Genesis 32:1–33:20

Original Meaning

Placating Esau (32:1–21)

THE CHAPTER OPENS with another indication that God is directing the events of Jacob’s return. Just as his dream twenty years earlier had led him to name a place Bethel (“House of God,” 28:17–19), so this second encounter with God’s messengers produces the name Mahanaim (“Two Camps”). Just as he recognizes two realities here, he had acknowledged the two at Bethel (the house of God and the gate of heaven joined by the stairway). Literarily, these two occurrences form what is called an inclusio. Inclusio occurs when two parallel events or phrases enclose a section and serve to set that section apart from what surrounds it. Here the inclusio of these angelic appearances sets apart Jacob’s time outside the land.

Mahanaim has not been located by archaeologists, but its general location is evident from the context in which it occurs. Besides serving as an administrative center for the government of Saul’s son (2 Sam. 2:8), David sets up headquarters there when he fled from Absalom (17:27). The town is also mentioned in Egyptian records as one destroyed by Pharaoh Shishak’s invasion during the time of Solomon’s son. The most common identification today is with Tell edh-Dhahab el-Gharbi on the northern bank of the Jabbok, about thirty-five miles east of the fords at the Jordan. There have been no excavations at the site, but surface surveys confirm it was occupied during this period.

Jacob decides that it is best to inform Esau of his return. He probably assumes that his father has died by now, though the text does not mention that (in fact, he has not yet died, 35:27). If his father has died, Esau may have come into the entire inheritance, Jacob’s status or whereabouts being undetermined. We find, then, that in Jacob’s initial communication (32:4–5) he makes three basic points.

• “I have been staying with Laban and have remained there till now.” Implication, “I have not been hiding, avoiding you, or sneaking around behind your back.”

• “I have cattle and donkeys, sheep and goats, menservants and maidservants.” Implication, “I am not coming to try to take anything from you. I have plenty. I am not going to try to trick you out of anything or lay claim to anything that you have acquired.”

• “I am sending this message . . . that I may find favor in your eyes.” Implication, “Why don’t we let bygones be bygones; forget the past and start over?”

This is a good start and a worthy gesture that Jacob reasonably expects will succeed. But the answer he receives makes him ill at ease in its ambiguity, for Esau is coming to meet him with four hundred men. Obviously Esau has also enjoyed some success, but it is disturbingly unclear whether his intentions are friendly or not. It is therefore not surprising to find Jacob in “great fear and distress” (32:7).

In these difficult straits we finally find Jacob resorting to prayer. The only prayer (if it can be called that1) previously recorded coming from Jacob’s lips was when he made his vow in 28:20–22. Here he begins by referring to his roots. Yahweh is the God who had directed and provided for Abraham and Isaac. He does not yet call him “Yahweh, my God.” The prayer is further compromised as the next sentence sounds a little whiny and can easily be interpreted as throwing God’s promise back in his face. He sounds as if he is collecting on a debt and that God needs to be held to his word.

Jacob is at his best in verse 10 as he acknowledges his unworthiness and God’s faithfulness in providing for his prosperity. That leads into his actual petition in verse 11: He wants deliverance for himself and his family. Unfortunately, however, rather than throwing himself on the mercy of God, verse 12 finds him again sounding as if he has to hold something over God’s head to persuade him to act on his behalf. If concern for God’s interests over one’s own interests were a criterion for the maturity of a prayer, Jacob’s would barely register on the scale. Yet at least he realizes something that is significant and that will eventually put him where God can do something with him: He cannot rely on his own skills to assure the safety of his family.

This realization, however, does not prevent him from doing all he can to secure an advantage for himself. The course he pursues shows all of the strategic planning we have come to expect from Jacob. In verses 13–21 he selects the gifts he sends to Esau:

220 goats

220 sheep/rams

30 camels plus their young

50 cows/bulls

30 donkeys

This gift is larger than towns were likely to pay in tribute to foreign kings.2 It would be sufficient for Esau to get a good start on a herding operation of his own or, probably more to the point, to reward any mercenaries in his employ who may have been anticipating booty. In addition to seeking Esau’s favor as a response to his generosity, Jacob plans three strategic advantages.

