Wounded and Blessed

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Wounded and Blessed” Genesis 32:22-31

We are wounded.

Olivia was married for three years when she learned that her husband was having an affair with her best friend. She remembered the joy and promise of her wedding day when she stood at the chancel with her maid of honor on one side and her new husband on the other. When she heard news of the infidelity, Olivia didn’t know what hurt more: that the man she loved had broken his vow or that her longtime friend had betrayed their friendship. She feels deeply hurt and deceived. It has scarred her self-worth. It is hard for her to trust.

Terry and Ben love children. They’ve been deeply disappointed by their inability to have them. Years of trying without any success were followed by infertility treatments. Twice they rejoiced when Terry got pregnant, and twice they mourned when they suffered miscarriage. They are tender with one another and have accepted that parenting isn’t for them. But they grieve their loss. Giving up on parenting has left a spiritual void that’s hard to fill.

Aaron enjoyed working for the same company since graduating from college, but a corporate buy-out radically changed his feelings about the job. His new supervisor is verbally abusive and believes in profit at any price. As second-in-command, Aaron runs interference between his co-workers and the boss’s bad behavior. It has him chewing antacids as if they were candy. Aaron feels trapped by the paycheck, working in ways that compromise his true self. He feels lonely and empty.

Jacob was wounded. In our reading from Genesis, Jacob’s midnight wrestling match left him wounded and limping. That injury was only the most recent in a lifetime of struggles and misadventures that led to his solitary stance on the banks of the River Jabbok. First, there was the incidental injustice of being the second-born twin, deprived of the firstborn’s birthright and blessing. He spent all his growing years scheming about that. Then, he realized that the father whom he loved didn’t love him so much. Next, Jacob was duped into working 14 years for his one true love Rachel. Now, his family camp was an endless turmoil of rivalrous wives, concubines, and children, all vying for his affection. Jacob was headed home after more than twenty years in exile. Jacob couldn’t go back because he was alienated from his father-in-law Laban, and he was reluctant to move ahead. His older brother Esau, whom he disliked and feared, was on the way to greet him, accompanied by an entourage of 400 men. The wound that would leave Jacob limping on the riverbank was simply a symbol of a lifetime of broken relationships, abused trust, and less-than-righteous behavior.

We are wounded.  Like Olivia, we have known betrayal and broken trust. Like Terry and Ben, we have known grief, disappointment, and dashed dreams. Like Aaron, we have labored in ways that compromise our values and leave us feeling stressed, fruitless, and alone. Like Jacob, we have been loved too little, we haven’t gotten what we want, we have even behaved in ways that alienate and hurt those closest to us. Every life is touched by wounds that hurt our hearts and compromise our well-being. We may even wonder where God is amid the woundedness. Does God see us? Does God love us? Are we accepted in all our brokenness?

On the banks of the River Jabbok, as the middle-aged Jacob considered the wounds of his past and the inescapability of facing his estranged brother Esau, he discovered that he wasn’t alone. A mysterious stranger appeared and the two began to wrestle. This midnight stranger was every bit as tenacious, strong, and cunning as Jacob—and more. At some point during those hours of dark struggle, Jacob realized that he was grappling with God. Yahweh was in the struggle with him, right alongside him, holding tight, not giving up. Maybe not a rival so much as an ally, a support, a holy help. There was no denying that Jacob was wounded. He had to face it and his disjointed leg wouldn’t let him forget it. Yet Jacob was blessed. Right there, as Jacob looked at his wounded life head on and doubted his future, God was there with blessing and an invitation to grow into a new identity as one who struggles mightily and yet prevails.

When Hebrew scholar Hemchand Gossai reads the story of Jacob’s wrestling match with God, he points out that redemption comes to us in brokenness. It is often when we feel fearful and uncertain, it is often when we acknowledge the wounds that we bear, that we find God. There is room in the household of God for those who are betrayed and find it hard to trust. There is room in the household of God for those who know grief, disappointment, and dashed dreams. There is room in the household of God for those who feel stressed, fruitless, and alone. There is room in the household of God for those who love too little, want too much, and have behaved in ways that hurt and alienate others. There is room in God’s household for Jacob. There is room in God’s household for us. If ever we doubt that truth, we need only remember that we worship a God who chose to be wounded, suffer, and die on a cross—all for us. We are wounded, and yet we are loved, accepted, and blessed.

When we know both our woundedness and our blessedness, we are freed to move on, into the future that God holds ready for us, a future in which we grow into the people whom God created us to be. Priest and author Henri Nouwen taught that in the healing of our wounds, we may find a new path and purpose. Like spinning straw into gold, our awareness and integration of our wounded past may allow us to live as a gift and a blessing to others. For Nouwen, that meant facing the wounds of his childhood, accepting a religious vocation, and writing 42 books, including The Wounded Healer. Henri was passionate about helping and healing others, especially those who lived with developmental and physical disabilities.

Presbyterian prayer warrior, poet, and author Arianne Braithwaite Lehn says that when we give our wounds to God something healing—transformational—happens. In her prayer-poem entitled “When I need God to redeem this painful, sad, hard thing,” Arianne writes directly to God,

“You do not create pain for me to grow

Or cause the heartache of my soul,

But are the expert Shaper of life’s ashes.

Somehow this terrible thing—

When given in earnest to you today

(and many tomorrows from now!)—

Becomes an open channel where

Something amazing will flow…

I’ll begin a new kind of dance,

Letting my limp remind

My soul and world

How broken bodies

Learn exquisite new rhythms.

With you, pain finds a home

In something larger than itself.

And, sacred scars hold haven over

Wounds that will someday bless.”

