has spent his life managing outcomes, that is close to a confession. Then he goes right back to managing. The prayer does not stop the scheme.
That night, alone at the Jabbok, 24"a man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day." The narrator lets the sounds carry the scene. Jacob is ya'aqov, the river is yabboq, and wrestled is ye'avek, three words built from nearly the same letters, as if Jacob's own name were wrestling with the place and the verb. He has wrestled all his life, with Esau over a birthright, with Isaac over a blessing, with Laban over wages. Now there is no one to trick, no gift to send ahead, only Jacob, alone, holding on.
The man touches his hip and puts it out of joint with almost no effort, and Jacob still will not let go. His answer is the whole chapter in one sentence: 26"I will not let you go unless you bless me." Crippled and out of every trick he owns, the schemer finally does the one thing that works. He clings.
Then the stranger asks his name, and Jacob has to say it aloud. Jacob, the heel-grabber, the supplanter, the name that has run his life. Only then does the new one arrive. 28"Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed." He prevails, but not as he ever has before. He wins by holding on to someone stronger, where he used to win by outmaneuvering someone weaker. He names the place Peniel, 30"For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered."
The sun rises on a man who is limping. Centuries later Hosea looks back on this night and adds a detail Genesis leaves out: "he wept and sought his favor" (Hosea 12:4). The grip that would not let go was also weeping. Jacob walks away from the Jabbok weaker than he arrived and stronger than he has ever been, because the strength left in him is no longer his own.
Much of our praying runs beside a careful backup plan, as Jacob's did. Ask God to meet you as he met Jacob, close enough to wrestle, patient enough to let the struggle run all night if that is what it takes to bring you to a grip that will not let go until you are blessed.
Prayer
Father, we confess that our prayers are often followed at once by our own backup plans. Thank you that you do not leave us to our schemes. Meet us close enough to wrestle, and if it costs us a limp, let it be the kind that reminds us every day where our strength comes from. In Jesus' name, amen.