(1) The five distinct groups of animals arriving in succession will wear down the military readiness of Esau’s band. If they were planning an ambush, they would have to set it up each time a group arrives. When they discover that Jacob is not in the group, they would all gather again and proceed on their way. After five times it is unlikely that they are as alert for combat as they may have been at first. By that time Esau and his men will probably have given up the idea of an ambush altogether.

(2) As the gifts arrive, Esau becomes more and more encumbered in his travel. The animals will force him to move more slowly and will make his band much noisier. It will be difficult to take Jacob by surprise given the unavoidable cacophony from the livestock.

(3) As Jacob’s servants bring the gifts, they join the march of Esau’s band. How effective can any of Esau’s intended military strategies be if he has to cope with members of Jacob’s household mixed in among his own retinue of soldiers?

These tactics along with the divisions of his camp using the river as strategically as possible exhaust all of Jacob’s reserve, yet he still feels vulnerable to Esau’s attack. This is precisely where God wants him—feeling in need with no recourse left but to rely on God. Now the real struggle begins.

Bridging Contexts

CHANGE OF CHARACTER. In the Original Meaning section, we discussed briefly the implications that would attach to this pericope in the context of the ancient Near East. We must now add to this, however, the implications that would attach to this pericope in the context of the Pentateuch. There are two other occasions in the knowledge and experience of the desert generation of Israel, the stated audience of the Pentateuch, where God instructs someone to go somewhere, then intercepts them on their journey: Moses himself (Ex. 4) and the celebrity prophet Balaam (Num. 22). These are both difficult passages, but they can offer guidance to understanding Jacob’s experience.

The narrative of Exodus 4:24–26 is one of the most baffling in the Old Testament. We cannot discuss all the details here and could not resolve many of them if we did. Nevertheless, concerning the larger issue, W. Propp’s suggestion is defensible that the attack against Moses (and/or his son) is a result of the fact that Moses still has bloodguilt on him from the murder he committed in Egypt. This must be cared for before he can return to do God’s work.11 Consequently, Yahweh opposes him, not because he does not want Moses to go, but because there is an issue to be resolved before he gets there. Propp demonstrates that circumcision can be understood as serving an expiatory function (Lev. 12:1–5) and suggests that Midian was functioning as a sanctuary for Moses along the same principle as the later cities of refuge.

In the Balaam narrative in Numbers 22, it is likewise confusing why God gives the prophet permission to go (Num. 22:20), then is angry with him and blocks his way (22:22, 33). The answer is likely to be found in Balaam’s understanding of his role and importance. Balaam is accustomed to certain methods for procuring the prophetic words that he conveys to his clients (cf. 24:1). When the Lord tells Balaam that he should speak only what the Lord gives him, Balaam most likely still expects to use his patented methods. By speaking through the donkey God demonstrates that he has something entirely different in mind and that the delivery of the message will not depend in the least on this famous diviner’s mantic skills. Yahweh can open a dumb beast’s eyes and fill his mouth, so certainly he can manage to do the same with Balaam. This incident provides the evidence that it is truly Yahweh who is the source of the prophetic message, not a mercenary celebrity filled with his own self-importance.

In each of these three cases, the antagonism that the man experiences from God does not reflect a contradiction in God (telling them to go, then stopping them from going), but a contradiction that needs to be resolved in the man. God wanted Moses to go back to Egypt, but he had some baggage (bloodguilt) that God did not want him to take along. The opposition brought that to light and instigated Moses to address and resolve the problem. Likewise, God wanted Balaam to go and pronounce blessing on Israel. But Balaam also had some baggage that was not conducive to a proper understanding of what role he was going to play.

These are character issues, as was Jacob’s. The Lord is ready for Jacob to return to Canaan, but there is baggage that he cannot take. He cannot go in as he is. This has been the jeopardy that has accompanied Jacob since our first introduction to him. God is finally overcoming this obstacle.

The forerunner to modern chemistry was the medieval practice known as alchemy, in which scholars attempted to discover a process that would turn base metals into gold. In this passage God is involved in what we might call “human alchemy,” as he shows his ability to take base characteristics and turn them to gold.

