THE TEXT:
Isaiah 8
Genesis 32:24-32
Scripture says that we Christians are more than conquerors. And that is one of our beloved verses. But, if we are conquerors, that means there are things standing in our way. This truth, the one about looming obstacles, can weigh down the spirit if we let it. But, there really is no need for soul troubles. We are victors after all. And what good are victors if they have nothing to vanquish?
Jacob was headed back into the Promised Land after spending twenty years in Paddan-Aram. He was very wealthy, traveling with wives, servants, eleven sons, and abundant goods. But, he was soon to face his brother, Esau, who, as far as Jacob knew, still had a score to settle.
After sending his family over a brook for the night, Jacob was left alone and wrestled a man until daybreak (v. 24). This “man” was no mere man but God himself, a truth revealed in this passage and in Hosea 12:3, “He took his brother by the heel in the womb, And by his strength he had power with God.” When this man could not prevail over Jacob, he touched his hip socket, throwing his hip out. Jacob continued to wrestle (v. 25). Jacob would not let the man go unless he blessed him (v. 26). The man responded by asking Jacob’s name and then changing his name to Israel, for Jacob was as a prince who had wrestled with God and men, and prevailed (v. 28).
Jacob returned the question. But, instead of getting an answer, he got a blessing (v. 29). Jacob called the place Peniel, for his life had been preserved even while seeing God face to face. As Jacob passed on toward the Promised Land, the sun rose on him, and he walked with a limp (v. 31). The children of Israel remembered this encounter by not eating the sinew of the thigh (v. 32).
Jacob’s wrestling match with God is the kind of Bible story we can potentially get all twisted up. There are texts that are quite straightforward: “Do not steal.” After reading this, one does not exactly sit around the circle in the Bible study asking, “But, really, what do you think it means?” Wrestling with God, on the other hand, can result in a festive small group.
For starters, we need to be clear on who the wrestling partner is: namely, God. Jacob was not wrestling with himself. He was not wrestling with his inner demons. He wasn’t wrestling with his emotions. He wasn’t wrestling with ideas. He wasn’t wrestling with tensions. People always want to wrestle with “the tensions in the text.” Very often, all of this is simply a bit of LARPing to keep us from wrestling with the Lion. We opt for a therapy session rather than a come-to-Jesus meeting.
Also, this was no abstract wrestling match. This was not fisticuffs in the cloud. It was not a simulated boxing match or a video game. Real wrestling is wonderfully tangible. It has a way of focusing the mind. Jacob didn’t have the opportunity to do the ivory tower theologian thing. He was too focused on not getting choked out. Wrestling with God takes courage. And there is a strong inclination to get out of that particular boxing ring. If the first maneuver is to wrestle with something else instead of God. The second escape route is to pretend to wrestle with God, while manifestly not doing so practically.
Several truths lurk around Jacob’s night battle with the Lord that illuminate just how much adversity was wrapped up in the scuffle. Some have posited this a “conversion experience.” But this was not Jacob wrestling over whether God really loved him or not. This was not a conversion or assurance struggle. Those wrestlings do occur. And they seem large enough when they happen. But one eventually moves on to bigger battles.
The remarkable thing about this night of wrestling with the Lord is just how much Jacob had already been through. By running the numbers from a few different places in Scripture, we discover that Jacob was around 97 years old that night. He had just finished serving (and wrestling) Laban for twenty years. Before that, he wrestled with his brother, Esau, for his birthright and blessing. God had declared, even before his birth, that the older (Esau) would serve the younger (Jacob). And yet, at 77 years old, when Jacob crossed over the Jordan to head for Paddan-Aram, he had nothing but his staff in hand (Genesis 32:10). Indeed, he was now a wealthy and blessed man. But it was uphill the whole way.
Twenty years earlier, when he was fleeing from his enraged brother, God appeared to him, and Jacob dreamed of a ladder to heaven with angels ascending and descending upon it. God told Jacob that he and his children, who would be as the dust of the earth, would possess the Promised Land. Jacob believed him back then, and here he is two decades later, going to the mat with the LORD.
A truth that cannot be lost is that Jacob wrestled with God for covenant blessing. Not only did Jacob say, “I won’t let you go until you bless me.” But, God had made covenant promises of blessing to him. Jacob believed God back when those promises were made. Jacob obeyed God back then. He was headed back into the Promised Land at God’s Word. But, come to find out, those covenant blessings don’t come without a fight. We are tempted to say, “Why all this adversity if God has made promises to us?” But that would be to turn everything upside down. The real situation is, “Why all of this adversity? Well, God has made covenant promises, that’s why.”
