In the Western tradition, we have grown up thinking that names do not necessarily mean anything. But that is not the case in many other cultures. In many cultures, names carry meaning. Generally people and even pet are named after events, circumstances, or hopes surrounding their birth.
For instance, if a family is going through difficult times, a child may be given the name Grace to signify divine grace. If the family wants to express joy, a child may be named Happiness. In my culture, for instance, the name Kapya simply means “second twin.” Each time I hear someone named Kapya, I know that he or she is a second twin. This name is predetermined! We have no choice.
This was also the tradition in the biblical world: names carried meaning. Every name told a story. Abraham means “father of many nations.” Isaac means “he laughs,” reflecting Sarah’s laughter when the angel announced that she would conceive in her old age. Jacob carries the sense of one who follows, grasps, deceives, or seizes. In my culture, he might have been called Kapya—the one who follows the firstborn.
In the story we read recently, however, Jacob’s name was changed to Israel, meaning, “You have struggled with God and with humans and have prevailed.”
It is this element that I want us to focus on today.
We are often made to believe that being a Christian means having an easy life. Things will always go our way. Life will be smooth. I pray that it will be so. But that is not always the case.
Jacob is about to meet his twin brother, Esau, whom he had deceived and from whom he had taken the birthright. He is afraid. So he sends his servants ahead of him. Then he sends his children and wives. He is manipulative. He thinks, if they are attacked and killed, I will run away.
Indeed, he is still Jacob—the one who follows or deceives.
But little does he realize that he is still alone and vulnerable to a sudden attack. And when the struggle comes, it becomes the fight of his life.
He wrestles throughout the night. He fights until dawn. Then he is asked, “What is your name?”
“Jacob!”
But the answer is, in effect: You are no longer Jacob. You are Israel.
“You have wrestled with God and with humans, and you have prevailed.”
We are told that Jacob could not walk properly after that encounter. He was limping.
Friends, being a child of God does not mean that we will never struggle. Sometimes, being a child of God means wrestling with God through those long nights when we cannot sleep and we cry out, “God, where are you? Why me? Why is this happening?”
It means struggling with the consequences of our own actions when they put us at risk and we have nowhere to turn but to the mercy of God. When we cry, Lord, have mercy on me.
It means wrestling with people when they betray us, disappoint us, or hurt us.
But here is the good news: God does not abandon us in the struggle.
Through God’s faithfulness, we can emerge from our struggles with a new identity. Jacob entered the night as Jacob, but he came out of it as Israel. His struggle became part of his story. His wound became a reminder of his encounter with God.
Our struggles may change us. They may leave us limping. But they do not have to destroy us. They give us a new name–a child of God.
Sometimes, the very struggle we wish we could avoid becomes the place where God gives us a new name, a new identity, and a new understanding of who we are–children of God.
May God give us the grace to remain faithful as we wrestle with God, and, by divine grace, to prevail in all our struggles.
Amen.
From the E-Crier of August 13, 2026. Subscribe to the weekly newsletter.