The end of self-sufficiency. The character flaw to be resolved goes deeper than the inclination toward deception and manipulation. They are but symptoms of the more pervasive problem of self-sufficiency. We have all met people who do not need anybody or anything. They go through life with the attitude that they can handle anything that comes along. This characteristic is counterproductive to the development of faith.

On the banks of the River Jabbok, God finally finds Jacob in a situation in which his sense of self-sufficiency is crumbling. Jacob is unable to provide for the security of his family. It is one thing to put yourself in harm’s way with the hope that you can find your way out. Jacob has successfully navigated through the maze of rocky relationships with Esau, Laban, and his wives. But in those it was only his own health and welfare hanging in the balance. Now he has his whole family to think about, and he recognizes his inability to vouchsafe their security. This is what finally brings him to his knees. J. I. Packer eloquently describes the result:

That night, as Jacob stood alone by the river Jabbok, God met him. There were hours of desperate, agonised conflict, spiritual and, as it seemed to Jacob, physical also. Jacob had hold of God; he wanted a blessing, an assurance of divine favour and protection in this crisis, but he could not get what he sought. Instead, he grew ever more conscious of his own state—utterly helpless and, without God, utterly hopeless. He felt the full bitterness of his unscrupulous, cynical ways, now coming home to roost. He had hitherto been self-reliant, believing himself to be more than a match for anything that might come, but now he felt his complete inability to handle things, and knew with blinding, blazing certainty that never again dare he trust himself to look after himself and to carve out his destiny. Never again dare he try to live by his wits.

. . . The nature of Jacob’s “prevailing” with God was simply that he held on to God while God weakened him, and wrought in him the spirit of submission and self-distrust; that he had desired God’s blessing so much that he clung to God through all this painful humbling, till he came low enough for God to raise him up by speaking peace to him and assuring him that he need not fear about Esau any more.12

Reversal continued. In chapters 29–31 we observed how through reversal, God gave Jacob a taste of his own medicine. Reversal continues in the meeting with Esau. G. Wenham offers the details:

That Jacob himself recognises the injustice that he has done to Esau is very clear in chapter 33, where he tries to return the blessing he had illicitly acquired from Esau. He and his sons repeatedly bow down to Esau (33:3, 6, 7) just as Isaac predicted in the blessing he thought he was bestowing on Esau, “May your mother’s sons bow down to you”. He describes himself as Esau’s servant and Esau as his lord, again echoing the blessing formula, “Be lord over your brothers” (27:29; cf. 32:18, 20; 33:5, 8, 13, 14, 15). Even more striking is Jacob’s description of the droves of animals that he presents to Esau to placate him: “please accept my blessing which has been brought to you” (33:11). He is deliberately giving back to Esau the blessing which he had cheated him out of.13

Sometimes God must take away the things that we have gained ourselves in order to give us what he has to give. For some that is the only way that God will be acknowledged as the source of the blessings that he brings. An observation of C. S. Lewis’s that I have already cited once is worth reiterating at this point.

When [God] talks of their losing theirselves, he means only abandoning the clamor of self-will; once they have done that, he really gives them back all their personality, and boasts that when they are wholly his, they will be more themselves than ever.14

God’s new prominence. In the reunion conversation between Jacob and Esau, the prominent and recurring mention of God signifies the new Jacob. His children have been graciously given by God (33:5), and God has graciously provided wealth as well (33:11). Most important, however, is the reference to God that alludes to the experience of the previous night: “To see your face is like seeing the face of God” (33:10). This last is a link between the chapters that provides the key to the bottom line of this section. The old Jacob has prevailed with God and men; the new Jacob finds favor with God and men. Once the obstacle of Jacob’s character is resolved, the obstacle of conflict dissipates easily. Now that Jacob has become the man of faith that God wants him to be, he takes his rightful place as the covenant heir.

Contemporary Significance

WRESTLING ANGELS. What does it mean to wrestle with an angel? Most specifically, it refers to God’s overt actions to bring us to reform and transformation. We can resist and therefore stubbornly prevail in our sinfulness. Or we can take hold of him and not let go until he grants a blessing—determined to have him work his transforming power in us.

