Complicated sisterhood: A generous reading of Leah and Rachel’s story

Leah and Rachel: Sisters

We first encounter Leah and Rachel together as sisters (Gen 29:16–17); in fact, the first time we encounter Leah she enters the story abruptly through a comparison with her sister. Readers already know Rachel, for she met Jacob at the well and informed Laban, her father, of Jacob’s presence (Gen 29:4–12). Leah’s abrupt entry not only serves to create a comparison with Rachel but also to establish her as a character before the next action, an event involving her. The presence of Laban’s two daughters mirrors the situation of Isaac and Rebekah’s two sons and highlights the problem for this generation of ancestors, namely that they have options. Unlike the experience of Abraham and Sarah, this generation, it seems, has multiple options for who will carry forward the promises of God (Esau or Jacob, the sons of Leah or Rachel). Both daughters come from acceptable lineage (they are not Canaanite or Hittite; see Gen 27:46–28:2) and would be potential candidates for extending the promises of God to the next generation.

The narrator’s comparison of the sisters uses ambiguous language, but seems to involve two traits—their birth order and their appearance. Although the language may be ambiguous, our interpretation tends not to be. Throughout the stories of the matriarchs (Sarah, Rebekah, Leah, and Rachel), the narrator tends to understand these women in a neutral way or with sympathy. In contrast, interpreters throughout time have more often viewed these women negatively. ³ Neither the ambiguity nor the context necessitates a negative interpretation of the traits, particularly the traits of Leah.

The narrator describes Leah as the “greater” (gedolah) and Rachel as the “smaller” (qatanah). The words could be a reference to their size (i.e., larger/taller and smaller/shorter) or their place in the family (i.e., older and younger). The terms could also allude to Laban’s preference or concern for Leah as a firstborn daughter and the relative insignificance of Rachel. ⁴ Given Laban’s statement regarding why he gives Leah to Jacob rather than Rachel in Gen 29:26, “This is not done in our country—giving the younger before the firstborn” (NRSV), the description of verse 16 most likely refers to their age and place in the family. We, of course, do not know their ages, but in all likelihood they are young teens.

The narrator further distinguishes the two in reference to their appearance. Leah has “soft” (rakkot) eyes (Gen 29:17) and Rachel has a beautiful shape and appearance (yefat to’ar viyfat mareh). We do not really know what having “soft” eyes means. Are Leah’s eyes weak, meaning she has vision problems? Are they delicate or gentle and lovely to look at? A quick comparison of English Bible translations shows a variety of positive and negative translations; many, however, emphasize the comparison with Rachel by using the conjunction “but” as if to say, Leah may have okay eyes, but Rachel, you should see her. Such a translation creates an unnecessary opposition. Interpreters have used this opposition to explain Laban’s trickery and devalue Leah.

A generous reading of these verses values both Leah and Rachel as sisters of differing ages who have desirable, yet different, traits. As both come from acceptable lineage, either would make a good wife for Jacob. Jacob, however, loves Rachel and agrees to work seven years for her. At this point, Jacob does not speak or act negatively toward Leah; he simple expresses his love and preference for Rachel.

Leah and Rachel: Wives

Shortly after we meet Leah and Rachel as sisters, we encounter them as wives. Although seven years pass in the chronology of the story, we only need to read a few more verses to reach the life transition that both experience within a week’s time. These young women, who are very likely still in their teens, become wives to the same husband.

In the ancient world, a father made final decisions about his daughter’s marriage. He chose or at least approved her husband, set her bride price, and determined other aspects of the arrangement. In our story, the bride price seems to be seven years of labor for the younger daughter Rachel. After seven years pass, however, Jacob demands his wife, but fails to specify her name. A series of events follows his request, events that influence the lives of both young women. Instead of Rachel, Laban brings Leah to Jacob. As the eldest daughter, tradition demanded that she be married first. Many interpretations make much of this swap and often further devalue Leah through their explanations of why Laban would trick Jacob. Was she so ugly that Laban could not find a husband for her in the meantime? Why does it have to be about Leah? Could it not also be that Laban came to value Jacob so much that he wanted his first-born daughter to marry him? Or perhaps he wanted both daughters to marry him? We have no way of knowing the answers to our questions.

