#God dislocated his hip and gave him the name Israel

[lentendays]

Something something Jacob and Esau parallels.

In biblical times Jacob, Abraham's grandson, became known as "Israel" through Years Of Redemption but was for the first part of his life kind of a tool. He was born clinging to his twin brother Esau's heel, much like baby AFO is grabbing onto Yoichi here. (Not sure who's older since AFO is called "older brother" but Yoichi literally means "First son". If we take the First Son interpretation, the parallels with Esau continue.) For that reason he was named Jacob, which means "Heel" or "may God protect" OR "ASSAILANT".

Like AFO sucking the life out of Yoichi and his mother, Jacob grew up jealous of Esau and wanted to take all that he had - and he did. Through tricking Esau, he got Esau's birthright. And by tricking his aging, blind dad, he got his dad's blessing for the firstborn, which his dad was not able to regive to Esau when he asked. Both the most important things a firstborn child could have in those times.

Idk where this is going but it's a cool parallel.

[freebiblestudies]

Line Upon Line Lesson 032: Wrestling with God

Genesis 32:22 - Then Jacob was left alone and a Man wrestled with him until the breaking of day.

Esau’s confrontation with Jacob was imminent.  Esau was coming to meet Jacob with four hundred men.  Jacob sent hundreds of animals as a present to Esau, hoping to pacify him.  Jacob divided his family into two separate companies.  If Esau attacked one company, perhaps the other company would be able to escape with their lives.  Jacob earnestly prayed to God for deliverance and recalled the promise God made to him.

Let’s read together Genesis 32:22-24 and Psalm 139:23-24.

Jacob sent everyone ahead of him.  He was left alone.  Perhaps Jacob pondered and agonized over his past sins that ultimately put him in this dire situation.   Perhaps Jacob continued to pray to God for forgiveness and deliverance.

In any case, Jacob encountered a man.  Perhaps Esau sent someone to kill him?  Jacob struggled and wrestled with this man.  Jacob did not want to die.

Let’s read together Genesis 32:25-26 and Jeremiah 29:13.

Jacob came to realize this was no ordinary Man as he desperately wrestled Him.  Jacob was wrestling with Jesus.  Even when Jacob’s hip was miraculously dislocated, he endured the intense physical pain and held onto Jesus.  Jacob refused to let go of God until He blessed him.

Let’s read together Genesis 27:36; Genesis 32:27-31; Isaiah 62:2; and Revelation 2:17.

Jacob was forced to confront his past head on when Jesus asked Jacob for his name.  “My name is Jacob.”  Jacob, a supplanter, a liar, and a thief.  Yet, Jesus forgave Jacob of all his sins.  Jesus even gave Jacob a new name - Israel - “wrestled with God.”

Friend, are you willing to seek after God as earnestly as Jacob wrestled with God?  Will you shed your old identity and accept a new identity in Christ?

[spiritsoulandbody]

