Jacob is a strange character to have as a ‘founding father.’ He is one of the big three in the theological history of the Hebrew people – and as father of the twelve sons from whom the tribes of Israel take their names, you might argue Jacob is the most important.

But he comes into the story with baggage – and he carries that baggage throughout his appearance in Genesis.

Jacob managed to trick his father Isaac into giving him the blessing meant for his elder (twin) brother Esau. He took his mother’s advice (the story tells us) and dressed in furs and fooled his dad. Not a glorious start. He then spends some time on the road (staying out of Esau’s angry path) He runs to distant family to find a wife, and the trickery trail continues. Uncle Laban wheedles 14 years work out of Jacob on the promise of (not one, but two daughters) marriage. The trickster is tricked (the first time) but eventually Jacob gets (all) the girl(s).

It’s an exhausting story that builds to a conflict between Jacob and his father-in-law. Shady deals are made – Jacob wins the battle of misdirection (and a handsome, healthy bunch of sheep and goats) until finally they agree to part ways in relative peace.  But the mood is far from celebratory. Jacob now has to face his brother.

He has a plan – he divides his huge household. He gives instructions to the servants on how best to greet Esau’s people – the plan is to be meek and deferential. Jacob plans to buy his way back into his brother’s good books.

But he (and we) have forgotten that God has a part in this.

For starters, the text goes to great lengths to express that Jacob. Was. Alone.

He has sent gifts (and servants) ahead in bunches to soften up his brother. Then he takes his wives, maids and (male) children across the river. And he returns to spend an anxious, agonizing night wrestling with ‘a man.’

Jacob was holding his own. ‘The man’was not able to overcome him. There is no clear winner, until Jacob’s hip is dislocated. I want you to think about what you would need to do to cause that kind of injury. Jacob’s opponent is not above a ‘low blow.’

Jacob has invoked God during his exile - he has dreamt of a place where heaven and earth meet - he has seen God’s messengers camped in the wild, and taken that for a sign that God was honouring the covenant of protection - a covenant that he inherited from Isaac & Abraham.

God is here too, and the struggle is real.

Jacob’s story is often hard to read. As a hero of the fait, he doesn’t always seem very faithful. He lies and cheats - he is fickle as a husband, and occasionally shady in his business dealings (though he tries very hard to justify his behaviour)

In short, he could be anyone - an ordinary person trying to navigate a world where faith isn’t held as a virtue, and where the strong - the clever - the wily - are more likely to thrive than are those who are steadfast, honest or pious.

Jacob is strong enough to prevail in a physical contest. He is wise enough to consider wider implications. He plays percentages in his preparations to reunite with Esau. And it turns out Jacob has faith enough to recognize the divine presence. He wants to gain an advantage - to learn the name of his ‘opponent.’ What he gets instead is a new identity…and a limp.

We are not unlike Jacob. We who have heard the sacred stories - we who would follow Jesus - are inheritors of that same promise. We have called on God when it suits us - when we’re scared or tired, or down to our last option. We have struggled too - and if we’re being honest, we have trouble finding the silver lining in the outcome. Like Jacob we are left breathless and limping, and worried about our next move.

But what if the struggle was not with God but with ourselves.

Jacob moves into the day a changed man. He has a new name, and a different sense of himself. He has been called Israel - one who strives with God - and instead of being a barrier, his struggles with God become a badge of honour.

Not because he won the fight. He didn’t. The honour comes from enduring. From letting the struggle shape him into what he needed to be.

It is Paul - in Romans - who reminds us of this concept when he invites us to be crucified with Christ. To leave our ‘self’ behind and inhabit a new identity in Christ. Or in the call to be ‘born again’ (as Jesus invites Nicodemus.) All these are variations on the theme introduced in Jacob’s story. Jesus will bring Jacob’s mythic ‘man vs God’ struggle to life for us. In the gospels, Jesus makes our struggles his own, and shows us how we might live into a new identity - inheritors of the promise even now.

To encounter God in the midst of our challenges - to struggle, to endure, to learn from our mistakes. To occasionally be wounded. To gain new insight - into God and ourselves. And ultimately to move humbly forward to meet our next challenge.

These may be the lessons Jacob’s story would teach us. His struggles are not (quite) over. His sons will create drama of their own. HE will spend his middle age worrying and wondering - and imagining his favourite son to be dead and gone. But never again will he resort to the kind of trickery that marked his formative years. Never again will he forget that God is present in the struggle.

The tribal dynasty that he fathered is nothing compared to the legacy of faith lessons that Jacob offers. His story reminds us that we need not fear our grappling with God. We can be sure that our difficult encounters can leave us with a new understanding of God and ourselves.