Bible Friends: Leah

a sermon on Genesis 29.15-35
by David C. Mauldin
Westminster Presbyterian Church, Mobile, Alabama


In today’s scripture reading we witness the first round in a heavyweight bout between two of the dirtiest, sneakiest, most shameless, most selfish, low-down scoundrels in the Bible. And for those of you who haven’t read it, the Bible is full of low-down scoundrels.

In one corner is a young upstart from Canaan, Jacob. Jacob is the grandson of Abraham and son of Isaac. When God promised blessings and descendants to Abraham, no one expected the heir to the promise would be like this.

Jacob was a twin. According to Genesis, he was born after his brother Esau, but he came out clutching Esau’s heel. His name, Jacob, means “heel grabber” or “he who supplants.” According to the custom of the times, Esau would become the family patriarch when their father died. Esau would inherit the property. Esau would rule over his brother. Jacob was not about to let that happen.

Perhaps you remember the story from Sunday school. Esau was a hunter and a man of the fields. Jacob was more of an indoor kind of guy. One day Esau came home famished. Jacob was cooking a stew. “Let me have some of that,” Esau asked. “Sure,” replied Jacob, cracking a greasy smile, “no problem. Just one condition. First you must give me your birthright.” What Esau was thinking is impossible to know. Did he not take the matter seriously? Was he so tired and hungry that he didn’t know what he was doing? Was it just easier to play along and get what he wanted instead of arguing with Jacob all day while he starved? Maybe he didn’t care about his birthright; after all, we do not get much detail about life in this family, and what we are told doesn’t make us envious. Whatever his motive, he agreed. Jacob made him swear.

That was Jacob’s first recorded victory. He extorted Esau’s birthright away from him. To secure his second win, he sunk even lower … much lower. Again, it was the custom in those days for a dying father to bless each of his children. Think of it as a last will and testament, delivered in person on the edge of death. Isaac, their father, favored Esau. Rebekah, their mother, favored Jacob. You know this must have been a harmonious family.

When it came time for the blessing, Rebekah devised a scam. Jacob would impersonate his brother and secure the greater blessing. This took some work because Esau was hairy while Jacob was smooth. Fortunately for the conspirators, Isaac’s senses were failing. He could hardly see anything. A little well-placed goats hair and it just might work if they could get the smell right. Rebekah cooked up Isaac’s favorite dish. Jacob brought it in and presented himself as Esau. Isaac was suspicious. The voice wasn’t quite right. The touch and the smell, however, suggested the young man before him was his beloved Esau. He was persuaded, and he began to bless.

Now as I said, Isaac favored Esau, so when he thought he was blessing Esau, he unloaded everything he had. Why leave anything but crumbs for that good-for-nothing Jacob? So Jacob, posing as Esau, got his father’s entire blessing. By the time Isaac and Esau figured out what had happened, it was too late. All Isaac could offer him was the chance to live by the sword and perhaps break free from Jacob’s rule.

Naturally Esau was furious. He decided Jacob had to go. Isaac died, and Esau resolved to kill Jacob as soon as the period of mourning was over. Rebekah sensed danger. She wanted to protect Jacob, so she sent him away to her brother Laban in the old country. Today’s reading picks up shortly after his arrival.

Jacob wasted no time making a name for himself in his new location. A single well served to water the village’s flocks. There was a rule: “We don’t uncover the well until everyone is here. That keeps things fair. Everyone has the same access.” Only Jacob didn’t care about fair. Rachel showed up early with her father’s flocks, content to wait for the others. Rachel was Laban’s younger daughter, and Jacob was smitten from the moment he laid eyes on her. He rolled back the stone himself and watered Laban’s flocks. Nothing like an edgy hero to capture a girl’s fancy—half bad boy, half knight in shining armor. It was the talk of dinner at Laban’s house, to which Jacob was, of course, invited.

Jacob came to Laban’s house sporting a record of 2-0 and a reputation for bold action. He had destroyed his family of origin through his selfish behavior, and now he was on the run. He quickly decided things were not so bad—not with Rachel around.

What Jacob did not see, his eyes being busy with Rachel, was that uncle Laban was as selfish, conniving, and tricky as he. Laban was a match for Jacob, a worthy adversary, and all the more dangerous because he had the element of surprise. Had Jacob realized his position, he might have been more careful. He might have tried some of his own moves out on Laban. But Jacob trusted Laban, and learned the hard way.

