You can be forgiven if you don’t know much about Leah, Jacob’s first but least-favorite wife. Even my Bible heading names the section we’re discussing “Jacob’s Children”. Yet over the past few years this brief passage has become for me a lifeline, and Leah one of my faith she-ros. Let’s look at the lesson of Leah.
(For context, read Genesis 29.)
We all know what it feels like to play second fiddle to someone who seems to have it all. One of the lessons I’ve learned as I’ve grown older is that every one of us has that experience. If you’re thinking of someone you’ve always felt second to, you can be sure that in some area of her life she has someone she’s always felt second to. It’s part of our human condition, a result of the Fall that leaves us constantly aware that something is lacking in us.
Leah played second to her younger sister - and everyone, even her father, affirmed Rachel’s beauty and desirability over Leah’s. Laban wasn’t exalting Leah when he snuck her under the wedding veil - he was protecting himself from having to support a daughter he had decided wouldn’t be able to find a husband on her own.
So Leah comes into a marriage to Jacob, the deceiver, under false pretenses. She lives her honeymoon week knowing it would be the only week she would ever have as Jacob’s only wife. She watches his disappointment at her, his undisguised eagerness for another woman, his willingness to sleep with her but not love her. Scripture names Jacob’s attitude toward her: Hatred.
But Leah’s devastating marriage was only the beginning of her story. Reread Genesis 29:31-35.
When the LORD saw that Leah was hated, he opened her womb, but Rachel was barren. And Leah conceived and bore a son, and she called his name Reuben, for she said, "Because the LORD has looked upon my affliction; for now my husband will love me." She conceived again and bore a son, and said, "Because the LORD has heard that I am hated, he has given me this son also." And she called his name Simeon. Again she conceived and bore a son, and said, "Now this time my husband will be attached to me, because I have borne him three sons." Therefore his name was called Levi. And she conceived again and bore a son, and said, "This time I will praise the LORD." Therefore she called his name Judah. Then she ceased bearing.
God saw Leah. He gave her the honor - and in that culture it was an honor - of bearing Jacob’s first four sons. For once in her life, Leah found herself in first place in at least one arena of life. Rachel was even jealous of her (see Gen. 30:1). But childbirth wasn’t Leah’s ultimate salvation from her misery. The lesson I’ve learned from Leah truly begins as reality dawns on her that nothing, not even the honor of four sons to Rachel’s none, would earn her husband’s love.
Leah names each of her sons, and through her words around their names we can see her heart change:
“Now my husband will love me”
“God heard I'm hated”
“Now my husband will be attached to me”
“This time I will praise the Lord”.
Stop for a minute and look at Leah’s progression. She starts off as any bride would, just wanting to earn Jacob’s love (Reuben means “See, a son” - you can even hear her plea to Jacob in the name). She realizes God hears and knows of her situation, but it’s still not enough (Simeon sounds like “heard”). With Levi, she settles for just wanting Jacob to be attached to her (the meaning of Levi is “attached”). My heart breaks for her at this moment. She’s given up on love. She just wants Jacob to come to her for more than physical satisfaction. She longs for connection.
Before you discount this lesson as meaningless because you’re not married or because your marriage is blissful, think about that longing. All of us as image bearers are created for connection - created to connect with God and with others in genuine, deep community. It’s such a deep longing, a good longing, that solitary confinement is considered the worst punishment and is generally saved for the worst offenders in prison. It’s a longing that prompts Christians to walk for hours to a church gathering in a country where church is illegal. It’s a longing that leads many into relationship addictions and keeps people trapped in unhealthy patterns. Somewhere inside of us, married or not, we all long for connection. And because we live in a fallen world, we’ve all been disappointed by its absence. We’ve all settled for less, like Leah was willing to do. And in that pain is where Leah’s lesson really takes root in my heart.
Because the last child gets a name with a different meaning, and a different response from his mother:
“This time I will praise the Lord” (Judah sounds like “praise”).
Her last son, born after she was willing to settle for less, doesn’t get her the attachment she had hoped for. He gets her something different - a new perspective. She finally turns her eyes from Jacob - whether he loves her, hates her, is or is not attached to her - and looks upward. She finally sees the God who saw her in her affliction years earlier, who had compassion on an unwanted bride and opened her womb first. Her marriage to a deceiver, entered into with deception, never became what she hoped it would. But in that pain, in that brokenness, she got to a place where she was still ok. Where she could say “This time I will praise the Lord.”
And that’s the lesson of Leah I’ve had to learn in my own disappointments - in marriage, in friendship, in church hurt, in moments of devastating emotional pain. When all my best efforts to “fix it” fell far short, when my own brokenness only made things worse, when all I could think about was what the other person might think of me now that I did X, Y, or Z - God kept watching over me, seeing my hurt, giving me precious gifts of mercy along the way - drawing me with cords of kindness until I could finally say, in the midst of another disappointment, “This time I will praise the Lord.”.
We’re not quite finished with Leah’s story, though.
(Read Matthew 1:2-3, 16; Luke 3:23, 33-34; Revelation 5:5.)
Judah - the son whose name sounds like “praise” - became the ancestor of the Messiah. Jesus Himself, God in the flesh, was descended not from Jacob’s favorite wife Rachel, but from the one Scripture says he hated - from Leah’s son Judah. Let that sink in.
Leah, by turning to God in trust and praise at Judah’s birth, became part of the great story of faith - part of the people of God. Leah will be praising Him in the great throng of witnesses forever - her very real, but temporal pain behind her. She will look at Him from a different angle than the rest of us, though. Because to her, He will be family - a direct descendent from her precious boy Judah, whose birth taught her to trust in Him. Jesus is, among many other things, the Bridegroom to the church. He became the perfect Bridegroom His ancestor Jacob never could manage to be. God saw Leah’s tears, gave her children, and chose one of them as the ancestor for His incarnation.
Whatever your relational pain and disappointment looks like today, whatever brokenness you sense from feeling like you are “not enough” to someone else’s “perfect”, wherever you feel unseen and even hated - may the lesson of Leah become your lesson. At the next deep pang of your heart, the next painful memory or recurring fear, ask God for the grace to say, “This time I will praise the Lord”.
In the words of Eric Taylor in “Friday Night Lights” - “Clear Eyes - Full Heart - Can’t Lose.” He's got you.
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