There is something extraordinarily beautiful about the death of Jesus. Apart from its saving meaning for the whole world, look at the way He dies. From the Cross He prays, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing" (Luke 23:34), and then He says, "Father, into Your hands I commend My spirit" (Luke 23:46). He hands Himself over to the Father only after forgiving those who crucified Him. His enemies, you and me, the whole of humanity for whose sins He was offered, are gathered into that prayer of forgiveness.
That is a death worth imitating. Yet how often do people say, especially after being wounded by somebody they trusted, "Even if I die, I will not forgive this person"? I once heard a story about a dying man who called his wife and his son and made one stand on his left and the other on his right. When people asked why, he said, "I want to die like Jesus died, in the middle of two thieves." There is humour in that, but there is also the contradiction of Christian life. If he really wanted to die as Jesus died, the first thing he needed to do was forgive his wife and his son.
If you ask me what the most outstanding teaching of Christ is, I would say love for enemies. Loving those who love us is not extraordinary. Anybody can do that. Jesus asks His disciples to go one step further and love those who hate them (Matthew 5:44-47). That is Christianity. Yet this is also the place where many Christians struggle most. I admit that forgiveness can be very difficult, especially when the hurt has come through somebody close to us, but difficult does not mean impossible. For the person who believes in the crucified Jesus, the grace to forgive is possible.
The Enmity Jacob Carried
Jacob and Esau give us one of the Bible's great pictures of long-standing enmity. Their conflict seems to begin before they are even born. Genesis says that the children struggled together within Rebekah, and when they were born Jacob came out grasping Esau's heel (Genesis 25:22-26). His very name came to carry the sense of the one who grasps the heel, the supplanter, the deceiver. In those days names carried meaning. I sometimes think we should thank God that people do not name us today according to every character defect they first notice.
Jacob then lived remarkably true to the name. Such an honest man! If people called him Jacob, he seemed determined to prove them right. He took advantage of Esau's hunger and obtained the birthright, and later he went in disguise and received the blessing intended for his brother. Esau's anger became so intense that Jacob had to run for his life.
Years passed in the household of Laban. Jacob acquired a family and possessions, but eventually the time came to return home. The problem was that home also meant Esau. The old enmity had not simply disappeared because time had passed. Jacob knew what he had done, knew the threat his brother had once made, and became deeply anxious about what would happen when they met again.
When Jacob heard that Esau was coming toward him with four hundred men, fear gripped him. He tried to prepare gifts and protect his household, but he could not control what the next day would bring. That night, near the River Jabbok, he sent his wives, children and possessions across the stream and remained alone. It was there, in the darkness and anxiety, that the real battle began.
Genesis says, "Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak" (Genesis 32:24). The mysterious man strikes Jacob's hip, yet Jacob refuses to let him go. Even with the hip out of joint he holds on and says, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me" (Genesis 32:26). Then comes the question that reaches much deeper than the name itself: "What is your name?"
When Ego Wrestles with the Spirit
I do not see Jacob's wrestling merely as a man putting on wrestling clothes, entering a ring and fighting another man all night. I see something taking place inside him. Anxiety filled him. Fear gripped him. The next day he had to face the brother he had wronged, and something within him began to speak, question and struggle.
I believe the Spirit of God was wrestling with Jacob's spirit. The message was simple: "Tomorrow you are going to meet your brother. You have deceived him. You have carried this enmity for years. Why do you not give it up? Why do you not get reconciled?" The Holy Spirit was pressing him toward forgiveness, while Jacob's ego resisted and said, "No, I will not give up."
That is the wrestling many of us know. The Holy Spirit inspires us to forgive, while ego keeps producing arguments for why we should not. We remember what the person did. We repeat the words that were spoken. We count the years of pain. We explain again why our anger is justified. The Spirit says, "Give up the enmity," and something inside us replies, "No."
Jacob's stubbornness continues until daybreak. In the way I understand the story, the warning becomes severe. If he continues resisting the divine inspiration to forgive, he risks losing the presence and grace that have sustained him. Every time we stubbornly refuse forgiveness, we should take that warning seriously. The Spirit of God, the divine gift within us, can fade from our life and leave us spiritually deserted for a time when we continually resist His grace.
Jacob finally understands what is at stake. All those years it was God who kept him. If he refuses the grace of God now, what will become of him? So he surrenders. The wrestling is no longer about proving that his ego can win. He yields his stubbornness, his pain and his resistance before the Lord and asks for a blessing.