And in all of this, we look to Jesus:
“Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider him that endured such contradiction of sinners against himself, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds” (Hebrews 12:1-3)
This psalm overlaps a good deal with what David prayed in Psalm 18, as well as in 2 Samuel 22, near the end of his life. His life had been a long series of battles and conflicts, and he certainly knew the truth of what he was expressing here. This is a psalm of jubilation, rejoicing in the sort of prosperity that the deliverances of Jehovah can bring to a people. It begins with war, but concludes with the harvest of true peace.
“A Psalm of David. Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight: My goodness, and my fortress; my high tower, and my deliverer; My shield, and he in whom I trust; Who subdueth my people under me. Lord, what is man, that thou takest knowledge of him! Or the son of man, that thou makest account of him! Man is like to vanity: His days are as a shadow that passeth away . . . Happy is that people, that is in such a case: Yea, happy is that people, whose God is the Lord” (Psalm 144).
David was a man of war, and he blessed the name of Yahweh, the one who had taught him how to fight (v. 1). In battle, the Lord was both his strength and his instructor. God Himself was his goodness, and his fortress—high tower, deliverer, and shield (v. 2). The word for fortress is masada, and it is possible the place called Masada is in view. Why would the infinite God condescend to deal with man, who is a trifle (v. 3)? Man’s lifespan is like that of a mayfly, with an average life span of a day (v. 4). The plea is for God to bend the heavens and come down (v. 5). David wants God to answer with volcanoes, lightning storms, emptying the divine quiver (v. 6). David then prays for his Fortress God to undertake for him (v. 7), saving him from the strangers. All men are vanity, but these adversaries speak vanity (v. 8), and they lie with great dexterity (v. 8). David anticipates the resulting victory, and he promises to praise God with a new song (v. 9). God even gives salvation to kings, and so He delivers David (v. 10). He prays for deliverance again, and repeats his point about how they speak vanity, and lies are their right-hand weapon (v. 11). What will the peace that follows this victory be like? Our sons will be strong and sturdy, like well-rooted plants (v. 12), and that our daughters might be the sort of cornerstones you would find in a palace (v. 12). In short, that our sons would be strong and brave, and that our daughters would crucial and beautiful. His anticipation continues—that our storehouses might be full (v. 13), that our flocks would be abundant (v. 13), and that our oxen would be strong (v. 14). The crime rate would be low—no burglaries, no need to flee in a refugee column (v. 14). Under godly rule, the people rejoice and there is no complaining in the streets (v. 14). Such people would be happy (v. 15) . . . but then he catches and corrects himself. Such people are happy provided God is their Lord (v. 15).
The psalmist routinely assumes that God, when He intervenes in human affairs, does so in order to take sides. There is a division in the human race between the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent. Remember the antithesis. Always remember the antithesis (Gen. 3:15). You have enemies. We all have enemies. And God instructs to fight them, and to fight them in the way that He leads. He provides the strength to fight, and He teaches the techniques of fighting.
This is one of the reasons we are to sing psalms. The psalms are filled with enemies, and in our music we are learning how to deal with them. The hymnody of the last few centuries is distinguished by its singular lack of enemies.
When man, who is vanity itself, speaks of the greatness of God, he is doing so because God has placed eternity in his heart (Ecc. 3:11). But when man, who is vanity itself, takes up a lie in his right hand, he starts to speak vanity, which he has no business doing (vv. 8,11).
God is infinitely high, but we learn in Scripture that He is also infinitely condescending.
“For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones” (Isaiah 57:15).
God dwells in two places. He inhabits eternity—He dwells in that high and holy place. That is one. But He also dwells in the hearts of the lowly. Men cease to be vanity when they acknowledge that they are vanity, and confess the greatness of Almighty God.
When a mayfly puffs himself up in his own conceits, imagining himself to be the next Alexander or Bonaparte, it is clear that he has no scriptural map of the cosmos, and he has no x on that map indicating his actual position, and the actual state of affairs. Man is scarcely a breath . . . and yet, created in the image of God. And yet, the prayer of v. 5 was answered. Bow the heavens and come down, which is exactly what He did in the Incarnation.
