It's an ancient story.  After he fled from his brother Esau, the one from whom he had stolen his father's birthright blessing, Jacob, as the Genesis account tells us, spent the night at the Jabbok River.  There he wrestled with a man until daybreak.  As morning dawned, the man, who was in fact an angel, perhaps even God himself, left Jacob.  Before he did, however, he gave him a new name:  Israel.  That is, "the one who struggles with God."

Eugene Delacroix, "Jacob wrestling with the Angel"

     It's an apt portrait of the human experience.  Though not all of us may struggle with God directly, we all struggle with understanding ourselves and our lives.  We all wrestle with life's meaning and the puzzles of existence.  We all feel as if we do not always know why the world goes the way it does, why things happen as they do.  After all, we are only human.
     
     But that's the angel's point:  to be human is to struggle.  It is to struggle with capacity, it is to struggle with choice.  It is to struggle with the emptiness of contingency and the darkness of finitude.  And to realize that, over and above it all, contingency's emptiness and finitude's frustrations only exist because infinitude surrounds and defines them.
     
     Otherwise, there would be no point to anything.