One of the most striking literary developments of what it means to wrestle an angel is found in one of George MacDonald’s classic fantasy stories, “The Wise Woman, or the Lost Princess.” The wise woman represents God or his angel. She spirits away two little girls, one a princess who struggles with anger, the other a peasant shepherd girl who is conceited. The wise woman uses various strategies to try to help the two girls overcome the vices that have developed in them as a result of being spoiled by their parents. Both girls are resistant to the woman’s attempts and respond to her with scorn, bitterness, hatred, abuse, and rebelliousness as they continue to indulge their character flaws. Their wrestling with this angel of mercy is evident in their stubborn refusal to be changed. The peasant girl prevails and remains what she has been. Her desperate condition is reflected in the wise woman’s final speech to her parents:

Instead of making your daughter obey you, you left her to be a slave to herself; you coaxed when you ought to have compelled; you praised when you ought to have been silent; you fondled when you ought to have punished; you threatened when you ought to have inflicted—and there she stands, the full-grown result of your foolishness! She is your crime and your punishment. Take her home with you, and live hour after hour with the pale-heated disgrace you call your daughter. What she is, the worm at her heart has begun to teach her. When life is no longer endurable, come to me.15

This is precisely what the text of Genesis refers to when it speaks of Jacob’s prevailing. It is not good to prevail when one is wrestling an angel. As MacDonald observes, “There are victories far worse than defeats; and to overcome an angel too gentle to put out all his strength, and ride away in triumph on the back of a devil, is one of the poorest.”16

In contrast, the princess eventually succumbs and is transformed when she stops trying to prevail and accepts the authority and kindness of the wise woman. She learns to be a servant instead of a spoiled, demanding girl who gets her way by throwing temper tantrums. MacDonald has given us a fleshed-in story of the struggle involved in transformation with the hope that we too will enter the ring prepared to wrestle the angel and hold on for a blessing rather than prevailing.

God can change character and overcome hostility. Most marriage counselors consider it important to communicate to the happy couple that if the marriage is to succeed, both must be willing to accept the other as he or she is. Few things destine a marriage to failure more unavoidably than one of the partners going into it with the thought that he or she will change the partner once they are married. They are told instead that they must love who the person is, not just the person they would like their spouse to become. To approach the marriage expecting change is deleterious and futile.

God’s relationship with us is not like this. While it is true that God loves us as we are, it is his desire and his right to transform us. Additionally, unlike a spouse, God has the power to transform us. The problem is that most of us are not motivated to change. There is not enough at stake. Like Ebenezer Scrooge in Dickens’ Christmas Carol, we must see there is a problem and be given a reason to change before we submit, just as we must be persuaded that something is drastically wrong with our bodies before we willingly put ourselves under the surgeon’s knife.

The first step is trust in the surgeon. God can transform us. God can resolve the conflict that is the result of character flaws. Sometimes our response to conflict is a prayer that God will work on the other person to produce harmony. Perhaps we need to be more willing to pray that God will change us—take away our bitterness, overcome our habits, help us step back from our expectations, and weaken our pride.

A remarkable story about transformation from hate and hostility to healing and harmony is found in the intertwined lives of Mitsuo Fuchida and Jacob DeShazer. The former expressed his hatred for the “demon whites” as the pilot who led the attack on Pearl Harbor. The latter was an American bombadier involved in bombing raids against the despised Japanese in Doolittle’s Tokyo raid. After their respective famous raids, DeShazer had the harder time. Without enough fuel to return to the aircraft carrier, he and the other members of his crew abandoned the plane deep in Chinese territory, parachuting to what they hoped was safety. Unfortunately, they landed in an area held by the Japanese, and he spent over three years as a prisoner of war. Trial in Tokyo sentenced him to death, and that frequently seemed preferable to the abusive conditions he and his fellow prisoners were forced to endure.

Needless to say, this only increased the hate he felt for his captors. When his death sentence was commuted to life imprisonment, it was little consolation. But one of his comrades was a Christian. About halfway through the period of imprisonment the man died and somehow, as a result, the prisoners were given a Bible by the Japanese. They all began to read it. This led to DeShazer’s conversion. His conversion, however, was not just the acceptance of Christ’s forgiveness and salvation; it was also a conversion of his hatred of the Japanese into compassion.

