Different perspectives—Genesis 31:42-43

Depending on God for vindication

What we see sometimes depends on the lens through which we view reality. What is right in our eyes may be wrong (Prov 3:7; 12:15; 26:12, 16; 28:11; 30:12); what matters is how things appear in God’s eyes, for his standard is truth (Deut 6:18; 2 Chron 16:9; Ps 34:15; Prov 5:21; 15:3). As Proverbs 21:2 declares, “Everyone’s path looks straight and right to them, but the Lord evaluates human hearts.”

Jacob had labored hard and Laban had cheated him. In their culture, Jacob could count on their mutual relatives to value a sense of fairness (31:37). Laban, however, insists, “All that you see is mine” (31:43), as if Jacob is the one who has taken what belongs to Laban (31:1). Genesis is plainly on Jacob’s side, although not approving of everything he did. But whereas Laban emphasizes “all that you see,” Jacob appeals to what God has seen—Jacob’s affliction (31:42). Jacob’s appeal is right; in the end, it is ultimately God who vindicates Jacob.

Sometimes we are too ready to believe what others think of us, whether good or bad. People also can wrongly accuse or excuse themselves (cf. Jer 17:9; Rom 2:15). But God is the righteous judge, and we can entrust our way and our vindication to him.

(This is part of a series of posts on Genesis; see e.g., Sodom; floodcreation; fall; God’s favor.)

Be careful whom you trust—Genesis 34:1-3

The narrator of Genesis tells the story of Jacob and the Shechemites partly to remind Israel that they had a history earlier in the land than the conquest, and partly to warn them against trusting Canaanite morality. That Jacob bought land near Shechem (33:19) reminds Israel, as had Abraham’s earlier purchase (23:16-20; repeated in 49:30; 50:13), that their people had a legal foothold in the promised land.

Canaanite morality comes to the fore, however, through the rape of Dinah. Although Jacob had other daughters (37:35), Genesis specifies only Dinah (30:31; 46:15) because only her story is narrated (34:1-26) and the twelve tribes are named for the male patriarchs. The narrator notes that Dinah was spending time with young women her age (34:1), probably to let us know that, even by the stricter standards of the ancient Middle East, she did nothing to attract the royal rapist’s attention. Rape should never be blamed on the victim, but even those inclined to cruelly blame some victims would not find reason to blame Dinah.

That Jacob came “in peace” to Shechem (33:18) may mean that God had protected him on his way (from both Laban and Esau); “peace” often appears with leaving unharmed (e.g., 26:29, 31; 28:21; 44:17). Conversely, it might emphasize that he initially settled in Shechem peacefully; conflict began there only with Shechem’s rape of his daughter. But once violated, such peace became elusive. Hamor and his son Shechem supposed that all of Jacob’s people were at peace with them (34:21)—unaware of the plans of Simeon and Levi against them.

Rape was a serious issue in antiquity as it is today (e.g., Deut 28:30; Judg 19:25; 2 Sam 13:14), so much so that the law of Moses treated it specifically (Deut 22:25-29), comparing a rape victim to a murder victim (22:26) and presuming her innocence in the absence of reasons to the contrary (22:27).

While the narrative evokes horror with its depiction of this rape, however (cf. Gen 34:7, 31), the narrator may be less interested in warning about just one gender than warning about the sexual values of some non-Israelites. A non-Israelite wickedly rapes Jacob’s daughter (34:2), just as later a non-Israelite tries to exploit the enslaved Joseph sexually and then falsely accuses him of raping her (39:7-18). (The writer seems keenly aware that usually society’s power dynamics favor men, but Genesis also depicts women’s influence, sometimes behind the scenes. Thus Rebekah works behind the scenes in favor of Jacob; Sarah urges Abraham to sleep with her servant and later demands the expulsion of Hagar and Ishmael, backed by God; Leah cuts a deal with Rachel so that Jacob must sleep with her that night; and so forth.)

Shechem, the local prince who also bore the city’s name, was the most honored member of his father’s household—yet he raped Jacob’s unsuspecting daughter. Shechem’s evil behavior (34:2) suggests the depraved sexual standards of most of Canaan’s inhabitants, as did potential Philistine threats to Rebecca in 26:10. Not only were Canaanite men not to be trusted sexually; Canaanite women were likewise dangerous (26:34-35; 27:46; 28:1, 8).

