And Reuben went out in the days of wheat-harvest, and found mandrakes in the fields; and he brought them to his mother Leah. And Rachel said to Leah, Give me, I pray thee, of thy son's mandrakes.
Reuben's find in the wheat field leads to one of the strangest bargains in the Bible: a wife trading a night with her own husband for a handful of plants. What were these mandrakes, why did Rachel want them so badly, and why does God leave such a scene in the record of the family that became Israel?
The Hebrew word behind "mandrakes" is dudaim. Nobody can say for sure which plant it was.
dudaim. Some strong-smelling plant found in the fields of Palestine. Writers have suggested many different herbs. It is possibly the Mandragora officinarum, called the "love apple," a relative of the "apple of Sodom." Genesis 30:14-16; Song of Solomon 7:13.
Both women were reaching for something they had not managed to get any other way. Leah saw at once why her sister wanted the plants.
So we look for human support, and we try to make ourselves happy as we are, without reaching the state we want. But Leah is not satisfied with this. As soon as Reuben brings her mandrakes, she sees the chance of having another son. Rachel tried to get some for the same purpose, but Leah answered her sharply (v. 15). She knew Rachel's purpose. So neither of them was actually content: the struggle continues.
Both sisters treated the mandrakes as if the plants held power to give children. One writer says plainly what that trust was worth.
No veil covers their deplorable unbelief and mean jealousy. Nothing excuses their superstitious trust in the power of love-apples. In this they were just like other Syrian women, who gave themselves to the empty practices of the nations. Clearly Rachel gained nothing from the child Reuben's discovery. But God pitied Leah, who longed to share her husband's affection. She bore him a fifth son and a sixth, besides a daughter.
The one who bought the mandrakes stayed barren. The one who sold them received children. The plant did nothing; God gave the children.
Measured against Abraham and Isaac, this household has slipped a long way down. And the one bright spot in it is not the plant.
How dreadfully everything has sunk morally from Abraham's time, and even Isaac's. This is not barrenness of the flesh, met by God stepping in with promise and power. Instead, oh, what a scene of selfishness, jealousy and craft! Only one green spot is in it — Rachel, the barren one, is heard. All the rest is miserable and merely flesh, and God sends nothing but rightful chastening and discipline. And how that has marked the race ever since! Yet God has blessed and will bless.
These small, ugly scenes do two things at once.
They show us, to the life, the humbling history of the man who fathered a people God chose to be His own possession on the earth, despite these petty ways. They also let us into the secret of that grace in God which rose above all that was detestable beyond measure to His nature in light and love. That grace even looked on to Him who was to come from this very family — the Christ who is over all, God blessed forever.
And God does more than rise above the mess. He turns it toward His own end.
Every wrong has its effect among men and its judgment before Him. Yet God alone has the right to cause all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to His purpose. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn.
- Plant. Dudaim is a strong-smelling field plant, possibly the "love apple." The Bible names it and never explains it, and careful writers leave the question open.
- Want. Nothing satisfied either sister — not servants, not sons, not a husband's affection. So the struggle went on.
- Bargain. Rachel asks for the plants. Leah knows exactly why, and answers her sharply.
- Failure. Rachel gained nothing from the mandrakes. Her trust matched the empty practices of the nations around her. God gave children to the sister who handed the plants over.
- Grace. The Bible hides none of the jealousy. That is how we see the grace that chose this family, and brought Christ from it, rising above everything in them.
And she said to her, Is it [too] little that thou hast taken my husband, that thou wilt take my son's mandrakes also? And Rachel said, Therefore he shall lie with thee to-night for thy son's mandrakes.
Two sisters, married to the same man, are bargaining, and the price is a night with their husband. Leah answers with an old grievance over a stolen husband, and Rachel offers the night as payment.
The bitterness here starts further back than the mandrakes. One writer traces it to the same source as the trouble in other homes where a man took more than one wife.
Marriage was set up at the start to give a man one companion only. Plural marriages appear never to have worked well in practice. Look at the humiliating discord in Abraham's family over the servant Hagar, and in Jacob's family, the bitter jealousies between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah.
Scripture softens nothing here. The mandrakes were prized plants — "love-apples" — that both sisters linked with having a child.
Scripture draws no veil over their shameful unbelief and mean jealousy. It makes no excuse for their superstitious trust in the power of love-apples, just like other Syrian women who gave themselves only to the empty things of the pagan nations. Rachel clearly gained nothing by what the boy Reuben found. But God pitied Leah, who longed to share her husband's affection, and she bore him a fifth son and a sixth, and a daughter as well.