When we give our wounds to God, there is healing and blessing for our lives, and perhaps even the lives of others.

Olivia got into counseling when her marriage unraveled after the betrayal of her husband and best friend. She learned a lot about herself and she discovered, as she faced her pain, that she has a gift for accompanying others. She earned a Master of Social Work degree and now works in marriage and family counseling.

Although Terry and Ben were unable to have children of their own, they have made a loving and helping difference in the lives of many children. Ben is a mentor to at-risk kids at his local Boys & Girls Club. Terry tutors refugee children in English as a second language, and helps those vulnerable little ones learn to read, write, and speak.

Aaron decided to leave his hostile work environment. He started his own business, beginning as a consultant for the company he left. He now has four employees. Two came from his old workplace. It can be stressful, but Aaron feels it is a good stress as he builds a business in keeping with his ethical principles and creates a supportive workplace where employees thrive.

Our spiritual ancestor Jacob limped forward into the future that God held ready. The next day, when he met the brother whom he had deceived, it was with humility and respect. There were tears and kisses, hugs and peace. Then, Jacob and Esau went their separate ways, both wounded, both blessed.

We are wounded, my friends. And yet, we are blessed. May we give our wounds to God, who is the “expert Shaper of life’s ashes,” and live as a blessing to ourselves and others.

Resources

Matthew Schlimm. “Commentary on Genesis 32:22-31” in Preaching This Week, August 2, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-18/commentary-on-genesis-3222-31-14

Amy Merrill Willis. “Commentary on Genesis 32:22-31” in Preaching This Week, August 2, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-18/commentary-on-genesis-3222-31

Mark S. Smith. “Commentary on Genesis 32:22-31” in Preaching This Week, August 6, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-18/commentary-on-genesis-3222-31-13

Wil Gafney. “Commentary on Genesis 32:22-31” in Preaching This Week, July 31, 2011. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-18/commentary-on-genesis-3222-31-2

Arianne Braithwaite Lehn. Ash & Starlight. Chalice Press, 2023.

Henri J.M. Nouwen. The Wounded Healer. Doubleday, 1972.

Diana Raab. “Are You a Wounded Healer” in Psychology Today, Jan. 26, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-empowerment-diary/202201/are-you-a-wounded-healer


Genesis 32:22-31

22 The same night he got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. 23 He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had. 24 Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. 25 When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket, and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. 26 Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” 27 So he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” 28 Then the man said, “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans and have prevailed.” 29 Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. 30 So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, yet my life is preserved.” 31 The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.


Learning Patience

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Learning Patience” Genesis 29:15-28

We live in an increasingly impatient world. Researchers have found that we’ll wait four seconds for a website to load before irritation sets in. By ten seconds, we are clicking our way to the next site. 96% of Americans admit to knowingly consuming hot food or drinks that burn their mouths rather than waiting for things to cool down. When it comes to phone calls, we are willing to be on hold for one minute (or less) before we hang up. We’ve been trained to expect instant everything. Our favorite streaming services roll from one episode right into another. We sigh with impatience when the self-check-out lanes are full at the grocery and we have to deal with the human checker. We like those one-tap purchases and emailed receipts.

Impatience doesn’t feel good. We may feel irritation that blossoms into frustration and even anger. We may feel restless and anxious, worrying about what is next and fearing that we are losing control. Our heart rate, respiration, and perspiration increase. Our blood pressure rises and stomach acid churns. Time changes when we are impatient. Behavioral scientists note that our brains don’t track waiting time like a stopwatch. When we are impatient, the brain stretches seconds into what feels like minutes. We may even act impulsively to absorb our discomfort. That’s why those clever marketers put the candy and cooking magazines at the check-out counter.

Jacob was impatient. Even before he was born, God promised that Jacob would be heir to the covenant, but Jacob wanted all the blessing and he wanted it now. As we’ve heard in past weeks, he duped his brother out of his birthright and deceived his blind father into granting him the patriarch’s blessing. Running for his life from the murderous anger of older twin Esau, Jacob encountered God in a midnight vision of a heavenly ladder and the promise of a blessed future was renewed. Children, wealth land, would all come to Jacob in God’s time. But Jacob didn’t want to wait.

When Jacob arrived at the sanctuary of his Uncle Laban’s camp, he saw his young kinswoman Rachel and decided that she had to be his. He could imagine it all: his return to Canaan with his beautiful bride, the many children who were sure to come, his flocks and influence growing, year after year, in the land that God had promised. There were a couple of problems with Jacob’s eager assumptions. First, although he was kin, Jacob was a penniless nomad who had arrived in Laban’s camp with little more than the shirt on his back and the sandals on his feet. Laban remembered years before when Abraham’s servant had shown up loaded with gold and in search of a bride for Jacob’s father Isaac. Jacob couldn’t pay a bride price and he clearly was not in right relationship with his father who should have been making any wedding arrangements. And then there was longstanding tradition when it came to daughters. The elder wed before the younger. Anything less was an insult to both daughters and family. The wily Laban traded on Jacob’s impatience. In lesser families, a poor neighbor might serve a period of indentured service for a year or two in exchange for marriage. But the impatient Jacob made a rash decision. He committed to serving his future father-in-law for seven years, working with Laban’s flocks in exchange for a bride.

Impatience can change the choices we make. Biologically, our impatience triggers a tug of war within our brains. The pre-frontal cortex, that rational part of our brain, must contend with our limbic system which is all about getting a quick hit of dopamine. When the impulsive, reward-driven part of our brain wins, patience loses. If we are already stressed by busyness, fatigue, or hunger, we are even more likely to make poor decisions and take impulsive shortcuts. Jacob, far from home, trying to fit into a new family, and grabby for all the blessing he could get, was destined to make a bad deal with Laban.

