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+ + + In Nomine Jesu + + +

Pastor Galler is on vacation, but, for our reflection this morning on today’s First Reading, Pastor Galler edited a sermon written by The Rev. Dr. Jeffrey H. Pulse, associate professor at Concordia Theological Seminary, Fort Wayne, Indiana. Rev. Pulse’s sermon was published in the current volume of Concordia Pulpit Resources (29:4, pp.5, 24-26), to which publication Pilgrim subscribes primarily in order to supply sermons on occasions such as this, when our pastor is away and the congregation has not otherwise supplied the pulpit. The edited sermon reads as follows:

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ.

Recently a group of Pilgrim members were talking about what the most-popular sport was at their respective high schools. Those from Texas, of course, tended to say football, but other people from elsewhere mentioned other sports, including basketball and even wrestling. No, not the spectacle that might be called “professional” wrestling but the genuinely-competitive sport that also occupies athletes at the middle-school, college, and Olympic levels and that traces at least its literary history back to today’s First Reading. Considering that Reading this morning, we ask the question, “Who Is the Wrestler?”

Identity is very important in the First Reading. Of course, as we heard it, we may have made some immediate assumptions—the same assumptions that are always made: namely, that Jacob is the victorious wrestler and that the One with whom he wrestles appears to be God, or more specifically, the pre-incarnate Son of God, the Christ. In fact, these are the wrestlers in the Reading, and, you may even have identified them properly, but, if we stop there, we can end up on a path that leads to confusion and even to false theology.

We can end up on a path that leads to confusion and even to false theology when we simply identify the wrestlers and then look for a way to make this Bible story “speak to us”, such as by inserting ourselves into the story. We might cast ourselves in the role Jacob, the “victor” in his “wrestling match” with the Lord, and so we might speak of wrestling with God in prayer in order to receive our blessing, the answer we desire. That substitution—and a misplaced focus on the persistence of the widow instead of on the righteousness of God in the Third Reading (Luke 18:1-8)—essentially makes any victory more or less depend on us, which it does not. I guess you can throw away that self-help book! Or we might cast ourselves in the role of the victorious Jacob, but, instead of leaving God as the “loser” of the match, we might cast the devil in that role and understand the Reading as a battle cry. (Sarcastically) You will be assailed with the soldiers of Satan and the wicked of the world. Fight the good fight! Do not give up, and in the end you will be blessed with great honor, power, and riches. Persevere, people, and prepare for the piles of plunder! You can probably tell from the sarcastic tone of my voice that this is also the wrong direction.

I am not saying that we are not in a battle, because we most certainly are. I am not denying that the evil forces of sin, Satan, and our world are grabbing at our lives and pulling at our limbs in an ongoing attempt to pin our faith to the mat in defeat. This “match” is our reality, our condition, our heritage from our first parents. Evil prowls our streets and rules our institutions. Satan remains an active and dangerous foe who must be subdued, lest we die physically and eternally. Our world continues to shock us daily with its ability to conjure up even greater and more horrific examples of corruption. The evil one is here; the world surrounds us with its corruption; sin is crouching, ready to take us down. We are in a battle, the most serious battle of all, but, when we insert ourselves into the story, who is the victorious wrestler?

When we insert ourselves into the story, as we are considering it, the victorious wrestler is not Jacob, and the victorious wrestler is not us. When Jacob receives his new name, Israel, and when God explains this particular name, God Himself arguably identifies the victorious Wrestler. The victorious Wrestler is the same One Who had wrestled from the beginning, the same One Who in the First Reading wrestled with Jacob and “lost”, the same One Who wrestled with Satan on a cross, and the same One who wrestles for us every day of our lives. That victorious Wrestler is Christ Jesus. Jacob’s new name can mean, “You have wrestled with God,” or that new name apparently also can mean, “God has wrestled for you.” Regardless, what is essentially said by God is “You have wrestled with God and man, but now, I will wrestle for you.” Not with you, not by your side, not if you need a little extra help, not when you are flat on your back. No! I will wrestle for you, in your place, just as I have wrestled for you in the past. So I wrestle for you now, and I will continue to wrestle for you until the day you stand in the courts of heaven before the throne.

