I Don't Really Want to Wrestle

Genesis 32:22-31
First Reading for the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost (Year A)

We’re going to talk about a Kanye West song for a second. We’re not going to talk about Kanye the person so don’t get distracted. But I really enjoy his song “Follow God” off of Jesus is King. It’s the only song on that album that has really stuck with me. It’s on my running playlist because it’s one of those jolt of adrenaline tracks. It also was the song that knocked Lauren Daigle off the top of the Christian Songs chart and sat at #1 for 8 weeks. Imagine going back in time a few years and telling someone Kanye topped Christian radio for multiple weeks. Their head would explode and it would be like the 73rd craziest thing you would tell them about our current world. But I digress.

There is one line on “Follow God” that always jumps out at me whenever I listen to it: “Wrestlin’ with God / I don’t really want to wrestle.” My reaction is always something to the effect of “Same, Kanye. Same.” If we’re honest with ourselves, it is such a universal feeling. All of us feel like Jacob in the Bible sometimes. We find ourselves grappling with God over something that doesn’t make sense. When friends are diagnosed with cancer or we see someone we care about suffer, we wrestle over why bad things happen to good people. Or we read the news and see corruption flourish and we wonder why good things happen to bad people.

That wrestling is present in scripture. That’s one of the reasons that I appreciate the Bible so much. From Jacob to the Psalms to the Prophets to Jesus himself, there is a lot of wrestling with God. We want to know what is going on. We want to know where God is in the midst of all this. We want to know why things are happening the way they are. God seems to welcome that wrestling. We don’t always get answers and that is admittedly frustrating. But scripture does not shy away from those questions.

But there are many times I don’t really want to wrestle. It can be exhausting especially in a year that feels like a giant cage match in which you are not only wrestling with God but scores of other people who have tagged in. Some are honestly wrestling with God just like you and others are flying at you off the top rope with folding chairs. I’m wrestling with folks who are doubling down on dangerous conspiracy theories. Wrestling with individuals that put flags and monuments and nationalism ahead of hurting people. Wrestling with myself over whether I should wrestle. Wrestling. Wrestling. Wrestling. There are way too many people in the ring and, honestly, I want to rest. I don’t want to wrestle.

I look back at that Jacob story and I see the sun rising after a long night. After grappling through the darkness and injuring his hip, the headstrong son of Isaac said, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” That line resonates with me too. Jacob is blessed. He is given a new name because he strove with God and with humans. And thus I will grapple with and not let go of God, because I hope that there is blessing for me, for those around me in the wrestling. Sometimes I have to wrestle with God and I really don’t want to wrestle, but I don’t want to let go either. So I’ll try to hold on and hope.