Fruitfulness in Affliction

Cross-posted from the Tyndale House Ink Magazine, which you can have delivered to your inbox or postbox for free here.

Genesis 29–30 is a remarkable story. It’s about two women who bear great fruit despite difficult circumstances. It’s also a strange story. Consider its broader context. World-changing events are in train. In Genesis 11, human beings seek to ‘make a name for themselves’, which God isn’t happy with. He therefore scatters Shinar’s inhabitants throughout the earth (Gen. 11.4) and promises to make Abraham’s name great instead (Gen. 11–12).

God’s promise soon starts to take effect. Wherever Abraham goes, he prospers (despite some debatable decisions). He betters men of the stature of Pharaoh (Gen. 12), defeats coalitions of kings (Gen. 14), and amasses great riches in the process (Gen. 13.2, 6, 24.30, 26.13).

So it’s a bit odd when we get to Genesis 29–30 and find Jacob—the inheritor of Abraham’s promise (Gen. 28.4)—in a foreign land, breeding sheep for his kinsman Laban. (The particular way in which he breeds sheep is also a bit odd, as is the way he ends up married to Leah and Rachel.) It feels as if the story of Scripture has taken a strange and slightly anticlimactic turn, especially given the amount of time it devotes to these events. Indeed, the text devotes over four times as many verses to the birth of Jacob’s children as it does to the tower of Babel (Gen. 11.2–9, 29.31–30.24). Why?

A few answers can be given. One is that, in the context of the book of Genesis, naming is a big deal.

In Creation Week, God adds form to the world and then names what he has formed (the Day and Night, Heaven, Earth, etc.). Scripture thus associates the act of naming with dividing things up, which is a major theme of the book of Genesis. A single stream of humanity is divided up into two branches (Cain’s and Seth’s). Then, after the flood, Seth’s branch divides into three (Shem’s, Ham’s, and Japheth’s), which populate the earth. Not long afterwards, Shem’s branch divides into two (Gen. 10.25), and then Terah’s into three (Gen. 11.26). And so things continue, most often in divisions of two or three, until we get to Genesis 29–30 where the line of Jacob/Israel fans out into eleven branches, soon to become twelve with the birth of Benjamin (Gen. 35.16-18). Each of these branches is assigned a name by Leah and Rachel (with the exception of Benjamin), by which token it becomes ingrained into the fabric of world history. The names that Leah and Rachel give their children will be expanded on in Genesis 49, where their sound and semantics become the foundation for many of Jacob’s blessings, and these names will also be borne before the Lord on the high priest’s ephod (Exod. 28.9-12), not to mention inscribed on the gates of the New Jerusalem (Rev. 21:12). Leah’s and Rachel’s actions in Genesis 29–30 thus influence the shape of world history.

But it’s not just the acts of Leah and Rachel naming their children that are significant; the meanings of the names are also significant. Many of them reflect the grief that Leah and Rachel experienced as a result of their unhappy situation. The name Reuben has to do with ‘affliction’ (Gen. 29.32). The name Simeon concerns the fact that Leah is hated, and that God has ‘heard’ about it (Gen. 29.33). Implicit in the name Levi is Jacob’s lack of interest in Leah (Gen. 29.34). Dan’s name reflects Rachel’s belief that her decision to obtain a child through Bilhah (her maidservant) had been vindicated (Gen. 30.6). And the name Naphtali concerns Rachel’s continued ‘striving’ with her sister, as well as her ‘striving’ after a child (Gen. 30.8).

So, while Leah and Rachel are fruitful, their fruitfulness emerges out of a backdrop of pain and travail (as all children do to some degree!). As such, the story of Genesis 29–30 is distinctly reminiscent of a related story about fruitfulness in the midst of pain—the Exodus. Consider the similarities between them: Jacob-aka-Israel relocates to a foreign land, where he labours for a foreign master (Laban/Pharaoh). Although that master seeks to trick him and change his wages, Jacob/Israel is fruitful and greatly multiplies; indeed, the more his master seeks to hinder him, the more he prospers (Gen. 30.35, 41–43, Exod. 1.12). The relationship between Israel and Laban/Pharaoh thus starts to turn sour. And so, in the end, Israel is forced to leave the land, which he does along with Laban/Pharaoh’s riches, at which point the former master chases after him in an unsuccessful attempt to recover them.¹