Stereotypes are dangerous, but members of societies often do reflect their societies’ prevailing values. Out of concerns for such values, then, Genesis warns Israelites against liaisons with non-Israelites. For ancient hearers of the Torah, intermarriage with Canaan’s residents was the greatest danger posed by their presence (Deut 7:3). This was not, however, a matter of ethnicity in any genetic sense, but stemmed from the danger of such unions enticing God’s consecrated people to worship other, false gods (Deut 7:4). (Thus Ruth, although a Moabitess, becomes part of Israel as she embraces the Israelite people and their God [Ruth 1:16], despite Deut 23:3.)

The principle today would be avoiding intermarriage with those who reject the values of one’s faith, such as fear of the LORD and the honoring of sexual purity. Because Jesus is the most important person in a genuine believer’s life, the deepest connection comes on the level of our faith. To digress for a moment on a pastoral level, I believe we should show grace and understanding in some settings I have witnessed, where Christian women outnumber Christian men two to one, or men believers outnumber Christian women two to one. But there are definite reasons for these biblical warnings (cf. 1 Cor 7:39). There are people who do not share our faith who nevertheless do share many of our values and can be respectful toward our faith; these people are a far cry from characters such as Shechem or Joseph’s accuser. Some are better spouses than those professed Christians who prove abusive, unfaithful, or the like; those who are respectful to faith are often open to it as well, given good reasons and experiences. But spiritual companionship is also an important element of marriage. Marriage is not the only place where it can be found, but as the most intimate of relationships marriage offers a unique opportunity for developing spiritual intimacy. In pastoral situations I have known some who regretted their marriages outside the faith; once the marriage exists, however, the believer in Christ is obligated to seek to make it work (barring circumstances such as abuse, etc.); spiritual incompatibility is not grounds for a Christian to dissolve his or her marriage (1 Cor 7:12-14).

But—leaving the digression—what would happen if some Canaanites were prepared to embrace Israel’s faith and values? In Genesis 34, Jacob’s family almost had the chance to find out. Some of Jacob’s sons, however, squander this opportunity, leaving it to Joseph, later in Genesis, to honor Israel’s God among the Gentiles.

(This is part of a series of studies on Genesis; see e.g., Sodom; floodcreation; fall; God’s favor.)

Jacob’s wives agree with his plan—Genesis 31:14-16

In Jacob’s culture, husbands held the final say. Further, God has spoken, and since Jacob has heard him, Jacob must do what God has commanded. Nevertheless, Jacob carefully presents the case to his wives. Jacob’s wives then weigh in as if he is consulting them in 31:14-16.

Why does Jacob consult them? On one level, he needs their support; he wishes to depart without Laban’s knowledge, and if his wives are not supportive it will be difficult to keep the secret from Laban.

Nevertheless, he presumably also values their support because they are his wives. This would fit a pattern in Genesis: the patriarchs often heeded their wives on matters that involved them (e.g., Gen 16:2; 21:12; 30:3-4, 9, 16). Although parents arranged marriages, even a future wife who was probably in her early teens might nevertheless be consulted on some details (24:5, 8, 57). Sometimes no consultation is mentioned, such as when decisions had to be made quickly (e.g., Gen 32:7-8, 22-23; 33:1-3). But the clearest exception to this pattern in Genesis contravened what God had spoken: the elder would serve the younger (25:22-23). Here Isaac favored Esau over Jacob, forcing Rebekah to resort to subterfuge (27:8-10), so Esau would serve Jacob (27:29, 37, 40). Yet Rebekah was the one who had heard from God in that case.

I am among those who find in the New Testament a countercultural call to mutual submission (Eph 5:21—6:9, esp. 5:21; 6:9). Nevertheless, even Christians who disagree with this reading of the New Testament would concur that the greatest is the servant (Matt 23:11; Luke 22:26), so that all of us are called to serve. Surely this should include, at the least, listening and seeking to build consensus wherever possible. After all, it is not only in war that decisions are made more safely after gathering the perspectives of different counselors (Prov 11:14; 15:22, 31; 20:18; 24:6; cf. 10:17; 18:13). Sometimes the way that seems obviously right to us is misinformed (Prov 14:12; 16:25; 21:2), requiring others’ input (12:15).