#DailyDevotion Don't Let Go Of The LORD Until He Blesses You

#DailyDevotion Don't Let Go Of The LORD Until He Blesses You Genesis 32:22–32 22That night he got up, and taking his two wives, his two maids and his 11 sons, he sent them across the ford of the Jabbok. 23He took them and sent them and all he had across the stream. 24When Jacob was left behind alone, Someone wrestled with him till the dawn came; 25and when He saw He wasn't winning against Jacob, He struck the joint of Jacob's hip, so that it was dislocated as He wrestled with him. 26"Let Me go,” He said; “the dawn has come.” "I will not let you go,” Jacob answered, "unless You bless me.” 27“What is your name?” He asked him.28“Your name will no longer be Jacob but Israel,” He said, “because you have struggled with God and with men and have won.” Now this account in the life of Jacob follows him leaving the house of his father-in-law Laban. You might remember that was a bit of a mess between those two in both business and family life. Now he is headed back home (remember he and his mother had cheated Esau from both his birthright and inheritance). Now just before these verses Jacob had sent his people and belongings ahead of him in seperate droves. Some of it was a present for his brother Esau in hopes of appeasing him and making peace. While it is not said, sending them apart in different droves also allowed for those following to retreat in case Esau and his people attacked the first or succeeding droves. Now he also sends his wives, their maids and his sons ahead of him and now he is by himself. It is at this point someone appeared and started wrestling with Jacob. Jacob was winning when his opponent struck the joint of Jacob's hip and dislocated it but Jacob would not let the person go. Now it doesn't say Jacob knew he was struggling with the LORD here. Yet Jacob sought his blessing. He must have know something was up with this person if he sought his blessing. Now I guess Jacob could not really see the person well he was struggling with. The person wanted to be let go before the sun came up and Jacob could see him. Perhaps this gave a clue to the person's identity. We the person gives in to blessing Jacob by asking Jacob name. The name means, heel holder and by derivation supplanter. Wrestlers would grab the heel to throw a person supposedly. Jacob certainly lived this out in his life, supplanting Esau and then his uncle Laban. The person blesses Jacob with a name change. He would now be Israel “because you struggled with God and man and won.” The LORD had prophesied good things for Jacob. He would rule his brother. It seemed though Jacob had been going about in the wrong way his whole life. His struggles with his brother and his uncle were just manifestations of his struggle with God his whole life. Now confronted with God he would not let go till God blessed him. How does one beat God? Apparently by not letting go of him. What have you been struggling with? Has everything been going wrong? Have you been trying to get what you want in underhanded ways? Perhaps it's time to struggle with God in a good way, with faith. Don't let go of God until he blesses you. Don't be one of those people who give up on God. In Jesus we know God wants our good. Hold on to him. Heavenly Father, give us the courage and faith to hold on to you no matter what is going on in our lives until you leave with us your blessing. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Read the full article

[carolap53]

December 11, 2020

Seeing God’s Goodness in the Midst of Difficult Circumstances KIA STEPHENS

Lee en español

“The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel, and he was limping because of his hip.” Genesis 32:31 (NIV)

“Take another step,” I told myself, as my body countered with pain.

Everything in me wanted to stop, turn around and quit, but my little family of four had gone too far to turn back. After hiking up a 3,000-foot mountain the day before, we now found ourselves trekking into a 1,000-foot canyon with stunning river and waterfall views.

Despite the fact that I was aching everywhere, we continued to inch down to the bottom in hopes of getting a closer look at the rushing waters. On all sides, we were surrounded by canyon walls, towering trees and audacious wildflowers.

It was breathtaking, but I was distracted by my pain.

Sore muscles, gasps for air and fatigue all competed for my attention, and nearly won. God’s spectacular creation was up close and personal, and all I could think about was when it would be over. The more I thought about my inability to fully enjoy my surroundings, the more I realized I had been in this place before.

Pain had clouded my perspective on more than one occasion and prevented me from seeing obvious glimpses of God.

Exhaustion with raising my kids, disappointment in failure, overwhelm in hardship and sickness of a loved one have all made it difficult to see God’s goodness at times. I think Jacob may have experienced something similar after wrestling all night, as recorded in the book of Genesis.

Scripture tells us that Jacob wrestled a man until daybreak. We do not know if this man was an angel or God Himself, but we do know His strength was superior to Jacob’s. During the course of their battle, the man touched the socket of Jacob’s hip and dislocated it as they fought.

In the middle of this life-changing battle, Jacob was debilitated in a matter of seconds. Though pain may have shot through his body, Jacob refused to let go of the man until receiving a blessing.

In response, the man gave him a new name: Israel. Jacob went from being known as a deceiver to one who struggled with God. Jacob’s new name would be that of God’s chosen people.

Jacob was blessed, had been given a new name, was heir to Abraham’s promise and yet he also now had a limp. Genesis 32:31 says, “The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel, and he was limping because of his hip.”

The name change was a demonstration of God’s promise-keeping goodness at work, but I am convinced that God’s goodness can also be seen in Jacob’s dislocated hip. Since we do not know if Jacob’s hip ever healed, it is probable that Jacob walked with a limp for the rest of his days.

Every day, Jacob had a vivid reminder of his weakness in comparison to God’s supernatural strength. Daily, he would be encouraged to rely not on his deceptive tendencies but rather on his almighty God. This too was a display of God’s goodness.

Just as the goodness of God can be seen in Jacob’s difficult circumstance, it can also be seen in mine. I saw God’s blessings in the amazement of my children once we finally made it to the bottom of that canyon. I witnessed His sovereignty as I took in His creation. I experienced His grace as we made our way back out of that canyon.

Though difficult to see, God’s goodness is present in our most challenging life experiences.