Jacob’s impatience with God didn’t serve him well in the short-term or the long-term. He fulfilled his seven-year indenture, but it didn’t seem to improve his patience. Did you hear what he said to his future father-in-law? I did my time; give me my wife! Maybe that’s why Laban felt justified in tricking Jacob on his wedding night, using what was likely a mixture of alcohol, darkness, and silence to pull the old switcheroo. As tradition demanded, the older daughter Leah was wed before the younger daughter Rachel. Then, Laban exploited Jacob’s impatience and rashness even further, signing him up for another seven-year indenture. Jacob’s initial impatience would launch a lifetime of bitter competition between the sisters who would even drag their slaves Zilpah and Bilhah into a baby-making race that would yield thirteen children in thirteen years.

Oh Jacob, we look at you as an example story about the dangers of impatience and the reluctance to trust in the presence and goodness of God. But we know where you are coming from. We are an impatient people. We are impatient in the workplace. We get angry and rashly quit a job before we find another one. We cut ethical corners or take bad risks for the big payout rather than making slow and steady gains. We are impatient with family and friends. We tend to disconnect and drop out of relationships when the emotional work gets tough. We feel frustrated and critical when our kids don’t measure up to our expectations. We are impatient with ourselves. We expect immediate healing when we have an injury or illness. We feel the impulsive pressure to keep up with the Joneses and spend more than we should. We feel impatient with God. We want the blessing and we want it now. We shake our fist at the heavens when our dreams don’t pan out. Maybe we are not so unlike Jacob after all.

Researchers say that we can boost our ability to be patient. Patience is like a muscle that grows when exercised and flexed. Most essential in building patience is gratitude. Researchers at Northeastern University College of Science have found that simple gratitude exercises, like making time daily to notice the goodness in our lives or keeping a gratitude journal, boosts patience and self-control. When we see the good things in our jobs or families, friendships or life of faith, we value them and are willing to invest our energy and effort in being patient.

Another important tool for building patience is mindfulness. Being present in the moment by noticing to our breath, attending to beauty, or centering ourselves in prayer can reframe our experience and dissipate the frustration and annoyance of impatience. We can “use the wait” to grow in patience by shifting our focus to breath, beauty, or prayer, whether we are standing in line, waiting for problems to resolve on the job, or enduring a rough patch in a marriage.

It is also good to remember that we are less likely to spiral into impatience and rash actions when we take care of ourselves. Getting enough sleep, eating a healthy diet, having meaningful connections in the community, and spending time in nature have been proven to curb our impatience. All those essential acts of self-care are not only good for us physically; they are good for us emotionally and reap benefits when we are faced with those situations most likely to make us spiral into impatience.

Finally, did you know that you can cultivate patience? It’s true. The more we intentionally practice patience, the more patient we become. This takes time and effort. Try using an affirmation like, “This is temporary and I can tolerate it.” Try waiting 15 minutes before checking your phone. Let the line you are standing in move without switching lanes. Count to ten and take a deep breath before leaning on your horn when those tourists bring traffic to a screeching halt at the T-intersection by NBT Bank. In your daily prayers, ask God to nurture within you the gift of patience. Flexing our patience muscle daily can rewire our brains.  

Jacob would eventually reap the blessing that God had promised. First came the children, then the livestock, and eventually a return to the Promised Land. I’d like to think that somewhere along the way, he found the patience that he so lacked as a younger man. He watched his children being born and felt gratitude for the miracle of life. He used those long hours while watching Laban’s flocks to be mindful of the beauty of sun and shadow on the landscape and the presence of God in the ordinary. He was well cared for by those two wives and two concubines and stopped being so anxious and impatient. He learned to count to ten before yelling at the kids. He breathed into the moment and thanked God for the slow unfolding of goodness in God’s time and in God’s way.

We may live in an increasingly impatient world, but we can choose to be different. May it be so.

Resources

Eric Solomon. “The Death of Patience” in Psychology Today, January 16, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/story-over-spreadsheet/202501/the-death-of-patience?msockid=02b77a0d2ad563c12b2668682bd2625c.

Editorial Team. “Impatience Psychology: Unraveling the Roots of Restlessness” in NeuroLaunch, September 14, 2024. Accessed online at https://neurolaunch.com/psychology-behind-impatience/

Northeastern University College of Science. “Can gratitude reduce cost impatience?” in Science Daily, March 31, 2014. Accessed online at https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/03/140331100236.htm

Robert E. Puff. “Patience Is a Virtue” in Psychology Today, March 1, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/meditation-for-modern-life/202403/patience-is-a-virtue?msockid=02b77a0d2ad563c12b2668682bd2625c

Sarah M. Koenig. “Commentary on Genesis 29:15-28” in Preaching This Week, July 26, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-17/commentary-on-genesis-2915-28-7

Valerie Bridgeman. “Commentary on Genesis 29:15-28” in Preaching This Week, July 30, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-17/commentary-on-genesis-2915-28-6

Wil Gafney. “Commentary on Genesis 29:15-28” in Preaching This Week, July 24, 2011. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-17/commentary-on-genesis-2915-28-2


Genesis 29:15-28

15 Then Laban said to Jacob, “Because you are my kinsman, should you therefore serve me for nothing? Tell me, what shall your wages be?” 16 Now Laban had two daughters; the name of the elder was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel. 17 Leah’s eyes were weak, but Rachel was graceful and beautiful. 18 Jacob loved Rachel, so he said, “I will serve you seven years for your younger daughter Rachel.” 19 Laban said, “It is better that I give her to you than that I should give her to any other man; stay with me.” 20 So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of his love for her.