We may find clarity about a few things. First, at this point in the story the women in the story have no say in the decisions made about their future. Laban and then Jacob may make decisions, but Leah and Rachel do not. We will not find their preferences mentioned in these verses (Gen 29:21–30) because in their patriarchal culture their preferences did not matter as much (or perhaps at all) as those of their father. Second, both women seem to be acceptable in terms of providing a legitimate lineage for the covenant. Third, Leah and Rachel assumed they would one day be married, but not necessarily in a polygynous marriage or to the same man. Most women got married, and although the stories of the ancestors in Genesis and other stories in the Old Testament demonstrate the reality of polygyny, only the wealthy could afford such a lifestyle. The women likely did not assume it would be their lifestyle. The fact that they end up married to the same man would not have been normal, even in that day. The actions of Laban result in a lifetime of frustration for both of his daughters, though for different reasons. Even if Laban acted out of love for Leah or interest in the well-being of both of his daughters, he created a situation that led to Leah being unloved (Gen 29:30–32) and Rachel creating a sense of competition for offspring (Gen 30:8).

Unlike other stories of the ancestors and despite the system of patriarchy, Jacob moves into the family system of his wives. More often wives would leave the family of upbringing to move into the family system of their husbands. In the case of Jacob, Leah, and Rachel, family discord and geography seem to affect Jacob’s decision to stay with Laban rather than take his wives and return to Canaan. Jacob goes to Paddan-Aram, partly because he needs to flee the anger of Esau, whose birthright and blessing Jacob had gained. Laban’s sustained hospitality allows Jacob the opportunity to stay rather than return to a potentially dangerous situation. Remaining in Laban’s house also allows Laban to continue to exert control over Jacob and his family.

Admittedly, a generous reading seems challenging here as the two men in the story make unfortunate decisions that negatively affect the two women. As much as I feel compelled to rant against both Laban and Jacob, I also feel compelled toward generosity without condoning their behavior. Laban had parental responsibility for two daughters. He seems to take that responsibility seriously, both here and later, when he confronts Jacob for leaving unexpectedly for his homeland (Gen 31:48–50). For whatever reason, Laban sees Jacob as the best option for his daughters. We have no idea what other options he had available, but we may understand the weight of responsibility to care for our children in the best possible way we know. As for Jacob, he has been hurt. What he thought would surely happen did not, and as a result his life changed, too. Shock, disappointment, and anger often prompt us to respond in unhealthy ways. Leah and Rachel, likewise, must adapt to the events thrust upon them. Unfortunately, the situation becomes more difficult as the two move toward motherhood.

Leah and Rachel: Mothers

In the ancient Near East, women expected to be wives, but women needed to be mothers. Motherhood had several social and economic functions. Socially, children, particularly sons, secured a woman’s value in the community by ensuring family continuity into the next generation. Children also provided women security. In the event of a husband’s death, a son could inherit land and provide for his mother. Economically, children provided labor needed to sustain the community. Pregnancy, childbirth, and lactation all put women at higher risk of death. It seems, though, that the benefits of potential social and economic security outweighed the risks. ⁵

In Genesis, motherhood serves a particular function for the matriarchs as they bear the heirs of the Lord’s promise for the next generation. Without the mothers of Genesis, there would be no Israel. In the stories of Sarah, Rebekah, Leah, and Rachel, the Lord carries out specific actions to facilitate motherhood. ⁶ For instance, the Lord saw that Leah was unloved and opened her womb (Gen 29:31), and God remembered Rachel, heeded her, and opened her womb (Gen 30:22). In Genesis, barrenness and birth go together and demonstrate the Lord’s role in carrying on the promises. The end of barrenness also seems to signify a change in the relationship between the Lord and the once-barren woman. ⁷

In addition to bearing children, Leah and Rachel also name their children. In most patriarchal societies, fathers bear the responsibility of naming their children. In the Old Testament, however, women outnumber men in this task. ⁸ For Leah and Rachel, each male child receives a name and an explanation for the name. Leah’s naming reflects the influence of the Lord in her struggles and explains the way Leah understands herself within her relationship with Jacob and her community. ⁹ Similarly, Rachel mentions God/the Lord and her relationship with Leah. In her last act before dying, Rachel names her second son Ben-Oni, but in an unusual move Jacob disregards Rachel and names the child Benjamin (Gen 35:18).