It may seem as if God is not present at all when we face difficulties, but God is always present. He has a perfect plan for the things we deem good, but also for what we perceive as difficult. When we choose to adjust our perspectives, we can see His goodness, even in life’s difficult circumstances.

Dear God, thank You that Your goodness is evident in my difficult circumstances. Please show me Your goodness where I cannot see it in my life. Help me to trust and believe that Your ways are always good. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

TRUTH FOR TODAY: 2 Corinthians 12:7b, “… Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.” (NIV)

[sarakellar]

i found grace for the man that i am not

When he is five years old, he clutches his father’s hand all the way to the synagogue. It is time for him to begin his education, but he has heard a lot about this path and the burden feels too long for his slim shoulders. All his life he has heard about the Almighty, participated in the traditions, but that is different than learning formally.

When they arrive, the synagogue looming over them, his father gently extracts his hand and kneels down to his eye level. “Levi,” he says quietly, “pay attention. Observe. Learn as much as you can. You were named for the father of the priesthood, and you can rise to the ranks of rabbi if you apply yourself.”

He is five years old, and his family has placed such high hopes on him. To become a rabbi would be an honour far greater than riches. In Galilee, to be a rabbi meant that you were the most learned. That you had outlasted your fellow students, learned better than all of them. Ascended through Beth Sefer, considered gifted enough to continue into Beth Midrash, and the most exemplary would become talmidim—learning under a rabbi until they knew enough to teach talmidim themselves. To teach their own disciples.

“Yes, Abba,” Levi replies. He isn’t the smallest child, but in this moment he feels tiny.

That feeling never really goes away.

-

He does well in school. He memorizes quickly, writes well, and can apply his knowledge the best that he can. He knows the Law. He can recite it on demand.

He is not the best, though.

He loves the stories of their forefathers, of how the Almighty called Abraham out of Ur, how Isaac was the child of the promise, how Jacob wrestled with the Almighty. His imagination runs wild to set the scene—the night sky dark, not a star to shine, as Jacob struggles with the Almighty in flesh, the one who created all of humanity. He feels the pain of Jacob’s dislocated hip socket and the determination that accompanies it—that, in spite of the immense pain he’s in, Jacob will struggle on. Will wrestle with the Almighty until he is blessed.

He doesn’t think too hard about why he relates so much to the story. He is only ten; he should not feel as if he is wrestling with the Almighty. So he pushes the thoughts away as he recalls the other stories, as he delves into reciting the law.

His education sometimes feels like his own struggle with God, but he sees his father look at him with pride as he recites every evening and he knows he must not say a word.

It’s not his fault that he doesn't feel like he’s connecting to the material, is it? It’s a ridiculous thought to begin with. That a Jewish child growing into a Jewish young man wouldn’t be able to connect with the law that the God of his forefathers—of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—gave to his people is almost…laughable. Levi has never heard of it happening, to be sure. He starts to struggle with his studies as he strives to push to connect with something that doesn’t quite click. He wants to know, but he feels as if he’s a step too far away. As if there’s still something that he is missing.

He doesn’t know what that could be, though, so he keeps his head down and continues to study and acts as if he is near the top of his class.

His parents want him to be a rabbi. To be a rabbi would be a great honour. He won’t let them down.

-

Memorize, memorize, memorize.

I have hidden your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you.

The words of Israel’s greatest king simultaneously encourage him and haunt him. Encourage him, because if nothing else becomes of his education—if he does not get into the next level of education, Beth Midrash—then at least he will know. He will know what the Almighty requires of him. He will know how not to sin.

Haunt him, because despite all of his best efforts at memorizing and learning he may not get into Beth Midrash.

When he is eleven, his father finds him crying in one of the rooms near the back of the house. He surreptitiously tries to wipe away his tears, but it doesn’t work. His father says, “Levi, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replies.

His father sees right through it. “Aren’t your studies going well?”

It’s an innocent question, but Levi can’t help but think that anything other than the affirmative will be viewed as defiance. Not that he means to defy his father, but what if he thinks that it’s because he is not trying hard enough? What if he thinks it’s because he doesn’t want to be a rabbi?

Levi wants to be a rabbi so badly, especially now that he has learned under one, but he is not too sure—

A thumb wipes his cheek. He’s started crying again. His father says, tone turning serious, “Levi.”