21 Then Jacob said to Laban, “Give me my wife that I may go in to her, for my time is completed.” 22 So Laban gathered together all the people of the place and made a feast. 23 But in the evening he took his daughter Leah and brought her to Jacob, and he went in to her. 24 (Laban gave his maid Zilpah to his daughter Leah to be her maid.) 25 When morning came, it was Leah! And Jacob said to Laban, “What is this you have done to me? Did I not serve with you for Rachel? Why then have you deceived me?” 26 Laban said, “This is not done in our country—giving the younger before the firstborn. 27 Complete the week of this one, and we will give you the other also in return for serving me another seven years.” 28 Jacob did so and completed her week; then Laban gave him his daughter Rachel as a wife.


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The Lord Is in This Place

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Lord Is in This Place” Genesis 28:10-19a

Author, artist, and playwright Carrie Jane Knowles tells the story of a family trip to Brittany in France. Looking for the perfect picnic spot, they headed to a local trailhead. There they encountered an unexpected sign, “You have entered a sacred Druid forest. You are welcome to hike and picnic in silence.” Silence? Everyone was really hungry, so rather than jump back in the car, the family walked in silence, single-file, along a narrow, heavily wooded trail. At the top of a rise, they discovered a “sun-drenched clearing.” In the center, they found an ancient circle of large flat rocks. Silently, parents and children took seats upon the rocks, got out their lunches and ate. Then, they quietly walked back to their car. Later, when they talked about their lunch experience, everyone shared that their time in the clearing was an unforgettable entry to a sacred space, where the wall between heaven and earth had grown thin.

Our Celtic ancestors believed that “heaven and earth are only three feet apart,” and in some special places, the veil grows thinner still. The boundary between the material world and the spiritual realm feels permeable, as if one could almost reach through and touch the eternal. There are dozens of well-known “thin places” around the world. Along the wild Atlantic coast of Scotland on the Isle of Iona, they say the veil is thin where the sea sings the soul. On Mount Karlash in Tibet, Buddhist, Hindu, and Jain pilgrims walk a circular path around what they believe is the holy center of the universe. At Glastonbury Tor in Somerset England, visitors sense a spiritual link to the mystical Isle of Avalon, the location of the holy grail. In Sedona, AZ, seekers claim that the four “vortexes”—Bell Rock, Cathedral Rock, Airport Mesa, and Boynton Canyon—emit a special kind of energy that fosters healing, meditation, and self-exploration. If the veil between heaven and earth does, indeed, grow thin, then it seems that we want to be there.

In our reading from Genesis, Jacob encountered the holy in an unexpectedly thin place as he journeyed almost 300 miles on foot from Beer Sheba to Haran. Bedded down for the night on a lonely hilltop, Jacob dreamed of a ladder stretching from heaven to earth. The ladder was alive with the back-and-forth traffic of holy messengers as they did God’s bidding. Suddenly, Yahweh stood next to Jacob and promised him a beautiful future: land, children, and—through him—a blessing for all the families of the world. Upon waking, the awe-struck Jacob worshiped God, upending his stone pillow to create a spontaneous altar and sanctifying it with oil. He even gave his thin place a holy name—Bethel, House of God.

Perhaps what was most remarkable about Jacob’s midnight encounter with God was how little Jacob seemed to deserve it. Jacob was running for his life. He had first tricked his older twin Esau into selling him the privileged birthright of the firstborn. Then, Jacob had conspired with his mother Rebekkah to deceive his visually-impaired father into conferring upon him the Patriarch’s Blessing. Fearing the righteous, murderous wrath of brother Esau, Jacob fled quickly with little more than the tunic on his back. As Jacob bedded down for night in that deserted place, all his schemes and deceptions had achieved nothing. He was homeless, penniless, and utterly vulnerable. Despite Jacob’s scandalous behavior, God showed up with words of blessing that were sheer, unmerited grace. Jacob, who had no future, became Jacob the father of a nation and a blessing to the world.

Those thin places find us at unexpected times as God shows up in the moments when we are feeling vulnerable and overwhelmed. Last summer as Duane and I walked the ancient pilgrim route to Santiago de Compostella, I sensed the nearness of God. It wasn’t at the Agro dos Monteiros, the highest elevation on the Camino, where pilgrims fall to their knees as they catch their first glimpse of the cathedral towers in the distance. It wasn’t in the Plaza del Obradoiro in Santiago where we reached our destination and shed our backpacks. It wasn’t the next day when we sat in the pilgrim’s mass and worshipped with travelers from around the world.

My thin place found me on the fourth and hottest day of our journey. The temperature climbed into the eighties, the nineties, and stretched close to 100 degrees. The southern summer sun beat down mercilessly, and our path climbed away from the coast and into the hills. It was brutal as we gulped water and perspired through our clothes. We noticed fellow pilgrims dropping out. I felt old and overheated. It was only our fourth day. We had weeks of walking ahead of us. I began to doubt that I had what it would take to make it all the way to Santiago. At the top of a ridge, we found The Church of St. James de Castelo de Neiva, the oldest church on the Iberian Peninsula dedicated to Saint James. Feeling nauseous and exhausted, I took a seat inside, which was only slightly cooler than outside, while Duane went in search of water. Then, I did what I did a lot on the Camino—I prayed hard.