Suddenly I discovered that God had given me new spiritual eyes, and that when I looked at the Japanese officers and guards who had starved and beaten me and my companions so cruelly, I found my bitter hatred for them changed to loving pity. I realized that these Japanese did not know anything about my Savior and that if Christ is not in a heart, it is natural to be cruel.17

When Americans parachuted into the camp at the end of the war and released the prisoners, DeShazer returned home. But by then his resolve was already in place: He was going to be a missionary to the Japanese. He returned to Japan in 1948, where his preaching to the Japanese impressed them with how his hatred had turned to love. Eventually even some of those who had been his guards responded to his message and gave their lives to Christ.

While DeShazer suffered the torment of the POW camp, Fuchida became a national hero. He took place in numerous other raids. His life was miraculously spared at the end of the war when he was called home to headquarters partway through a series of meetings in Hiroshima the day before the atomic bomb was dropped. But God had different plans for Fuchida. While taking a train to testify at war crimes trials, he received a tract about the life-changing experience of Jake DeShazer.

Since the American pilot had found it in the Bible, I decided to purchase one myself, despite my traditionally Buddhist heritage. In the ensuing weeks, I read the Bible eagerly. I came to the climactic drama—the Crucifixion. I read in Luke 23:34 the prayer of Jesus Christ at his death: “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” I was impressed that I was certainly one of those for whom He had prayed. The many men I had killed had been slaughtered in the name of patriotism; for I did not understand the love which Christ wished to implant within every heart.18

In 1950, Fuchida committed his life to Christ. Despite the disbelief of his friends and scornful accusations from countrymen, Fuchida’s resolve remained strong, and he became a traveling evangelist for the gospel of Christ. He too had put his hatred behind him.

The years drew Fuchida and DeShazer close together in Christian companionship. Once bitter enemies, now they were brothers through the saving power of Jesus Christ. The ultimate example of God’s ability to overcome hostility and change character in these two men was seen time and time again as they preached together of God’s love at rallies and conventions.

God’s desire to break our self-sufficiency. What will it take in our lives for our self-sufficiency to dissolve? Self-sufficiency keeps some away from God and prevents others from living a life of faith and giving God proper credit for their success. It will be instructive to take a brief look at both the Christian and non-Christian expressions of this flaw.

Non-Christian. We have all encountered people who are generally moral, honest, hard-working people. They are pleasant and successful, but they see no need for God in their lives and feel that Christianity is just a crutch for people who cannot make it on their own. It is difficult to persuade such individuals that they need God. They don’t feel they need him to solve their sin problem because in their estimation, they don’t have a sin problem. They have high ethical standards and live by them. They don’t have any troubles in life that throw them at the feet of God. They are masters of their own destiny. They take pride in their self-reliance, which keeps them from seeking out God. They have faith in themselves and believe that is all they need.

What does it take for God to become an option for these people? In most cases, it takes a crisis or tragedy. Not until the death of a loved one, the onset of a serious disease, the loss of job, or a rupture in the family does it become evident that they are not fully in control of their lives. Like Jacob, they have to be brought to the point where they are willing to let go of their self-reliance and acknowledge God as their hope.

A graphic example of this is found in the story of John Newton. Since Newton’s father was a sea captain, he went to sea himself in 1736 at the age of eleven. Eventually this led him into a lucrative career in slave trading. But during a violent storm at sea, when he believed he would die, God began to tug at him. As the ship was breaking up and he saw one after another of his crewmates swept overboard to their deaths, he cast himself, almost as an afterthought, on the mercy of God. After detailing his night of terror, he wrote in his journal:

I was obliged to return to the pump, and there I continued till noon, almost every passing wave breaking over my head; but we made ourselves fast with ropes, that we might not be washed away. Indeed, I expected that every time the vessel descended into the sea, she would rise no more; and though I dreaded death now, and my heart foreboded the worst, if the scriptures, which I had long since opposed, were indeed true; yet still I was but half convinced, and remained for a space of time in a sullen frame, a mixture of despair and impatience. I thought, if the Christian religion was true, I could not be forgiven; and was, therefore, expecting, and almost, at times, wishing to know the worst of it.19

Though this experience set a new course for Newton, his progress was slow. He began seeking God, but it was six years before he made the acquaintance of someone who could guide him in the right way. It was through this acquaintance that Newton’s Christianity finally became tangible to him. Still, though he was uncomfortable with his career in slave trading, it wasn’t until he experienced a seizure of some sort that he resigned his command and left his past behind. Unlike Jacob, who was changed overnight, Newton’s was a longer path to transformation. But whether a path is long or short, the miraculous result is that we can all sing with Newton:

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,

that saved a wretch like me;

I once was lost, but now am found,

was blind, but now I see.