Today we do not live in a patriarchal culture. I believe that Genesis suggests, however, that even in a patriarchal culture, a husband is wise who consults his wife (or in Jacob’s case, his wives). In any culture, a work undertaken together is undertaken most effectively when undergirded with voluntary commitment.

(This continues a series of studies on Genesis; see e.g., deceiver; traveling; creation; fall.)

Rachel’s death in childbirth—Genesis 35:16-20

I always hated scripts where somebody gets killed off and the writer gives you a petty reason not to feel too badly for them (I think of one movie where the victim was just vulgar, or another where she was just divorced, etc.). The very act of characterizing the person in some way makes them more identifiably human, and makes my heart go out to them more. (That may be one reason why I don’t watch many movies; when I do watch them I get into them too much.) Every life is precious, and most offenses are not capital (deathworthy) ones—or at least not any more than the sort that we all commit.

So in noting an irony or two surrounding Rachel’s death in Genesis, I am in no way suggesting that she merited her death. (By the time Genesis ends, everybody significant in the book except God has died anyway.) I am simply noting possible literary connections and trying to probe what they mean.

In 35:16-20, Rachel dies in childbirth. This person who dies in childbirth is the same person who earlier demanded of her husband, “Give me children or I will die!” (30:1). Possibly whatever biological issues that made it difficult for her to have children to begin with also led to her death in childbirth, though such death in childbirth was unfortunately common back then. But the narrative connection may also show us how important having children was to Rachel; she preferred death to not having children, and she ultimately did give her life in the process.

Another possible, though less clear connection, comes in ch. 31. Rachel steals her father’s teraphim, probably meaning idols and possibly connected with inheritance rights. Jacob, unaware that Rachel has stolen them, indignantly declares that if Laban finds his teraphim with anyone, that person would not live (31:32). In this case, therefore, Jacob deems this theft a potentially deathworthy offense. Concerned to avoid being detected as the thief, Rachel seats herself on her father’s teraphim, and avoids rising before her father by appealing to the “way of women” (31:35). This undoubtedly means menstruation; given ancient Near Eastern custom, Laban would not wish to touch her in this state, nor would he assume that in this condition she would be sitting on his gods!

But the language of women’s “way” might also evoke pregnancy. In her next pregnancy, Rachel would in fact die. The connection here is less clear, however, both because the “way of women” does not specify pregnancy and also because Rachel probably had recently already surrendered the teraphim when Jacob (presumably by now knowing of the theft) buried all the foreign gods among them (35:4).

A surer connection is simply an echo of the suffering attached to childbirth from the beginning. As Jacob had slaved in the fields for Laban (31:38-41), enduring the hard labor that became humanity’s lot after their inaugural disobedience (3:17-19), so Rachel died in the pangs of childbirth that had befallen humanity at the same time (3:16). That is, although we could identify some sins committed by Rachel or other characters in Genesis, we cannot assume that Rachel was more sinful than others or being punished for her personal sin. (We don’t read in Genesis about any painful death for Esau, for example.) As Jesus pointed out with regard to some recent particularly abrupt deaths, those victims were no worse than others, and all people will face a fate no less horrible if they do not repent (Luke 13:2-5).

What the irony may do is portend (for the hearer who knows the full story) and thus draw attention to her death, thereby increasing the pathos and inviting greater sympathy for this matriarch of Israel. Whatever the possible factors in her death, the account’s ancient Israelite audience would look on Rachel as the ancestor of two of their tribes (three if one counts Ephraim and Manasseh separately).

Clearly their ancestors in Genesis were imperfect humans, whether we think of Jacob or of Simeon and Levi or Judah. Yet God was with these imperfect people, and Rachel’s sacrifice helped make possible their existence as a people, thus qualifying her retroactively as a matriarch in Israel (cf. Ruth 4:11). This observation in turn reminded Genesis’s first audience, and reminds us as well, that God continues to work with imperfect people, so long as we are willing to be shaped by this perfect God. What God can make eternally of the sacrifices we offer in our often ordinary-looking lives is something that will be seen most fully from the vantage point of eternity. Yet God is trustworthy in making these offerings count as part of the larger story he is weaving in history.

