Rachel’s Tears

By Shafer Parker

“A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be comforted, because they are no more.” Matthew 2:18

I have to confess that for many years this verse, stuck as it is in the middle of Matthew’s reportage on the wise men and King Herod’s slaughter of the infants in Bethlehem, left me wondering what the great apostle was thinking. Bible students have long understood that Matthew wrote his gospel, at least in part, to show his Jewish audience the many ways in which Jesus fulfilled Old Testament messianic prophecies. But how do Rachel’s tears fit into this, apart from the fact that all mothers cry when their children die. Really, on the surface it doesn’t even read like a prophecy.

Most of the time even a casual, modern reader can see the connections Matthew makes between events in Jesus’ life and Old Testament prophecy. For instance, when Matthew quotes Isaiah 7:14 and points out that Jesus’ virgin birth was long prophesied (Mat. 1:22-23), most people can instantly see the connection. But to many readers, connecting Herod’s slaughter of the little boys in Bethlehem to Rachel’s lament in Jeremiah 31:15 is a bridge too far. It can feel, and certainly for too long it felt to me, as if Matthew was trying too hard to find fulfilled prophecy.

I could not have been more wrong. Rachel weeping for her children was exactly the right reference to remind knowledgeable Jews of the significance of this historical event in light of Jesus’ fulfilment of messianic prophecy. Once again, what appears at first glance to be a mistake turns out to be yet one more proof that the Bible is a perfect work, and that it reaches a level of perfection not achieved by any other artifact presently to be found on planet Earth.

Once again, what appears at first glance to be a mistake turns out to be yet one more proof that the Bible is a perfect work, and that it reaches a level of perfection not achieved by any other artifact presently to be found on planet Earth.

Before I explain Rachel weeping for her children, let’s remind ourselves of the context in which the reference is found. At the beginning of Matthew 2, wise men from the east arrived asking to see “he who is born king of the Jews.” They claimed to have seen a star signifying such a birth, and now they want to see the infant king. Needless to say, the entire city was troubled by their arrival, but most especially King Herod, whose claim on the throne was entirely dependent upon Roman backing, along with the Jewish “deep state” that had so far colluded with Herod to maintain a balance of power and wealth distinctly tilted in their favour.

A hurried meeting of the Sanhedrin is called, and Herod is informed that Biblical prophecy would put a newborn Jewish king, if such a person even existed, in Bethlehem, some five miles south of Jerusalem (Micah 5:2). Herod, thinking quickly, asks the wise men to find the newborn king and bring him word of his location. Ostensibly Herod wants to worship him too. But the wise men, having found and worshipped the baby Jesus, are warned in a dream not to report anything to Herod, and so they return to their homeland by another route.

Never prone to trust anyone too far, Herod soon smelled a plot. He realized the wise men weren’t coming back and he would have to deal with this new claimant to the throne his way, which was light years away from anything you could call sportsmanship. Herod was already a monstrous murderer, so adding another 10-15 dead children to his record (all the boys under two in Bethlehem) didn’t bother him. But what would have bothered him, had he ever found out, was that his plan failed miserably. In that slaughter he added greatly to his sins, and at the same time failed to achieve his goal. Joseph was warned in a dream what would happen, and even though Herod acted quickly, he was too late. Jesus and his earthly parents were already on their way to Egypt.

This, then, is the story behind today’s inquiry, and the question is, how does Jeremiah’s statement about Rachel weeping for her children serve as a prophecy for it? 

First, let’s deal with Rachel herself. If you’ve read Genesis you probably already know that Rachel was Jacob’s second, and favourite wife. Jacob’s love for Rachel was so much greater that Gen. 29:31 says he “hated” his first wife Leah. However, God stepped in and redressed the imbalance by giving Leah six sons while keeping Rachel barren. Rachel became so frustrated by her childlessness that she cried out to Jacob, “Give me children, or I shall die” (Gen. 30:1). But for a long while no children came. Rachel had to watch as both hers and Leah’s concubines had two children apiece, with each of them adding insult to the injury she so deeply felt. Finally, Rachel gave birth to Joseph, who became Jacob’s favourite son because he came from Jacob’s favourite wife. Later Rachel had a second son, Benjamin. But in delivering him, Rachel died. Thus, a frustrated desire for children will forever be connected with Rachel.

