"Peniel/Penuel; Jacob/Israel"

 

Genesis 32:22-31

August 2, 2026

 

The same night he 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, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket, and Jacob's hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him.

Then he said, "Let me go, for the day is breaking." But Jacob said, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me."

So he said to him, "What is your name?" And he said, "Jacob."

Then the man said, "You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans and have prevailed."

Then Jacob asked him, "Please tell me your name." But he said, "Why is it that you ask my name?" And there he blessed him.

So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, "For I have seen God face to face, yet my life is preserved."  The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.

*************************************************

 

            This Bible passage can send you down a few rabbit holes.

            I don’t know whether you caught it, but in the last two verses it refers to the place where Jacob wrestled, one time as Peniel and one time as Penuel.  I thought this might have been a typo but I looked it up and found a commentator who wrote,

“This question is an excellent example of how a question that looks very simple at first really is not simple at all. There are a few complications involved in answering this question. (Make that a lot of complications!)”[1]

He then went on at great length about each variant and where the place goes by each name in other parts of the Bible, and how a vowel could easily be mistaken – but not these vowels, and not so close together. After paragraphs and paragraphs he finally concludes,

“The lesson to be learned from Jacob’s encounter with the Lord is the same whether the place is called Peniel or Penuel or both.”

So it’s a case of potato/potahto, tomato/tomahto.  The bigger problem is figuring out what was going on at the place, and that is even more confused.

            To give the setting, many years have passed since Jacob dreamed of a ladder reaching to heaven.  He spent, all told, twenty years working for his uncle Laban, and by the time they went their separate ways Jacob had two wives, two concubines, eleven children, considerable flocks of goats and sheep, and even some oxen.  There were so many that he was able to send a whole bunch ahead of him across the river Jabbok as bribes to assuage the anger of his brother Esau, whom he had learned was in the area and headed in Jacob’s direction with four hundred armed men and a history of grievances.  In fact, he sent everyone ahead: wives, children, slaves, and livestock.

            Was it clever strategy or was it cowardice?  Was he using them as a shield or was he protecting them from pursuers? He was afraid for himself, but he was also afraid for his family.   He remembered God’s promises to his grandparents and his parents and to him and to his offspring, but he also felt he had to remind God of them.  He prayed before he sent people on ahead.

“Deliver me, please, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau, for I am afraid of him; he may come and kill us all, the mothers with the children.  Yet you have said, ‘I will surely do you good, and make your offspring as the sand of the sea, which cannot be counted because of their number.’”  [Genesis 32:11-12]

Everything was blurring together.

            The way the story is told in Genesis reflect that. Beyond the Peniel/Penuel bit, it isn’t exactly clear who Jacob ended up wrestling with that night, or why.  That part of the story begins abruptly:

“Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak.” [Genesis 32:24]

Then there’s this weird part about Jacob not wanting to let go until the man blessed him (which seems like an odd request of a stranger).  And he must have been a stranger, or Jacob wouldn’t have had to demand his name.  Then the man refused to give his name, but demanded that he be let go because the sun was coming up (almost like was a ghost or something; you’ll often hear about Jacob wrestling with an angel, even though the Bible never says that).  Whoever he was, he agrees to bless Jacob, but Jacob has to give his own name.  And then this other wrestler blesses him by changing Jacob’s name (which is an odd power to have) and calls him Israel (the one who strives with God), saying,

“You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.”  [Genesis 32:28]

Presumably he then disappears, but again the Bible doesn’t say that, and Jacob changes the name of the place to either Peniel or Penuel to indicate that it was God himself with whom he wrestled.  He said,

“I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.” [Genesis 32:30]

            It all seems like a long dream sequence, and Jacob – or Israel – was known for dreaming about angels when he was younger.  Except this time his hip has been thrown out of its socket, which isn’t just a symptom of a confused dream.  He will walk with a limp for the rest of his life.