Notice the outcome. Rachel paid for the plants and gained nothing by them. Leah bore more children, and the reason given is God's pity, not the mandrakes.
Leah's sharp answer is not the reaction of a woman at peace. She had never had a full share of her husband's affection, and now the plants were being asked for too.
As soon as Reuben brings her mandrakes, she sees the possibility of having another son. Rachel tried to get some for the same reason, but Leah answered her sharply (v. 15). She knew what Rachel was after. So neither of them was content: the struggle continues.
The thing fought over is small. One writer pictures envy at exactly that scale, then names the damage it does.
We are like a child in a nursery who pouts and frets because the other child has an apple a size larger than his own. And the child holding the big apple was the naughty one! Oh, what mischief can envy work in the heart of a believer! And what misery too it can produce, and what sin!
Rachel's offer sets a price on Jacob. The word "hire" then turns up in the name of the son who follows, and the bargain still falls short.
Mandrakes were clearly a cherished delicacy, and Jacob let himself be persuaded to share his bed with Leah that night. His natural appetite leads him, and Leah bears another son, Issachar, meaning "he will be hired." Then she has a sixth son of her own, named Zebulun, which means "dwelling." These six are all the sons Leah herself bore. This pictures how people can struggle hard to reach their own ends but always come short. Seven is the number of completeness, while six is the number of man's working week.
The names Leah chose show where her heart was.
But how strangely low Leah's state was in seeing Issachar as her wages from God, because she had given her servant to Jacob! And in naming Zebulun she was clinging to the hope that her husband's love would now last.
Why record a squabble like this at all? Because the family being described here is the family the nation of Israel came from — and the family the Christ came from.
They show us, true to life, the humbling history of the ancestor of a people God chose to be His own possession on the earth, despite these petty ways. They also let us into the secret of God's grace. That grace rose above everything His nature of light and love found beyond measure detestable. It even looked ahead to the One who would come from this very family — the Christ who is over all, God blessed for ever, as truly God as His Father.
- Root. The rivalry is the fruit of a marriage God never designed; plural marriages "appear never to have worked well in practice."
- Rivalry. Leah's sharp answer exposes a home where neither woman was content — "the struggle continues."
- Bargain. Rachel trades a night with her husband for a delicacy, and the son who follows carries the name "he will be hired."
- Shortfall. People "struggle hard to reach their own ends but always come short" — Leah reaches six, never seven.
- Grace. Scripture excuses nothing, yet God's grace rose above it all, and out of this very family came the Christ.
And when Jacob came from the fields in the evening, Leah went out to meet him, and said, Thou must come in to me, for indeed I have hired thee with my son's mandrakes. And he lay with her that night.
Leah meets Jacob at the end of the day and tells him she has bought his company for the night, with a plant her son found in the field. Two sisters had traded it between them, so what is God doing in a home run by jealousy and trade?
The word behind "mandrakes" names a plant that grew wild in the fields. No one has ever pinned down which plant it was.
Dudaim: a strong-smelling plant found in the fields of Palestine. Writers have suggested many different herbs. It may be the Mandragora officinarum, called the 'love apple,' a relative of the 'apple of Sodom.' The Atropa mandragora is another species. Gen. 30:14-16; Song 7:13.
Both women treated this plant as if it held power to give children. One writer traces that trust back to the customs around them, and says Rachel gained nothing by it:
Nothing covers up their sad unbelief and petty jealousy, and nothing excuses their superstitious trust in the power of love-apples. In this they were just like other Syrian women, who lived only for the empty things the nations around them valued. Rachel clearly gained nothing by the child Reuben's discovery. But God pitied Leah, who wanted to share her husband's affection, and she bore him a fifth son and a sixth, besides a daughter. Yet how strangely low Leah's state was: she counted Issachar her wages from God because she had given her servant to Jacob, and she named Zebulun out of her fond hope that her husband's love would last.
Leah's own word for the night becomes the name of the child born from it. Jacob went along with it.
Mandrakes were clearly a prized delicacy, and Jacob agreed to share Leah's bed that night. His natural appetite leads him, and Leah bears another son, Issachar, meaning "he will be hired." Then she has a sixth son of her own, named Zebulun, which means "dwelling." These six are all the sons that Leah herself bore. This pictures how people can struggle hard to reach their own ends and still come short, for seven is the number of completeness, while six is the number of man's working week.
Jacob had two wives, and the friction here traces back to that. One writer names the other homes where the same arrangement bred trouble:
Marriage was set up at the start to give a man one companion only. Marriage to more than one wife never seems to have worked well in practice. Look at the shameful discord in Abraham's family over Hagar, the lesser wife, and in Jacob's family, the bitter jealousies between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah.
