He stays by the stream, he stays
Alone, and what must he be
Thinking, feeling in that
Eternal moment
That sparkling gleam
To which the whole orbit
Of his years
Nature's years
Converged?
Jacob, Ya'aqov, deceiver
Wanderer, Hebrew of Hebrews
Do you see his face daily
The face of your brother
The hairy man
The man's man
The son your father loved
Best?
He saw the figure on the other side
And it is nearly day
Dawn nearly shattering
Darkness-- Jacob
Does not think to bow
Or weep or run or even
Kill but to
Wrestle.
Jacob, for the first time in your
Life you must stand and fight:
No flight, no trickery
No mother to save you
You will live or die this
Day, this night of holy
Wholly relentless
Mystery.
He wrestles long, hard
Silently, silently
Groaning finally
His hip is out of joint.
The man has hurt him badly--
Gasping, agony, pain beyond
Pain! He will not, cannot again
Run.
Jacob, who is this stranger, this
Bearer of blessing, of pain?
Do you hate him? Is there anger
There, in your sweat and tangled
Limbs, the anger of the second son
The cast-out one? Is that why you're
Here-- avenging, bursting, let the
Wrath spill over as you pin the angel
Down?
He grimly smiles as the stranger
Speaks: "Let me go, for day
Is breaking." But darksome still
The skies, still his heart-- and he
Won't! Won't let go, won't give
In, won't lie to himself, to the man
To the world. And with the cry of
The anguish of the ages, replies:
"I won't let you go until you bless
Me."
Jacob, son of Isaac, son of Abraham
Who, too, knew our wild, craving
Untamed God, you too, will seek until
You find-- the blessing, the
Birthright, the promise, the Lord.
Hail, you mighty warrior! Fiercer,
Bolder even than your brother, who
Strove with game, for you strive with
God.
He is incensed once more-- the stranger
Answers his demands with a
Question, a boundless question: "What is your
Name?" Aching question of questions
Posed by daybreak, by burning nerve and
Pounding heart and sweating hands-- what
Is your name? Empty question, foolish
Mocking question, at once everything and
Nothing.
Jacob! Do you really know your name?
Or do you know visions and voices-- your
Soup on the fire, your father's dismissal, your
Ladder ascending, your father-in-law's demand?
Is it violent clarity, the terror of insanity
Rooting you to the ground before him
The stranger who so strangely asked your
Name?
He replied, in any case, "Jacob." And the
Angel continued, without even a breath:
"You shall no longer be called Jacob but
Israel." Yisro'el, El, God! "For you have
Striven with God and prevailed." He tries on
The name for size, quietly feels its sound
Its newness, its foreverness, etched in him and in
Heaven.
Israel, you are a new man, you will forever
Wonder about the stranger, the wrestling that
So strangely burst from your body. You will
Forever limp, forever feel it in your bones:
The darkness that renamed you. The God who
Claimed you. You might mourn your old
Name, but you can never again cross that stream.
You wrestled with God and
Won.
He demands-- and it was surely a fair
Demand-- "Please tell me your name."
And the stranger turned it around on
Him: "Why is it you ask my name?" And
Then he blesses him, and he trembles and
Knows he could not have both blessings and
Answers. Questions are what named him, what
Brought him to Peniel, Penu'el, face of
El.
Israel, Israel, are you resigned or angry
Exhausted or enlivened, terrified or
At rest? Or all of it and more, gazing
Upward, as the sun prepares to rise
In your honor? For the world will speak
Your name with awe and fear, and nearly
Nearly worship you who bravely did not
Run from God but
Wrestled.
He goes forth, limping of course, and
Moved and bearing the hard-earned
Blessing, met his brother. The years
Disappear as they hug and kiss
And boldly, the mighty man whispers to
His older twin: "Accept my gift. God has
Dealt graciously with me and I have
Everything I want." The wrestling match:
Everything.
Israel, did the hurt and anger between you
And your brother-- surely it was there, surely
There were fiery days for you-- Israel,
In the feverish fighting by dawn was it at
Least, for a moment: The face and voice of
Esau? And was that how, in the sun
In his arms, you gave and forgave and
Gave?
He is the father of the nation, brave man
Limping man, trickster, runaway, broken
Bruised beloved and blessed of God. Not
The nation of Jews only but every one who
Crosses the stream, alone, and strives with
God and with people in the dark and light.
And these, O Lord, are your people
Israel.
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