Noah, Melchizedek, Abraham’s servant, Laban, and Jethro all bless YHWH, but, as Rabbi Pappias notes in the Mekhilta, the Israelites don’t. Only later in the Bible do we find David and Solomon blessing YHWH, but so do Hiram King of Tyre and the Queen of Sheba.
To marry a woman, a man had to first pay her father a מֹהַר (mohar), “bride-price.” Although Laban allows Jacob to marry Rachel before working off his debt, she only has her first child at the end of the seven-year period.
The rabbis translate the phrase ארמי אובד אבי in Deuteronomy 26:5 “an Aramean tried to destroy my father” and understand it as a reference to Laban, who they claim was worse than Pharaoh. But whereas the biblical Laban can be read either sympathetically or unsympathetically, he is hardly a Pharaoh-like villain, so why demonize him?
“When morning came, there was Leah!” (Genesis 29:25). Could Jacob not tell the difference between Rachel, his beloved of seven years, and her sister Leah—for a whole night? Commentators have long tried to make sense of the story by adding extra details, but perhaps we need to rethink the nature of Jacob and Rachel’s relationship during those years.
At the well, the servant asks Rebecca who her father is, and she answers, “I am the daughter of Betuel the son of Milkah, whom she bore to Nahor” (Genesis 24:24). Why the unusual genealogical description?
The Torah offers two explanations for how Jacob obtained great wealth at his father-in-law’s expense. Quite surprisingly, Shakespeare picked up on this narrative tension and made use of it to create the (in)famous biblically based dialogue between Shylock and Antonio in The Merchant of Venice.