And this brings us to a subject that is guaranteed to make the pietist’s left eye twitch. It is easy for pietism to say that the simplistic “health and wealth” gospel is a heresy, which it is. But it is equally true that the masochistic “sorrow and borrow” gospel is also a heresy. The former assumes that we are just so many swine, happy when the trough is full. The latter assumes that we are just emaciated swine, who ought to be happy with the occasional acorn.
Balance, always balance. Not Epicureanism, and not Gnosticism. What is the fruit here of learning how to fight with God the instructor? What is the fruit of adoring the greatness of the Almighty? What happens when vain men repent of speaking vanities? The answer is that God exalts them, and this is not limited to the spiritual plane. I call these Deuteronomic blessings. Take care that when the blessings multiply that you do not forget the Lord your God (Dt. 8:7-14). Remember the conclusion of this psalm—provided that God is their covenanted Jehovah.
Remember Him . . . in the name of Christ, remember Him.
The glad tidings which Jesus proclaimed were met with severe opposition. In this chapter we see that the scandalous nature of His ministry consisted of two things: He forgave sins, and He feasted with sinners. This is just the first sign that Jesus Kingdom is going to be met with stiff resistance from Israel’s religious leaders. But Jesus doesn’t skirt the scandals. Instead, He is setting the stage for the greatest scandal of all, the death of Christ for sinners.
And again he entered into Capernaum after some days; and it was noised that he was in the house. And straightway many were gathered together, insomuch that there was no room to receive them, no, not so much as about the door: and he preached the word unto them. And they come unto him, bringing one sick of the palsy, which was borne of four. And when they could not come nigh unto him for the press, they uncovered the roof where he was: and when they had broken it up, they let down the bed wherein the sick of the palsy lay. When Jesus saw their faith, he said unto the sick of the palsy, Son, thy sins be forgiven thee. […]
Mark 2:1
Mark doesn’t let off the gas in telling the story of Jesus. After Jesus’ escapades in surrounding towns (Cf. 1:38), He now returns to Capernaum, His home base for much of His ministry (v1). The news of His return causes a stir (v2), while He preaches to the people, four friends bring a paralyzed man to the house; being thwarted in getting their friend to Jesus due to the crowd, they hop on the roof, dig through it, and lower their pal down in front of Jesus (vv3-4). Jesus sees their faith and extends forgiveness to their friend (v5). This offer of forgiveness sparks spiritual heartburn for certain religious scribes, as they are angered by what they perceive as blasphemy (vv6-7). After all, only God can forgive, right? Jesus perceives their incredulity and doubles down on His divine prerogative to forgive sins (v8). He exposes their inner thoughts (v9) and then confirms His divine office as a new Son of Man (Adam) and commands the paralytic to rise up and walk home with his mat (vv10-11). Immediately, the man did as Jesus commanded, and the people glorified God for this marvelous thing (v12).
The next episode in this chapter is the calling of Levi (Matthew) by the seaside (v13); and Levi leaves his money-grubbing and obeys Christ’s call to follow (v14). He welcomes Jesus into his home to feast with him and his unsavory friends (v15). This feasting with sinners elicits more opposition from the scribes & Pharisees (v16). Jesus leans into the controversy. Our Lord likens Himself a doctor, but a doctor for sin-sick souls; as such a doctor He will not leave sinners in the misery of their sin, but He calls such sinners to repentance (v17, Cf. Mk. 1:15).
John’s disciples join in the Q&A to raise another objection. The Pharisees & John’s disciples fast, so why don’t Jesus’ disciples (v18)? Jesus answers with a series of riddles. Do wedding guests fast when the bridegroom is present (vv19-20)? Do you patch up tattered garments with luxurious new fabric (v21)? Do you put bubbly new wine into well-worn casks (v22)? No, no, and no again. Jesus is asserting here that He is bringing about a new order of things. The old order is like a husk, which must fall aside in order for the new life to burst through. The sorrow of exile is on its way out, and the joy of the Messianic Kingdom is upon them.
This new order which Jesus is bringing is one in which Yahweh, by His Messiah, will dwell with His people, feast with them, and rule them personally. Mark shows us that Jesus has the authority to rearrange the order of things by recounting a story of Jesus defending His disciples from the Pharisees’ accusations of Sabbath breaking. The disciples plucked grain on the Sabbath (v23), and the Pharisees, like snitches, accuse them of breaking the law (v24). Jesus puts Himself forward as a New David, and likens His situation with David’s eating the holy bread in the days of Abiathar (vv25-26). The Sabbath breaking controversy carries over into the next chapter, but this section ends with Jesus’ strongest claim yet for being the Messiah: He is the Son of Man, and thus, He is Lord of the Sabbath (vv27-28).
