Wrestling with God

Well I am about to go on holiday and decided that today's sermon might also be today's blog. Little to do with running other than running is one of the things that I wrestle with. If you don;t want to read you can listen, I have included a link to something new that we are trying - sermons by podcast!

http://web.me.com/andrew.m.jackson/Wonford_Methodist_Church_Podcasts/Podcast/Entries/2011/7/31_Rev_Mark_Gilborson_-_31st_July_2011.html



Wrestling with God - Genesis 32:22-31

Saturday afternoons – with Grandad, pipe smoke, black and white TV, tea made with sterilised milk, chips from the chip shop – wrestling on the telly – Big daddy, the dynamite kid, the masked Kendo Nagasaki, giant Haystacks to name but a few.

On a Sunday afternoon the wrestling moves would be practiced on my dad on the lounge floor: the Boston crab, drop kick, full and half Nelson, well I say practiced, thankfully the moves were never executed properly, no one actually got injured – yet there is that close contact something enjoyed by parent and child throughout the generations. I can even say that I won on occasions though at the age of 7 I think my father may have let me win!

If you look at the history of wrestling you will see that it is as old as the hills dating more the 15000 years depicted in caves paintings, mentioned in ancient literature and portrayed in stone bronze. There is something, almost instinctive about pitting one person’s strength against another, often just for fun or sport. Indeed at next year’s Olympics there will be 344 athletes, some of them women competing with 18 medals up for grabs – literally by wrestling.

Today’s lectionary reading gives us a puzzling picture of Jacob who literally wrestles with God. Throughout history so much has been written about this ancient story. For those who are reading the Bible in a year, it was one of the early stories, those of us doing the DISCIPLE course have encountered it too. When we read the OT or Hebrew Bible there are many texts that we have to wrestle with, we have to tussle with, until we hear God’s voice and receive God’s blessing not just in our understanding but also in the process of working hard – wrestling.

For Jacob here is a story of tenacity, a never give up, a do or die, grappling that lasted until daybreak, an exhausting clinch between Jacob and God, human and divine. We read that Jacob did leave with the blessing that he held out for yet in that process, in that battle there was injury, for Jacob left with a mark, he would always be reminded of that day as he literally limped away.

It seems that Jacob wrestled for much of his life, he actually starting wrestling before he was born - with Esau in his mother’s womb Gen 25:22 says ‘the children struggled together’ Jacob lost that battle to be born first but he didn’t give up, he held onto his brother’s heel, grappling till the last. He wrestled with his family again cheating his father and gaining his brother’s inheritance. He then Wrestled with Laban in search of the hand of Rachel, of course later he gets a taste of his own medicine struggling to keep his own sons in order!
But what can Jacob’s wrestling with God say to us today?

As I speak now not even ten days have passed since that appalling event in Norway. One of the most difficult questions we face as Christians in today’s world is ‘why does God let evil happen’, the technical term is ‘theodicy’ – is God unable to act in the face of such evil or if he is able is he willing? It seems that as I have read more and more of the Hebrew Bible in recent weeks that I see a God desperate to teach his children that there is a better way, if only they would listen to his voice, if only they would follow his ways, if only they would seek his face if only... It seems as though it is when we think we know best, when we make our reasoning, our rationale, our stomachs, our love lives, our ambition, our bank balances – when we make these our Gods that the order God created is shifted and things go awry.

As we wrestle with the knowledge of this event in Norway, the murder of innocents, that face of inhumanity - what sense might we ever make of such an atrocity? We know that this will leave a scar on the face of Norway, a blight on its consciousness, the wound, the limp is obvious but can there ever be blessing?
Maybe it takes time to understand the actions of the past. Maybe now all that we can draw, that we might start to understand as good is the dignity of the Norwegian people steadfast in their belief that justice and order and a right way of living can never be shattered through any evil act. Maybe in the face of the chaotic, anarchic, madness of one man there might be a response like that of a Norwegian politician who said 'If one man can show so much hate, think how much love we could show, standing together.'


Sometimes; no often, as we wrestle with life’s presenting issues we find that the answers don’t come as easy as the questions and the questions come thick and fast, we ask ‘why God?’, ‘why did this happen?’, ‘why was my prayer not answered’, ‘why the suffering, why the heartache?’ Why?

Jacob held on and held on – not giving up, despite the pain, the anguish, the exhaustion he must have felt he would not let God go, this was something worth persevering with as if his very being, his very life depended on it.
Of course there are times in each of our lives when we struggle, with illness, with sin, with prayers that are not answered as we hope despite our faith and despite our desperation. Times when we feel as though we are alone dealing with things from the past, hoping for things for the future. Maybe the critical question is this - do we wrestle, do we struggle believing that somewhere in that struggle, eventually we will see blessing or do we see it simply and only see it as unwanted pain? It seems that when life is a struggle there is a danger that we can feel the wound from our wrestling all too easily and fail to wait, hold on for what God wants to bless us with.

So often we can give up and let go believing that life has gotten the better of us rather than see that our trials might be a blessing, that our wrestling might lead to a deeper understanding of God’s love for us and his grace outpoured on us, that our struggles can end in blessing or at least can be a process where blessing can be found.