Christian. Those who become Christians in their childhood generally come to Christ as a result of their upbringing or early church experiences. It is easier for a child to feel vulnerable, and they are not as likely to feel that they are in control of their lives. Nevertheless, the faith they adopt as a child can become a matter of routine. As they mature into adulthood, they learn to be self-reliant and achieve success. Though their faith is real, they depend on themselves more than they depend on God. They look no different from the non-Christian in how they conduct their lives. Though they say the right words when called upon to do so, deep down they are inclined to take credit for their success in life. They see only their skills, cleverness, hard work, intelligence, know-how, or ability with people as responsible for what they have achieved.

They believe in God, of course, and have trusted him for their salvation. He is a major part of their worldview, and they acknowledge that he has blessed them. But they don’t live in reliance on him. This shows the tendency we all have to set God to the side or even ignore him altogether when life is going well. Again, God often must confront us with some sort of crisis to get our attention and help us to see ourselves for what we are.

A compelling example of confrontation and the opportunities for self-examination that it offers is provided in J. B. Priestley’s powerful play An Inspector Calls.20 The play opens as a high-society family (the Birlings) is celebrating the engagement of their daughter, Sheila, to Gerald Croft. It is clear that they are all pleased with themselves and their station in life. Mr. Birling’s words are filled with self-satisfaction as he pontificates on the importance of looking after oneself and making one’s own way in life. He prides himself on being a hard-headed business man.

It is into this situation that a man comes identifying himself as an inspector. He informs them that a young girl has committed suicide, and he is investigating the circumstances that led to her unfortunate demise. At first the family cannot figure out what this poor girl’s fate has to do with them. But the inspector confronts each member of the family one by one and exposes their complicity in the girl’s death. Mr. Birling had fired her as a troublemaker when she sought a raise of a meager three shillings a week. Sheila had gotten the girl fired from a dress shop for petty reasons. Gerald had encountered her in a bar, where she had become a prostitute for want of any other means of support. He took her as his mistress for several months and then discarded her. Mrs. Birling was the chairwoman of a charitable aid society that had refused the young girl help (at Mrs. Birling’s insistence). Eric, the wayward son, had gotten her pregnant and paid her support with money that he had stolen from his father’s business. It was the girl’s unwillingness to be supported by stolen money that had led her to the charitable aid society in the first place.

By the time the inspector is done with each of the characters, we can see some distinct differences in how the various characters respond to this confrontation. Mr. and Mrs. Birling are inclined toward rationalization and self-justification. They give all sorts of excuses for their conduct and refuse to be affected by these chinks in their reputation and their family honor. In them we can see an example of Jacob’s initial response to his wrestling match. The inspector, like the angel, is unable to prevail. Even when confronted with their complicity, they refuse to accept any responsibility. They cannot see in the mirror the true reflection of themselves that the inspector is providing. Gerald is initially responsive, but then his defenses reemerge, and then fends off his guilt and complicity.

In contrast, Sheila and Eric are broken by the horror of what they have done (even though Eric’s impact was significantly more than Sheila’s). They respond to the confrontation of the inspector by allowing new insight into their character to wash through them and begin to transform them. In this they are reminiscent of Jacob at dawn, who finally became determined to give up the façade.

The play effectively illustrates the various responses that people have to God’s convicting work in their lives. Perhaps we can see ourselves in one or another of the characters. How do we respond to the conviction of the Spirit in our lives? It is on this same topic that James reminds us:

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. (James 1:22–24)

The fact is, God wants commitment. Jacob has seen his relationship to God in terms of personal benefits. God wants him to put his self-sufficiency on the line. Many today struggle in the same way. They accept Christ and Christianity as a benefit to be enjoyed rather than as a commitment of their lives. If a couple went through the marriage ceremony and said “I do,” but then left the church and went their separate ways, they would legally be married, but we all know that is not what marriage is supposed to be.