“They’re going well,” Levi says quietly; if he speaks any louder, he knows his voice will crack.

He does not need to look into his father’s eyes to know that his father doesn’t believe him, but his father simply squeezes his shoulder and then stands, leaving the room. It’s not as much of a surprise as it should be. He is eleven—soon he will be twelve. Soon he will go to his first Passover in Jerusalem. Soon he will be a man.

Soon he will see if he is good enough to continue.

-

Jerusalem at Passover is a jubilant time. It has been thousands of years since the Almighty brought them out of Egypt, but the celebration calls to something deep in each of them, something that is yearning for a connection with the Creator of the world. With the God of their forefathers. With the one who sent the prophets. With the one who promised a Messiah.

As Levi has grown, he has become more and more aware of Roman oppression. How great would they be if they were their own kingdom once more, instead of being continually squished by a Roman thumb? How much more prosperous would they be if tax collectors weren’t swindling them out of house and home? Levi knows that his father can’t possibly owe as much in tax as the tax collectors say that he does, but every year his father still pays. He is clearly not happy about it, but he still pays. He calls them traitors, but he still pays.

Passover is a brief reprieve from it all. It’s a chance for them to remember, and to hope. A reminder that this cannot last forever, that the Almighty will not let his people suffer for much longer. He did, after all, send the prophets. The Almighty made a promise, and he does not change his mind.

Levi loves the celebration. The reminder that what he is learning is bigger than him, and has meaning and importance. It briefly feels as though there is no gap between what he’s learning and what he knows for sure, like he is connected to the Almighty.

Then they go home, back to Galilee, and it all comes crashing to the ground.

He doesn’t move on.

-

It feels like every conversation is made of ice. Thin ice, that might crack under any sort of pressure whatsoever.

Levi’s parents believe him when he tells them that he tried his hardest. Indeed, even the rabbi said that he was a good student. Good, but not great. Good, but not exemplary. Good, but not good enough to move on.

His parents take it in stride. They thank the rabbi for his report and then continue on like it wasn’t earth shattering news to them. “We’ll find you someone to apprentice with,” his father says. “You might not be taught by a rabbi, but you will apprentice. You can go back to the synagogue at any time, too.”

He takes a deep breath. “But what if I don’t succeed?”

“We’ll find you someone,” his father repeats. “It may not work out right away, but we will find you someone to apprentice with. You might not be a rabbi, but that doesn’t mean you are a failure.”

-

He tries. He studies and learns and tries his hand at different trades and ways of work. His hands aren’t steady enough for carpentry, though he can do the math just fine. He doesn’t have the patience to be a shepherd. He faints the first day out in the fields. Fishing is promising, for a while, but then he gets seasick after a particularly rough storm.

It’s been two years since his education finished. He’s fourteen, now, considered a man, and his father shouldn’t have to look for apprenticeships for him but he still looks. Levi’s garnered quite a reputation for himself; their town in Galilee is small, and no one is sure he’ll ever find a trade that he’ll succeed in. His father and mother are the lone exceptions. “There are still other places,” his father says one night, though the way his brow furrows is telling. The options are growing thin. “Maybe tent-making next? I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

Levi nods absentmindedly, watching his mother knead a small amount of bread dough. They’re low, again. If only he could get established in something, finding something and sticking to it, then he would be able to help. They don’t have a lot of time. They need money. Right now.

Tax collectors make money.

Do not steal.

One of the first laws that the Almighty gave to his people. Before the laws of sacrifice and cleansing, there were the ten. His education might be two years removed, but the memorization does not go away easily. He didn’t move on, but the words are still hidden in his heart.

That I might not sin against you.

Stealing is a sin.

Love the Lord your God and keep his requirements, his decrees, his laws and his commands always.

But his family needs the money.

And if we are careful to obey all this law before the Lord our God, as he has commanded us, that will be our righteousness.

His parents are growing older. He needs to support them.

Honour your father and mother.

After a restless night of sleep, he wakes up early. It’s still dark outside—his parents aren’t even awake yet. He silently creeps around them, slipping out the door. He knows where the tax collectors meet in the morning.

-

They laugh at him.

“Aren’t you Alphaeus’ boy?” one of the larger men asks. Fattened with his corruption and wealth. Levi will stop before he gets that far. He’ll only get some money to make sure his parents will be okay, for as long as it takes him to find a trade. A job that he’ll do for the rest of his life. He doesn’t want to be a tax collector forever, but he needs the money.