After a while, I noticed the wall of the church directly to my right. There the plaster had been chipped away and an ancient inscription could be read, carved into the stone. It was left behind by pilgrims almost 1,200 years earlier to mark their resting spot on the Way to Santiago. I thought of all the other travelers who had trod the same path with much greater challenges. They walked without the benefits of clean water, zero-drop trail shoes, cool-max sun shirts, an ambulance to call if they keeled over, or a welcoming B&B waiting ahead. They had suffered, prayed hard, and trusted in their holy purpose. I stopped feeling so hot, old, weak, and sorry for myself. In that moment, I knew I was within time and beyond time, near to God and to all the ancestors who were on the trail with me. It was a thin place.

Jacob’s story reminds us that we don’t have to walk the Camino de Santiago de Compostella or go to other extraordinary lengths in pursuit of God.  Yahweh assured Jacob, “Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go.” Jacob would sojourn with his Uncle Laban in Haran for twenty years. He would return to Bethel a paunchy, middle-aged man with two cantankerous wives, two concubines, and thirteen squabbling children. Later, Jacob would spend his final years as a refugee in Egypt, fleeing famine. Throughout his wandering, God was with Jacob. God occasionally showed up in sensational moments of revelation, like that ladder from heaven to earth. But God was mostly there for Jacob in the ordinary and mundane, in the everyday blessings and difficulties of family, home, and belonging.

The thin places that we encounter are like that, the numinous surprises us in the routine. The holy moment finds us as we paddle a canoe or reach a lonely summit. The sacred unfolds in the gathering of family and the celebration of special days. Some Sundays, we feel the Lord is with us as we worship in this sanctuary, with all the saints—present and past. Yet God also shows up amid the dirty dishes and the garden that needs weeding. God is with us when there is ill-will in the marriage, the children won’t mind, and the workplace is stressful. God shows up amid our cries for peace and voting rights and racial justice.  God is with us to keep us. We learned that lesson, once and for all, when an angel of the Lord descended Jacob’s Ladder to seek out a poor Galilean carpenter named Joseph and told him that Mary’s boychild would be Emmanuel, which means God with us. 

We may never see Jacob’s Ladder or make the trek to Iona Abbey. We may never be a pilgrim circumnavigating Mount Karlash in Tibet or catch a glimpse of Avalon and the holy grail at Glastonbury Tor. We might never become a seeker in Sedona. But take heart, my friends. Everywhere and everywhen may be a thin place. God’s promise to Jacob remains God’s promise to us. “Know that I am with you, I will keep you wherever you go.”

Resources

Valerie Bridgeman. “Commentary on Gen. 28:10-19a” in Preaching This Week, July 23, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-16/commentary-on-genesis-2810-19a-6

Esther Menn. “Commentary on Gen. 28:10-19a” in Preaching This Week, July 19, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-16/commentary-on-genesis-2810-19a

Kathryn Schifferdecker. “Commentary on Gen. 28:10-19a” in Preaching This Week, July 23, 2017. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-16/commentary-on-genesis-2810-19a-4

Carrie J. Knowles. “Thin Places: Where the Veil between This World and Another Is Thin” in Psychology Today, Aug. 25, 2022.

Philip James Tabb. “Beyond the Ordinary: Thin Places” in Biophilic Cities, April 2025.


Genesis 28:10-19a

10 Jacob left Beer-sheba and went toward Haran. 11 He came to a certain place and stayed there for the night, because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of the place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place. 12 And he dreamed that there was a stairway set up on the earth, the top of it reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. 13 And the Lord stood beside him and said, “I am the Lord, the God of Abraham your father and the God of Isaac; the land on which you lie I will give to you and to your offspring, 14 and your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth, and you shall spread abroad to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south, and all the families of the earth shall be blessed in you and in your offspring. 15 Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go and will bring you back to this land, for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” 16 Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said, “Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it!” 17 And he was afraid and said, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.” 18 So Jacob rose early in the morning, and he took the stone that he had put under his head and set it up for a pillar and poured oil on the top of it. 19 He called that place Bethel.


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Sibling Rivalry

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Sibling Rivalry” Genesis 25:19-34

Sibling rivalry is a form of competition among brothers and sisters. It’s normal and healthy, as long as it doesn’t become destructive to the children involved or their families. Unless we are only children, we all experience it. The newborn infant comes home from the hospital and the older child wants to send him back. Siblings bicker over who gets to sit up front in the car and who has to ride in back. Sisters vie over favorite toys, clothes, or friends. Brothers and sisters compete for top grades, best athletic achievements, greatest popularity, and most awards at graduation. Does any of this sound familiar?

When sibling rivalry is healthy, it can be helpful. As children navigate their relationship with a sibling, they develop social skills that are needed in life. We learn to communicate with one another. We learn to negotiate for what we want and need. That involves compromise, working it out by giving a little and getting a little. It also demands that we learn to share. Communicating, negotiating, compromising, and sharing, mastering those abilities serves us well across our lifespan.

Social scientists tell us that, at its heart, sibling rivalry is the competition for the love, affection, or attention of one or both parents.  When a parent consistently favors one child over another, it fans the flames of sibling rivalry and may drive it in an unhealthy direction. Over half of adults report continued competition with their siblings far into adulthood. Even when healthier bonds are formed, rivalry can reappear later in life, especially when making decisions about aging parents. Does any of this sound familiar?

Our reading from Genesis considers the rivalry between twin brothers Jacob and Esau. Last week, we learned of the promising marriage between Isaac and Rebekah, but twenty years passed without children to bless the union and continue the covenant with God. When Isaac’s prayers were answered and Rebekah’s womb was opened, she wondered if she would survive her pregnancy as the brothers struggled violently within her. We listened in as God reassured the despairing Rebekah that God’s plan was unfolding within her: two nations would be born, each longing to best the other with the younger ultimately rising to ascendancy.

