Road to Redemption: Broken People, Faithful God

Bitter rivalry characterized their relationship for their lifetime. Vying for the affections of the same man, they jousted and jostled and jockeyed for favor, for position, for advantage. Motherhood became their ultimate battleground.

The story may have a familiar ring; it has unfolded numerous times with varying details over centuries, on islands, continents, and supercontinents. It happened in a place I knew, with people I knew, playing out over the ‘brief hour’ of three lives, but leaving scars for generations to come.

Brandon’s mother and Pamela’s mother were consumed by hatred for each other. Their intense competition for the affections of the same man often led to violent quarrels and confrontations, punctuated by constant streams of verbal provocations and minor aggressions. In the end, Pamela’s mother, largely aided by the tactical maneuvers of her mother, “won.”

The loss was devastating to Brandon’s mom. Plagued by a lifetime of rejection and abandonment, this very “public” defeat left her humiliated, bitter, and angry. Eventually, she moved on to other relationships, still seeking the love and validation she craved. Although that quest remained unsuccessful, the experience had taught her to bury her vulnerability, and nothing else in the bleak landscape of love and the barrenness of unfulfilled emotions ever again touched her core.

But the full cost of that burial fell squarely on Brandon's young shoulders. Out of the deep recesses of subverted pain and blind confusion, she bludgeoned him with motherhood until his soul was beaten and bruised, battered and bloody.

Brandon's story has a few similar themes to another story you may have heard— one that happened centuries and centuries ago, with massive significance for our world today. It too, had bitter rivalry, emotional rejection, and intense pain. It too, had twisted plots and subplots with long and lasting consequences. It too, featured motherhood as a battleground.

The elements of dysfunction in the story of Leah and Rachel couldn’t be more varied, more far-reaching, and more consequential. Drawn— to a large degree unwittingly—into a saga of lies, manipulation, and deception, they eventually became part of a tangled web of schemes and dreams, clashes and contentions that spilled over from the past, pervaded the present and shaped the future.

A scheming, dishonest father, Laban, and a scheming, dishonest suitor/relative, Jacob, netted a husband to be shared by both Leah and Rachel, and the jealousy and rivalry were just the beginning. Dysfunction, favoritism, and competition would lead to outcomes across years, places and generations.

Conned into marrying Leah, when it was really Rachel he wanted, Jacob took no pains to hide his preference for the younger sister, who “had a lovely figure and was beautiful.” By contrast, there was Leah. Although the term used to describe her appearance is unclear, it is clear that she was unfavorably compared to her sister by Jacob, and perhaps by the physical appearance standards of the day (Genesis 29:17).

The struggle between the two sisters escalated in opposing themes of lovelessness and childlessness. Loveless Leah found consolation in motherhood, staking her hopes and longings for her husband's affection in each birth. Genesis 29 captures the drama in her naming conventions:

Leah became pregnant and gave birth to a son. She named him Reuben, for she said, “It is because the Lord has seen my misery. Surely my husband will love me now” (vs. 32).

She conceived again, and when she gave birth to a son she said, “Because the Lord heard that I am not loved, He gave me this one too.” So she named him Simeon (vs. 33).

Again she conceived, and when she gave birth to a son she said, “Now at last my husband will become attached to me, because I have borne him three sons.” So he was named Levi (vs. 34).

It wasn't until the birth of her fourth son that her perspective finally seemed to shift. She named him Judah as she declared, “This time I will praise the Lord” (vs.35). This would prove to be significant later on. Leah stopped having children for a while, but she would later have two more sons and a daughter.

Meanwhile, Rachel, the loved, remained childless and her disappointed desire to have children turned to full-blown jealousy as she watched her sister's expanding family: When Rachel saw that she was not bearing Jacob any children, she became jealous of her sister. So she said to Jacob, “Give me children, or I’ll die!” Jacob became angry with her and said, “Am I in the place of God, who has kept you from having children?” (Genesis 30:1-2).

Poor Rachel! Poor Leah! But the household dynamics were to become even messier and more complicated. Rachel masterminded a series of surrogate pregnancies through her servant Bilhah. Again, the now full-blown battle was captured in the children's names:

Rachel said, “God has vindicated me; He has listened to my plea and given me a son.” Because of this she named him Dan. Rachel’s servant Bilhah conceived again and bore Jacob a second son. Then Rachel said, “I have had a great struggle with my sister, and I have won.” So she named him Naphtali. (Genesis 30:6-8).