Then God asks, "What is your name?" Jacob has to answer, "Jacob." He has to face the name he has carried, the deceiver, the man whose character has repeatedly fulfilled that label. There is shame in admitting what we are, but there is also the beginning of transformation. Grace does not merely tell Jacob to manage his old identity more politely. God gives him another name.
A New Name and a New Heart
"You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel" (Genesis 32:28). For me, that is the blessing. The old label is taken away. The man who had carried the identity of deceiver receives a new name, and with that new name I see a new heart, a new character and a new life. Forgiveness is not only about what happens to the person who hurt us. Something changes in the one who forgives.
Jacob calls the place Peniel because he has seen God face to face, and Scripture says that "the sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip" (Genesis 32:31). I love that image. There had been darkness in his life, darkness created by fear, deception and enmity. Now the sun rises upon him. First John says that the person who hates a brother walks in darkness, while love belongs to the light (1 John 2:9-11). Jacob is beginning to walk in another light because the ego has surrendered to God.
The change becomes visible immediately. Before the wrestling, Jacob was arranging everyone else around him according to fear. When Esau finally appears with the four hundred men, Jacob initially places the servants and their children first, then Leah and her children, and Rachel and Joseph last. You can see the old calculation still sitting there. If something happens, the people he values most are furthest from danger.
But then the changed man does something different. Jacob himself goes ahead of them. He no longer hides behind the others. He approaches Esau bowing to the ground seven times. That bowing speaks the repentance that pride had resisted: "I am sorry. I offended you. I cheated you. I deceived you." The man who spent years protecting himself now humbles himself before the brother he had wronged.
Then one of the most beautiful moments in the story takes place. "Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept" (Genesis 33:4). The weapons, the fear and the years of enmity lose their power in that embrace. Jacob humbles himself, Esau receives him, and the brothers weep together. The enmity finally comes to an end.
Notice what had to happen first. Jacob could not simply demand reconciliation while remaining the same Jacob. The struggle with God had to expose the struggle inside himself. Ego had to surrender. The old name had to be faced. A new heart had to be received. Then he could walk toward his brother differently.
Forgive Now and End the Enmity
Is there a wrestling going on inside you? There may be somebody who hurt you very badly, perhaps a brother or sister, another family member, a parent, a husband or wife, or somebody you trusted deeply. There may be years of deception, cruel treatment or memories from a miserable childhood. Anger comes back into the heart and says, "I cannot forgive." At the same time, the Holy Spirit is inspiring you to let the enmity end.
That is no small struggle. It is the struggle between God and ego. Ego says, "Hold on to it. Remember what they did. Do not bow. Do not give up." The Spirit says, "Forgive. Humble yourself. Surrender this to Me." There is no other Christian way around that decision. Jesus does not ask us only to love the people who have treated us well. He calls us to forgive even those who became our enemies.
Do not think that surrender means you are losing something valuable. The enmity is already costing you. Fear, anxiety and burden follow it. Jacob entered the night terrified of what Esau would do, but after surrendering his ego he came out with courage to walk ahead of his family and face his brother. Forgiveness can lift a burden that years of anger have kept on the heart.
The choice is serious because all that finally matters is the Spirit of God within us. What would our life become if, through stubborn refusal of grace, we drove ourselves into a spiritual desert? Imagine hearing the warning, "If you will not forgive, I will not be there for you anymore." Whether we like that warning or not, it exposes the real decision: do I choose God, or do I choose my ego?
Stand at the foot of the Cross and listen again to Jesus: "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." If we want to follow this Lord closely and make a difference in our families and in the world, forgiveness cannot remain something we admire in Jesus while refusing it in ourselves. As a child of God, there is only one option: forgive and give up the enmity that has been living in the heart.
Do not postpone conversion. Do not say, "I will forgive after a month." Do not say, "Tomorrow." Do not say, "Next year." Forgive now. Let your ego perish. This is about surrendering yourself to the Lord and accepting His salvation. Bring the person, the wound and the years of enmity before Him and pray sincerely: "Lord, I want to forgive. I want to give up. I want to put an end to this enmity."
Jesus did not wait for the Cross to become comfortable before He forgave. Jacob did not wait for the threat of Esau to disappear before he surrendered. The grace came when he stopped wrestling against God and allowed God to change his heart. Let the same grace work in you. Forgive now, end the enmity, and allow the Lord to give you a new heart and bring you out of darkness into His light.