CMLC 2026-08-02 Sermon

What do you buy your father for his 75th birthday?

Oh, my word. That was this week when you realize

that your father is three quarters of a century.

Oh, my goodness. I like to say it that way, too,

when I talk about, how is it going? Three quarters

of a century, that's wonderful. Shush. And that's

the question this last week. You see, I did really

well. for Father's Day because that was when

I got him the Lou Ferrigno signed Incredible

Hulk picture and I was like man that was awesome

maybe I should have saved that one got the tie

for Father's Day but you know a 75th birthday

it feels like it deserves something meaningful

you know it's You search for the perfect gift,

something maybe connected to a hobby or something

memorable, something that expresses gratitude

for a lifetime of love. Maybe you try to find

something that is from 1951, but it's probably

spoiled or broken by now. And then you realize

something. When someone has lived that long,

they often already have what they want anyway.

If it's valuable, they may already own it. And

if it's not exactly right, well... Come on, at

75 people get picky. The more I thought about

it, the more I realized I was asking the wrong

question. I was asking, what should I buy him

that would be perfect? But maybe a better question

was, how do I show him that I value him? I cherish

him, I'm grateful for him. No gift can really

complete a relationship. A present... It cannot

replace years of sacrifice, love, memories. It

simply becomes one small way of saying, I know

you, I love you, I'm thankful for you. The relationship

is what matters. I bought him a Home Depot gift

card. It's gonna be great. He needs a bunch of

stuff there. He's gonna be glad. We're gonna

do a hike this next week. My sister got him some

of those night vision goggles. She's very creative.

Yeah, it's gonna be good. But you know, perhaps

that's how we often approach life. We keep searching

for the perfect answer. We want the perfect decision,

the perfect solution that finally settles everything.

We want the diagnosis that removes every fear.

The conversation that fixes every relationship.

The ministry effort that reaches everybody. The

decision that would guarantee that everything's

gonna be alright. We long for certainty. But

often what we really want is certainty about

everything, except the one thing we already know,

that God loves us. And again and again, God answers

our longing in an unexpected way. Instead of

giving us certainty about tomorrow, He gives

us certainty about Himself. That's what we end

up seeing with Jacob. Jacob spent his life trying

to create certainty through his own strength.

His name tells the story. Jacob means heel grabber

or the one who grasps. From the beginning, Jacob

reached for what he wanted. He grasped for Esau's

birthright. He grasped for his father's blessing

through deception. He grasped for security and

control. Whenever life became uncertain, Jacob

tried to solve the problem himself. And eventually,

his deception caught up with him. And Esau, he

found out, and he was ready to kill him. So,

you do what any good younger brother would do

at a moment like that? Run away. Bravely run

away. And he went to live with his uncle Laban,

hoping that life would become easier. But instead,

the deceiver became the deceived. Jacob worked

seven years to marry Rachel, but Laban tricked

him into marrying Leah instead. You should probably

check first, Jacob. Jacob then worked another

seven years for Rachel. And for 20 years, if

you include the additional years where Jacob

was trying to make his fortune and Laban kept

tricking him, Jacob experienced what it felt...

to live under the manipulation He had once practiced

on others. Sometimes God teaches us through blessings.

Sometimes He teaches us by letting us see ourselves

more clearly. Not because He wants to destroy

or humiliate us, but because He wants to transform

us. Finally, Jacob leaves Laban, and he begins

the journey home. And the news comes, Esau is

coming. He has 400 men with him. And suddenly

Jacob's past comes rushing right back. You ever

experience that? The old wounds, the old regrets,

the old fears. You think you've moved beyond

something, but you discover it waiting for you

again. And Jacob responds the way that Jacob

always responds. He plans, he plots, he prepares.