May we also remember that we our ‘struggling’ experience is not new, we are in good company, those is history who have struggled for right, for freedom – Mandela, Martin Luther King, Ghandi, even Rosa Parkes ‘small’ struggle – refusing to get off that bus until she got her blessing, and through the pain she did. In our Romans reading we have Paul struggling with his very people, trying to understand their waywardness and he does so ‘with sorrow and unceasing anguish in his (sic) heart’. And may we not forget Jesus’ struggle, with the devil in the wilderness, with his disciples in their understanding, with the Pharisees in their questioning, with himself in Gethsemane and upon the cross with life itself, being wounded unto death.

I am aware Tragedy and violence and the struggle for the best in the face of the worst do not belong just to distant shores, even in our very own Wonford we are trying to make sense of a murder a stone’s throw from the place we worship. How can we make sense of such a senseless death let alone the lives of those ruined by this incident? The response of the community in placing flowers at the boarded up door is something that they can do, something to show respect, something to show love, telling all who passed by that this did matter. It seems so small and yet for those who lay the flowers and for those of us who pass by, it is a start.

In the last few days I was told a story of a situation that was really rather unpleasant for the person involved and not their fault or of their making – when that person relayed that story to a friend the friend consoled the person, but there was nothing that could be done – the event was past and could not be changed. Instead of bemoaning the ‘world gone wrong’ mentality, that so many of us can so easily fall into, the friend decided that they would try to add a little more good to the world, to find new ways of being generous. Not to wrestle with something that was past and beyond the possibility of intervention – instead, in small ways start to intervene now.

What is there here for us? Jesus who came to serve rather than be served, Jesus who put his very being at risk, who wrestled in the ‘liminal’ places – the spaces between heaven and earth, life and death, justice and mercy, love and hatred, wrestled that there might be mercy, peace and blessing.

May we be a people who do not rest easily, who do not bemoan that which is past without a willingness to strive for blessing for that which is yet to be, not just for ourselves but for all. May we be a people who though injured by life’s trials also be a people who, in the process, seek to discern the will of God, the possibilities of good.

And in the struggle, as we wrestle may we be a people who seek God’s face knowing that he seeks ours.

A rose, my A.N.E Other name...

I had the benefit of studying Romeo and Juliet at school, and much of it I still enjoy. The following passage has been used to suggest that it is not what we are called that is important but what we are.

JULIET:
'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.

Far from it for me to take issue with the bard but!

I was recently reading a running magazine (how sad!) and an article about at what stage you can actually call yourself a runner. I have already joked that I am actually a jogger but this is a moot point. At what level, personal or competitive can someone actually call themselves a runner? I find the same question with my weekly Disciple course, do I start the journey as a disciple or is that where I end up?

The article in the running magazine concluded that the only achievement you need to attain in naming yourself 'a runner' is to actually start running. The mental decision and the physical enacting of that will is what defines you, to misquote Descartes 'I run therefore I am a runner'. Unlike Shakespeare's rose whose sweetness is not impaired nor enhanced by its being named it seems that being called a runner has a benefit, it is an intrinsic part of mobilising the whole being into a new mindset.

I remember undertaking a different Christian discipleship course last year where we were told that for too long the church has labelled people 'sinners' what do 'sinners' do? They sin! If I put myself down for long enough and tell myself that I am bad then it will not take me long to really start to believe it and act more that way. The course reminded us that the Bible often calls Christians 'saints', maybe by adopting this more positive mindset might we be inspired to live up to that calling.

So I am a runner! Yes there you go I said it, the cat is out the bag, I now must live up to what that means.

Oh and by the way last week I bought myself a bicycle - having now ridden it I think that means I am also a cyclist!

No place like home?

It was while I was sat in Merville, France, whilst attending a 3 day 'missioner conference' in a seminar exploring the role of the established church in mission, it was then that I started to reflect on the Wizard of Oz! I came to the conclusion that it was almost a treatise for atheism. Dorothy's transcendent 'other' and colourful place was in fact a dream. Reality was mundane, black and white. The deific wizard pronounced a fraud, hiding behind a fake mysticism and shrouded in myth. The 'prayers' of tin man, scarecrow and lion were answered by understanding that what they desired was already within them, they were self sufficient and just needed to believe more strongly in themselves. Dorothy's conclusion 'there is no place like home' an affirmation of the tangible in juxtaposition to the dream.

I love France, I have always joked that I will retire there. This conference was a great opportunity to meet people doing similar work to me, listen to some great speakers, develop ideas and also time to think, to be. For me my life now life is different because I want/need to fit running into my schedule and so I ran in France - twice.

I am also reading a book about running 'Why we run: A story of Obsession By Robin Harvie http://www.amazon.co.uk/Why-We-Run-Robin-Harvie/dp/1848541767. When it comes to running he is a bit of a lunatic running 120+ miles a week. The only way he could achieve this was to catch a train, each day, 20 miles from where he lived and ran home, he had no other choice but to run home. Harvie believes that it is the arrival home that compels us, draws us like a magnet. It is the 'cold beer and hot bath' that persuade him to keep running. I am forced to ask myself questions: Which is the reality? which one is home?

I return to France soon, this time on holiday, like the end of a run is this annual holiday a reward for my year's hard work - my 'cold beer and hot bath'? My technicolor interlude? My glimpse of heaven? Or is it a reminder that life's experience are often in the mundane, hard work of day to day. My recent reading of Leviticus as part of my Disciple group suggests that God was found in the routine, the earthiness of everyday life - immanence and well as transcendence.

Maybe then my destination is not about arrival, maybe home is actually where I am, in the journeying. Of course the end of the rainbow is always just out of reach.