What Goes Around... Reflections on Genesis 29:15-28, Ninth Sunday after Pentecost, Year A

by John C. Holbert on Friday, May 22, 2026

         This is one of the truly wry passages in the long tale of Jacob, the Grabber. He has fled his enraged brother, Esau, the hairy one, because he has apparently tricked his dying, blind father out of the birthright and the blessing rightly intended for his brother. It should be noted that some ancient commentators have suggested that the old man, Isaac, knew perfectly well which son he was blessing, because Esau simply was not worthy of such a splendid future. Be that as it may, the result of the act of blessing leads to Esau’s desire to kill his grabbing brother, a nasty vow that is overheard by mother Rebecca who warns her favorite boy, Jacob, to hightail it out of town and go back to the family home place in Haran.

         And Jacob does so, and on the journey meets the beautiful daughter of his uncle Laban, Rachel, and falls instantly in love (or lust) with her. When Rachel rushes to her father to reveal that a near kinsman has appeared at the local well, Laban “ran toward him, embraced him, and kissed him and brought him to his house, and after hearing his story, says, “Indeed, you are my bone and my flesh” (Gen.29:13-14). Laban’s exuberant behavior toward his nephew is both typical Middle-eastern hospitality, and also perhaps a step in Laban’s already hatched plan to find a mate for his two daughters, the older of which, Leah, has yet to be mentioned in the tale.

         Jacob is soon working for his uncle in his sheep business, possibly wooing his desired Rachel, but asking nothing else of his uncle. Things seem to be fine; he has work and he is miles away from his furious brother. However, Laban has other plans. “Just because you are my kin, should you serve me for nothing?” (Gen.29:15). This seems a magnanimous gesture; Jacob’s labor for Laban should be compensated in some way. He should not be asked to work for nothing surely, just because he is family. “Tell me what your wages should be,” asks Laban. Much is hidden in this scene. Laban knows well that Jacob is mad for Rachel, his younger daughter, but he also knows that his older daughter, Leah, must be dealt with before the younger may become a bride. And there appears to be some problem with Leah. The text is problematic here. NRSV reads “Leah’s eyes were lovely,” but adds a footnote, “meaning of Hebrew uncertain.” The adjective is normally an antonym of “hard,” and means “soft, gentle, tender.” Old RSV read “weak,” suggesting some kind of impairment (perhaps odd-looking or odd-shaped eyes?). I might suggest that to emphasize Leah’s lovely eyes is to say that her eyes were her best feature. Her sister on the other hand “was comely in features and comely to look at,” an altogether gorgeous woman in every way. However one might construe the scene, it seems likely that there is a sharp contrast being made between Leah and Rachel, and Jacob has eyes only for Rachel.

         Laban knows this fact all too well, and schemes to find a husband for lovely-eyed Leah, who is after all the eldest daughter. He bids Jacob work for him for seven years in order to gain access to his beloved Rachel. This does seem to be a grossly excessive demand, but the seven years “seemed in his eyes a few days in his love for her” (Gen.29:20). After the seven years have passed, Jacob asks for Rachel’s hand. The feast is long and elaborate, and on the final night, Laban veils his eldest daughter, Leah, and leads her to the marriage bed, instead of Rachel. One can well imagine Laban and his cronies, anxious for the light of morning, sitting about Jacob’s tent, eager to witness the fun of seeing Jacob’s emergence after a night with Leah! A delightful dialogue is created for this scene in Midrash Bereishit Rabba, recounted by Robert Alter (see his translation and commentary, pages 155-156). “And all night he cried out to her, ‘Rachel!’ and she answered him. And in the morning,…look, she was Leah.’ He said to her, ‘Why did you deceive me daughter of a deceiver? Did I not call out Rachel in the night, and you answered me!’ She said, ‘There is never a bad barber who does not have disciples. Is not this how your father cried out Esau, and you answered him?’”

         Thus is Jacob, the chief deceiver, deceived, hung on his own actions, hoisted on his own petard. What goes around comes around, as the saying goes, and this tale may be the parade example of that ancient notion. Yet, just what might it mean for us today? We live in a time of rampant and near-ubiquitous deception and lying. The current president of the USA is a near-constant exponent of lying and deceit. It has been said that he only lies when he opens his mouth. Indeed, his lying is a feature of his dealings with others, either his family, his cohorts, and any with whom he has dealings, foreign and domestic. I was recently given a cap by a friend that says, “Make Lying Wrong Again.” Indeed! However, if the ancient maxim holds: “what goes around comes around,” many hope that all this lying and deception will find its day in the light of truth. 

         It is altogether true that later in Jacob’s story, he is cruelly lied to and tricked by his own children. His favorite son, Joseph, is despised by his brothers, since he is the favored one, even parading about in a “long robe with sleeves,” woven by his father, Jacob. The brothers plot to murder their preening brother, though due to an intervention by their eldest sibling, they decide to toss him into a dry well, expecting a lingering death by starvation. The boys return to their anxious father, and concoct a tale suggesting that Joseph has been devoured by wild beasts; they hold up that noxious bloodied robe as proof of Joseph’s demise. And Jacob, the Grabber, the wily one, is cruelly deceived and imagines his son dead. So, in the biblical story, it is true that what goes around comes around. May it be true for all who lie and deceive, and may we strive always for truth in our dealings with others.