Out of Control
If you're determined to stay in control, you're out of control
Charlie Croker was a man in full. He had a back like a Jersey bull.” So went the song about the hero of Tom Wolfe’s best-selling novel, “A Man in Full” (New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 1998). One of the last players on any major college football team to play both offense and defense, earning the name, “Sixty Minute Man,” Charlie was proud of his entire being: his massive yet toned physique, his savvy for real estate development, his curly blonde hair, his own corporation, his 29,000-acre plantation, and his Gulfstream Five private jet. He is a man’s man who has “the power to charm men and the manic drive to bend their wills into saying yes to projects they didn’t want, didn’t need, and never thought about before.”
Early in the book, however, Charlie runs into trouble by living hundreds of millions of dollars outside of his means. And he enters the struggle of his life. It’s not so much the lack of money as it is the lack of power and control. He’s no longer pulling the strings.
Someone once told me, “If you’re determined to stay in control, you’re out of control.” Those determined to control it all are stepping toe-to-toe with God, who will not let his universal control be wrestled away by imperfect mortals, irrational nature, or vague spiritual powers. Those who try to steal God’s territory are not in control of their logic or their faith.
A man in the Bible named Jacob discovered this in a curious confrontation with the Almighty. Jacob, a name meaning “deceiver,” relied on his sly smarts and suave persuasiveness to influence and control relationships, decisions, and people for his personal benefit. His brother, Esau, resented this and became angry with him. Jacob was no longer in control so he ran away and tried to find control elsewhere until he could return and manipulate Esau at another time. On his return trip, he thought he had the situation in hand when he stopped at the Jabbok River and deceptively divided his traveling party, preparing them to pave his way to Esau by presenting him with rich gifts.
But that night a mysterious man appeared and wrestled with Jacob until morning. Sweat dripped. Dirt flew. Perhaps blood spilled. Neither would give in. The man presented himself as God, blessed Jacob, changed his name, and in the process also injured Jacob’s hip. In short, he let Jacob know that although Jacob was strong, God was in control. And it was better that way, because Jacob had a limp to remind him that he wasn’t almighty like God, and couldn’t control everything to work out as God could.
This “man in full” found himself emptied of himself and filled with trust in someone stronger. Someone better. God, the one who uses his might mercifully for those in need.
One writer has captured the meaning of this event by bringing us into the experience. He puts it this way. “When Jacob reached the river and sent everything he had across ahead of him, we were there, too -- alone, stripped, agile, ready for anything, and desperately afraid. When a man appeared and fought with him all night, we felt the sweaty grasp of a God mortally engaged, both enemy and friend. And when he hit Jacob with a cheap shot, we, too, went slack, wounded as much by all our old treacheries as by our going to the mat with God. When Jacob gained the upper hand and the blessing, we prevailed with him, but it was not a victory; we still knew nothing of God’s name. We were lucky just to have survived. And when the sun came up on Jacob, and he realized that the face most to be feared was not his brother’s but God’s, we, too, marveled that the worst that could ever happen was over; relieved, we crossed the river to Esau, dragging our leg like a prize.”
”And now we know -- because we were there and it happened to us -- that God does not despise us for our supplanting and deceit, but forever ambushes our lives with new chances; that God does not renege on promises made even under duress; that God may slip away at daybreak, but never abandons us; that God can render us vulnerable to all our fast-approaching Esaus, the siblings we robbed of birthrights with whom we must make peace; that the gracious reunion of sinners and sinned-against is the blessing of God” (J. Mary Luti, “You Are Israel,” Christian Century, October 7, 1998, 897).
So don’t be full of yourself. Only fools are full of themselves, and they’re the weaker for it. The strong are weak in themselves but strong in God. The ones in control are determined to give up control to the mighty and merciful God. Be full of God.
PRAYER: God, protect me from myself today. Empty all with which I have filled myself and take its place, filling me with your very self and your blessings of faith, forgiveness, peace, hope, and love. Let me boast not in my weak strength but in your perfect strength, not in my incomplete goodness but in your perfect goodness, and not in my puny control but in your perfect control … all executed graciously by you to fill my need. Amen.