He swallows around the lump in his throat. “Yes.”

The man leans back in his chair. “You haven’t been successful at anything you’ve tried.”

“I know,” Levi says, and he thinks, I’m about to be rejected from the rejects, before the man says, “You can be with me today. Until you learn the ropes. Are you sure you want to do this?”

His father calls tax collectors traitors. That’s the kindest thing Levi has heard them called.

“Yes,” he says.

-

At the end of the day, he’s sent home with a heavy bag of money and an appraising, “Good work today.” He’s pretty sure it means that he’s welcome to come back tomorrow, but he won’t need to. Not with a haul this good. His parents have always been good with money—they could make this last for weeks. Maybe months.

His parents are waiting for him when he gets home. It’s not even after noon yet, but they look worried. “Where did you go?” his mother asks. “We looked everywhere for you.”

He is a man now, not a boy; he made sure to go far enough away that no one would recognize him. He thinks he succeeded. “I have money,” he says. He holds out the bag, in case his father doubts him; the money inside sings with the movement.

His father raises an eyebrow at it. “Where did you get that?”

“I—I worked.”

“At what?”

Tax collectors are traitors.

Honour your father and your mother.

Love the Lord your God.

He is a man now. He only did it for one day. They need the money. There’s no reason to be ashamed.

You stole.

“I was—I worked with the publicans.”

He speaks so quickly and quietly that his words slur together. His father says, “You what?”

Levi takes another deep breath, forces himself to speak slowly and clearly as much as he wishes that he could avoid this entire conversation. “I worked with the publicans. The tax collectors.”

His mother’s face goes pale and his father actually stumbles back. Because of him. Because of what he said. Panic washes through him—they have to understand. They must.

“We need the money!” he says hurriedly. “I only did it for this morning, we won’t need anything else, just to give me more time to find a suitable apprenticeship. I know it’s been a long time, I didn’t want you guys to foot the burden yourselves. You shouldn’t have to. I’m a man now.”

The silence is damning before his father even speaks. Then he says, quiet voice a shout compared to the stillness, “Get out.”

Levi’s heart sinks. “But I just did it to help—”

His father’s steely expression shuts him up. He remembers, vividly, his father saying, You might not be a rabbi, but that doesn’t mean you are a failure.

His father’s voice cuts through the memory. “Get out,” he says. And then, the final blow: “You are no son of mine.”

-

The sun hits him harder than it ever has before as he wanders the streets in a daze. He barely has a grip on the bag of money, but he doesn’t care. He’s barely aware of it. He’s holding more money than he’s ever had in his entire life, and he doesn’t care. All he can see is his father’s shattered expression; all he can hear is, You are no son of mine.

He just wanted to make them proud. He just wanted to make sure they were taken care of.

He’s not looking where he is going. He’s not even sure where he is. Eventually, he runs into someone—the man from this morning. The man curses and turns, but stops when he realizes. He curses again, but in a different way. “What happened?”

Levi’s mouth is dry, but that doesn’t matter. He wouldn’t have the words to say if he could even speak. He holds out the bag of money, like it’ll take away the taint in his soul that his father saw. He feels permanently marked. Like his hands will never be clean. And if that’s what his father thought, then what must the Almighty think?

The man puts it together. “I’m sorry, little man. Come with me. We’ve got a home for you.”

Levi goes, because there’s nowhere else he can.

-

He works as a tax collector. There’s nothing else for him to do now that he’s associated with it. Dreams of being a rabbi are a distant memory now. He gets rich, but he doesn’t want the money. He feels poor. Incomplete. He can remember everything he learned in Beth Sefer, under the rabbi. It hits the hardest in the morning right after he wakes up, the word of the Almighty heavy with the weight of condemnation.

The separation he feels from the Almighty makes sense now. He was never going to be good enough.

It’s larger than that now, though. He doesn’t just feel separated from the Almighty—he feels separated from his people. Jewish people avoid tax collectors if they have nothing to do with them. Levi finds that even people he knows avoid eye contact with him.

He does his best to work places that he knows he won’t run into his family. The imprint of his father’s face is still fresh in his mind; he doesn’t need to see it again. His mother, to be sure, is just as disappointed, and even if she isn’t Levi doesn’t want to see her pity. See her confusion. See her want for him to come home.