(This study continues a series on Genesis. See e.g., God’s favor; Abraham’s promise; Babel.)

God’s favor matters most—Genesis 29

Have you ever felt discriminated against for matters outside your control? As Jacob’s parents showed favoritism toward particular sons, so Jacob showed favoritism toward a particular wife (29:30-31). Jacob was the younger brother of two and favored the younger sister of two, but God’s reversal of the birthright in some cases shows that God himself does not show favoritism based on birth order.

In loving Rachel, Jacob followed romance more than the culture’s expectations about childbearing and thus marrying off the eldest first. Because we do not share those cultural assumptions, it is easier for us than for some of Jacob’s contemporaries to understand his love for Rachel. Moreover, God did indeed have a special plan for Rachel’s children, especially Joseph.

But through no fault of either Rachel or Leah, Jacob ended up with one more wife than he wanted. Once they were married, there was no going back; again in view of the culture, it would be more difficult for her father to marry her off to another husband now that she was no longer a virgin.

Jacob’s favoritism may thus be understandable, but it was painful to Leah, who was an innocent victim of her father’s treachery. Yet even in such a situation, God remained sovereign. He ultimately had a plan for twelve tribes of Israel, not just two, and on a personal level God also took into account Leah’s suffering. In 29:31, God blessed Leah; he looks on our affliction and is near the broken (God also defends Jacob in his affliction, 31:42).

Leah praises God for a son, saying that he looked on her affliction (29:32). (Later, in 35:18, Rachel also experienced “affliction,” tragically giving her life to bear another son.) In 29:32 Reuben’s name communicates that God saw and in 29:33 Simeon’s name communicates that God heard. Even as the less preferred wife, Leah found favor with the God who hears the cries of the broken. Leah hoped that her childbearing would earn her husband’s love (or perhaps even preference; 29:32). Subsequent narratives indicate that Jacob still continued to honor Rachel first. But whether Leah saw it or not, Leah also received favor from the God who looked on her suffering.

Even when others do not treat us fairly, we can depend on the one who sees our hardship and can vindicate us. In the end, it is his opinion of us that matters most.

The deceiver gets deceived—Genesis 29

What Jacob did to others, Jacob now endures from others—though in the long run—sometimes the very long run—God will bless Jacob and more than make up for his suffering.

As Jacob deceived his father and stole his elder brother’s role, so now Rachel’s father deceives Jacob and gives Rachel’s role to his elder daughter (29:23), protecting the right of the literal firstborn (here, Leah) that Jacob had taken had taken from the firstborn of his family of origin (there, Esau). The custom that the firstborn is married first (29:26) fits the birthright going to the first; Jacob got Esau’s birthright for lentils but now has to work an extra seven years for Rachel. In 29:25, Jacob protests that Laban “tricked” him—using the same Hebrew root that in 27:35 Jacob’s father used to describe what Jacob had done to Esau.

Moreover, Jacob finds that even when he has Laban’s daughters, he’s not able to leave town with them. From Laban’s perspective, he will soon learn, the daughters and their offspring remain Laban’s (31:43). Jacob had left father and mother and cleaved to his wife (cf. 2:24), but Laban didn’t intend to let his son-in-law leave him. One can understand Laban’s rationale without approving of it. Abraham’s servant wanted to take Rebekah as a wife for Isaac immediately (Gen 24:54-56), and after that Laban never saw his sister Rebekah again. It thus makes some psychological sense that he does not want his daughters to leave with Jacob (Gen 29:27; 30:27); once Jacob returns to Canaan, Laban will probably never see his daughters again (cf. 31:50, 52).

More than Laban’s love for his daughters was his love of the prosperity that Jacob brought. Laban also wanted Jacob’s continued service and he bought it for seven more years by giving him Rachel (29:26). The daughters knew that their father had “sold” them in return for Jacob’s prosperous service (31:15). Yet Laban didn’t treat Jacob like a son; he kept changing his wages, trying to get as much as possible from Jacob for as little as possible (31:7, 41).