            Try to make sense out of all of that.  I’ll give you my own take, but with the understanding that there are going to be other ways of seeing things that are less convoluted and more precise and some that may be more complicated and blurry, and that there’s something worth hearing in all of them.

            Jacob’s deepest purpose turns out to be to set the pattern for his promised offspring who would become a people known by his new name, and who would discover that their individual and collective relationship to humanity and to God are so tightly intertwined that it is impossible to separate and compartmentalize them.  The proper worship of God is tied to the proper respect and dignity we show God’s children.

            The faith that would grow from the troubled lives of Abraham and his family, would be the one that insists that God’s favor isn’t to be earned by assent to intellectual understanding or theological formulations, much less bought with ritual or with magical incantations and sacrifice.  The prophet Micah, for example, wrestled with what that would mean:

“With what shall I come before the Lord,

and bow myself before God on high? 

Shall I come before him with burnt offerings,

with calves a year old? 

Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams,

with ten thousands of rivers of oil? 

Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression,

 the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?

He has told you, O mortal, what is good;

and what does the Lord require of you

but to do justice, to love kindness,

and to walk humbly with your God?”  [Micah 6:6-8]

 

Limping Jacob, now Israel, would cross the river in the morning, and, after years of avoiding him, reconcile with his brother who, as it turned out, had forgiven him already.

As Christians, who follow one who was God in the flesh, our own purpose is to love and engage seriously with him through engaging with one another.

“Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another.  No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.” [I John 4:11-12]

Try wrestling with that, not in the abstract, but in what it means in the most difficult parts of your life.  There may be a change in how you view yourself or how others identify you, and it may hurt.  But on the other side of it lies a blessing, even a victory,

“For you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.” [Genesis 32:28]

 

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[1] Why is there so much confusion concerning the spelling of "Peniel" and "Penuel?" (Genesis 32:30-31) - The Wartburg Project

"Here Come the Brides"

 

Genesis 29:15-28

July 26, 2026

 

Then Laban said to Jacob, "Because you are my kinsman, should you therefore serve me for nothing? Tell me, what shall your wages be?"  Now Laban had two daughters; the name of the elder was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel.  Leah's eyes were weak, but Rachel was graceful and beautiful.  Jacob loved Rachel, so he said, "I will serve you seven years for your younger daughter Rachel."  Laban said, "It is better that I give her to you than that I should give her to any other man; stay with me."  So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of his love for her.

 

Then Jacob said to Laban, "Give me my wife that I may go in to her, for my time is completed."

So Laban gathered together all the people of the place and made a feast.  But in the evening he  took his daughter Leah and brought her to Jacob, and he went in to her.  (Laban gave his maid Zilpah to his daughter Leah to be her maid.)

 

When morning came, it was Leah! And Jacob said to Laban, "What is this you have done to me? Did I not serve with you for Rachel? Why then have you deceived me?"  Laban said, "This is not done in our country--giving the younger before the firstborn. Complete the week of this one, and we will give you the other also in return for serving me another seven years."

 

Jacob did so and completed her week; then Laban gave him his daughter Rachel as a wife.

 

****************************************

 

 

            I’m going to ask David Bryant to play through a piece of music I downloaded this past week. It was recorded in 1968 by everyone’s favorite rapper: Perry Como.  The title is “Seattle”.

 

            So what does this have to do with Jacob and Laban and Rachel and Leah (and Zilpah, not to forget her)?  This music was the theme song for a TV series set in the early days of Seattle that ran for two seasons.  The series was called “Here Come the Brides”.  That would be a good title for this further incident in Jacob’s life.