From the start, the brothers were very different. Esau was born first, big, hairy, and red. He would be named accordingly. Esau means hairy, and his nickname Edom means red. Jacob came next, hairless and grabby, reaching out to grasp his brother’s heel, and he would be named accordingly, too.  Ya’aqov means the grabber, the supplanter, the heel, the trickster. Esau was a man of the great outdoors, a hunter. Jacob was a man of the camp, a shepherd. The sibling rivalry that started in Rebekah’s womb was inflamed over the course of childhood as each parent preferentially favored one boy. Isaac doted upon Esau. Rebekah adored Jacob.

This rivalry was further incited by what was at stake for the two boys. Even though they were twins, Esau had a preferential birthright. He was entitled to the bekora, that’s Hebrew for the inheritance of the firstborn, a two thirds share of the inheritance of the family’s wealth. Jacob would only receive one third. Esau would also follow his father as the patriarch of the family, with greater social responsibility and standing. Esau was further entitled to the baraka, that’s Hebrew for blessing—the blessing of the patriarch would be conferred by Isaac to Esau, including the covenant with God.

Jacob wanted what Esau had. First, he exploited his brother’s hunger after a failed hunting trip. A tasty bowl of lentil stew passed as a suitable exchange for the bekora, the birthright. Later, as Father Isaac aged and lost his vision, his preferential love for Esau continued, so Jacob, with the help of his mother, conspired to also steal the baraka. Disguising himself as his hairy twin and tempting his blind father with a savory meat stew, Jacob received the patriarch’s blessing and the generational passing of the covenant. When news of the trickery came to light, Isaac grieved, Esau exploded into murderous rage, and Jacob ran for his life.

Sibling rivalry is a repeated theme of scripture. Firstborn Cain slew his younger brother Abel in a fit of jealousy. Jacob, who was preferentially loved by his mother, would do the same with his boy Joseph, setting up a bitter rivalry among his sons. Generations later, when Israel needed a king, the older sons of Jesse were passed over for younger brother David, whom they saw as a bratty little bragger. Even Jesus had to contend with sibling rivalry among his followers, including two sets of brothers. They sparred repeatedly over who was the greatest, like brothers James and John wrangling with one another over a preferential seat in the coming Kingdom of God.

As only Jesus could, he used the rivalry of his followers to teach a lesson about discipleship. In response to the question of who was the greatest, Jesus placed a child as a role model in the midst of his friends—this was greatness: humility, vulnerability, and obedience. In response to Jame’s and John’s rivalry over preferred status in the Kingdom, Jesus taught his friends that if we wish to be master of all, we must be servant of all. Greatness was found in following him in the way of self-giving, self-sacrificial love.

That wise and wily Jesus! He knew a thing or two about human development. To be a disciple, the childhood spirit of rivalry and our longing to be best-loved must be transformed. Instead of selfish interest, disciples must pursue other-interest. The skills we acquire in the natural course of our sibling rivalries, like communicating, negotiating, compromising, and sharing, aren’t meant to serve only ourselves. Those skills are meant to serve God and the world around us. In truly following Jesus, as our self-interest transforms to other-interest, the hungry are fed, the sick are healed, the stranger is welcomed, and the vulnerable are provided for. As we live fully into our calling as disciples, we forge a world where the bekora and the baraka (the inheritance and the blessing) abound for all God’s children, sisters and brothers all.

This ancient story of the sibling rivalry between Esau and Jacob has something to say to us today. It’s a message for parents to love freely and equally, to see and affirm each child as special and unique. It is also an encouragement to come alongside our children as they cope with rivalry. We can encourage our children to share their feelings. We can teach them strategies for conflict resolution. We can model for them our own healthy communication, reasonable negotiation, compromise, and sharing. We can trust that the healthy lessons learned as children will be a blessing to our sons and daughters at any age.

This ancient story of the sibling rivalry can also be a calling to renewed discipleship. It’s a call to self-examination about core questions. Where must our self-interest and personal preoccupation be tempered by Jesus’ invitation to humility, vulnerability, and obedience? If greatness is found in being servant of all, how are we doing?  Jesus, the beloved Son, forfeited his power and privilege to live among us, love freely, and share abundantly. It’s an example that can move churches and communities past division and nudge us closer to the Kingdom.

Finally, this ancient story of the sibling rivalry is a word to the nations. When our Israelite ancestors told this story they saw in it the rivalry between two neighboring nations. Edom would arise from the descendants of Esau. Israel would emerge from the descendants of Jacob. Throughout their history, Edom and Israel had a tumultuous relationship characterized by both conflict and cooperation. The Edomites were often seen as adversaries, and they occasionally allied with other nations—like the Babylonians—against Israel, leading to military confrontation.

This age-old spirit of rivalry and conflict between nations continues to plague our world. Russia invades Ukraine. Congo and Rwanda wage repeated wars over natural resources. Pakistan and Afghanistan skirmish over borders and militant attacks. Even our nation is at odds with brothers and sisters on the world stage whether we are engineering regime change in Venezuela and Cuba or battling it out in the Straits of Hormuz. Jesus might encourage the nations of the world to transform those sibling rivalries, to put down our weapons and pick up those essential skills that our childhood disputes can foster: healthy communication, reasonable negotiation, compromise, and sharing. Perhaps we could even forge a world where there is bekora and baraka—inheritance and the blessing—for all God’s children. What a world that would be!