Nevertheless, God would see Jacob’s affliction and help him (31:12, 42). Indeed, in the game of deception, Jacob would come out ahead (31:20), though only because God acted on his behalf (31:24). (This does not provide an ideal model for us today, but God worked on behalf of Jacob within the setting with which he lived.) Laban’s oppression may provide an extra incentive for Jacob to return to the land that God had promised him (cf. 31:2-3). But given Laban’s determination, only God can make that happen safely.

Traveling to a new land—Genesis 28—29

Before Isaac sends Jacob to Mesopotamia, he blesses Jacob to possess the land of his sojournings (Gen 28:4). More significantly, before Jacob can leave for Mesopotamia, God appears to Jacob and promises him the land on which he lies, and that God will bring him back to this land (28:13-15).

After God speaks to Jacob in his sleep, Jacob sets up a stone pillar and pours a libation on it (28:18-22). Setting up a stone could signify a covenant (31:45) or a memorial (35:20). God’s revelation and Jacob’s devotion frame his departure and return to the promised land. When Jacob returns, God again speaks to Jacob, and he sets up a pillar and again pours a libation over it (35:14). Although the Torah later forbade this familiar practice of setting up sacred pillars (Deut 16:22), Scripture preserves memories of earlier times and reports Jacob setting up this stone pillar as an act of devotion.

Soon after Jacob met God at a stone, he meets Rachel at a stone, and Jacob moves this one also (29:10). Different age groups have different sorts of advantages, but one that characterizes young men is their strength (cf. 1 John 2:14), which they can sometimes display as an act of devotion to someone (e.g., John 20:4; 21:7, 11; contrast 21:18). The shepherd Jacob devotes his strength to God; he also shows it off for Rachel.

Jacob first waters (yashq) Laban’s sheep (29:10) but afterwards kisses (yishaq, a different but similar-sounding word) Rachel (29:11). This would not of course be a long romantic kiss but the sort of kiss appropriate to a greeting from a distant relative, though Jacob seems already smitten. In times of transition, our hearts are most vulnerable to new things.

Rachel runs and tells her father Laban (29:12)—as earlier Jacob’s mother Rebekah (Rachel’s aunt) had run to tell her brother Laban. But this story plays out differently than Rebekah’s story, because Jacob has neither the resources nor the orders (or necessarily even the direct invitation) to return to Canaan immediately. Isaac and Rebekah undoubtedly did wish to keep the brothers apart for awhile (27:45). Jacob will soon find himself trapped in Mesopotamia in a way that makes a journey home difficult. How will God’s promise be fulfilled? The answer unfolds in the following chapters of Genesis.

Why did Isaac send Jacob to Laban without a brideprice?—Genesis 28

Why Jacob apparently travels to Mesopotamia without a brideprice is something of a mystery; my guess is simply an educated one. One movie portrays Jacob getting robbed (by an ally of Esau); that, too, is just a guess, but at least it recognizes the problem.

The promise of land and descendants had cost Abraham many acts of faith over the years; he wanted to ensure its continuance to the next generation. To forestall the danger of Isaac settling back in Mesopotamia, Abraham sent his servant rather than Isaac there, and warned his servant not to take Isaac back there (24:2, 6-8). He also gave a huge brideprice (24:10), making the acquiescence of the bride’s family quite likely (24:30, 35). Even if the prospective bride would not come, however, the servant should not take Isaac back there (24:8); God could provide a wife for Isaac by another means.

By contrast, Rebekah and Isaac send the blessed heir Jacob to Mesopotamia, and he apparently carries no brideprice (29:18). Perhaps earlier conflicts with the Philistines had reduced Isaac’s wealth; perhaps he does not share his father’s deep passion; perhaps he simply trusts that God will take care of it, since Isaac believes the efficacy of his blessings (28:3-4); or perhaps a combination of these factors influenced the lack of substantive bride price.

