VaYetzei
Laban was not Jacob’s dream of an ideal father-in-law. He was a cheat. He was deceitful. He was an ingrate. He was a terrible, uncaring father who used his daughters as pawns, and treated them like chattel.
That is certainly the way the commentators look at Laban. That is how the Passover Haggadah looks at Laban when it describes him as an Aramean who sought to destroy Jacob. That is what Jacob thought when he told his wives, “your father has tricked me and has switched my wages ten times over.” That is how Rachel and Leah viewed their father when they said: “Do we still have any share in the inheritance of our father’s house? Why, we have been counted by him as strangers, for he has sold us, and he has wholly consumed our money. For whatever wealth God has reclaimed from our father is ours and our children’s.”
Wealth? Switched wages? Maybe we’re not reading the same Bible. As I recall, Jacob showed up with nothing but a walking stick. The Bible doesn’t recount a single instance of Laban switching, changing or altering Jacob’s wages or reneging on their deal. Quite the contrary, the Bible says Jacob robbed Laban blind. Jacob selectively bred the sheep and the goats so that, in the words of the Bible: “the feeble ones went to Laban, and the vigorous one’s to Jacob.”
Not surprisingly, Laban’s sons – Jacob’s brothers-in-law - complain that Jacob has taken everything from their father. The Bible would seem to back them up on that. Indeed, he stole their blessing – their inheritance - as surely as he stole Esau’s.
But still, Laban was no saint. He did switch wives on Jacob. He did make Jacob work fourteen years as the dowry for his wives.
We understand that, ultimately, Jacob has had enough. He takes his family and his flocks and he runs away. Laban follows in hot pursuit. Of course, we know that what he’s really after are the household idols – the teraphim – that Rachel has stolen. But he doesn’t say that. Laban is far to shrewd to state his true concerns outright, so the first thing he does is cry out in righteous indignation: “What have you done, deceiving me, and driving my daughters like captives of the sword? …And you did not let me kiss my sons and daughters!”
Now we know that he is not really worried that his daughters may have been treated like captives. He really isn’t upset that he didn’t get to kiss the grandkids good bye. He wants his idols.
Right?
Wrong.
When it’s all over, after all of Jacob’s protestations, accusations and justifications, Laban replies: “The daughters are my daughters, and the sons are my sons, and the flocks are my flocks, and all that you see is mine.”
And then he concludes with parting words that should hit us like a smack in the face: “May the Lord look out between you and me when we are out of each other’s sight. Should you harass my daughters, and should you take wives besides my daughters, though no one else be present, see, God is witness between you and me!”
Those are strong words from an uncaring father. Strong words from a manipulative scoundrel who treated his daughters like property. Laban warns his son-in-law in no uncertain terms that he had better treat his daughters right. He threatens Jacob. He says I’ll be watching you. And even if you are far away and out of my sight, and I can’t come to my daughters’ aid, God will be watching you. These are not the words of an uncaring scoundrel. These are the words of a father who loves his daughters dearly, and who is sincerely worried about their future.
Perhaps we should reexamine everything we’ve read, and everything we’ve thought.
Jacob shows up without a penny to his name. Laban sees a young man with potential, a man from his own clan, his sister’s son – a good match for his daughters. This penniless young fellow is even courting one of his daughters. Unfortunately, there is one stumbling block – the groom-to-be has no prospects. So, Laban sets on a plan. He takes Jacob into the family business. He makes Jacob rich at his own expense. He does this because it means that his daughters will have a good husband who will be able to provide for them. And it means that Laban will have the joy of seeing his daughters with him for another twenty years. He will be able to protect them and guarantee their safety and their future. He will see his grandchildren grow up. He sacrifices everything to that plan.
Of course, Rachel and Leah and Jacob don’t see it that way. Children never see their parents clearly. Rachel and Leah see their father as manipulative and out for his own interests. For Jacob, Laban is a father-in-law who is denying him his freedom and his independence. That is how they interpret what they see and feel.
Laban, of course, sees things differently, right to the end. He is just trying to do the best he can to protect and provide for his children. He can’t understand why they don’t appreciate that.
The text is neutral. It is open to either interpretation. Just like our own lives. Often, our children don’t understand us. We don’t understand them. Just as we didn’t understand our parents and they didn’t understand us. We thought our parents were ruining our lives, we think our children are ungrateful for all that we try to do for them. It makes no sense. But it’s easier to see why it is so when you have the perspective of three thousand five hundred years, or so. Looking back, we can see both sides.
It is often said that when we grow up we become our own parents. It would seem that ultimately, we become our ancestors, as well. The challenge is to take that understanding and implement it in our own lives. The challenge is to recognize that part of us that is Laban, that part of us that is Jacob, that part that is Rachel and that part that is Leah. The challenge is to take the lessons of the Bible, and realize them in ourselves. Ultimately, the challenge is to accept that the past is not just history; it is who we are today.