Jacob may have sought to steal both inheritance and blessing, but he would end up alienated and exiled from kin and country for twenty years. Both inheritance and blessing would pass from generation to generation in God’s time, at God’s discretion. Both brothers, Jacob and Esau, would be blessed in their own ways. We’ll learn more about that in the coming weeks. Sibling rivalry may be healthy and universal, but let’s learn the lessons it is meant to teach and move on. May we go forth to love generously, follow Jesus more nearly, and build a world where there is bekora and baraka for all. Amen.

Resources:

Claire McCarthy, Howard LeWine, ed. “Sibling Rivalry Is Normal—but Is It Helpful or Harmful?” In Harvard Health Publishing: Pediatric Health, April 15, 2026. Accessed online at health,harvard.edu.

Carole Moore Pfaffly. “Sibling Rivalry” In EBSCO Research Starters, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.ebsco.com/research-starters/psychology/sibling-rivalry

Kathryn Schifferdecker. “Commentary on Genesis 25:19-34” in Preaching This Week, July 16, 2017. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-15/commentary-on-genesis-2519-34-4

Matthew Schlimm. “Commentary on Genesis 25:19-34” in Preaching This Week, July 12, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-15/commentary-on-genesis-2519-34-7

Valerie Bridgeman. “Commentary on Genesis 25:19-34” in Preaching This Week, July 16, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-15/commentary-on-genesis-2519-34-6


Genesis 25:19-34

19 These are the descendants of Isaac, Abraham’s son: Abraham was the father of Isaac, 20 and Isaac was forty years old when he married Rebekah, daughter of Bethuel the Aramean of Paddan-aram, sister of Laban the Aramean. 21 Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife because she was barren, and the Lord granted his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived. 22 The children struggled together within her, and she said, “If it is to be this way, why do I live?” So she went to inquire of the Lord. 23 And the Lord said to her,

“Two nations are in your womb,
and two peoples born of you shall be divided;
the one shall be stronger than the other;
the elder shall serve the younger.”

24 When her time to give birth was at hand, there were twins in her womb. 25 The first came out red, all his body like a hairy mantle, so they named him Esau. 26 Afterward his brother came out, with his hand gripping Esau’s heel, so he was named Jacob. Isaac was sixty years old when she bore them.

27 When the boys grew up, Esau was a skillful hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob was a quiet man, living in tents. 28 Isaac loved Esau because he was fond of game, but Rebekah loved Jacob.


29 Once when Jacob was cooking a stew, Esau came in from the field, and he was famished. 30 Esau said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stuff, for I am famished!” (Therefore he was called Edom.) 31 Jacob said, “First sell me your birthright.” 32 Esau said, “I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?” 33 Jacob said, “Swear to me first.” So he swore to him and sold his birthright to Jacob. 34 Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and drank and rose and went his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright.


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Blessed in the Struggle

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Blessed in the Struggle” Gen. 32:22-31

At the age of two, doctors said that Temple had brain damage. She would never talk or be able to function in a home or school setting. “The best option is to institutionalize the child,” they told her parents. Temple’s father agreed, but her mother refused. Instead, she found a neurologist who provided Temple with speech therapy, and she hired a nanny to play games with the little girl. As she grew, school was an agony for Temple. She was ridiculed and taunted for being a nerdy kid with strange behaviors. She earned the nickname “human tape recorder” for perseverating, obsessively repeating word for word whatever was said to her.

Terry was a young athlete with a winning personality and a lot of heart. He played basketball and ran cross country in high school and was awarded the distinction of Athlete of the Year as a senior. He headed to college to study kinesiology with the hope of becoming a physical education teacher. That spring, growing pain in Terry’s right knee sent him to the doctor. Testing found that he had osteosarcoma, a form of cancer that often starts near the knees. Terry was told that his leg had to be amputated, and he would require extended chemotherapy. His odds of survival were only fifty percent.

Maya spent her childhood in and out of poverty, shuttled between the homes of her parents, grandparents, and divorced mother. As a little Black girl in the south, she had limited opportunity for school, but her teachers noticed from a young age that she had a gift for poetry. When Maya was seven, she was sent to live with her mother. There she was sexually abused by her mother’s boyfriend Freeman. She told her brother, who told the rest of the family. Freeman was found guilty but was jailed only one day for his crime. Four days after his release, Freeman was found dead, probably killed by Maya’s uncles. The little girl was so traumatized by her experience that she became mute for almost five years, believing she was to blame for the man’s death.

We all have endured struggle. Like Temple, we may contend with learning disabilities, school bias, and bullying. Like Terry, we grapple with devastating diagnoses and major health crises. Like Maya, we have known poverty and hardship, abuse and trauma. No life is without moments when we feel that we are fighting for our lives, in the struggle with everything we’ve got, hoping against hope for some sort of blessing.

Jacob knew all about struggle, but much of his battle was of his own making. Twenty years before the events of our reading from Genesis 32, Jacob fled his home in Canaan. He had tried to swindle his brother Esau out of his birthright as the firstborn, and then he duped his blind father into granting him the patriarchal blessing. When Jacob had left home, he was running for his life, one step ahead of Esau, who was ready to kill him. Now as Jacob returned to Canaan, he was again worried about brother Esau. Word had come that Esau was on his way to meet Jacob, accompanied by 400 men. Although Jacob had sent his wives and children and ample herds ahead to appease his brother, Jacob feared the worst.

Things shifted for Temple when she spent the summer before her senior year in high school on her aunt’s farm. There, Temple found that she had a special affinity for animals. If her schoolmates ridiculed her, animals were drawn to her. She understood their feelings and behavior in ways that others could not. Temple noticed that typical farming practices, from medical care to slaughter, panicked and traumatized animals. She began to imagine inventions that could make the treatment of animals more humane. When she returned to school for her senior year, she had a science teacher who was a former Nasa scientist Robert Carlock. He began mentoring Temple and encouraged her to build her first invention, the hugbox, which held animals firmly in place while they were tended.