Whatever the reason, though Isaac clearly does want Jacob to get a wife from Paddan-aram (26:35; 28:6-8), he does not send him with a substantive brideprice. But my best guess is that Isaac is still upset about Jacob’s deception. Jacob has the blessing, and Isaac reaffirms this (28:3-4), as Genesis gladly reports. But Genesis leaves unsaid why Jacob is not equipped with wealth. Esau will continue to build on Isaac’s present prosperity (33:9); Jacob, who cheated to get the eventual inheritance, will have to make his own way for now. By the end of Genesis, however, it will be obvious that God’s blessing pronounced by Isaac is worth far more to Jacob than anything else Isaac could have given him.

Jacob gets Esau’s blessing—Genesis 27

Rebekah had heard from God that the elder would serve the younger, and thus she urged her (slightly) younger son Jacob to get the blessing. Genesis does not comment directly on the morality of this decision, honoring its outcome but depicting also a world in which everyone was getting snared by deceptions (see http://www.craigkeener.org/was-rebekah-a-positive-character-genesis-27/). Rebekah had a good deal of private influence on her husband (27:46—28:2), but apparently not on this matter. The taste of Esau’s game made Isaac prefer him (25:28); Rebekah preferred Jacob, no doubt especially because of God’s message to her (25:22-23).

Rebekah persuaded her son Jacob to pretend to be his brother Esau and bring her husband Isaac meat before Esau could. How was Isaac fooled by goat kids (27:9) as if they were wild game? Aside from age perhaps dulling his taste as well as his sight, Rebekah fixed them the way that Isaac liked (27:9), perhaps with spices or other ingredients that overwhelmed the flavor. (Esau also fixed meat the same way—27:31.)

The parallel between Esau and Jacob is highlighted by Esau’s claims in 27:31-32 echoing those of Jacob in 27:19. With slightly different wording, each declared, “I am Esau, your firstborn son. Get up and eat of my game, so you may bless me.” The difference is not in their claims, but that Jacob got there first! Now Esau will be Jacob’s servant (27:37), just as, in Noah’s blessing of Shem and Japheth earlier in Genesis, Canaan was to be their servant (9:25-26).

Esau complains that Jacob has taken both his “birthright” and his “blessing” (27:36). His complaint contains a play on Hebrew words for “birthright” (bekorah, firstborn) and “blessing” (berakah). Esau’s anger becomes a catalyst for Jacob’s necessary relocation to Paddan-Aram (Mesopotamia), where he can find more God-fearing wives than in Canaan (26:34-35; 27:42—28:5).

Marital conflict in the Bible

I don’t like arguments, and I especially do not like arguments with people close to me. (The less my relationship with a person, the less I care what they think about me, except when they’re armed!) Warning: the purpose of this post is not to stir more arguments. But what do you do when they happen?

Did you know that even some of the great patriarchs and matriarchs whom we honor in Genesis, the first book of the Bible, had marital conflicts? Marital conflict obviously is not the ideal; it was apparently introduced as a result of the fall (cf. the final lines of Gen 3:16, especially in view of the same key Hebrew terminology in 4:7).

Nevertheless, it happened often enough that it gets recorded even in the very selective accounts of Genesis, a book more focused on God’s promise. A few examples of such conflicts may suffice, though the character of each of these examples varies from the others.

Abraham often appears to be a peacemaker where he could be (e.g., 13:8), but circumstances did cause times of discomfort even in his marriage. In light of ancient custom, Sarai felt responsible to provide Abram an heir one way or another. Thus, following expectations for women of her class in Mesopotamia, where the couple was from, she wanted her Egyptian maid Hagar to act as a sort of surrogate mother to provide her a son. Once Hagar was pregnant with Abram’s heir, however, her own background expectations took over, and she became less respectful of Sarai.

In this situation, Sarai charged Abram for being at fault (16:4-5); he gave way to her (16:6). (Ironically, the one person God speaks to and protects in this narrative is Hagar; 16:6-14.) Years later, Sarah demands that Hagar and Ishmael be sent away (21:10). The narrator does not tell us whether Sarah and Abraham argued, but the narrator does make quite clear Abraham’s distress (21:11). The distress was resolved only when God instructed him to heed Sarah’s words (21:12) but promised a good future also for Ishmael (21:13). (God again helps Hagar and Ishmael, 21:15-21.)

