Growing up, our daughter, Claire, fought us on everything. She was a very independent little being, and she asserted that sense of independence every chance she got. My mother used to shake her head and wonder why Claire would fight us at every turn, knowing she would be disciplined or corralled back to our will.

 Once when Claire was quite unhappy with something we ordained for her, she threatened to run away. Hands on hips she bellowed down the stairs, “I am running away! And you don’t have to worry about me, because I CAN MAKE SCRAMBLED EGGS!” 

What a poignant allegory to our contending with God. C.S. Lewis wrote:

It would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.

Claire didn’t like our parameters. So she fought them. Even though living within them was the the best, safest, most loving place to be, she railed against them. And even though our provision included things like toys, a warm bed, mac and cheese, and her beloved fettuccini Alfredo, in her zeal for independence she would have preferred to wander homeless in the neighborhood living off scrambled eggs rather than trust us and the wonderful plans we had for her as our daughter. How many times did she have to fight and repent before she realized we knew what was best for her? Too many to count. She contended with us well into her teens!  

This life is fraught with contention. It’s everywhere. In sports. In schools. In the culture. In our homes. And in our hearts. Will we, as followers of our Lord Jesus Christ, choose to rail against him as we object to what he has ordained for our lives, or will we contend with him in order to prevail in our faith, leading us to contend for him in the midst of an unbelieving world ?

Contending With God

Genesis 32 tells the story of a man who contended with God in the midst of a great trial. Jacob was in fear for his life. His brother Esau, whom he had betrayed, was coming to meet him. Jacob took measures to secure his property and his family, but he was still afraid. One night, he found himself wrestling with God. He wrestled all night long until the sun came up, earning a dislocated hip in the process. He refused to stop wrestling until God blessed him. He received his blessing, but walked with a limp for the rest of his life. Jacob contended with God in his fear, and came out a wounded yet stronger believer. Matthew Henry wrote,

Wrestling believers may obtain glorious victories, and yet come off with broken bones; for when they are weak then are they strong, weak in themselves, but strong in Christ (2 Corinthians 12:10). Our honors and comforts in this world have their alloys.

And Jacob obtained more than a solid faith and a dislocated hip. God also made him the father of his chosen nation. 

Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel; for you have striven with God and with men and have prevailed. (Genesis 32:28)

Jacob wrestled with God in the strength of God, and became a mighty servant of God. Matthew Henry observed, “It was not in his own strength that he wrestled, nor by his own strength that he prevailed, but in and by strength derived from Heaven.”

The Apostle Paul contended with God. Like Jacob, his wrestling resulted in chronic pain and a stronger faith. (Acts 9:1-19). Paul (originally, Saul) was a murderer of Christians. Fiercely zealous for God’s law, he killed and imprisoned countless numbers of Christ followers. Until one day when he was called out by Christ himself, blinded, and brought to the truth of the God he thought he knew. Though his sight was restored, a “thorn” remained in his side, reminding him of his frailty and dependence on God. 

So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:7-10)

Jacob contended with God in a wrestling match and was wounded. Paul contended with God and tapped out after he was blinded. Both were victorious in that they eventually were made to see that what God had for them was infinitely superior than anything they could have imagined for themselves.

We are to contend with the Lord in order to prevail in our faith, not in order to prevail over him (as if we could). In that way, contending with God provides the strength and courage we need to contend for him.  

Beloved, although I was very eager to write to you about our common salvation, I found it necessary to write appealing to you to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints.” (Jude 1:3)

Contending For the Fatih

My brother, Tim, lost his son to addiction last year. His grief has found him wrestling with God, wondering why, railing against God’s sovereign decision. But contending with God has resulted in a deep and remarkable faith. He is profoundly injured, yet his faith is secure. Right after my nephew lost his battle with addiction, my brother told me, “I said I believed in Christ before this happened. I have to say it now.” Setting his jaw against the pain, he declared, “I don’t care how upset my family gets with me. I am going to share Christ with them. There is just too much at stake.” Tim’s contending with God resulted in his becoming a fierce contender for him. And it’s starting to show fruit. 

We are called to emulate Paul, thorn and all, in order to shine light in this ever-darkening world:

I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths. As for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry. (2 Timothy 4:1-5)

Christians who have wrestled with their God and prevailed in their faith are swept up in a holy dichotomy. We are weak, weary from the fight. Our toes are bruised from “kicking against the goads” (Acts 26:14). But our weakness is our greatest weapon, because it activates God’s strength. And in his strength, we can contend for the faith, bringing the gospel to a dying world.

The result is glorious: 

For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing. (2 Timothy 4:6-8)

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