Their people consider him a traitor now. A disgrace. He wouldn’t do that to them.

He buys himself a nice house, squanders his money on gambling and women. He’s not as brash as other tax collectors—he doesn’t flaunt his status shamelessly. He sticks to the shadows, the darkness. There are less disapproving looks there. The people in there with him, that which the Pharisees consider to be the worst of sinners, welcome him in.

It doesn’t feel like home, but at least there’s one place that hasn’t cast him aside.

-

He’s sitting at his booth, counting and separating his earnings from the Roman tax, when the whispers hit his ears. They ride the wind quietly at first, but louder as the crowds that walk past him catch on. There is a man from Nazareth—a rabbi, they say—going around and healing people. He has a small group of men following him, learning from him, though the crowds surrounding them are growing. He makes the sick well. He drives demons away.

He touches the leper and makes them clean.

That’s how Levi knows it’s too good to be true. His education at the synagogue might be four years ago, now—he’s a whole sixteen years old—but he still remembers the law. It’s chained around his heart, condemning him and holding him down. He usually manages to ignore it, drown out the do not steal that echoes in his brain, but a prophet touching lepers is a shock to the system.

Anyone with such a defiling disease must wear torn clothes, let their hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of their face and cry out, ‘Unclean! Unclean!’

He shrugs the whispers off. Even if it is true, if there is such a teacher, he wouldn’t come to their town. And even if he did come to their town, he wouldn’t want anything to do with Levi.

-

The next day, it’s almost impossible for him to set up his tax booth. He got to the area early, or so he thought, but it’s absolutely teeming with people. Everybody seems to be trying to cram into one house, and whoever can’t get in is peering into the windows.

Levi knows better than to touch people. He raises his voice instead. “What’s going on?”

It takes a few attempts, more than one person choosing to glare at him instead of answering, but a young woman eventually has pity. “The Nazarene is teaching,” she says, and then continues trying to weave closer to the door.

His heart sinks, but he ignores it. There’s nothing he can do. The crowd is so big that the rabbi probably won’t even see him, never mind have time to condemn him. He’s heard all that they have to say before, anyways. The comments only sting when he thinks about them right before he sleeps.

This isn’t the life he chose for himself, or wanted for himself. Can’t they see that?

The day is chaotic, but still profitable. People would rather somehow make their way to his booth than get accused of evading, and maybe it’s good that the rabbi is teaching because it gives them an excuse to come. Levi gets a pretty good seat, for as much as he doesn’t want it; every now and then, when the wind blows the right way and the crowd is just quiet enough, he hears some of the teaching. It loosens the shackles on his heart, reminds him of a time when the word of the Almighty was a comfort for him instead of a sentence upon him.

Then, the crowd near the back starts complaining. It’s not long before Levi sees why—four men are carrying their paralyzed friend through the crowd. They’re talking amongst themselves. “Come on,” one says. “We’re almost there.”

“We better be. We don’t even know if this is going to work.”

“Did you hear what he did at Capernaum? All the healing? Or what about the leper? If he can heal that, then he can heal a simple case of a lame man.”

Levi finds no fault with their logic—what he doesn’t understand is how they’re planning on getting the man through the door. It’s packed tight inside the house that the rabbi is speaking in, and nobody has left. There is no way that they’ll be able to get him in.

It doesn’t take them long to realize this. “We’re getting nowhere,” the second one says.

“We’ll get him in. We have to.” They’ve paused, but then something catches the first man’s eye. “There’s a staircase up to the roof.”

“What are we going to do from the roof?”

“Open it up and lower him down.”

Really, Levi thinks, but then someone comes up to pay their taxes and he loses track of them. Visually, at least; he hears them struggle to the roof. There’s rustling as they move around the tile and the hay. It takes them awhile to figure out how to do it, but once people start screaming Levi assumes they’ve figured out a way to do it.

It doesn’t take long for the rabbi to quiet the crowd down, and the wind is blowing just right. Faintly, Levi hears him say, “Friend, your sins are forgiven.”

The Pharisees and teachers of the law scoff, but Levi can’t hear any complaints. The Rabbi can, though.

“Why are you thinking these things in your hearts? Which is easier: to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up and walk’? But I want you to know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins—so I tell you, get up, take your mat, and go home.”