When C. S. Lewis married Joy Grisham, it was nothing but a legality. She was looking for a way to avoid deportation from England. There was a benefit she desired, and Lewis graciously acceded in that their marriage granted her citizenship. But when she became terminally ill several months later, he found that he could not continue to treat their marriage as a legality and simply ignore her. His feeling of obligation soon became inextricably mixed with love for her, and their marriage moved from legal arrangement to mutual commitment. As her death appeared inevitable, they repeated the marriage ceremony at her bedside, now an expression of their love.

Some Christians try to do the same in their relationship with God. They say “I do” to gain the legal relationship that obtains forgiveness of their sins and procures for them eternal life. Then they walk out of the church or leave the crisis and go their merry way. They are truly saved, but there is no commitment to a life of faith. As none of the characteristics of marriage were observable in the illustration above, none of the characteristics of faith are observable in the life of this “Christian.” It may be legal, but it is a travesty. This is not what Christianity should be. At the right time, in the right circumstance, God pressed Jacob for more, and that is what any Christian who tries to hold back on God can expect—God is not in the habit of being used.

Till we have faces. In C. S. Lewis’s novel Till We Have Faces, he tells the story of Orual, queen of Glome. The book is written as a letter of complaint to the gods. She knows only the mysterious Ungit who lives in the dark and devours human blood when necessary. Her complaint is wide-ranging, including the trauma of being born with disarmingly grotesque facial features and the impact of a wise Greek slave who tutored her in a distrust of the gods. Her life of loneliness and disappointment is only relieved by a younger half-sister, Psyche, who is beautiful and kind and loves her. Of all of Orual’s complaints, the most virulent is that the gods take Psyche away.

As Orual bitterly recounts the experiences of her life in the pages of her book to the gods, she yearns for the opportunity to look the gods in the face and throw her accusations at their feet to demand an accounting of their actions. She feels justified in her anger and is self-righteous in her vilification of their motives. At the end of the book she finally finds herself in the divine court with the opportunity to file her complaint. Her closing arguments summarize her grievance.

You stole her [Psyche] to make her happy, did you? Why, every wheedling, smiling, cat-foot rogue who lures away another man’s wife or slave or dog might say the same. Dog, now. That’s very much to the purpose. I’ll thank you to let me feed my own; it needed no tidbits from your table. Did you ever remember whose the girl was? She was mine. Mine. Do you not know what the word means? Mine! You’re thieves, seducers. That’s my wrong. I’ll not complain (not now) that you’re blood-drinkers and man-eaters. I’m past that.21

At this point Orual is interrupted and realizes that she has been repeating her complaint over and over. But she also realizes that the voice that reads it is strange to her—it is her real voice. And in the silence of the court she finds the answer.

The complaint was the answer. To have heard myself making it was to be answered. Lightly men talk of saying what they mean. Often when he was teaching me to write in Greek the Fox [her tutor] would say, “Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that’s the whole art and joy of words.” A glib saying. When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you’ll not talk about joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean?22

Orual may seem to have little to do with Jacob and her complaint to have no correlation with any that Jacob may have. But it is her next sentence, the one that gives us the title of the book, that draws the two together: “How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?”

In this sense, Genesis 32 tells the story of the night Jacob got a face. He could not see God face to face till he had a face. By this expression, Lewis meant that we have to be able to see ourselves from God’s perspective. When Jacob gained that perspective, he came to recognize his need for God in the ruins and the bankruptcy of his self-reliance. He saw what a sham his life had been. He was brought to his breaking point just as Abraham had been in Genesis 22. The greatest sacrifice Abraham could have been asked to make was his son and the covenant promises that attached to him. The greatest sacrifice Jacob could be asked to make was his self-sufficiency.

Each of us must ask what is necessary in our lives for us to see God face to face. What reality do we need to learn about ourselves, what sacrifice do we have to be asked to make in order to stand before God and look him in the face? It may not be self-reliance that we have to recognize. Perhaps it is vanity; maybe selfishness; maybe greed; maybe the need for approval. Whatever it is, our usefulness to God depends on it. We cannot expect to look God in the face till we have faces.