Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Encounter at the Ford Jabbok


  

Today it is a polluted stream, littered with debris, its flow interrupted here and there by discarded tires being propelled downstream. Jordanians call the river by its modern name, the Zarqa, which is Arabic for “Blue.” The Bible calls it the Jabbok. It is one of the two main tributaries of the Jordan River. (The other tributary is the Yarmouk River.)

From a distance the Zarqa River is picturesque, flowing gently between lush hillsides. But years of ingesting industrial waste, chemicals, and raw sewage have taken their toll on this important waterway. Although the water is used for irrigation purposes, it is unsafe to drink. The Kingdom of Jordan is taking steps to purify the river, but the process of decontamination will take time.

Once a week, on our way to Bible studies in northern Jordan, the road we traveled descended into a deep valley. Here, we crossed over the Zarqa River by way of a modern bridge. But thousands of years ago another stranger, without the convenience of a bridge, crossed this river too. Jacob, that troubled, torn man, who deceived others and was in turn deceived by others, had to make a transition. That transition was a pivotal point in his life and it occurred on the banks of this river.

Only a couple of times did we have time to stop and walk down to the riverbank. Once, a group of covered Muslim women were sitting side by side, relaxing by the river. Apparently, none of them spoke much English and our Arabic was sparse, so we used sign language. One of the ladies put her hand in mine and wanted her picture taken with me. Her friend used her cell phone to snap the shot. I took the action as either a sign of hospitable camaraderie or excitement at meeting an American.



Thousands of years ago, Jacob had an encounter at the Zarqa River, which he called the Jabbok. But his encounter was entirely different from mine. Rather than grasping the hand of a human being as a friendly gesture, he wrestled with a divine being. My meeting with those ladies was casual and insignificant. Jacob’s meeting changed the course of his life.

Throughout history, rivers have often been remembered for their association with great battles. Two examples from America’s history are the Battle of Bull Run and the Battle of the Little Bighorn. The Battle of Bull Run was the first major military conflict of the United States’ Civil War. It was called the Battle of Bull Run because of its proximity to the Bull Run stream in Virginia. The Battle of the Little Bighorn is also known as Custer's Last Stand. On the plains of the Little Bighorn River in Montana, Lieutenant Colonel Custer met his death and the Americans suffered a brutal defeat at the hands of the Indian forces.

Some people, from birth, seem to have the odds against them. As Jacob was being born, he caught the heel of his older twin brother, Esau. Because of this action, he was named “Jacob.” This name meant “Heel-catcher, Supplanter, Deceiver.” In Bible days, a name was an integral part of who a person was. Jacob’s destiny seemed sealed from the moment his took his first breath. He would grow up parented by a mother and father who played favorites. His mother, Rebekah, loved Jacob but his father, Isaac, loved Esau (Genesis 25:28). His family was rife with dysfunction. Jacob grew up with a label on his life, a label that he did not choose, but one that he was powerless to remove. Each time someone called his name, he was reminded of who he was. Jacob…Deceiver. It was seared into his mind, infused into his very being.

Esau, as the elder brother, was entitled to the birthright. He hated it, however, perhaps because of the responsibility it represented. Jacob, on the other hand, wanted the birthright. With only a little persuasion, Esau sold it to him for a bowl of lentils.

Years passed, and it was time for Isaac to die. He told Esau, the firstborn, to go hunting and prepare meat for him to eat. While Esau was gone, Rebekah told Jacob to deceive Isaac and obtain the blessing. At first, Jacob resisted his mother’s scheme. He did not want his father to think he was a deceiver. He was unwilling to admit that Isaac had been calling Jacob a deceiver all his life. He craved his father’s approval. He wanted to be called something good, something other than “Heel-Catcher, Supplanter.” But finally Jacob’s mother convinced him to follow through with her plan.

So Jacob obtained the blessing and had scarcely left Isaac’s bedside when Esau returned. When Esau discovered what Jacob had done, “he cried with a great and exceeding bitter cry” (Genesis 27:34). Although Isaac issued a blessing to Esau also, it was a blessing laced with bitterness. Esau was destined to live by the sword and be in subjection to his younger brother Jacob.

The Bible says that “Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing wherewith his father blessed him” (Geneses 27:41.) He purposed to kill Jacob as soon as Isaac was dead. To save her son’s life, Rebekah devised another scheme. She convinced Isaac that Jacob needed to go to Padan-aram, also called Haran. This was in northern modern-day Syria, about 550 miles from Beersheba. Esau had married Canaanite women and they were a “grief of mind” to Isaac and Rebekah. So Rebekah had no trouble convincing Isaac to send Jacob to a place where he could marry a woman from their own tribe. This guise successfully saved Jacob from being subjected to the force of Esau’s wrath.