He sends gifts ahead. He divides his family into

groups, but after all his planning one thing

remains beyond his control tomorrow That night

Jacob sends everyone across the river his wives

his children his servants everything that represents

his success Everything he's built and Jacob is

alone No possessions no schemes no negotiations

Just Jacob and God Genesis tells us Jacob was

left alone and a man wrestled with him until

the breaking of the day Jacob doesn't know yet

who he's wrestling If you're reading this in

the Hebrew, you'll hear something beautiful at

the Yabak Yakov begins to Yavak say it three

times fast. That's awesome at the Javak Jacob

began to wrestle The one who spent his life grasping

for blessings is now just holding on There's

an important detail in the text that we often

miss though the translation It will often say

when the man saw that he did not prevail against

Jacob But the Hebrew it actually says when he

saw that he did not prevail Who was he? The answer

becomes clear in the next verse With a touch,

God puts Jacob's hip out of joint. God is never

defeated. There's never a contest to determine

who's actually stronger. The question is not

who will win. The question is, what is God actually

doing? So God was bringing Jacob to the place

where he finally encountered someone he could

not manipulate. He couldn't deceive. He couldn't

control. And Jacob says, I will not let you go

unless you bless me. And notice the change. Jacob

is no longer trying to take the blessing. He's

asking to receive it. He's begging. That is where

transformation begins. God asks Jacob, what is

your name? Strange question, right? God already

knows his name. Why does he need to ask? But

it's not for God. It's for Jacob. Because Jacob

must say it himself. Jacob, the heel grabber,

the deceiver. The man who spent his life trying

to secure blessings by his own strength. And

God says, your name shall no longer be called

Jacob. But Israel, for you have striven with

God and with men and have prevailed. Jacob receives

a new identity. His life will no longer be defined

by grasping. It will be defined by living in

relationship with the God who met him in the

struggle. And notice what God does not give him.

He doesn't tell Jacob exactly what's going to

happen tomorrow. He doesn't say, don't worry,

Esau's not going to hurt you. He doesn't remove

every uncertainty. Instead, God gives him something

greater. He gives him Himself. Jacob still has

to cross the river. He still has to face Esau.

He still has to confront the years of guilt and

fear. But now, Jacob is different. Before God

gives him certainty about circumstance, He gives

him certainty about his identity. Jacob names

the place Peniel. For I have seen God face to

face, penny -ale, and yet my life has been delivered.

The one Jacob thought was only a man was God

Himself. The one that Jacob feared might destroy

him had come to bless him. The sun rises, and

Jacob walks away with a limp, even more vulnerable

than before. See, the wrestling changed him,

but it didn't remove him from struggle. He still

had to trust God. Maybe even more now. The certainty

was not found in the circumstance. The certainty

was found in God's presence. And that's exactly

what Jesus' disciples were learning as well.

Matthew's Gospel begins with another impossible

situation. Jesus had just learned. that John

the Baptist was killed. John was the one sent

to prepare the way for the Messiah. His cousin.

The news was heartbreaking. And Matthew tells

us that he withdrew from there in a boat to a

desolate place by himself. Jesus sought solitude.

Perhaps he wanted to pray. Perhaps he needed

to grieve. But the crowds followed him. And when

Jesus saw them, Matthew tells his, he had compassion

on them and healed their sick. The word Matthew

uses for compassion describes a deep heartfelt

mercy. Jesus doesn't merely notice the suffering.

He enters into it. He heals. He teaches. He serves.

As evening comes, the disciples begin doing what

seems reasonable. They calculate the situation.

There's thousands of people. There's not enough

food. The nearest villages are far away. The

solution? Send the crowds away into the villages

and buy food for themselves. Makes sense. It's

practical. But Jesus responds, they need not

go away. You give them something to eat. The

emphasis in the Greek is on the word you. Can

you imagine the disciples looking around, Lord,

did you learn how to count? Do you see how many

people are here? Their answer reveals what they

see. We have only five loaves here and two fish.

Only. Look what happens when you use the word

only with God. That word reveals their perspective.

They see what they lack. They see their limitations.

They see an impossible situation. And how often

do we do the same? I only have so much time.

I only have so many resources. I only have these

abilities. I only know how to do this much. We

measure God's calling by what we can accomplish.

But Jesus does not ask the disciples what they

do not have. He doesn't ask what they can accomplish.

Instead, He asks them to bring to Him what they

have. Bring them here to Me. Bring what you have.

Bring what seems too small. Bring what seems

inadequate. Bring it to Me. That's faith. Faith

is not having every answer when we begin. Faith

is trusting Christ enough to place what we have

into His hands. Jesus did not explain it before

He did it. Jacob didn't have an explanation about

tomorrow. He received a new name. The disciples

didn't receive an explanation about the miracle.

They received a command from Jesus. In both stories,

God gives His presence before He gives an explanation.

And that's still how He works. Jesus takes the

five loaves and the two fish, and He looks toward

heaven, and He blesses them. And He breaks the

bread, and He gave them to the disciples, and

the disciples gave them to the crowds. And I

want you to notice what Jesus does. He doesn't

place the food directly into the hands of the

crowd. Here you go, here you go, I'm Jesus, you're

welcome. He places it into the hands of His disciples.

and Christ chooses to work through His people.

It's not because He can't do it Himself. It's

because He delights in including them in His

work. The miracle belongs entirely to Jesus,

and the disciples have the privilege of participating.

And by the end of the day, they all ate and were

satisfied. Everyone received what they needed.

They gathered the leftovers. Was it a few pieces

remaining? Just a little bit here and a little

bit there? Twelve baskets full. They looked at

five loaves and two fish and thought, there's

not enough. And now, each one of them carries

evidence of God's abundance. Twelve baskets.