That is certainly the way the commentators look at Laban. That is how the Passover Haggadah looks at Laban when it describes him as an Aramean who sought to destroy Jacob. That is what Jacob thought when he told his wives, “your father has tricked me and has switched my wages ten times over.” That is how Rachel and Leah viewed their father when they said: “Do we still have any share in the inheritance of our father’s house? Why, we have been counted by him as strangers, for he has sold us, and he has wholly consumed our money. For whatever wealth God has reclaimed from our father is ours and our children’s.”
Wealth? Switched wages? Maybe we’re not reading the same Bible. As I recall, Jacob showed up with nothing but a walking stick. The Bible doesn’t recount a single instance of Laban switching, changing or altering Jacob’s wages or reneging on their deal. Quite the contrary, the Bible says Jacob robbed Laban blind. Jacob selectively bred the sheep and the goats so that, in the words of the Bible: “the feeble ones went to Laban, and the vigorous one’s to Jacob.”
Not surprisingly, Laban’s sons – Jacob’s brothers-in-law - complain that Jacob has taken everything from their father. The Bible would seem to back them up on that. Indeed, he stole their blessing – their inheritance - as surely as he stole Esau’s.
But still, Laban was no saint. He did switch wives on Jacob. He did make Jacob work fourteen years as the dowry for his wives.
We understand that, ultimately, Jacob has had enough. He takes his family and his flocks and he runs away. Laban follows in hot pursuit. Of course, we know that what he’s really after are the household idols – the teraphim – that Rachel has stolen. But he doesn’t say that. Laban is far to shrewd to state his true concerns outright, so the first thing he does is cry out in righteous indignation: “What have you done, deceiving me, and driving my daughters like captives of the sword? …And you did not let me kiss my sons and daughters!”
Now we know that he is not really worried that his daughters may have been treated like captives. He really isn’t upset that he didn’t get to kiss the grandkids good bye. He wants his idols.
Right?
Wrong.
When it’s all over, after all of Jacob’s protestations, accusations and justifications, Laban replies: “The daughters are my daughters, and the sons are my sons, and the flocks are my flocks, and all that you see is mine.”
And then he concludes with parting words that should hit us like a smack in the face: “May the Lord look out between you and me when we are out of each other’s sight. Should you harass my daughters, and should you take wives besides my daughters, though no one else be present, see, God is witness between you and me!”
Those are strong words from an uncaring father. Strong words from a manipulative scoundrel who treated his daughters like property. Laban warns his son-in-law in no uncertain terms that he had better treat his daughters right. He threatens Jacob. He says I’ll be watching you. And even if you are far away and out of my sight, and I can’t come to my daughters’ aid, God will be watching you. These are not the words of an uncaring scoundrel. These are the words of a father who loves his daughters dearly, and who is sincerely worried about their future.
Perhaps we should reexamine everything we’ve read, and everything we’ve thought.
Jacob shows up without a penny to his name. Laban sees a young man with potential, a man from his own clan, his sister’s son – a good match for his daughters. This penniless young fellow is even courting one of his daughters. Unfortunately, there is one stumbling block – the groom-to-be has no prospects. So, Laban sets on a plan. He takes Jacob into the family business. He makes Jacob rich at his own expense. He does this because it means that his daughters will have a good husband who will be able to provide for them. And it means that Laban will have the joy of seeing his daughters with him for another twenty years. He will be able to protect them and guarantee their safety and their future. He will see his grandchildren grow up. He sacrifices everything to that plan.
Of course, Rachel and Leah and Jacob don’t see it that way. Children never see their parents clearly. Rachel and Leah see their father as manipulative and out for his own interests. For Jacob, Laban is a father-in-law who is denying him his freedom and his independence. That is how they interpret what they see and feel.
Laban, of course, sees things differently, right to the end. He is just trying to do the best he can to protect and provide for his children. He can’t understand why they don’t appreciate that.
The text is neutral. It is open to either interpretation. Just like our own lives. Often, our children don’t understand us. We don’t understand them. Just as we didn’t understand our parents and they didn’t understand us. We thought our parents were ruining our lives, we think our children are ungrateful for all that we try to do for them. It makes no sense. But it’s easier to see why it is so when you have the perspective of three thousand five hundred years, or so. Looking back, we can see both sides.
It is often said that when we grow up we become our own parents. It would seem that ultimately, we become our ancestors, as well. The challenge is to take that understanding and implement it in our own lives. The challenge is to recognize that part of us that is Laban, that part of us that is Jacob, that part that is Rachel and that part that is Leah. The challenge is to take the lessons of the Bible, and realize them in ourselves. Ultimately, the challenge is to accept that the past is not just history; it is who we are today.
Avinoam Sharon