 

            Having gone on the run for having scammed his brother one time too many, he reached his uncle Laban’s house, where his mother had assured him he would be safe.  Well… yes and no.  He was safe from his brother’s threats to kill him but he was not safe, as it turned out, from Laban taking advantage of Jacob’s affection for his daughter Rachel.  Jacob worked seven years for Laban as the bride-price to marry her, only to discover after it was too late that it had been her older sister Leah beneath the bridal veil and that he would have to work another seven years for Laban to rectify the situation.  During that seven years, Jacob (and not Laban) would be supporting Leah, his unexpected second wife, so that would have been a bonus for his now father-in-law.  Laban may have softened any hard feelings that Leah had by giving her her own slave, Zilpah, to take care of her.  Jacob would have to support Zilpah, too. 

 

This marriage had become a windfall for Laban and a serious financial burden for Jacob.  It made Jacob’s trickery toward Esau look like the work of an amateur.  If you read on, as I hope you will, you’ll see that Jacob’s response was, “Game on!”  He had seven years to break even at Laban’s expense, and he set about it right away.

 

Now, I am not endorsing the practice of fraud or deceit.  We have all seen the harm they do.  Everybody has a story about the relative or neighbor who was taken to the cleaners, or almost, by a fake letter from the IRS or a phone call from a non-existent credit bureau.  Last year I had to deal with a check stolen from a mailbox at the Exton Post Office that somebody altered and tried to deposit at a bank in Delaware.  It is not possible to guard against every single bad actor.  Laban and Jacob’s back-and-forth contest ultimately hurt both of them and depended (in the part of the story we heard today) on the exploitation of women who were treated as property or at best as financial investments.

 

Nevertheless, this story illustrates a couple of observation that Jesus made.  He saw that

 

“The children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.” [Luke 16:8]

 

So he warned his disciples,

 

“See, I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” [Matthew 10:16]

 

Which is to say, “You have been given great gifts.  Use them always for good and never for evil.”

Street smarts are not necessarily a bad thing.  They can do some good.  In fact, you may need them.

 

            Jesus had to handle some delicate situations and there were people who wanted him out of the way, Luke tells us.

 

“So they watched him and sent spies who pretended to be honest, in order to trap him by what he said, so as to hand him over to the jurisdiction and authority of the governor.  So they asked him, ‘Teacher, we know that you are right in what you say and teach, and you show deference to no one, but teach the way of God in accordance with truth.  Is it lawful for us to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?’  But he perceived their craftiness and said to them, ‘Show me a denarius.  Whose head and whose title does it bear?’  They said, ‘The emperor’s.’  He said to them, ‘Then give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.’” [Luke 20:20-25]

 

Know the people you’re dealing with.  Laban did.  Soon Jacob did, too.  Others have used the same ability, too, and for better ends than theirs.

 

Paul wanted to get the attention of the Greek philosophers when he visited Athens, so he went where they gathered, and he spoke in their terms.  In the synagogues he would begin with the scriptures, but here he began with a quotations about an overarching god taken from a Stoic philosopher and another Greek playwright.

 

“‘In him we live and move and have our being’; as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we too are his offspring.’” [Acts 17:28]

 

He didn’t win many over, but they did listen, which was more than most outsiders got.  It was worth a try.  Again, as Jesus said when he was using parables to teach,

 

“Every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.” [Matthew 52]

 

            If only Jesus’ followers used all of our creativity and ingenuity to share the good news – the way he did, looking around him at how people behaved in the marketplace or at a wedding or noting how seeds grow or which houses hold up when there is a flood. He took bread and wine left over after the Passover meal and turned them into a pledge of his ongoing presence. 

 

Surely he’s given us plenty of examples of how to understand and experience God’s love, which is all around us to be known and shared.  Maybe even an old Perry Como tune from an unsuccessful TV show could somehow be repurposed.  Who knows?  God is a real artist at that.

 

 

 

 

“God the Artist”   (Tune: Seattle)

 

There’s a rhythm to this world

the Lord has given.

There’s a timing to the whirlwind

that we live in.

When we listen we hear

through each laugh and each tear

how God’s love is breaking through

with a symphony that’s new –

maybe jazz, or even blues –

songs of heaven,

songs of heaven.

 

There’s a story God will tell

if we let him.