Laban perceived that Jacob loved Rachel, yet it was Jacob himself who proposed to work seven years in exchange for her hand in marriage. After all, he did not have a dowry to offer. He needed something truly valuable to give as a token of his love for her. What was she worth, and what did he have? Seven years didn’t seem or feel like a long time to a young man trapped in the agony of true love.

Laban must have been pleased. He didn’t have any sons or Rachel would not have been tending the flock. Now Jacob would be just as good. Laban could get him to run things, do the work. And he wouldn’t even have to pay him! No doubt the arrangement proved satisfactory, because he decided he needed to extend it—by trickery if necessary.

I read what happened. Weddings back then involved a week-long party. Laban got Jacob roaring drunk, then he pulled the old bait-and-switch. Rachel was the bait; Leah was the switch.

The next morning saw an angry confrontation. Jacob was angry, anyway. Laban played it cool. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong? Of course we do it this way. The older has to be married before the younger. It is custom. Nothing I can do old boy, tell you what, though …” And he pitched his offer. Seven more years of work and Jacob could go ahead and marry Rachel—lovely Rachel—just as soon as Leah’s wedding festivities were over.

This would not be the last round between Jacob and Laban. They now knew each other very well. Each respected the other’s cunning and willingness to play dirty. And so they lived together, two colossal scoundrels, locked in mortal combat. The collateral damage was horrifying.

Among the collateral damage was Leah’s life. I am sure Rachel was not too happy about it, either. Two sisters married to the same man was a recipe for rivalry and disaster. The Law of Moses would later forbid it. Rachel did not want to share her husband, but at least Jacob loved her. Leah got the worst of everything. Laban got free labor. Jacob got the wife he wanted. Rachel got a loving husband. Leah had a father who apparently cared nothing for her happiness and well-being, a sister who resented her, and a husband who didn’t love her. She had no say in the matter, no control over her life. Laban took on Jacob, and Leah was the loser. …

A funny thing about this passage: God stays out of it for quite some time. Laban and Jacob are going at one another, and we readers begin to wonder: Where is God? Whose side will God take? Jacob is heir to Abraham’s promise. Maybe God will favor him? Then again, maybe God wants to teach him a lesson, so maybe God will back Laban. Then in verse 31 we get our answer. Whose side does God take? Leah’s!

Leah?! Leah doesn’t even have a side. If Jacob or Laban saw this in print they would scream in protest. But there it is. God saw Leah. God took pity on her. And God blessed her. She may have been a loser, a mere pawn in the game of people who mattered; but God didn’t see things that way. God determined that she would be the mother of a great nation. Jacob’s sons would become the twelve tribes of Israel. Leah would have an honored place as mother to six of them, plus a daughter.

God notices Leah! God takes Leah’s side! What does this tell you about God? Any God who would side with Leah might do all sorts of things: He might choose a small, weak nation to be his people and show forth his glory. He might turn a coward like Gideon into a hero. He might pick the youngest and smallest of Jesse’s sons to be king over his people. He might put his word into the mouth of a shepherd and dresser of sycamore trees from Tekoa. He might ignore the great Caesar Augustus, emperor of Rome, and the ambitious King Herod, and send his own Son to be born in a stable and laid in a manger. He might even go to the cross to die for the sins of the world. In fact, he just might appoint a rag-tag bunch of ex-fishermen and tax collectors (who failed him in his hour of need) to take his gospel to the world. And if he would do all that, then friends, none of us is safe, because who knows what plans he might have for us?

My point is: When God stepped into the mess Jacob and Laban had made, and took Leah’s side, he was acting exactly according to character. God loves a loser. Everybody loves an underdog—when they win! God loves the loser. God loves the person nobody else bothers to think about. God loves the one who is helpless and alone.

Jesus is proof. To whom did he reach out? We read about him spending time with two kinds of people. One group was the sinners, tax collectors, prostitutes, lepers, and other people afforded no respect by society. The other was the Pharisees and scribes—religious folk who meant well but got things all turned upside down. They sincerely wanted to serve God; they just had the wrong ideas about how it should be done. One group of people you rarely find Jesus with: those who mattered. He never went to Herod to try to convert him. He didn’t send messages to Pontius Pilate. Even when he stood before them on trial, he hardly said anything. This does not mean God does not care about celebrities and power brokers, but they should take care. Throughout the Bible, God does not share their agendas, and he does not seem to be on their side.