Every disciple has a basket full. What changed?

Not their resources. Not their abilities. Christ.

The issue was never whether Jesus could provide.

The issue was whether they trusted Him enough

to bring Him what they had. And that is where

these two stories meet our lives as well. Because

the wrestling, it doesn't happen only beside

the Javok River. It happens in our hearts. We

wrestle with decisions. We wrestle with disappointment.

We wrestle with grief. wrestle with guilt, broken

relationships, children and grandchildren we

worry about, health concerns, questions where

we don't have easy answers. But Meath, much of

that wrestling is the same desire Jacob carried.

We want certainty. We want to know we made the

right decision. We want to know who to blame,

and we want to know it wasn't us. We want to

know things are going to work out. And we want

to know that our efforts mattered and that the

future is set before we step into it. But God,

always the great way to start any sentence. But

God often gives us something different. He does

not always give us the answer we want, but he

does give us his presence. Our temptation is

to believe that if we can just simply identify

the problem, fix the situation, or find someone

to blame, then peace will come. We sound like

a bunch of engineers, right? But scripture gives

us a deeper picture. People are complicated.

Jacob was deceptive. Laban was deceptive. Esau

was capable of great hatred. Murderous to begin.

But God continued working through all of them.

Because the Bible doesn't ignore sin. But it

also never reduces people to just their worst

moments. Healing requires more than finding someone

to blame. Healing requires forgiveness despite

our seething anger. Healing requires admitting

that humans are just doing their best. It requires

humility. It requires patience. It requires Christ.

See, we often imagine that if one problem is

solved, everything will finally become peaceful.

This situation gets fixed, it'll all be okay.

This struggle ends, then I can finally rest.

But then life continues. One season gives way

to another. One responsibility leads to another.

The laundry keeps coming through. That does not

mean that God has failed. It means God is still

walking with us. The Christian life is not about

reaching a place where there's no more struggle.

It's about learning to walk faithfully with Christ

through every season. And the same is true in

the church. You know, we can sometimes treat

ministry like a checklist. We completed the event.

We made the visit. We helped someone in need.

Now we're finished. Get back to your life, right?

But love is not a project. Discipleship is not

an event. Faithfulness is not something we complete.

It is something we live. Jesus did not treat

people as projects. He taught, He healed, He

forgave, He fed, and then He did it all over

again. Wash, rinse, repeat. Because love continues.

The church is called to do the same. Not because

we believe that we can solve every problem, but

because Christ continues loving His people through

us. See, Jacob wrestled beside the Javok, but

in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus wrestled in

the darkness alone. And He prayed, my Father,

if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me.

Nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will.

Jesus was not searching for some easy resolution.

He already knew what awaited Him. He was entrusting

Himself to the Father. See, in Jesus, we see

the face of God made flesh. The God who met Jacob

in mystery comes to us in mercy. And nowhere

is that mercy clearer than at Calvary. Because

at the cross, People challenge Jesus. If you're

the Son of God, we'll come down from the cross.

Easy peasy. Isn't that often what we want from

God? Explain everything. Show me why it happened.

Tell me how it will end. Solve it and then I'll

trust you. Jesus does not come down from the

cross. It's not because He lacked the power.

But remaining there is how He saves us. Because

the greatest victory in history looked like defeat.

The greatest act of love looked like failure,

and the greatest hero was vilified and treated

as a criminal by good people. But Easter revealed

what God had been accomplishing all along. Jacob

understood the blessing when the sun rose, and

the disciples understood the miracle when the

baskets were full. And the apostles, they understood

the cross when Jesus rose from the grave. Sometimes

we look back and we realize the Lord was carrying

me. The Lord was working. The Lord was present

even when I could not see Him. The Lord was blessing

even when I was working against Him. Not every

question receives an answer in this life. Some

wounds remain. Some prayers are unfinished. Some

struggles continue. but Christ remains. We are

not called to manufacture certainty. We're called

to faithfulness. Before God explains your future,

He gives you a new identity. In baptism by faith,

He has claimed you as His child. Before He answers

every question, He gives you His promise that

your identity is not built on your success, but

it's also not built on your failures. It's built

on Jesus. God's answer to our wrestling is not

certainty. It is His presence. And that is enough.

For if Christ is with us, no struggle is wasted.

No prayer is unheard. No act of faithfulness

is forgotten. No labor in the Lord is in vain.

Because one day, the wrestling will end. Faith

will become sight. Every tear will be wiped away

and Christ will make all things new. But until

then, He has not called us to find easy answers

without Him. He has called us to walk faithfully

with Him. And I would rather spend a lifetime

wrestling with Christ beside me than find an

easy answer without Him. In His name, Amen.