Each sister got what she bargained for. One writer follows what each one was really after.
Leah is not satisfied with this. For as soon as Reuben brings her mandrakes she sees the possibility of having another son. Rachel tried to get some for the same reason, but Leah answered her sharply (v.15). Leah knew what Rachel was after. So neither of them was really content: the struggle goes on.
Nothing here is hidden. One writer measures this household against the days of Abraham and Isaac.
How terribly everything has sunk in moral terms from Abraham's time, and even Isaac's. This is no longer natural barrenness, with God stepping in by promise and power. Instead — oh, what a scene of selfishness, jealousy and scheming! Only one spot of green is in it — Rachel, the barren one, is heard. All the rest is misery and mere flesh, only fair correction and discipline from God. And how that has marked the race ever since! Yet God has blessed and will bless.
Commentators differ in emphasis. Some read the chapter as discipline on a family far from God. Others stress the pity God showed the unloved wife.
- Bargain. Leah bought a night with her husband using her son's mandrakes. The plant grew wild in the fields. People prized it as a delicacy and trusted it with a power it never had.
- Hire. The word she used priced the whole transaction, and it stuck: the son born of that night is Issachar, "he will be hired."
- Rivalry. Marriage began with one companion for one man. Where people set that aside — in Abraham's house and in Jacob's — jealousy followed.
- Restlessness. Rachel got the mandrakes and Leah got the night. Neither ended up content, and the struggle carried on into the next child.
- Grace. The record hides none of the selfishness and scheming. Yet in that same scene God pitied the unloved wife and heard the barren one, and He has blessed and will bless.
And God hearkened to Leah, and she conceived, and bore Jacob a fifth son.
Two sisters are bargaining over one husband: Rachel trades a night with Jacob for the mandrake plants that Leah's son found. The verse makes a striking claim about all of it: the son came because God listened.
The mandrake bargain looks like the cause of the birth. But Rachel, who paid, got nothing, while Leah, who sold, conceived. One writer notes that the record covers up nothing:
Nothing hides their sad unbelief and mean jealousy. Nothing excuses their superstitious trust in the power of love-apples. They were just like other Syrian women, given over to the empty practices of the nations. Rachel gained nothing from the child Reuben's discovery. But God pitied Leah, who was seeking to share her husband's affection, and she bore him now a fifth son and a sixth, besides a daughter.
The verse says God listened. It does not say the LORD listened. One writer sees how far this family has fallen, and reads Rachel's heart in the name she uses for God:
How far everything has sunk morally from Abraham's day, and even Isaac's! What a scene of selfishness, jealousies, and craft. So Rachel here, even in her special circumstances, has no thought of the LORD's ways; it is "God has judged me," and so it goes all through, until her heart is softened by grace; then she says, in faith, "The LORD will add."
The son born here is named in the next verse from the word for wages. Leah counts her child as payment owed her — and the counting never adds up:
Mandrakes must have been a cherished delicacy, and Jacob let himself be persuaded to share his bed with Leah that night. His natural appetite leads him. Leah bears another son, Issachar, which means "he will be hired." Then Leah has a sixth son of her own, named Zebulon, which means "dwelling." These six are all the sons that Leah herself bore. This pictures how people can struggle hard to reach their own ends and always come short. Seven is the number of completeness, while six is the number of man's working week.
Leah's own reason for the name shows how low her thinking has sunk:
How strangely low Leah's state is! She counts Issachar as her hire from God because she gave her servant to Jacob.
Nothing in this household is admirable. Yet one writer will not let the wrong have the last word:
Every wrong has its effect among men, and its judgment before Himself. But it belongs to God alone to make all things work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose. He at least is good and does good, whatever man has to mourn over.
Issachar's name outlived Leah's bargain. One writer traces what the tribe became, and hears the meaning of the name in it:
In Issachar we find Israel content to be the drudge of the nations. Israel would not bear God's yoke, yet took the yoke of men without a struggle. Here too the name is dwelt on: "there is reward." Ease and gain are all that Israel looks for.
The same writer turns this on the reader. A son named "hire" raises the question of whether we deal with God for wages at all:
The prince of Issachar is Nethanel, whose name means "the gift of God." It suits a man whose own name speaks of hire, who bends his shoulder to foreign yokes and pays his tribute out of love of ease. God may hire a Nebuchadnezzar. But the bread in our Father's house is not for hired servants, even though in the far country one might think so. The hireling spirit in God's own people would turn His grace into legal payment. A true overcomer is this Nethanel, who has learned that the "gift of God" cannot be bought. The family line says the same thing simply: Nethanel is the son of Zuar, which means "Little." The one who thinks of hire is bound to value himself too highly. The one who counts himself really "little" is ready to value the gift of God.