There’s a poetry as well

            rhyming heaven.

When we’d spoiled the plot,

            graceful language forgot,

Then the Word came down to earth

            and his love restored our worth.

Now he offers us new birth and

            resurrection,

            resurrection.

 

There’s a texture to the way

            God’s hand shapes us.

From the basic dust and clay

            he awakes us.

Then his brush decorates

            our lives with a glaze

that will shimmer and will shine

            and reflect his light divine;

God’s own glory in his time

            overtakes us,

            overtakes us.

 

"With God's Help"

 

Genesis 25:19-34

July 12, 2026

 

These are the descendants of Isaac, Abraham's son: Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac was forty years old when he married Rebekah, daughter of Bethuel the Aramean of Paddan-aram, sister of Laban the Aramean. Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife because she was barren, and the Lord granted his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived.

The children struggled together within her, and she said, "If it is to be this way, why do I live?" So she went to inquire of the Lord. And the Lord said to her, "Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples born of you shall be divided; the one shall be stronger than the other; the elder shall serve the younger." When her time to give birth was at hand, there were twins in her womb.

The first came out red, all his body like a hairy mantle, so they named him Esau. Afterward his brother came out, with his hand gripping Esau's heel, so he was named Jacob. Isaac was sixty years old when she bore them. When the boys grew up, Esau was a skillful hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob was a quiet man, living in tents. Isaac loved Esau because he was fond of game, but Rebekah loved Jacob.

Once when Jacob was cooking a stew, Esau came in from the field, and he was famished. Esau said to Jacob, "Let me eat some of that red stuff, for I am famished!" (Therefore he was called Edom.)

Jacob said, "First sell me your birthright."

Esau said, "I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?"

Jacob said, "Swear to me first." So he swore to him and sold his birthright to Jacob. Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and drank and rose and went his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright.

 

***************************************

 

            I ran into an awkward spot planning the service for this week.  We were going to have a handbell rendition of “O Beautiful, For Spacious Skies” last week, but it was bumped to this week.  That posed a problem because after hearing about how Jacob treated Esau from the moment of their birth and how he tricked him out of his place of honor it seemed out of line to ask God to “crown the good with brotherhood” if that is how brothers treat one another.

            Again, this is one of those spots in the Bible where you can tell it wasn’t all meant to be read in the short chunks we are used to.  Something like the Proverbs, yes.  Genesis, no.  In Genesis we watch Jacob – and to a lesser extent Esau – grow up and mature and escape the patterns of their early life.  Esau had been born first, which gave him precedence in the family and social order, but Jacob had grabbed him by the heel as they were being born, and that was taken as descriptive of their later relationship.

            You expect that toddlers will be self-centered.  You try to make sure that does not grow into becoming selfish.  When parents play favorites, that gets in the way, and Genesis tells us that the differences of temperament between the twins were allowed to go sour in part because of their parents’ attitudes.

“When the boys grew up, Esau was a skillful hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob was a quiet man, living in tents.  Isaac loved Esau because he was fond of game, but Rebekah loved Jacob.”  [Genesis 25:27-28]

This story tells of how Jacob tricked Esau out of his privileges as the firstborn, and the way the story is told blames Esau for falling for it.

“Once when Jacob was cooking a stew, Esau came in from the field, and he was famished. Esau said to Jacob, ‘Let me eat some of that red stuff, for I am famished!’  (Therefore he was called Edom.)

Jacob said, ‘First sell me your birthright.’

Esau said, ‘I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?’

Jacob said, ‘Swear to me first.’  So he swore to him and sold his birthright to Jacob.  Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and drank and rose and went his way.  Thus Esau despised his birthright.”  [Genesis 25:29-34]

Again, though, this wasn’t going to be the end of the tale.   The lentil stew incident would be exactly that – one incident, worth remembering, but not the whole story.  