With the help of a prosthetic limb, Terry Fox was walking three weeks after the amputation of his right leg. Terry had a positive outlook that impressed doctors. That summer, Rick Hansen of the Canadian Wheelchair Sports Association, invited Terry to try out for his wheelchair basketball team. Less than two months after learning how to play the sport, Terry became a member of the team. He would go on to win three national titles with the team, and was named an all-star by the North American Wheelchair Basketball Association.

Maya slowly found her voice through her love of poetry. One of her teachers, Mrs. Bertha Flowers, told the teenaged Maya who still struggled with mutism, “You do not love poetry, not until you speak it.” Mrs. Flowers encouraged Maya’s writing, introducing her to the work of William Shakespeare, James Weldon Johnson, and Black female artists like Frances Harper and Anne Spencer. Maya wrote. In her first book, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Maya told the story of her life from the age of three to the age of sixteen. Maya described her transformation from a victim of racism to a self-possessed young woman capable of responding to prejudice. Her work was nominated for the National Book Award and remained on the New York Times bestseller list for two years.

Jacob spent a long night wrestling. In the Jewish tradition, they say that Jacob wrestled with an angel. Some modern interpreters say that Jacob wrestled with himself, with his deceitful past, with his need to seek reconciliation with his brother and make a fresh start as a patriarch and father of a nation. Jacob believed that he wrestled with God. All night long they grappled. As the sun rose, Jacob found he was alone, wounded but blessed, ready to meet his brother and start a new life.

We have all endured struggles. Sometimes, like Temple, Terry, Maya, and Jacob, we may even find that we are blessed in the struggle. We discover that we have unique abilities and a calling to use those gifts. We find the right attitude to meet the challenge and head off in a new direction. We rise above our trauma and see that we have a voice that can help and bless others who struggle. We grow, transforming in ways that we never expected. At some point in the struggle, we may even realize that we aren’t wrestling with God. Instead, God is on our side as we wrestle with the adversity that touches every life. We, too, emerge from our struggles wounded, but blessed.

Dr. Temple Grandin was one of the first adults to publicly disclose that she was autistic. Her work broke down years of shame and stigma. She is a prominent proponent of the humane treatment of livestock for slaughter, and the author of more than 60 scientific papers on animal behavior. Her research and inventions have revolutionized livestock handling, transport, and slaughter. In 2010, Temple was named in the Time Magazine list of the one hundred most influential people in the world.

In 1980, Terry Fox launched an epic attempt to run across Canada to raise funds and awareness for cancer research. He began in April, dipping his prosthetic leg into the Atlantic, and in the first days of his run was met by gale-force winds, heavy rain, and a snowstorm. As he racked up the miles, Terry’s fame spread and so did the donations to the Canadian Cancer Society. He was forced to end his run in Thuder Bay, Ontario, after 143 days and 3,339 miles when chest pain and coughing led to testing that determined that Terry’s cancer had returned. Terry’s run raised about $23 million for cancer research. He died in 1981, but an annual run in his honor is the world’s largest one-day fundraiser for cancer research, and over $900 million has been raised in his name.

May Angelou was a poet, playwright, director, actor, Civil Rights activist, and public speaker. In 1993, Angelou recited her poem “On the Pulse of Morning” at the first inauguration of President Bill Clinton. Maya was respected as a spokesperson for Black people and women, and her works have been considered a defense of Black culture. Her books are used in schools and universities worldwide, although attempts have been made to ban her books from some U.S. libraries. Maya received three Grammys for her spoken-word albums. She was awarded the Spingarn Medal, the National Medal of Arts, and the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

After his long night of wrestling, Jacob was finally reunited with his brother Esau. The two men embraced, Esau weeping to see Jacob after so many years of alienation and separation. They made peace and went their separate ways. Each man became the father of a nation.

We all have endured struggle. We all bear wounds. May we remember that God is with us, not against us, in the grappling. May we all be blessed.

Resources

Amy Merrill Willis. “Commentary on Genesis 32:22-31” in Preaching This Week, August 2, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-18/commentary-on-genesis-3222-31

Mark S. Smith. “Commentary on Genesis 32:22-31” in Preaching This Week, August 6, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-18/commentary-on-genesis-3222-31-13

Wil Gafney. “Commentary on Genesis 32:22-31” in Preaching This Week, July 31, 2011. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-18/commentary-on-genesis-3222-31-2

Terry Fox Foundation. “A Dream as Big as Our Country.” https://terryfox.org/terrys-story/

“Terry Fox.” Encyclopedia Britannica, 17 Oct. 2025, https://www.britannica.com/facts/Terry-Fox. Accessed 17 October 2025.

Temple Grandin. “About Temple Grandin.”  Accessed online at https://www.templegrandin.com/

The Information Architects of Encyclopedia Britannica. “Temple Grandin”. Encyclopedia Britannica, 17 Oct. 2025, https://www.britannica.com/facts/Temple-Grandin. Accessed 17 October 2025.

Maya Angelou. “And Still I Rise,” documentary first aired winter 2017. BBC One Imagine. https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=and+still+i+rise+documentary&view=detail&mid=653D576936E13F10B2B8653D576936E13F10B2B8&FORM=VIRE


Genesis 32:22-31

22 The same night he got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. 23 He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had. 24 Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. 25 When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket, and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. 26 Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” 27 So he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” 28 Then the man said, “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans and have prevailed.” 29 Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. 30 So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, yet my life is preserved.” 31 The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.


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