Circumstances beyond our control can often cause us stress, and beyond a given level of stress we sometimes blow up at others unfairly. In the ancient Middle East, as in many cultures today, society valued men for their agrarian or pastoral productivity and women particularly for their childbearing. Jealous of Leah’s childbearing and brokenhearted over her own inability to have children, Rachel demanded to Jacob, “Give me children, or else I’ll die!” (30:1).

Jacob had no more control over the situation than Rachel did. Rather than responding to her on the level of her grief, he took her demand as an unfair accusation. He got angry (30:2), and protested, “Am I in God’s place? God is the one who’s kept you from bearing!” (30:2). Jacob was right about God being sovereign (cf. 29:31; 30:22), but his angry words might have wounded Rachel even more. Perhaps (this is not clear) she even understood him as claiming that her lack of pregnancy was God’s judgment, since inability to have children was often so understood in their culture. (In the Bible it was not always a judgment—see e.g., 11:30; 25:21; and even when it was, it was often judgment on a people or a group, not on the individuals who suffered it—e.g., 20:18.) Both Jacob and Rachel spoke from frustration, but in the long run their love for one another was undiminished (cf. 29:30; 37:3; 48:7).

Less argumentative but more reflective of long-term issues was the division between Isaac and Rebekah concerning their children. Though Genesis does not tell us whether the two argued about it along the way, in the end they each sought their own way without communication. This does not necessarily mean that they did not love each other, nor is there the slightest thought of divorce or separation. Moreover, the narrator’s interest is in his people rather than the Edomites being the ones to whom God gave the promise, not so much in the marital dynamics of this couple. Nevertheless, and despite the romantic story of their coming together, they experienced less than forthright communication.

God told Rebekah that the elder would serve the younger, so she favored Jacob (25:23, 28), but Isaac favored Jacob, because he liked to eat the wild game that Esau hunted (25:28). Isaac planned to give the blessing to Esau; given societal expectations, Rebekah had no final say in the matter, so she went around behind Isaac’s back and helped Jacob to get the blessing deceptively (27:5-17).

This does not imply that Rebekah had no influence over Jacob; she could privately persuade Isaac to send Jacob to Mesopotamia to get a proper wife from among their relatives (27:46); both Isaac and Rebekah were unhappy with Esau’s local wives (26:34-35). Yet Rebekah chose not to disturb Isaac with the more urgent reason for sending Jacob away—namely, that his brother Esau now wanted to kill him (27:41-45).

Because Isaac was blind, he couldn’t know everything that was going on in their camp, but Rebekah apparently did, and she did not tell him about it. It’s hard to say how much of this Isaac knew about and chose to ignore. Such a relationship may not have been considered so dysfunctional in their setting, but it certainly would be in ours.

When we bring together different people from different backgrounds, differences are inevitable. We may address those differences constructively—or not; but differences will arise, one way or the other. Sometimes, as with the (obviously nonmarital) conflict between Barnabas and Paul in Acts 15:36-40, both sides have a good point and speak from genuinely important values. Although right and wrong exist and some conflicts (say, with Boko Haram and its victims) fall into that category, reality can be more complex than one side always being completely in the right and the other completely in the wrong. Unhappily, Paul and Barnabas divided over this conflict, so in contrast with the picture of peaceful resolution of the church’s conflicts in the previous narrative (Acts 15:25, 28).

Sometimes how we resolve disagreements is even more important than the conclusion we come to. As God told Abraham to heed Sarah on an occasion narrated above, the best resolution is not always what initially seems best to us (cf. Prov 12:15; 21:2; 26:12). Nevertheless, communication seems much healthier for us than the way that Isaac and Rebekah related to each other. (We can affirm this without us needing to take sides on which of the two, if either, was in the right.)

Personally, I much prefer to resolve differences in a controlled setting without losing tempers; still, as our marriage enrichment instructors, Peter and Carol Schreck, emphasized, when you are going to debate a topic, “fight fair.” Disagreements need not escalate into arguments with tempers flaring, but even when that happens, as in the case of Rachel and Jacob noted above, such flares need not be permanent and need not mar a marriage’s long-term happiness.