There was another aspect to the boys’ situation in the family.  There was this aspect of their social standing, where Esau had in fact shown poor judgment.  But there was also the question of who would receive their father’s blessing as the one whose descendants would be seen as being in full succession to their grandfather Abraham, to whom God had promised the entire land.  Since Esau was Isaac’s favorite, he was the leading contender.

            Rebekah’s favorite was Jacob, though, and when Isaac was bedfast and blind, she set things up with Jacob’s cooperation (or connivance, depending on how you see it) so that Isaac would bless Jacob, thinking that he was blessing Esau.  Now, Esau may have been big and hairy but he was not stupid and he figured out what had happened right away.  He was so angry that he swore to kill Jacob.  Jacob had to go on the run because he knew that Esau would do it if he could.

            That throws everything into a different light. Esau couldn’t be blamed the way he could the first time.  It all gets complicated.  Reading on, as we will over the next couple of weeks, those complications begin to come together – with God’s help.  All of this is the background for that.  Spoiler alert: Jacob will meet his match in the person of his (and Esau’s) uncle Laban.  Esau will go his own way and put this all behind him.  Jacob will have to struggle with his flaws eventually – with God’s help.  He will find the courage to face his brother years later and they will reconcile – with God’s help.  Their descendants will repeat the cycle in one way or another in later books of the Bible and will work things out for better or for worse, depending on their willingness to accept God’s help.

            Despite how much later generations may want to tell the story as if it were all black and white, they don’t ever manage to do that.  The only way that it ever works out for the best is when they reach the point where they stop trying to assign blame and set aside judgment, leaving it in God’s hands – with his help.

            This is not just about two brothers, or their descendants, or the nations that they formed and lost and re-founded and lost again across the ages.  This is about humankind itself.  We fail as people.  Maybe I should say, “As people, we fail.”  We sin.  We let God down, we let each other down, we let ourselves down.  But God’s help abides, as God abides.

            The first letter of John says:

“This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all.  If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true; but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”  [I John 1:5-9]

We are children of God, still and always growing in grace.

 

"Bethel" - July 19, 2026

 

Genesis 28:10-19a

July 19, 2026

 

Jacob left Beer-sheba and went toward Haran.

He came to a certain place and stayed there for the night, because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of the place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place.

And he dreamed that there was a stairway set up on the earth, the top of it reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it.

And the Lord stood beside him and said, "I am the Lord, the God of Abraham your father and the God of Isaac; the land on which you lie I will give to you and to your offspring, and your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth, and you shall spread abroad to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south, and all the families of the earth shall be blessed in you and in your offspring.

Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go and will bring you back to this land, for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you."

Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said, "Surely the Lord is in this place--and I did not know it!" And he was afraid and said, "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven."

So Jacob rose early in the morning, and he took the stone that he had put under his head and set it up for a pillar and poured oil on the top of it. He called that place Bethel, but the name of the city was Luz at the first.

**********************

 

            Jacob was on the run from his brother, who had sworn to hunt him down and kill him.  If he could reach Haran, the town in the north where his family first came from, and where his uncle Laban lived, he would be safe.  Until he got there his life would be in danger.  Remember how, not long ago, there was a man who escaped from the county prison?  Remember how he was hunted for almost a week and hid out while the police were combing the woods and fields from Longwood to Nantmeal, from Chadds Ford to Warwick?  Picture Jacob in that sort of situation.  But there comes a time when exhaustion overcomes fear, and that is where Jacob was.

“He came to a certain place and stayed there for the night, because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of the place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place.”  [Genesis 28:11]

Imagine being so tired that you can use a stone for a pillow and still nod off.