Then a merciful God stepped in to redress the imbalance between Leah’s joy and Rachel’s frustration. Over the next several centuries Joseph and Benjamin would come to represent all of Israel. Joseph, because his sons Ephraim and Manasseh had so many descendants, they came to stand in for all of Israel (the ten northern tribes) in many Bible passages—especially those found in the Psalms and the prophets. Benjamin, on the other hand, came to stand in for the two southern tribes, although the tribe of Judah was much larger. You can see this phenomenon in a single verse if you check out Ps. 80:2, but it also turns up in many other places. It’s ironic, but Rachel, the wife who had the fewest children by far, became known among the 12 tribes as the mother of Israel.

Rachel embodied several contradictions, among them, she who had the fewest children came to stand in as the mother of all Jacob’s descendants.

Rachel embodied several contradictions, among them, she who had the fewest children came to stand in as the mother of all Jacob’s descendants. That ought to have made her happy. But, of course, she could not know how her reputation would fare after her death. She was characteristically seen, then, as grieving, mostly over the children she never had. Thus, Jeremiah let Rachel weep for the nation as it was carried away into exile in 586 B.C.


Thus says the Lord: “A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are no more” (Jer. 31:15)

Why Ramah? Because that was the place where all of Judah was herded together for their trek into exile. And why was Rachel singled out at this point? Because she had undergone a similar experience in her personal life. As she lay dying, she named her second son Ben-oni, son of my sorrow. Only after her death did Jacob change it to Benjamin, son of my right hand. Rachel grieved because she had no idea how important her sons would become, just as all of Judah and Benjamin grieved on their way to Babylonian exile, never thinking they and their children would return in triumph some 70 years later, just as God had promised.

Just to be clear, let me say it another way. Rachel grieved over her lack of children because she feared that the Messianic line would die out, or that her children would play no part in it. Centuries later (nearly a thousand years later) Jeremiah recorded that all of Judah grieved because they feared the Messianic line would be endangered again by their Babylonian exile. Their grief was so much like Rachel’s that in his prophecy Jeremiah let hers stand in for the sorrow he observed firsthand. 

Matthew saw the same phenomenon when Herod killed all the baby boys in Bethlehem. There was great sorrow and frustration once Herod’s soldiers had done their dirty work. And for those in the know, the death of those male children could have looked like the death of Israel’s Messianic hope. Certainly, had the wise men received word of Herod’s rampage without knowing of Jesus’ escape, they might have lost all hope. No wonder, then, that Matthew would seize upon Rachel’s lamentation as a prophecy of the sorrow that engulfed Bethlehem when all the little boys were slaughtered. Proof that Matthew was right to do so is found in Jeremiah 31:16 and 17, the two verses that follow immediately after Rachel’s tears are recorded. 

Thus says the Lord: “keep your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears, for there is a reward for your work, declares the Lord, and they shall come back from the land of the enemy. There is hope for your future, declares the Lord, and your children shall come back to their own country” (Jer. 31:16-17).

These are words of hope. Admittedly, these words were first uttered to give God’s people a hope that their exile would end, and they would come back to the promised land. But why could not the whole prophecy apply to the families of Bethlehem, to give them a hope that their children had not died in vain and that through Messiah Jesus there would someday be a grand eternal reunion. Now there’s a Merry Christmas for you, even if it is bathed in blood.

Exit question: If God has proved Himself faithful over the centuries, showing faithfulness to his people through times of exile and slaughter, on what basis can we excuse ourselves if our hope becomes weak in these times of forced isolation and closed churches?