Jacob left all that was familiar to him to begin a new life. Along his journey, at Bethel, God affirmed to Jacob the promise that He had made to Jacob’s grandfather Abraham. In turn, Jacob vowed to God, “ If God will be with me, and keep me in the way that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and raiment to put on, So that I come again to my father’s house in peace: then shall the Lord be my God” (Genesis 28:20-21). This reveals what was probably Jacob’s greatest desire: Peace in his family.

During his twenty-year sojourn in Padan-aram, Jacob married Leah and Rachel, sisters. They and their handmaids bore him eleven sons. Jacob became a prosperous and wealthy man. But the prosperity came at a painful cost: Jacob and his father-in-law Laban deceived each other to get what they both wanted. It seems that Jacob’s cycle was continuing: he was both deceiving and being deceived.

In time the Lord began to make the nest very uncomfortable for Jacob. Laban was upset with Jacob and a serious family conflict seemed imminent. At this point, the Lord told Jacob that it was time to go home.

Jacob had one chief concern: his brother Esau. Esau lived in Edom, in southern modern-day Jordan. To try to appease Esau’s anger, Jacob sent him gifts of animals and servants. But Esau was not deterred. Jacob’s messengers told him that Esau was coming to meet him with four hundred seasoned warriors. Jacob stood to lose not just all he had gained during the last twenty years, but his life as well. He “was greatly afraid and distressed” (Genesis 32:7).

That momentous night, Jacob came to the Ford Jabbok. A ford is a low spot in a river that provides a place for the river to be easily crossed. Jacob sent his family and possessions across this ford in the Jabbok River, which was near Peniel, but he lingered behind them…alone. Jacob had reached the end of himself. There, as the water flowed past, he realized that he was at a dead-end street with no one to help him except God. He had exhausted his resources and his plans had failed. Esau was not deterred. Family peace seemed an impossible dream.

Suddenly, a Man appeared. And He began to wrestle with Jacob. All night they wrestled, not so much for physical pre-eminence, but as a reflection of the struggle in Jacob’s heart. There on the banks of that river, Jacob was facing the worst battle of his life. In Hebrew, Jabbok (Yabboq) has its root in “baqaq,” which means “to pour out, to empty.” Jacob’s meeting with this divine being was a time of confrontation, awareness, honesty…desperation.

Then, as dawn broke, the man asked Jacob to tell Him his name. Such a strange question. Why ask a person his name? Because Jacob’s name identified him for who he really was. No doubt from the anguish of the depths of his being, he said, “Jacob. My name is Deceiver.” Perhaps this was one of the most difficult things Jacob ever did. God wanted Jacob to admit who he was. Jacob had been wrestling all of his life with the label that had been his from birth. It was time for a change.

Jacob, I am going to give you a new name. You will have a new identity. From this day forward, your name will be Israel, “for as a prince hast thou power with God and with men, and hast prevailed” (Genesis 32:28). Jacob’s encounter at the Ford Jabbok was a turning point in his life. Not only did God mend Jacob’s relationship with his brother Esau, but He equipped Jacob with a relationship with Him that he had never before had.

That lonely river was the site of an intense personal struggle, the result of which forever altered Jacob’s identity. Jacob was never the same. He called the location of his encounter Peniel which means “the face of God.” He said, “I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved” (Genesis 32:30). He had an encounter with God, and it is impossible to encounter God and be unchanged.

  

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Tu B'Shevat


  

Two days ago, February 7th, was the celebration of Tu B'Shevat in Israel. We were in Israel this time last year. Bill went to run an errand at the back and came back to the apartment to tell me about the excitement outside.

Ben Yehuda Street was a mass of people and sights. Tu B'Shevat is Jewish Arbor Day. Although it is not biblical in origin, the holiday began as a means of gauging the age of trees for the purpose of tithing.

I doubt that most of the people on Ben Yehuda Street were thinking of the religious implications of Tu B'Shevat. God did not seem to have a prominent place in this holiday. The crowd was a blend of crunchy-chewy, earth-loving young people, moms with their kids, and young and old friends just checking out the sights.

It was a festive but not out-of-control (i.e., no alcohol and partyers) environment. Flowers and plants were for sale and trees on stilts walked among the crowd. Probably my most interesting memory of that day is Alexey Kochetkov, an amazing Russian Jewish violinist.