What Do You Need to Send Across the River?
- The Rev. Beth Knowlton

- Jul 29
- 2 min read

The same night Jacob got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children, and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had. Jacob was left alone… From Genesis 32:22-31
This Sunday we hear the story of Jacob wrestling the angel at night. It is a powerful encounter as he prepares to reckon with the fullness of his life. He's on his way back home to deal with the brother he betrayed. The years away have had quite a lot of change for all concerned. Jacob, the deceiver, has ended up with two wives after his father-in-law tricked him into marrying his oldest daughter, Leah, first. He then ended up working an extra seven years for Rachel, his preferred bride. When he stops for the night, he sends all who are traveling with him across the river.
I've always been struck that we don't know why he does that. Maybe he just needed some time to himself? Was he there to protect the crossing in case someone was trying to follow him? Regardless, the deeper meaning is that ultimately we all have to face God alone. My spiritual director frequently quotes a Quaker saying, "To go to God is to go alone." No matter how many people and things we have to surround us, there is an existential reality to our journey that we take alone.
I do not think that alone always means lonely. In fact, often to be alone is to recover a deeper sense of who we are before God. God is far less concerned with the roles we inhabit and instead sees us as in a much more vulnerable state. There is no hiding from the reality of our decisions, the ups and the downs that constitute our lives.
And yet, God is going to ask us to engage. Sometimes we see God in a coaxing and invitational way. Other times, God comes in the night, forcing us to wrestle with the deep questions of our lives. I've always respected the tenacity of Jacob. He is going to put up a fight and demand a blessing. He will also be marked by the encounter — a limp. But that limp is the sign of his real and vulnerable engagement with God.
It is hard in our busy lives to privilege that kind of alone time with God. Even if we don't live with two wives, two maids and 11 children, distraction is around every corner. To fully reckon with our choices, the ways in which we have fallen short, requires courage. But the God who meets us in the night is willing to struggle alongside us. The new name Jacob bears means to have striven with God and humans and still prevailed. Jacob, of course, wants to know the name of this God . . . but the messenger is not willing to offer one. Instead, God offers a blessing, and in the blessing Jacob knows the encounter to be a holy one. That is the gift of true solitude. It may force us to confront those things that come in the night, but we are made stronger in the broken places.
Peace, Beth +



