Bible Commentary

24:66-67 — Then the servant told Isaac all he had done. Isaac brought her into the tent of his mother Sarah, and he married Rebekah. So she became his wife, and he loved her; and Isaac was comforted after his mother's death.

The innocent note about Isaac bringing Rebekah "into the tent of his mother Sarah" is easy to overlook but it packs a great deal of significance for understanding Isaac as a person and insights into explaining how his marriage worked out. Let us look at some of the salient facts.

First, according to 17:17, Isaac was born when Sarah was ninety. Sarah died at an age of 127 (23:1); Isaac was, therefore, 37 at the time of his mother's death. He was 40 at the time he married Rebekah (25:20).1 That means that mother Sarah had been dead a good three years when Isaac brought his new wife "into the tent of his mother Sarah."

Second, was the matter of the tents. The ancient custom among wandering herdsmen—whether as a matter of custom or security—required a certain amount of segregation of the men and women. Abraham and Sarah, though married, e.g., lived in separate tents (compare Gen 18:1 and 18:6)2 At marriage, the groom would normally bring her to his tent. Instead, Isaac brought his new wife to his mother's tent!

These two observations raises serious questions about Isaac's emotional-psychological health. When a loved one dies, one naturally grieves and mourns for her. An emotionally healty and psychologically balanced person would soon resolve over a few months that grief. The dead mother's things, save a few momentoes, would be gotten rid of. Isaac, being born so late in her mother's life, would naturally have had an exceptionally close relationship with the mother. That said, it remains disturbing, to say the least, that three years after his mother had passed away Isaac had not only kept his mother's tent, he had it pitched still, and now he brings his new wife to dwell in it. One can only imagine the ghost of dead mother Sarah hovering over them—"Why do you cook the porridge that way? Mother Sarah always did it like this." "O, don't cut the meat like that; Mother Sarah said this is the proper way to do it"—and the disastrous impact on their marriage that such ghosts always have.

We need not doubt that Isaac love Rebekah as the text says. The concluding note to this story, "so Isaac was comforted after his mother's death" adds additional support to our observation about Isaac's emotional-psychological health; he had simply substituted the love of his wife for his unresolved need of coming to terms with the loss of his mother.

It is particularly strange that the author of Genesis should retained for us this intimate peek into Isaac's life. Scripture is always parsimonious; it does not waste words. So what purpose could such a detail serve? It certainly is not mean to make the narrative more interesting or lively, since most readers pass over and misses it. Could it be a reminder to us that, like Isaac's love for Rebekah, we can also easily displace our legitimate loves with long Dead Mother Sarah's which ought to have been resolved and packed away? What are the Dead Mother Sarah's displacing the affections in our hearts that ought properly to be reserved for others, like our wife or children? How many pastors and ministers immerse themselves in God's work simply because that opens an excuse for staying away from an unhappy home? What Dead Mother Sarah's are displacing out first love for God?

What Dead Mother Sarah's haunt our life?
What legitimate loves do they displace?

What Dead Mother Sarah sits in our life
where God should?