Genesis 29:31–30:24 recounts most of Leah and Rachel’s childbearing days. In these verses, the women become the main characters, whereas Jacob recedes and Laban drops out of the story. Leah enters the realm of motherhood first when the Lord notices her bleak situation. In quick succession she has four sons, Reuben, Simeon, Levi, and Judah. Although the Lord saw she was unloved and heard she was hated, having children changed little with Jacob, even though having several sons would have brought her honor within their society. After four sons she ceases bearing, but we do not know why.

During the time when Leah has four children, Rachel has none. As a result of her barrenness, she envies her sister and dramatically confronts Jacob. In her envy, she blames Jacob, who responds in anger and essentially blames God. Rachel then quickly offers her maidservant Bilhah as a surrogate who will bear children in Rachel’s name. Bilhah, of course, is not the first such surrogate. Sarai similarly offered Hagar to Abram (Gen 16:1–4). Although never addressed in the Old Testament, the Code of Hammurabi, the Nuzi tablets, and Egyptian law codes do allow female slaves to become surrogates for barren women. ¹⁰ In this case, Bilhah becomes a wife, a slight elevation in status. Consequently, Rachel’s first two sons biologically belong to Bilhah. Rachel sees the bearing of children as a contest, but Leah never uses that language. Leah, however, does give Jacob a maidservant, Zilpah, as surrogate mother and wife. Like Rachel, Leah’s offer of a surrogate occurs in response to a time of barrenness. Zilpah bears two sons, which greatly pleases Leah. Leah and Rachel seem to relate much better to their surrogate mothers than Sarai did. Interestingly, some rabbinic sources refer to Bilhah and Zilpah as matriarchs. ¹¹

Although Rachel has children through her surrogate, she still wants children of her own. When she hears that Reuben, Leah’s oldest, has found some mandrakes, she seeks to obtain some (Gen 30:14–15). Those in the ancient Near East likely understood the narcotic and hallucinogenic properties of mandrakes. Many considered them an aphrodisiac and a fertility enhancer; perhaps Rachel desires their use for these reasons.

Despite Rachel’s polite request for some (not all), Leah responds with accusations of husband stealing. This reaction seems out of character for Leah, but summarizes her perception of their complicated marriages. Instead of fighting back, which we might expect from her, Rachel in a sense concedes the point and makes Leah an offer—she will trade sex with Jacob for Reuben’s mandrakes. At this moment in the story, both women are barren and each has what the other wants. A conversation that begins with the women at odds with each other ends with them cooperating.

As a result of Leah’s purchased night with her husband, she again conceives and has a son, Issachar. Leah will go on to have another son, Zebulun, and a daughter, Dinah. Then God remembers Rachel, and she finally has a son of her own. She names him Joseph and promptly requests more sons. She will conceive again some time later, but she dies giving birth. Little did she know that her desire for children would lead to her death (Gen 35:16–20). Although the writers of the Old Testament will prefer Rachel much like Jacob did, the descendants of Leah’s children will become prominent among the tribes, especially Levi, the tribe of priests, and Judah, the tribe of the Davidic monarchy.