There’s silence, and then another scream.

No, Levi thinks as the crowd inside starts to shuffle. No way.

The crowd parts for the lame man walking.

-

So he heals the sick.

So he drives out demons.

So he cleanses lepers.

So he makes the lame walk.

Levi tries not to think about it, but it cycles around in his head for the rest of the day. As much as he doesn’t want to, he finds himself thinking about Beth Sefer, how he failed to get into Beth Midrash. What might he have become if he had been chosen to be a talmid? How did this man choose his disciples?

You can’t be this man’s disciple, his thoughts whisper. You have sinned.

But this man forgives sins. Where their society rejects the outcast, tramples them underfoot, this rabbi goes right to them. He heals them. He gives them new life.

Maybe—

But any hope that Levi have falls once the crowd starts moving with purpose. The rabbi is done his teaching, and he is leaving the house. With the way the crowd is moving, he is moving down Levi’s street.

Then the crowd parts a path right towards Levi.

It’s not hard to tell who the rabbi’s talmidim are. They’re trying to play it casual, though it’s clear they don’t understand why their teacher is approaching a tax collector. Levi doesn’t understand it, either. His thoughts are a resounding cymbal in his head:

YOU’RE A SINNER

YOU’RE A SINNER

YOU’RE A SINNER

A quiet whisper to his heart, though, silences them:

He forgives sins.

The rabbi stops in front of his booth. Levi looks up and holds his gaze, as much as he wants to look away.

The rabbi smiles. “Levi,” he says. “Matthew. You gift from God. Follow me.”

Levi’s—Matthew’s—heart leaps.

He forgives sins.

He gets up. Leaves everything. And follows the rabbi.

Follows Jesus.

[yoshinokozue]

God Makes You New “Your name will no longer be Jacob .... From now on you will be called Israel” (Genesis 32:28 NLT). You don’t have to stay the same! In conversion, we’re given a new identity. Look at Jacob in the book of Genesis. Once Jacob confesses his manipulative behavior, God gives him a new identity. Notice that three things happen: 1) God gives Jacob a brand new identity (Genesis 32:28). Essentially, God says, “I know you’ve blown it. I know you’re conniving, but I see in you a prince. Beneath all your emotional hang-ups, all your insecurities, all the stuff you don’t want anybody else to know, I see a prince.” God is saying that today to you: “Beneath all of your sins and hang-ups, I see a princess/prince. You can be something great. You can be what I made you to be.” 2) God blesses Jacob/Israel (Genesis 32:29). Deep down, we desperately want God’s blessing. If we want God’s blessing, we have to take the steps God requires of us. 3) God gave Jacob/Israel a limp (Genesis 32:31).Remember, when they wrestled, God dislocated Jacob’s hip. Jacob walked away with a limp, and it served as a daily reminder to depend upon God. God does his deepest work in your life when he deals with your identity — who you are and the way you see yourself. You will always tend to act according to the way you think about yourself. So God does his deepest changes in your life by changing the way you see yourself. He says, “Let me show you how I see you.” When you see yourself the way God sees you, it’s going to change your life. Have a blessed day & God bless us all😉😄

[romancatholicreflections]

11th July >> Daily Reflection on Today's First Reading (Genesis 32:23-33) for Roman Catholics on Tuesday of the Fourteenth Week of Ordinary Time