Paul reminded the Corinthians that they had been the beneficiaries of God’s love for the Leahs of the world. He wrote: “Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God. He is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption, in order that, as it is written, ‘Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord’ ” [1 Cor 1.26-31]. Perhaps the same could be said for us?

The fact that God looks at this crazy world and notices Leah, and cares for her, is Good News. Actually, it may be bad news for the Jacobs and Labans of our world, but it is Good News for a lot of people—some more than others. This is Good News for people who are poor. The world notices money. God remembers the poor. It is Good News for children, especially those in broken homes or who suffer abuse. Who in our society is more like Leah than they? Children do not get to choose their family. They don’t control anything. God knows them. God sees. God cares about every child. Those who abuse them face the prospect of a terrible wrath.

God’s love is Good News for the lonely. It is Good News for those who grieve. It is Good News for the elderly. It is Good News for those people in nursing homes whom no one comes to visit. God is there. Most people are uncomfortable in nursing homes. The neediness overwhelms them. But to God each person there is lovely. God cares for them; and if we listen to his call, he may ask us to do the same.

God’s love is Good News for the hungry and the homeless. God recently called this congregation to become a host church in the Interfaith Hospitality Network. We answered that call, and we will go on answering it.

God’s love is Good News for sinners—and all of us are sinners. If God loved only the holy people, if only those with pure hearts could hope for his favor, then Jesus would have heaven all to himself. We all miss the mark, which is why, of course, Paul says we have to boast in God if we want to boast. God’s grace, not our holiness, is our only hope.

God’s love is Good News for … you. … I am not calling everyone here a loser, exactly. Unlike Leah, most of us have a good bit of control over our lives. We have resources and command respect. Yet if we are honest, there is so much in life we cannot control. Workers get laid off. Loved ones get sick. Loved ones die. Families fall apart. The world changes. Society changes. The church changes. And nobody asks us what we think about it. It just happens. So perhaps, in your darker moments, for whatever reason, you know how Leah felt. When you do, remember that God sees. Not only does he see and know, he acts and blesses. God’s love is an active love. Always has been. He gave Leah children. He rescued his people from slavery in Egypt. He called back the exiles to their home. He gave his only begotten Son. He called you, and he called me. He gave us a name and a future. He endowed us with grace and dignity. He sends us out to do his work.

Without God us Leahs of the world could do nothing more than sit around feeling sorry for ourselves. OK, maybe we could lash out at the world. It seems more and more despairing losers are lashing out these days. They shoot up schools or the place they used to work. They have no idea. They don’t know God’s love, so they give themselves over to evil. How tragic. How unnecessary. But evil is the fruit of despair. When people lose hope, how easily they sink into the demonic. God’s love changes everything. We no longer have a reason to feel sorry for ourselves. No reason to hate or lash out. God sees! God knows! So we have work to do—and hope. Those twelve tribes are not going to give birth to themselves. And whatever God has for you to do will not get done without you.

This sermon comforts, but it also challenges. The comfort is obvious. God loved Leah. When you are ignored, despised, forgotten, God loves you too. Many of us need to take that to heart. The other side of this message, however, contains the challenge. If God pays attention to the Leahs of the world, then God wants his people to do the same.

Where is our attention? Are we watching the rich and powerful? Do we notice the poor, the weak, the helpless? If we do notice someone who desperately needs a friend, are we kind? I wonder if Laban ever gave Leah’s happiness a thought. In a way I almost hope he didn’t. Better that he was insensitive than that he considered the matter and decided seven more years of free labor was worth more to him than his daughter. What about us? Are we insensitive? Or are we calculating? Both are sins, but it seems to me we are guiltier when we choose not to see than when we are simply too preoccupied with ourselves.

I say all this not to provoke feelings of guilt, nor do I expect us to all become Mother Teresas. Rather, I want you to know what God is like, and I hope that as you experience God’s grace yourself, you will become more like him. I want you to notice … and to care. Because God does. He sees. He knows. He acts. To him be all glory, now and forever. Amen.
rev_mauldin@yahoo.com
October 8, 2006