The similarities between these two stories are underlined by their use of certain key Hebrew words. Both Jacob and Israel are said to ‘increase’ (paratz) in size (Gen. 30.43, Exod. 1.12). As a result, both Laban and Pharaoh seek to ‘cheat’ (talal) Jacob/Israel (Gen. 31.7, Exod. 8.29). And, in both stories, deliverance comes because God ‘looks’ (ra’ah) down in mercy on the ‘affliction’ (‘oni) of his people (Gen. 29.32, Exod. 3.7), which are the two words from which the name Reuben is composed.

But, while five of the first six names of Leah and Rachel’s children reflect grief and sorrow, that’s not the case for all eleven. Three of Leah’s children’s names are more positive: Judah means ‘praise’, Gad means ‘good fortune’, and Asher means ‘blessed’. And these names seem to set the stage for better things to come. Rachel is soon to have a child of her own. Before that happens, however, the author of Genesis tells us about an unusual incident. Reuben comes across some mandrakes while he’s out in the field and gives them to Leah. And, in exchange for them, Rachel allows Leah to spend a night with Jacob. How we’re supposed to interpret this incident isn’t clear to me. What is clear, however, is its outcome—the birth of Issachar (Gen. 30.14–18). It is an important event, both because of the meaning of the name Issachar and because of an allusion to it in the book of Jeremiah.

The name Issachar is unusual. It’s built around the Hebrew word sachar, which denotes a ‘wage/reward’, and the way it’s spelt suggests it should be etymologised as yesh-sachar and translated as ‘There is a reward’. In fact, the prophet Jeremiah hints at this in his description of Israel’s restoration.²

Prior to Jerusalem’s fall at the hands of the Babylonians (587 BC), Jeremiah likens Judah’s coming exile to Rachel’s barrenness. Just as Rachel went without children for much of her life (which was a reproach to her), so Judah will be left childless by the exile (Jer. 31.15). Nevertheless, Jeremiah encourages Judah not to lose heart. Her children and fortunes will ultimately be restored. Those who continue in their labours, Jeremiah says, will reap a reward—a statement he conveys via the Hebrew words yesh-sachar (Issachar!) (Jer. 31.16). And the nature of that reward is noteworthy. It will come in the form of the new covenant, and will thus involve the reconciliation of two sisters—Judah and Israel/Ephraim (Jer. 3.6–7, 31.18–34, Ezek. 37.15–28), all of which brings us back to the events of Genesis 30 where the birth of Issachar marks a turning-point in the lives of Leah and Rachel. After Issachar’s birth, the two sisters’ rivalry is no longer mentioned, nor do the two sisters assign sorrowful names to their children. Instead, Leah bears a sixth son named Zebulun (‘Honour’), at which point Rachel finally conceives and bears Joseph, whose name (which sounds like the verb ‘to take away’) describes the way God has (finally!) taken away her reproach (Gen. 30.23).

In sum, then, while the details of Genesis 29–30 might initially seem strange and even unnecessary for us to know, they are important. There is a significance to the fact that Leah and Rachel name their children, as there is to the meanings of the names they choose, as well as to the ways those names link up with the rest of Scripture. And undergirding and overarching all these things is the central message of Rachel and Leah’s story: even in the midst of great difficulties, God’s people can bear great fruit. The God whom we worship can transform pain into fruitfulness, which is neatly captured by Benjamin’s change of name. The son whom Rachel names Ben-Oni, which means ‘Son of Affliction’, is later renamed Benjamin, which means ‘A Son of my Right Hand’, i.e., ‘One who will Inherit (God’s Promise)’.

1. I’m grateful to James Jordan for pointing out many of these connections. I haven’t actually read the texts where he does that, but I’ve imbibed them second hand, which I take to be testimony to James Jordan’s often underestimated influence.

2. I’m grateful to Rabbi David Fohrman for these insights, which Alastair Roberts helpfully drew to my attention.