            Would you sleep well?  As much as your body would shut down, do you think your mind would do that?  I’ll just speak for myself here.  I’m one of those people who falls asleep easily.  I can sleep on a train or a plane with no problem.  Generally, 10:00 or so comes around and no matter where I am, my eyes droop.  Once I’ve had some kind of rest, though, whatever the previous day has held or whatever I expect for the coming day will filter its way into my thoughts and I start dreaming.  It doesn’t have to make sense, as long as there’s some kind of connection.  If I’ve had a flat tire I might dream about donuts.  If I got stuck on a crossword puzzle hours before I might dream about playing scrabble or about being in a room with black and white tiles on the floor.  Sometimes I will wake up with a to-do list on my mind and ten minutes to go before the alarm clock, which I really resent because it feels too soon to get up but too late to go back to sleep.

            So, yes, I am projecting my own stuff onto Jacob, but I don’t see how he could have slept and dreamt without turning his situation round and round in his head no matter how tired he was.  What lay behind?  What lay ahead?  Would he survive the middle?

            One word of caution here: not every dream has a deep significance.  A man I knew was a psychiatrist who worked at a Veterans’ Administration clinic where it would not be unusual for a patient to walk up to him, describe a dream, and ask, “What does that mean?”  His standard answer was, “It means don’t eat ice cream right before you go to bed.”

            At times of severe stress, though, it may be that only when that the physical necessity to sleep are we able to make any kind of assessment of our own situation.  It may be, as I think it’s safe to say about Jacob, that only when he had to slow down whether he wanted to or not, would he be paying enough attention to anything other than his fear to hear what God was saying to him over the noise of his thoughts.

“Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go and will bring you back to this land, for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.’" [Genesis 28:15]

In the midst of external danger and internally a potential nightmare of fears, God found the one opening he had and used it, telling Jacob, “Get a grip.  You’re safe with me.”

            Apparently, Jacob had never fully realized that God is God not just of the beginning and the destination, but the God of the entire journey.  When that light dawned on him, he was amazed.

“Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said, ‘Surely the Lord is in this place--and I did not know it!’  And he was afraid and said, ‘How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.’" [Genesis 28:16-17]

That’s a far cry from, “Oh, no!  I’m going to be caught and killed!”  Jacob named the place where he had his dream-vision “Beth-El”, which means “the House of God”.   

It’s not an accident, by the way, that a lot of AME churches, at least the older ones in this part of the country, are named Bethel.  In the decades just before the Civil War, fugitives from slavery, running for safety and refuge in Canada, could generally find a protected place to rest, as had Jacob, at a place called Bethel.  Such a place is not the destination, but a gateway, and a place where it becomes visible that there are others traveling the path so that no one heading in the right direction would travel alone.

Anne Lamott, in her book Traveling Mercies, tells of a time when she was mourning the loss of a close friend.  She and her son, then two-and-a-half years old, had a chance to take a brief vacation in a Mexican beach town where there was a circus school.  (As Bishop Peggy Johnson used to say, “You can’t make this stuff up.”)  Anyway, here’s what Ann Lamott wrote about that trip:

“There was a man here this time with just one leg.  I’d seen his prosthetic leg lying around him by the pool a few times before I actually saw him, and when I did, he was climbing up a trapeze ladder in the circus grounds. …

He climbed the ladder with disjointed grace, asymmetrical but not clumsy, rung by rung, focused and steady and slow.  Then he reached the platform, put on his safety harness, and swung out over the safety net, his one leg hooked over the bar of the trapeze, swinging back and forth, and finally letting go.  A teacher on the other trapeze swung toward him, and they caught each other’s hands and held on, and they swung back and forth for a while.  Then he dropped on his back to the safety net and raised his fist in victory.  ‘Yes,’ he said, and lay there on the net for a long time, looking at the sky with a secret smile.

I approached him shyly at lunch the next day and said, ‘You were great on the trapeze.  Are you going to do it again?’  And I had this idea that he might so that I could do some serious writing about spirit and guts and triumph.  But all he said was, ‘Honey?  I got much bigger mountains to climb.’”[1]

By the way, the chapter where Ann Lamott tells this story is called “Ladders”.

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[1] Ann Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith (New York: Anchor Books, 2000) 74-75.