- Listened. The son came because God heard Leah. No bargain and no plant produced him; Rachel bought the mandrakes and gained nothing by them.
- Pitied. One writer names God's motive: He pitied Leah, who was seeking her husband's affection. He answered her sorrow, not her scheming.
- Named. Leah reads the gift as wages owed her, so "hire" is the name she hangs on the child. Her six sons stop short of the seven of completeness.
- Overruled. Every wrong still carries its consequence. Yet God alone can make all things work together for good, and He does it in this jealous household.
- Inherited. The hireling thought outlasts Leah in a tribe that takes the yoke of men for ease and gain. The cure is to count yourself little and take God's gift as a gift.
And Leah said, God has given me my hire, because I have given my maidservant to my husband; and she called his name Issachar.
Leah trades her son's mandrakes for a night with Jacob, and a fifth son follows. She reads the birth as payment for handing her servant to Jacob. The name she gives him raises the question the whole scene presses on us: does God pay wages to those who scheme, or does He give?
The name itself carries the idea of payment. One writer gives its meaning, then links Leah's six sons to a number that falls short.
Mandrakes were clearly a cherished delicacy, and Jacob was persuaded to share his bed with Leah that night. His natural appetite leads him, and Leah bears another son, Issachar, meaning "he will be hired." A sixth son follows for Leah herself, Zebulun, which means "dwelling." These six are all the sons that Leah herself bore. This pictures how people can struggle hard to reach their own ends, but always come short. Seven is the number of completeness, while six is the number of man's working week.
Leah does credit God with this birth. One writer still calls her thinking low, and points instead to God's pity for a wife who wanted her husband's love.
Rachel clearly gained nothing by the child Reuben's discovery. But God pitied Leah, who wanted a share in her husband's affection, and she bore him a fifth son and a sixth, besides a daughter. Yet how strangely low Leah's state was, in treating Issachar as her hire from God because she gave her servant to Jacob.
The record of these lives is not flattering. The same writer finds two lessons in that.
These records show us, true to life, the humbling history of the ancestor of a people. God chose that people to be His own possession on the earth, despite these petty ways. They also let us into the secret of God's grace. That grace rose above everything His nature, in light and love, found detestable beyond measure. It even looked on to Him who was to come from this very family.
Leah's instinct did not die with her. Another writer finds the same hireling spirit among God's own people, and traces it to self.
The spirit of legality takes up such strange service willingly, since it is self that it really serves, and a bribe will turn it from its true Master. The hireling spirit in the people of God themselves would turn His grace into legal payment... The one who thinks of hire always values himself too highly. The one who counts himself as really "little" is ready to appreciate the gift of God.
Commentators read the name two ways: hire, and reward. Another writer takes the second sense, and marks where the chance to earn reward ends.
Issachar means "there is reward." Believers at the judgment seat of Christ will receive reward for what they have done for the Lord (2 Cor. 5:10), so this tribe appears to stress what our outward works should be, not just our inward character. Again, its borders are not clearly marked, as though showing that we should not limit our good works. We are to do them for all people, especially those of the household of faith (Gal. 6:10). The east border, however, was the Jordan River. It reminds us that death will end any chance to earn reward for good work done.
The name proved prophetic in two directions — one warning, one hopeful.
When Jacob blessed his sons he said, "Issachar is a strong donkey, crouching between the sheepfolds... he bowed his shoulder to bear, and became a servant at forced labour" (Gen. 49:14-15). This seems to imply that this tribe, with Zebulun, would mix with the world and become slaves to it for profit... Some of Issachar came to David at Ziklag, of whom it is said they "had understanding of the times, to know what Israel ought to do" (1 Chr. 12:32).
- Hire. Leah names her son from the idea of payment — "he will be hired" — treating a son as wages owed for giving her servant to Jacob.
- Low. One writer calls her state strangely low: she treats a son as her hire from God rather than as His pity.
- Grace. God pitied Leah. The record hides none of the scheming, and shows grace rising above it, right down to the One who was to come from this family.
- Gift. The hireling spirit rates self too highly. The one who counts himself little is ready to receive the gift of God.
- Reward. The name has a truer sense: real reward for work done for the Lord. The Jordan marks the boundary — death ends the chance to earn it.