God rescues the Israelites from the hand of Pharaoh with the parting of the waters—not man. God drives out the Canaanites before Israel that they might possess the Promised Land—not man. God takes the burden of our sin to the cross at Calvary and engages in a battle—not man. The Christ incarnate as the man Jesus carries our sins to the cross; Jesus the Christ suffers and sheds His holy blood on our behalf; the Lamb of God takes away our sin as He dies in our place. And, though it looks as if He has been defeated as He hangs limp upon the tree, the greatest victory of all takes place in three days as the Son of God rises from the dead, having conquered sin, death, and Satan. God is our victorious Wrestler. He is the One who fights in our place on our behalf, and He has claimed a great victory, which He bestows upon us.

I am no expert on wrestling—like Jacob must have become after his all-nighter with the Lord—but experts reportedly say that of all the wrestling holds that you do not want to find yourself in, perhaps the hold most to be feared is the notorious—and, fortunately, illegal—full nelson. A full nelson happens when one wrestler slips both arms under his opponent’s armpits and then secures his hands together over the opponent’s neck. A half-nelson—that is bad enough: one hand under one armpit and over the neck, but a full nelson—there is no getting out of that. Apparently one reason a full nelson is illegal is because, from that position, it is all too easy for an aggressor to break his opponent’s neck. We might say that the Lord could have had Jacob in a full nelson from the get-go, for Jacob’s wrestling match with the Lord was by no means an even match. But, the Lord graciously invited Jacob to struggle with him until Jacob had learned his dependence on God—and the Lord could then bless him. Likewise, our sin has always had every one of us in a full nelson from the moment of conception—both hands locked over our necks and ready to end our match forever. No chance of escape. But, God himself has mercy on us. Not only did he not administer the swift finish we deserved, but Christ Jesus took our place in the stranglehold of death. Yes, we are that dependent on the Lord’s mercy, but in him we are blessed for eternity.

God is the Wrestler. God is our Wrestler. This reality did not begin when Jacob was rolling in the dirt by the ford of the Jabbok, but this reality began as Adam and Eve were driven from the garden. This reality of God as our Wrestler did not end when Jesus was victorious upon the cross and Satan was pinned and chained in defeat. Rather, this reality of God as our Wrestler ends when we are safely through the gates of everlasting life. I do not have to tell you that the battle, the fight, is ongoing. Satan has been conquered, but he has not quit. Each day we are challenged by the desperate evil of our world, and we find ourselves in a chokehold that threatens our faith. Fear not! There is the Wrestler, the Champion, the Strong Deliverer, the Christ who daily fights for us. When he made you his own in Baptism, your old Adam was killed and the new Adam rose up to live before God in righteousness and purity forever—but as Luther tells us, the old Adam is a good swimmer who must daily be pushed back under those holy waters and drowned. Christ’s strong arm does the pushing (and, in that sense, our sinful nature is the “losing” wrestler of the “match”). Holy Absolution encourages us on our way and Christ’s Body and Blood strengthen and nourish us. Fight that strong arm, if you will—try to win the battle by yourself; rely upon your own reason and strength; be your own wrestler! And when you have had your face rubbed in the dirt and the wind pummeled from your body, you will be grateful and thankful to know that the true Wrestler has got your back! He fights for you, and nothing can stand against Him. So, we can say with St. Paul in the Second Reading (2 Timothy 3:14-4:5) that in Christ we have fought the good fight and so that the crown of righteousness is laid up ready to be awarded on the Last Day to us and to all who have loved the Lord’s appearing. As we sang in the Psalm (Psalm 121), the Lord will keep our going out and our coming in from this time forth and forevermore!

Amen.

The peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

+ + + Soli Deo Gloria + + +