Who Is That Masked Man? (2)
Then Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. Genesis 32:24 NASB
Man – In one of the strangest verses in Scripture, no clue is provided about the identity of the “man” who wrestles with Jacob. He suddenly appears. No history. No motivation. No name. We are immediately cast into the world of speculation. As I pointed out in my book Crossing: The Search for Identity, a variety of solutions have been offered:
Nahum Sarna offers a lengthy analysis of the Jewish interpretation of this story. He notes that ancient myths about river gods and nighttime demons have been demythologized in this account so that it is compatible with the monotheism of Israel. He suggests that the “man” here is the celestial patron of Esau who battles Jacob on the border of the promised land (Jabbok is the geographical separation between Mesopotamia and the Promised Land) and that, as a result of the battle, Esau’s claim for the birthright is finally relinquished to Jacob (the blessing). But this seems like an odd conclusion for it is not the “man” who is defeated but rather Ya’akob. Hamilton notes (as does Sarna) that Ya’akob identifies the “man” as elohim. “The narrator’s use of the term ‘ish provides another illustration of the inability of mortals to ascertain the divinity of a supernatural visitor until this visitor performs some wonder.” But Sarna points out that elohim can be used to designate God, angels and even men. The reference here is ambiguous. Only Ya’akob recognizes the man’s identity and only after the encounter.[1]
Of course, Trinitarian’s consider this passage an example of the pre-incarnate Christ, a declaration that the “man” is really “Jesus” in his heavenly state before entering the world as a baby. This suggestion depends on anachronistic exegesis, reading a doctrinal view of 425 C.E. back into a story from 2000 B.C.E. It seems virtually impossible that Jacob, or the author of this text, had such a view in mind. Furthermore, that Jacob names the place with a theomorphic title really says nothing about the “man” he encounters, as Jonathan Sacks notes. Jacob’s place name is about Jacob’s experience, not necessarily about the actors in the drama.
Where does this leave us? Well, I think it leaves us with the psychological trauma of self-discovery as a spiritual experience. Ya’akob comes to the end of his days. He has nothing left of himself except his “left over” past, and in that left-over past is a man he can no longer be. But the left-over man has a powerful grip on Ya’akob; a death grip that will pull Ya’akob back into the realm of hypokrites, the mask, if he lets him. The real struggle at the brook is neatly summarized by Brené Brown in an unrelated context:
“How can we expect someone to give up a way of seeing and understanding the world that has physically, cognitively, or emotionally kept them alive? None of us is ever able to part with our survival strategies without significant support and the cultivation of replacement strategies.”[2]
If Brown is right, then Jacob can only continue in his journey with a new identity. The old one is worn out. The new identity must be wrestled from the old. But it is not a “brand new, born again,” man. Part of this “new” identity will forever be attached to the left-over man who got Jacob to the brook. The “man” is Jacob left over. Therefore, he cannot be defeated, nor can he be the victor. The quintessential spiritual battle is not with God. God is already on our side. The quintessential battle is with ourselves. The survival strategy is adoption of a new purpose, a new meaning, that is, a new identity, but the old is never completely destroyed. How we got here is the product of the left over, but even though it is never erased, it no longer defines us. Ya’akob is given a new name by the “man.” But this is more than a change in designation. Jacob accepts this new name, Israel. It is his acceptance that makes him new. The Hebrew text makes this clear. The “man” does not ask what Jacob’s name is. He asks, “by what name are you called?” In other words, he asks Jacob to identify how other people designate him. And then he proceeds to give Jacob a name by which Jacob will identity himself.
Brown writes: “I believe that owning our worthiness is the act of acknowledging that we are sacred.”[3] That’s what occurs at the brook. Jacob discovers his worthiness. He no longer needs to be what others have labeled him; what others expect of him. He has learned that he is able to be who he is as he is—a gift from God.
Topical Index: Ya’akob, Jacob, identity, man, Genesis 32:24
[1] Skip Moen, Crossing: The Search for Identity, pp. 71-72.
[2] Brené Brown, Daring Greatly, p. 158.
[3] Ibid., p. 151.
