My Jabbok, as it turned out, was a parking lot. The wrestling match lasted for the better part of an hour on a spring afternoon. I told God I had everything under control. The staff issues were manageable. The deadlines were manageable. The stress was manageable. The drinking was manageable. But then came a moment of truth. God didn’t touch my hip, but he spoke to my heart. Really, Max? If you have everything together, if you have a lock on this issue, then why are you hiding in a parking lot, sipping a beer that you’ve concealed in a brown paper bag?
Jabbok. That moment in which God brings you face-to-face with yourself, and what you see you don’t like.
Jabbok. When you use all your strength, only to find your strength won’t give you what you need.
Jabbok. A single touch on the hip that brings you to your knees.
Jabbok. Jab. Buck.
Yet even in the moment, or especially in that moment, God dispensed grace. Look what happened next to Jacob.
“What is your name?” the man asked. He replied, “Jacob.” (Gen. 32:27 NLT)
On the page of your Bible, there is scarcely a space between the question and the reply. In real time, however, I sense a pause, a long, painful pause. What is your name? There was only one answer, and Jacob choked to spit it out. My . . . name . . . is . . .Jacob. This was a confession. Jacob was admitting to God that he was, indeed, a Jacob: a heel, a cheater, a hustler, a smart operator, a fraud. “That’s who I am. I’m a Jacob.”
“Your name will no longer be Jacob,” the man told him. “From now on you will be called Israel, because you have fought with God and with men and have won.” (v. 28 NLT)
Of all the times to be given a new name. And of all the times to be given this name. Israel means “God fights” or “God strives.”
The name celebrated, and celebrates, God’s power and loyalty.
The old Jacob fought for himself. The old Jacob relied on his wits, trickery, and fast feet. Jacob, himself, took care of himself.
The new Jacob had a new source of power: God. From this day forward each introduction would be a reminder of God’s presence.
“Hello, my name is God fights.” Each call to dinner a welcome instruction, “God fights, it’s time to eat.” His business card reminded all who read it of the true power of Israel: “God fights.” His old name reflected his old self. His new name reflected his new strength. “God fights.”
What grace.
God extended it to me. Abundantly. I confessed my hypocrisy to our elders, and they did what good pastors do. They covered me with prayer and designed a plan to help me cope with demands. I admitted my struggle to the congregation and in doing so activated a dozen or so conversations with members who battled the same temptation.
We no longer see tour buses in our parking lot, and that’s fine with me. I enjoy an occasional beer—but for flavor, not stress management. And if anyone mentions the “America’s Pastor” moniker, an image comes to mind. The image of a weary, lonely preacher in a convenience store parking lot.
God met me there that day. He gave me a new name as well. Not Israel. That one was already taken. But “forgiven.” And I’m happy to wear it. - Max
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Will you join us for the God Never Gives Up On You Online Bible Study, beginning October 23rd? Join Max Lucado and let's study the life of Jacob together and discover how God's grace never quits. Even in our darkest moments, in the midst of our biggest mistakes, God is gracious enough to meet us and give us a new name - a name of forgiveness.
- Team FaithGateway