I didn’t know much about the prophets when I was a kid, but if it was possible to be one when I grew up, I wanted to be. They were the ones who saw miracles, healed people, raised the dead, had dreams and visions, met with angels, and talked with God. That was the kind of Christianity I wanted, and so I pursued it.
But there was another side to the prophets I didn’t recognize as a child. People didn’t like them. They were typically ostracized, if not outright murdered. Why? Because nobody liked the messages they had to say. They spoke against power and lifted up the poor. They engaged in social justice and held the nations accountable for their sin. They were a holy nuisance—especially to their own people.
I was slowly feeling a call to be a holy nuisance myself—namely, to the church. This was not the prophetic box I had checked as a child, but I didn’t feel I had a choice. One night I had a dream that the words, “We have to overcome the evangelical battle,” were being sung to the Twenty One Pilots’ melody, “Death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit.” In time, I began to feel the need to call the church to account. I strongly critiqued Christian nationalism, Trumpism, racism, and other social issues from the stage and online.
I hoped to live into the meaning of the dream that was impressed upon my heart: there is a life-threatening urgency for evangelicals to get their focus back on Jesus. And so I tried to preached King Jesus, especially when his words and actions didn’t line up with our evangelical words and actions. Republicans and Democrats and their ideologies and candidates were not the Christian answer—Jesus was. And if we didn’t like what Jesus had to say on any given topic (which many didn’t like in his time either), then we needed to recognize that we were struggling with God himself.
In a very strange story, Jacob wrestled with a man, who was God, whom Hosea also said was an angel. Our specific title for this God-man-angel is “The Angel of the Lord“—a being that several theologians point to as “pre-incarnate Jesus.” In this story, Jacob paints an all too common image of what we act like when we follow Jesus. That is to say, rather than listen to him and follow him diligently, we struggle with him instead. Indeed, that’s why God changed Jacob’s name to Israel. As God’s chosen people, we hold this name high, but the name means either, “he struggles with God,” or “God struggles” (or both). This is an appropriate name, for it will define God’s relationship with his followers all throughout history into today.
What is your struggle with God? How might life be different for you if you were obedient? How has your disobedience injured you? As Spirit-empowered Christians, may we rise above Jacob’s story and with the Spirit’s self-control, replace our struggles with faithfulness.


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