Leah's Tears

Parashat Vayetse, Genesis 28:10-32:3

Rabbi Isaac S. Roussel, Congregation Zera Avraham, Ann Arbor, MI

The story of Leah, found in this week's parasha, is a profound narrative of unrequited love, longing, and ultimately, acceptance. Leah's role in the tumultuous family of Ya'akov is often overshadowed by her sister Rachel, whose beauty and favored status captivated Ya'akov's heart. Yet Leah's journey, as reflected in the names she gives her children, offers a timeless lesson in embracing life's adversities and finding contentment within our circumstances.

Leah's first three sons are named Reuven, Shimon, and Levi, and each name reveals her inner struggle and yearning for love. Reuven, whose name means "see, a son," reflects Leah's hope that Ya'akov would finally see her, notice her value, and love her for giving him a son. Shimon, meaning "heard," speaks to Leah's longing for God to hear her pain as she continues to feel unloved. Levi, meaning "attached," shows her desire for connection—a deep wish that bearing children would forge a bond between herself and Ya'akov.

A shift takes place, however, when Leah names her fourth son Yehudah. The name Yehudah means "praise," and in this moment, Leah's focus turns from her unfulfilled desire for her husband's love to gratitude toward God. Despite her continued lack of favor in Ya'akov's eyes, Leah finds a new sense of acceptance. She chooses to praise God for what she has, rather than lament what she lacks. This is a pivotal moment—it marks Leah's transformation from a woman defined by longing to a woman empowered by acceptance and gratitude.

This theme of contentment continues with Leah's handmaid, Zilpah, who bears two sons named Gad and Asher. Gad, meaning "good fortune," and Asher, meaning "happy" or "blessed," reflect a sense of joy and appreciation for life, even within the context of rivalry and adversity. Through Zilpah, Leah expresses a sense of fulfillment and abundance that goes beyond the competition for Ya'akov's affection. It is as if Leah has found a way to be content, to recognize the blessings she has received, and to embrace joy regardless of her circumstances.

Leah's journey resonates with many of us today. We often encounter situations in life where our deepest desires go unmet, where the love or recognition we long for seems out of reach. Leah teaches us that while we may not be able to control how others feel about us, we can choose how we respond to adversity. By naming her son Yehudah, Leah demonstrates a powerful act of letting go—of releasing her expectations and instead finding reason to give praise. This act of praise is not born out of her circumstances changing, but rather out of her own inner transformation.

This resonates with Rav Shaul's teaching in his letter to the community in Philippi, "I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I find myself. . . . I am able to do all things through him who strengthens me" (Phil 4:11-13).

There is a midrash that speaks to the role of Rachel, Leah's sister, in Jewish history. It tells us that Rachel was buried on the road, outside the land of Israel, so that she could cry for her children as they went into exile. Rachel's tears are for the children who are lost, displaced, and yearning for home. Leah, too, can be seen as a figure of tears—not for the exiled, but for those who are unwanted, ignored, or who suffer from feeling unloved. Leah's tears speak to the pain of unfulfilled desires, but her journey also speaks to the strength that comes from embracing what we do have, even when life does not meet our expectations.

This mirrors Yeshua's work while here on Earth where he lived out the Torah's mandate to care for those who are marginalized, unloved, or overlooked.

Leah's tears find an echo in Yeshua's own words of despair, "Eli Eli lama sabachthani"—"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Even in his anguish, Yeshua ends with acceptance, "Into your hands I commit my spirit." This profound moment parallels Leah's journey of moving from despair to acceptance, finding solace in her faith despite adversity.

Rabbi Jill Hammer teaches in her book, Omer Calendar for Biblical Women, that kabbalah tells us:

Leah represents the upper mother, Binah, the divine womb from which life and understanding flow. She represents malkhut shebegevurah, majesty within strength, because in spite of the painful reality of living with a jealous sister and a man who does not love her, Leah finds the dignity of praise and gratitude. We are most like Leah when we are able to live not only for those we want to love us, but for ourselves and for God.

I have personally experienced a journey similar to Leah's. Six years ago, I was laid off from a job I had held for twenty years—a job I loved deeply. To remain near my family and congregation, I accepted a new position that was far from ideal, mismatched to my skills and experience. For years, I struggled with the loss of my former role and the challenges of the new one. Only in the last year have I been able to let go of what was and embrace what is. I have found joy and blessing not only in my current circumstances but also in what I have learned and how I have grown through that dark period. As with Leah, these events can either break us or help us grow stronger and draw closer to Hashem.

In our own lives, we may find ourselves like Leah, striving for something—recognition, love, success—only to face repeated disappointments. Leah's story encourages us to shift our perspective, to let go of the insistence on what we think should happen, and instead to open our hearts to the blessings that are already present. Like Leah, we may come to see that even in the midst of adversity, there is reason to give praise. And like Leah, we can transform our tears from those of longing into those of gratitude, finding peace in what we have rather than in what we lack.

May we all be able to move from Reuven to Yehudah, Gad, and Asher.

May we all seek to move from angst and turmoil to a place of genuine peace, where we can praise with true happiness and recognize the blessings in our lives.

May we all learn from Leah's journey, finding strength in our struggles and learning to praise, even when life unfolds differently than we had hoped. Her story reminds us that true contentment is not found in the fulfillment of every desire, but in the ability to see the goodness already around us, and to find joy in our journey.

Russ Resnik