Although it may be easy to read Leah’s experience of being unloved or Rachel’s long experience of barrenness with generosity, the challenge here becomes reading their relationship with each other, their maidservants, and Jacob. They do not support each other as sisters much of the time; they abuse what little power they have by offering the bodies of their maidservants as surrogates, and they use Jacob to get what they want, namely more children. Those actions cannot be excused or condoned. Instead, a generous reading urges us to understand better their experiences of marginalization and devaluation. In light of the communal mindset of the ancient world, it seems unlikely that these women set out to fulfill purely self-centered intentions. More likely, they found themselves seeking to contribute to their immediate community with the only commodity they had to offer—their children. When their attempts went unnoticed, as in Leah’s case, or failed, as in Rachel’s case, what did else did they have? Leah’s first-wife status should have afforded her certain honor and security, especially after providing a first son. Jacob’s refusal to honor her would have caused her to question what else he would withhold—perhaps the blessing and birthright due her children. The social and economic implication for Rachel’s barrenness surely caused her fear. Would Jacob continue to support a wife who does not produce children? What if Jacob died; who would support her then? Could she really count on her father? In their perceived lacking, the sisters respond by taking from others, but it rarely satisfies them fully, though the tension between the two does seem to decline after the birth of Joseph. They may not have everything they want, but they each have something.

Leah and Rachel: Allies

Leah and Rachel do finally agree on one thing: it is time to leave. Jacob, who worked seven years for his first wife and seven more for his second, has now worked several more years for Laban. The relationship between Jacob and Laban continues to decline, and Jacob, under the Lord’s instructions, wants to leave. Interestingly, Jacob first seeks the approval of Leah and Rachel (Gen 31:4–16). Why seek their approval, especially after he has been instructed by the Lord? Perhaps he understands what he asks of them when he asks them to leave. They will be leaving their larger network of family and society to go to an unfamiliar and uncertain location. Jacob explains the situation and awaits their reply. In one voice the sisters answer. In their response, they recognize they have no future with their father, who treats them like foreigners. He sold them and squandered the money. Jacob should freely do what God instructed. Their cooperation in this moment reflects the effects of years of difficulty, which they now attribute to the actions of their father.

A generous reading of this scene recognizes how Jacob, Leah, and Rachel agree and empower each other to seek a different way of life. They do not need to remain in a system that actively and repeatedly seeks to abuse them. They recognize the unhealthy relationship they have with Laban and overcome their own relational struggles in order to change.

Over the years, Laban’s relationship with Jacob had largely been a business relationship. Whether the business of working for wives, shepherding the flocks, or overseeing the breeding of the flocks, Jacob worked diligently with his father-in-law. Laban, however, had his own sons and their future to think about, and began making decisions to benefit his sons. Jacob’s success threatened the success of Laban’s sons. This reality certainly put Laban in a bind. He could admit that parting ways with Jacob would be better, despite losing several strong workers (Jacob and his sons), or Laban could find ways to manipulate Jacob for the benefit of Laban’s own sons. He chose manipulation and ended up losing more than strong workers; he lost his daughters as well.

Cultivating generosity

Reading generously may not come naturally to us. As I shared some of my research with my teenage daughter and husband, I mentioned a few of the more ungenerous statements about Rachel and the need for mandrakes. We laughed a bit and I quickly made a more generous statement and a comment about our need to be generous. In a somewhat sarcastic tone, my daughter opined, “Well, that’s not much fun!” In her sarcasm, she stumbled upon an unfortunate reality: we would often rather share snarky comments than generous ones. Generosity takes work, in part because generosity requires us to exercise empathy toward others. We must seek to understand their situations rather than simply pass judgment. Generosity also requires a change of attitudes and actions so that we do not repeat mistakes of the past.

Who in our communities needs our generosity? In our tendency to label ourselves and others, where have we created divisiveness, comparison, and restriction? Where have we aligned ourselves with systems that oppress and devalue others? How have we abused our power and privilege to get what we want? In what ways might we empower our communities to collaborate in order to challenge injustice? These questions will probably make us uncomfortable, and their answers will likely require complex responses. They require us to understand our own context and the larger context in which we live. Generosity demands something from us—something deep and substantial.

Conclusion

We have many options for interpreting the story of Leah and Rachel. Reading the story with generosity allows us to understand the characters within their context and, hopefully, refrain from devaluing them. We see that these women, connected by birth and marriage, deal with a number of challenges. In the end, they find a way to empower each other and work together. The generous reading of the story informs us, but it also may motivate us toward generosity in our living. Cultivating generosity, whether in our reading of Scripture or our living, takes intentional work. The good news is that many already do such work; let us find them and join in.