Call Me Israel

A Creed for Wrestling in a World That Will Not Let Us Rest

Names matter. 

My name is not just a label; it is my story, my calling, my legacy. Israel is not merely a nation on a map or a star stitched to a flag. It is my declaration of identity, my purpose, and my willingness to live inside the tension between heaven and earth.

It begins with a story…

Once, a man named Jacob wrestled through the night with the Archangel Michael at the river’s edge — a struggle with heaven itself. When dawn came, he was renamed:

“Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have struggled with God and with adversaries, and have prevailed.”

I carry that name now. And so I say: Call me Israel.

I Am the Struggle

Israel means “one who struggles with God.” But the name does not glorify victory; it sanctifies the struggle itself. It tells me that life’s meaning lies in wrestling with the divine, with the world, with my own shadow.

I do not call myself “the one who prevails.” That would be too easy, too final. My name reminds me that the struggle is never finished. The victory may come, but the holiness is here — in the grappling, in the refusal to surrender to despair or complacency.

Call me Israel, because I embrace the struggle.

Wrestling with the Divine

I will not grow complacent. I will question, argue, and reach upward, refusing to accept that truth and justice are beyond me.

When persecution rises and hatred stirs, I do not hide. I turn back to my covenant — love, justice, responsibility.

I wrestle with God — and in that wrestling, I keep my faith alive.

Wrestling with Others

I live in a world of distortion and falsehood. Lies about my people spread like wildfire, old tropes dressed in modern garb. But I will not yield the narrative. I will not allow hate to pass unchallenged.

I will contend with those who slander. I will speak back to those who dehumanize. I will struggle openly, for silence is assent.

Call me Israel, because I wrestle with the world.

Wrestling with the World

I am not naïve. To be Israel is to walk with a limp. History has marked my people with scars. Yet the limp is not shame; it is testimony. It proves that we endured, and that we endure still.

Antisemitism seeks to diminish me, to erase me, to silence me. But my name reminds me: the struggle itself is my inheritance, and resilience is my strength.

The Struggle Is Sacred

I do not wait passively for a final triumph. The victory is not yet, and that is all right. My work is to live now, to act now, to wrestle now.

To struggle for goodness is itself holy.

My Creed

I will cultivate moral resolve. I will anchor myself in truth and courage. I will not shy away from conflict. My silence will not be mistaken for consent. I will persist in my identity. I will not be pushed into the shadows. I will build bridges, even as I resist lies. I will meet hate with strength and insight. I will empower the next generation to embrace the struggle, not fear it. I will remember that I do not stand alone. Israel is not one; Israel is many.

Call Me Israel

Ask me who I am, and I will answer: I am the struggle. I am the refusal of complacency. I am the covenant that demands I rise again, generation after generation.

When lies surround me and hatred swells, I cling all the harder. I wrestle until dawn. I limp away scarred, but alive, renamed, blessed.

Call me Israel — not weary, not vanquished, but one who will never surrender the struggle, and never surrender the imagination of a better world.