But the exhausting struggle was far from over: When Leah saw that she had stopped having children, she took her servant Zilpah and gave her to Jacob as a wife. Leah’s servant Zilpah bore Jacob a son. Then Leah said, “What good fortune!” So she named him Gad. Leah’s servant Zilpah bore Jacob a second son. Then Leah said, “How happy I am! The women will call me happy.” So she named him Asher (Genesis 30:9-13).

It was at this point after some bizarre wranglings between the two sisters that Leah resumed childbearing and completed her total family count (Genesis 30:14-21). Rachel, also, finally became pregnant: Then God remembered Rachel; He listened to her and enabled her to conceive. She became pregnant and gave birth to a son and said, “God has taken away my disgrace.” She named him Joseph, and said, “May the Lord add to me another son.” (Genesis 30:22-24). (Ironically, she was to die giving birth to Benjamin, that other son for which she prayed.)

Sadly, this was not the end of the dysfunction. The schemes, dishonesty, and manipulation on the part of both Laban and Jacob led to a parting, with a series of events that included subterfuge, hostility, a showdown, and finally an uneasy truce brokered by God Himself (Genesis 30:25-Genesis 31:55).

But the family would continue to be plagued by rivalry, favoritism, and disorder at every level. Unruliness, cruelty, hatred, deceit, and corruption were rife, and the resumes of most of Jacob's twelve sons included vigilante justice, murder, incest, betrayal, deception, and human trafficking.

Yet God was to solidify His plans to build a nation with these twelve as its divisional heads. What's more He was to forge that nation's identity through a series of deliverances that would begin with Rachel's son Joseph, continue through Levi's great grandson Moses, and culminate in a an ultimate redemption plan— not just for the nation, but for all of humanity— through the bloodline of Judah, Leah's son (Matthew 1:1-17, Luke 3:23-38, Revelation 5:5).

Yes, that Judah— whose name "sounds like and may be derived from the Hebrew word for praise" (Biblegateway.com footnote)— that Judah, whose birth marked a pause in rivalry and a shift to praise (Genesis 29:35). It was that Judah, who co-conspired with his brothers to sell their brother Joseph into slavery (Genesis 37:17-36), who consorted with prostitutes, and who impregnated his daughter-in-law (Genesis 38).

But God's road to redemption leads through broken people and sordid details, through imperfect families, through marred mothers, through fallen fathers. Through this long road of hurt, pain, and dysfunction Jesus, Messiah, Saviour of the world came to ultimately restore humanity to wholeness and goodness.

We cannot minimize a history, a legacy or a present reality of pain. Even as we celebrate motherhood, we acknowledge that it holds for many, elements of brokenness, struggle, scars, and wounds. It holds in its vast storehouses, boxes and cartons, parcels and packages of emotional struggle and conflict that cannot be tied up with fancy ribbon, topped with a bow, and sent with a card.

But in Scripture we see a God who always acknowledges pain even as He points the way to redemption. We see a God who works in spite of, and through the injustices and the evils of cultural norms and social ills. We see a Saviour who takes great care to heal, to bind up, to set free.

For Brandon, healing came after many years of struggle. It continues today. He holds no bitterness, though he still bears many scars. He acknowledges the difficult places he came from, but he focuses on the present journey with its very present blessings.

He is grateful that his mother finally found healing in Jesus from all her own trauma, pain, and rejection, and that she found peace at the last. And he is grateful that his father eventually acknowledged his neglect and abdication of his fathering responsibilities, and sought his forgiveness. But in his present counseling and mentorship roles, Brandon understands that not everyone has had even this small measure of "closure."

Brandon now holds several spiritual and secular leadership positions. He and Pamela have established a relationship, and continue to grow in their connection. Their parents and others who fueled the conflict are all gone now, and with them the feud and the rivalry.

These siblings both have families, and are trying to rewrite the script. It would be too easy for the past to intrude. But both actively seek the help of a faithful God who brings healing to broken people— a God who brings redemption to a world, to a family, to a heritage of brokenness and dysfunction.