Rival Sister Wives

Jacob had a wife he loved, Rachel, and a wife he … well, he had Leah, too. As ironic justice would have it, it was the unloved Leah, not Rachel, who gave him children.

So begins the story of how Jacob ended up with 12 sons.

That “ironic justice,” by the way, was no accident: 

Meanwhile, Leah (who was the matriarch in Jesus’ genealogy) has four sons as detailed in Genesis 29:32-35.

“Give me children, or I’ll die!”

This dramatic ultimatum came from jealous Rachel, understandably angering her husband. Her inability to have children, after all, obviously had nothing to do with him!

Interestingly, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob all three had a wife who 1.) was beautiful and 2.) struggled with infertility. (See Genesis 16: “Don’t Blame Me for Your Bad Decisions” and Genesis 25: “A Costly Bowl of Stew.”)

Jacob’s wife employs the strategy his grandmother had initially used, and Jacob’s next son is born to Rachel’s servant, Bilhah.

Leah, having stopped having children after Judah was born, follows suit with her servant:

Love Potions and Bargains

Into this saga comes an incident wherein Leah’s son, Reuben, gathered and gave mandrakes to his mother - and Rachel asked her for some of them. Leah’s response:

“Wasn’t it enough that you got my husband away from me? And now you want my son’s mandrakes?”

Yes, Rachel DID want Reuben’s mandrakes! And she traded a night with Jacob to get them.

Rachel: the beautiful one, the beloved one. Did she take her husband’s desire for granted? Was she so accustomed to having her way that a night with Jacob seemed an easy bargaining chip?

And what is a mandrake, anyway?!

A mandrake is an herb from the nightshade family which has at times been considered an aphrodisiac, thought to possess various healing properties and even promote fertility. If these ideas were prevalent in Rachel’s time, maybe her determination was born more of desperation than any sense of entitlement.

She may have had everything going for her except the one thing she wanted most - a child of her own.

Whatever reasons prompted the deal, Jacob returned from the fields that evening to a “surprise.” Leah went out to meet him…

He’s Been Hired

with Mandrakes

So Leah gets her night with Jacob, becomes pregnant again and, for some reason, sees it as a reward for having given her maid to Jacob.

 (Later on, she also gives birth to a daughter, Dinah. )

At long last, it’s Rachel’s turn!

“May the Lord give me another son.”

Years of longing at last fulfilled - was anyone else expecting words of thankfulness and praise instead of, “More please?”

Not to suggest Rachel needed a lesson in gratitude - the truth is we have no idea what else she might have done or said - but I can certainly use a reminder now and then! When prayers are answered and dreams come true, I hope I’m as eager to praise the GIVER as I am to celebrate the gift.

And I’m challenged to be at least as busy appreciating my blessings as I am asking for more.

The future does hold one more son for Rachel. Sadly, she dies while giving birth to Benjamin, the youngest of Jacob’s sons, but that’s a story for another day.

Two wives, two servants, twelve sons.

If the reality show, Sister Wives, seems outlandish, it has nothing on the drama created by the literal siblings that Jacob married!

“Give me children or I’ll die?” Seriously?! What was that?

Theatrics? Manipulation? The histrionic episode of a spoiled favorite who’s accustomed to getting her way and willing to make everyone miserable if she doesn’t?

I’m not a fan of “hysterics” under any circumstances, but there is a difference between uncharacteristic “drama” on the part of distressed people who, momentarily, are “not themselves” and drama caused by someone who’s being exactly who they are. Before being too quick to assume the worst about Rachel, let’s consider:

Maybe the years of struggling with infertility while watching her sister bear one son after another finally culminated in an outburst that, while irrational and infuriating, wasn’t typical. She wouldn’t be the only person who caused a scene when the “green-eyed monster” got the best of her.

Jealousy doesn’t bring out the best in anybody.

Something else that doesn’t bring out the best in anybody is prolonged grief.

Anyone who has known the grief of infertility knows all about “deferred hope.”

In one way or another, I think we all know something about it. Have we not all, at some point, had our hopes challenged by the vicissitudes of life?

When injustices or other unfriendly circumstances interrupt our dreams (or threaten to take them down altogether) - anger, as a response, is always easier than sorrow, at least in my experience.

By prompting us to remember times that grief has left us “not at our best,” Rachel’s story reminds us to show grace when others experience a less than stellar version of themselves.

Two sisters: beautiful Rachel, who has the attention of her husband but not the ability to bear him a son, and weak-eyed Leah, who, after giving Jacob four sons, remains unloved, undesired, unchosen. How heartbreaking it must be to always be in competition - and always come up short, for whatever reason.

If we learn anything from Rachel and Leah, we ought to know better than to compete for things like love, acceptance, attention, respect, dignity, and personal worth.

We ought to - but do we?

How common is it that we compare ourselves … and come up short? Not consciously, of course, but it’s hard to avoid. Through all forms of social media, we see the best of everyone else - the most beautiful images, the highest moments, the greatest successes - and our own lives seem so lackluster in comparison.

The saddest thing about defining ourselves by our worst moments and others by their best isn’t becoming convinced that our LIVES aren’t enough; it’s getting the idea, somehow, that WE aren’t.

I can’t help wondering what sense of “desperation” would prompt a woman to buy a night with her own husband. But then it seems there was a certain sense of desperation on the part of both of Jacob’s wives.

It shouldn’t be that way. Regardless of whatever external standards we meet or fail to meet, we are never “less than.” God made us so much better than that.

These sisters remind us … to be grateful, to be honest, to be compassionate. Their story highlights one of the most beautiful truths ever:

As individuals created in God’s image, there isn’t anything desperate about us - not about me, not about you.

You are Beautiful; you are Beloved; you are Chosen.

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

Blessings until next time, Kim