The first episode in this chapter addresses the pride found in the heart of the self-righteous. Jesus’ question “Which is easier?” still provokes the self-righteous. As we saw in Mark 1, Jesus has been cleansing the land of demons and diseases; but now He takes it a step too far for the Pharisees: He forgives the paralytic’s sins. Prophets of old had performed healings (Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, etc.). But Jesus has taken up not only the prophetic mantle but the priestly one: forgiving sins.
The self-righteous want forgiveness to be something that is kept locked away, unavailable, out of stock, to be dripped out like an IV. And the self-righteous always want to be in charge of how forgiveness is administered. But when Jesus comes forgiveness comes too. When God brings our nation to its senses, there will be an avalanche of forgiveness. Forgiveness for abortionists, transgender doctors, market manipulators, porn stars, pedophiles, angry dads, manipulative moms, slothful sons, and unchaste daughters.
Jesus uses some deep irony here. It is easier to say “Your sins are forgiven” than to say “Rise up, paralytic, and walk.” But Jesus tells them that He is healing the paralytic so that they would know that Son of Man has power on the earth to forgive sins. The greater work of forgiving sins is demonstrated in the lesser work of healing the body. This is a Messianic claim to universal power and dominion (Dan. 7:13-14, Cf. Ps. 80), accompanied with a Messianic sign to validate the claim (Is. 35:6).
Throughout this chapter, Jesus and His disciples are on the receiving end of a series of accusations. The Scribes, Pharisees, and even John’s disciples get in on the action of accusation. Accusation is the Serpent’s work. And accusation works. It causes your heart to race, your mind to swirl, your will to quail. The police lights in your review mirror cause a hot flush to rise to your face, because they are accusation in flashing red and blue. You are a lawbreaker. The voice of the Accuser keeps men in fear, keeps them cowards, keeps them from being free.
This is seen in a number of ways in our own tangled legal code. Some legal experts argue that the average American commits three felonies a day. A cheery thought. This is not due to the moral purity of our legal code. Rather, this is because we have forsaken God’s law and entered the labyrinth of man’s unstable preferences. Jesus breaks the spell of accusation. He doesn’t say we haven’t sinned, but He offers forgiveness for our sins, and fellowship at His table.
The stinging word of accusation can hang over your head for a lifetime. Bad student. Loudmouth. Failure. Cult member. Right-wing extremist. Little brat. Terrible friend. Not cool enough. Criminal. Jesus shows that the Accuser is about to be cast down, and He offers assurance of welcome. Your sins are forgiven. David’s Greater Son has come, and invites you to His sabbath feast. The end of Satan’s empire of accusation should not be met with gloomy fasting, but with exuberant feasting.
The action doesn’t slow down at all as this chapter closes. Mark shows us Jesus as a New David, and thus has authority to rearrange the order of things. The Sabbath follows His rules. The Sabbath was a blessing from God to His people, to indicate the leisurely feast He invites His people to. The Pharisees wanted the Sabbath to be an intricate web of uncertainty, Jesus declares it to be the domain of David’s Son. These elders of Israel call Jesus a glutton, but Jesus, as one commentator puts it, “is continuing God’s behavior from the Old Testament”.
Jesus’ Gospel is that sinners can not only be forgiven but also feast with God. There is no asterisk on this invite to dine with Yahweh. Jesus the Messiah, like His ancestor David, has a troop of misfits whom He names mighty men. They can partake of the Holy Bread, because He has recruited them into His army. The Pharisees called the disciples lawbreakers, Jesus, in effect, calls them Mighty Men. The Pharisees say you should be morose and fast, Jesus says rejoice for the Kingdom has come. The Pharisees say sinners shouldn’t be seated at Yahweh’s table; Jesus says, “Come and welcome.”
This psalm is offered up to God in a time of great distress. We do not know if it is from the time of Saul’s persecution, or from Absalom’s rebellion, or from some other time. Regardless, the need is pressing and great, and David is presenting his prayers to God with great urgency.
