Wrestling Jacob

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a huge fan of Charles Wesley. His way of weaving together profound theology and scriptural language into lyrical form goes unmatched in my opinion. Wesley’s songs have been used since their creation in the church’s worship. However, in Charles and John’s original collection of Hymns for the Use of the People Called Methodists, many of Charles’ lyrics were meant for devotional use as well. The collection was a means of teaching people Christian life and theology.

One of Charles Wesley’s greatest hymns that seldom gets attention today is “Wrestling Jacob,” also known as “Come, O, Thou Traveler Unknown.” The lack of attention it receives may have something to do with its length, as well as the fact that it is difficult to eliminate verses of the song without disrupting the structure and flow of the hymn.

The hymn takes an “inside-out” allegorical approach to scripture. This approach looks at the a scripture passage, places the person inside the story as if it part of their own testimony, and reinterprets the scripture thusly. In particular, “Wrestling Jacob” is a meditation on Charles Wesley’s own conversion through the story of Jacob and the angel found in Genesis 32:22-32. Charles becomes a figure of Jacob while the angel becomes a figure of Christ.

These lines are rich. They are beautiful. They are moving. Isaac Watts was even quoted in John’s obituary tribute to his brother Charles as having said, “…that single poem, ‘Wrestling Jacob,’ is worth all the verses I myself have written.” Certainly high praise from one of the greatest English hymn-writers of all time.  

Take a moment and read through the text of these lines. Place yourself in the story. Bask in their beauty. As we continue in this season of Lent, may these lines resonate with your own journey.

Come, O thou Traveler unknown,


Whom still I hold, but cannot see!


My company before is gone,


And I am left alone with Thee;


With Thee all night I mean to stay,


And wrestle till the break of day.

I need not tell Thee who I am,


My misery and sin declare;


Thyself hast called me by my name,


Look on Thy hands, and read it there;


But who, I ask Thee, who art Thou?


Tell me Thy name, and tell me now.

In vain Thou strugglest to get free,


I never will unloose my hold!


Art Thou the Man that died for me?


The secret of Thy love unfold;


Wrestling, I will not let Thee go,


Till I Thy name, Thy nature know.

Wilt Thou not yet to me reveal


Thy new, unutterable Name?


Tell me, I still beseech Thee, tell;


To know it now resolved I am;


Wrestling, I will not let Thee go,


Till I Thy Name, Thy nature know.

’Tis all in vain to hold Thy tongue


Or touch the hollow of my thigh;


Though every sinew be unstrung,


Out of my arms Thou shalt not fly;


Wrestling I will not let Thee go


Till I Thy name, Thy nature know.

What though my shrinking flesh complain,


And murmur to contend so long?


I rise superior to my pain,


When I am weak, then I am strong


And when my all of strength shall fail,


I shall with the God-man prevail.

My strength is gone, my nature dies,


I sink beneath Thy weighty hand,


Faint to revive, and fall to rise;


I fall, and yet by faith I stand;


I stand and will not let Thee go


Till I Thy Name, Thy nature know.

Yield to me now, for I am weak,


But confident in self-despair;


Speak to my heart, in blessings speak,


Be conquered by my instant prayer;


Speak, or Thou never hence shalt move,


And tell me if Thy Name is Love.

’Tis Love! ‘tis Love! Thou diedst for me!


I hear Thy whisper in my heart;


The morning breaks, the shadows flee,


Pure, universal love Thou art;


To me, to all, Thy bowels move;


Thy nature and Thy Name is Love.

My prayer hath power with God; the grace


Unspeakable I now receive;


Through faith I see Thee face to face,


I see Thee face to face, and live!


In vain I have not wept and strove;


Thy nature and Thy Name is Love.

I know Thee, Savior, who Thou art.


Jesus, the feeble sinner’s friend;


Nor wilt Thou with the night depart.


But stay and love me to the end,


Thy mercies never shall remove;


Thy nature and Thy Name is Love.

The Sun of righteousness on me


Hath rose with healing in His wings,


Withered my nature’s strength; from Thee


My soul its life and succor brings;


My help is all laid up above;


Thy nature and Thy Name is Love.

Contented now upon my thigh


I halt, till life’s short journey end;


All helplessness, all weakness I


On Thee alone for strength depend;


Nor have I power from Thee to move:


Thy nature, and Thy name is Love.

Lame as I am, I take the prey,


Hell, earth, and sin, with ease o’ercome;


I leap for joy, pursue my way,


And as a bounding hart fly home,


Through all eternity to prove


Thy nature and Thy Name is Love.