Commentary on Genesis 32:23-33 We jump a few chapters in our story of Jacob and come to an experience even more strange than the vision of the ladder/staircase going up to heaven. Jacob has been preparing to meet with his estranged brother Esau. He was not at all sure what kind of meeting it was going to be with the brother whom he had cheated out of his birth-right. Each one was now rich and powerful in his own domain. As our reading opens we are told that Jacob takes his two wives (Rachel and Leah), his two slave-girls and his 11 children (the youngest, Benjamin, has been conceived but not born), together with all his possessions, across the River Jabbok to a safer place while he stays behind alone. ‘Jabbok’ is possibly a play on ‘Jacob’. (The author loves toying with names in this way. See below.) The river is an eastern tributary of the Jordan originating near present-day Amman. It is known today as the Wadi Zerqa and flows westwards into the Jordan about 30 km north of the Dead Sea. Jacob is now alone and then, during the whole night until dawn, he wrestles with an unknown man. As is clear later on, this ‘man’ is a messenger of the Lord, if not the Lord himself, in human form. Is this to be seen as a ‘real’ experience or was it just another dream or some purely internal experience? “Wrestled” in Hebrew (ye’abeq) is a play on ‘Jacob’ (ya‘aqob) and ‘Jabbok’ (yabboq). Jacob has struggled all his life to prevail, first with Esau, then with Laban, his uncle who is the father of his wife, Rachel. Now, as he is about to re-enter Canaan, he is shown that it is with God that he must “wrestle”. It is God who holds his destiny in his hands. When the ‘man’ sees that Jacob is getting the upper hand, he strikes Jacob on the hip and dislocates it. The hip socket is the fleshy part of the thigh. There is a hint of injury to the sexual organs and, indeed, with Benjamin, his 12th and youngest son, already conceived, Jacob will have no more children. God came to him in such a form that Jacob could wrestle with him successfully, yet he also showed Jacob that he could disable him at will. With the coming of morning the stranger says, “Let me go, for day is breaking.” But Jacob will not let the man go without receiving his blessing. He seems to suspect the divine origin of his opponent. There is also an indication that Jacob is still having problems over their father’s blessing which he got by deceit. He wants now a direct blessing from God himself. “What is your name?” asks the stranger. “Jacob” is the reply. “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have been strong against God, you shall prevail against humans.” The probable meaning of the word ‘Israel’ is “May God show his strength” but here it is understood as “He has been strong against God”. At that very moment Jacob reaches full maturity as father and patriarch, his descendants acquire their national name. Later, Israel’s encounters with God will constantly entail intense struggle, with divine and human alike. God will later confirm Jacob’s new name (Gen 35:10). The present incident, where the name Israel is alluded to, is referred to in a passage from Hosea (12:5) where the mysterious wrestler is explicitly called an angel. Jacob then asks the stranger his name but the only answer he gets is, “Why do you ask my name?” Given that the stranger is God himself, it is wrong to ask such a question and, in any case, it cannot be answered. The name of Yahweh could not be uttered by any observant Israelite. But the man does give Jacob his blessing. Jacob, however, is now well aware of who the stranger is: “I have seen God face to face and have survived.” In the Hebrew Testament, to look upon the face of God spells instant death, except by special privilege. So in Exodus we read, “The Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as one man speaks to another” (Exod 33:11). After these encounters his face shone so brightly that he had to keep it veiled when speaking to his countrymen. But God also said to Moses: “My face you cannot see, for no one sees me and still lives” (Exod 33:20). Only God’s ‘back’ or ‘feet’ or ‘form’, in a symbolic sense, were allowed to be seen. So Jacob calls the place, where he had his experience with the stranger, Peniel, which means ‘face of God’. The word is a variant of ‘Penuel’, the name of a town on the north bank of the River Jabbok in Gilead. Then he leaves, limping because of his damaged hip. Limping is a frequent motif in myth and legend (Oedipus, too, limps), suggesting a maturing in his relationship with God, who is the real Lord of his life. It parallels in some ways the experience of Abraham at Moriah where he was told to sacrifice his only son. Although less whole physically, he is precisely through his experience more spiritually complete. He is now Israel and not just Jacob. And, the reading tells us, to this day Jews will not eat the sciatic nerve which is in the socket of the hip, because that is where God had struck Jacob. Although mentioned nowhere else in the Hebrew Testament, this dietary prohibition is found in the later writings of Judaism. Jacob retained in his body, and Israel retained in her dietary practice, a perpetual reminder of this fateful encounter with God. Finally, let us hear the Jerusalem Bible commentary on this scene: This enigmatic story, probably Yahwistic, speaks of a physical struggle, a wrestling with God from which Jacob seems to emerge victor. Jacob recognises the supernatural character of his adversary and extorts a blessing from him. The text, however, avoids using the name of Yahweh and the unknown antagonist will not give his name. The author has made use of an old story as a means of explaining the name ‘Peniel’ (‘face of God’) and the origin of the name ‘Israel’. At the same time he gives the story a religious significance: Jacob holds fast to God and forces from him a blessing; henceforth all who bear Israel’s name will have a claim on God. It is not surprising that this dramatic scene later served as an image of the spiritual combat and of the value of persevering prayer (e.g. St Jerome, Origen). It was advice that Jesus himself gave and also St Paul.