“A Psalm of David. Hear my prayer, O Lord, Give ear to my supplications: In thy faithfulness answer me, and in thy righteousness. And enter not into judgment with thy servant: For in thy sight shall no man living be justified. For the enemy hath persecuted my soul; He hath smitten my life down to the ground; He hath made me to dwell in darkness, as those that have been long dead. Therefore is my spirit overwhelmed within me; My heart within me is desolate. I remember the days of old; I meditate on all thy works; I muse on the work of thy hands. I stretch forth my hands unto thee: My soul thirsteth after thee, as a thirsty land. Selah. Hear me speedily, O Lord: my spirit faileth: Hide not thy face from me, Lest I be like unto them that go down into the pit. Cause me to hear thy lovingkindness in the morning; For in thee do I trust: Cause me to know the way wherein I should walk; For I lift up my soul unto thee. Deliver me, O Lord, from mine enemies: I flee unto thee to hide me. Teach me to do thy will; for thou art my God: Thy spirit is good; lead me into the land of uprightness. Quicken me, O Lord, for thy name’s sake: For thy righteousness’ sake bring my soul out of trouble. And of thy mercy cut off mine enemies, And destroy all them that afflict my soul: For I am thy servant” (Psalm 143).
The psalm is from the pen of David. He begins with the plea that his prayers and supplications be heard (v. 1). He makes the request on the strength of God’s faithfulness, God’s righteousness (v. 1). David is taking a stand against his persecuting enemies, but he well knows that if God wanted to get him, he could not be justified (v. 2). The enemy is persecuting his soul, and has struck his life to the ground. He has been made to dwell in darkness, like a long-dead carcass (v. 3). David’s spirit is overwhelmed; his heart is desolate (v. 4). It was not always this way. David remembers when times were better. He thinks about that. Why could not God do that again? (v. 5). So he stretches out his hands to God, pleading with Him (v. 6). His soul is like cracked earth, parched and dry (v. 6). Pause and reflect. Selah. David urges God to hurry up because he can feel his spirit failing. He does not want to go down to the pit (v. 7). He prays for a hesed-deliverance, and wants to walk uprightly (v. 8). He hides in God, seeking deliverance from God (v. 9). He prays that God teach him to do God’s will, which is distinct from merely knowing it (v. 10). That will is necessarily good because God’s Spirit is good (v. 10). He prays that God would enliven him. And the basis of the prayer to deliver his soul from trouble is for the Lord’s name’s sake (v. 11), for His righteousness’ sake (v. 11). He concludes the prayer with the desire that God (in His mercy) cut off David’s enemies, destroying all those who afflict his soul (v. 12). For David is His servant (v. 12).
This psalm concludes with David entering his final plea—“for I am thy servant.” To be a servant of God is a great honor, and like all such honors, it is not one for us to take upon ourselves. We do not get to appoint ourselves to this station, even if outsiders consider it to be a lowly station. And David certainly does not take such an honor upon himself.
When David wanted to build the Temple, and Nathan the prophet comes back to countermand what he had earlier approved, this is how that passage begins. “And it came to pass that night, that the word of the Lord came unto Nathan, saying, Go and tell my servant David, thus saith the Lord, shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?” (2 Samuel 7:4–5, cf. 8). The Lord tells David no regarding the Temple, but then gives him a staggering promise instead. Someone descended from David will reign on the throne of David forever (v. 13). It is after this that David dares to call himself God’s servant (vv. 19, 20, 21, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29), and he does so again and again.
The basic plea of this psalm is for God to defend. But there is an interesting comment made right near the beginning. “And enter not into judgment with thy servant: For in thy sight shall no man living be justified” (Psalm 143:2). He is asking God to defend, and here he asks that God not attack.
There is righteousness before men, and there is righteousness before God. It is possible for a man to claim righteousness over against other men. The charges and accusations they make are false. They are liars. “False witnesses did rise up; They laid to my charge things that I knew not” (Psalm 35:11). At the same time, in a different respect, what would happen if God took over the prosecution? “If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?” (Psalm 130:3).
This is the set up when sinners are used by God to withstand the wicked. Those of us who are involved in the controversies of the day should recognize that if our enemies knew just a fraction of what God knows about us, it would be all over. But they don’t, and He’s not telling.
Why is He not telling? There is something very strange in this psalm. David is praying for deliverance here, and in the first verse, he is asking for it on the basis of God’s faithfulness, God’s righteousness. He is not asking for mercy, but rather righteousness. How can a sinner ask for anything remotely connected with righteousness? And he does it again in v. 11—“for thy righteousness’ sake bring my soul out of trouble.”
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).
This is a great mystery, and the only possible solution to it is found in the blood of Christ’s cross. That is the only place where you could ever find a righteous forgiveness. God intends to be just and the one who justifies (Rom. 3:26).