Dealing with a Narcissist

Genesis 30:25–31:55 - WATCH THE SERMON

We’ve all been there at one time or another. You feel trapped in a relationship—a friendship, a job, a volunteer role, maybe a family dynamic—that slowly drains the life out of you. Every conversation feels like a battlefield. Facts twist. Blame shifts. Your sanity hangs by a thread. You’ve tried patience. You’ve tried reasoning. Nothing changes.

And sooner or later, the question comes:
How much more can I take?

In our modern vocabulary, we call this dealing with a narcissist—a person consumed by self, blind to the pain of others. But long before psychology labeled it, the Bible dealt with it directly.

Genesis 30–31 centers on Jacob, the son of Isaac and grandson of Abraham. At Bethel, God promised Jacob His presence, prosperity, and a future nation. Those who blessed Jacob would be blessed. Jacob then travels to Paddan-aram, meets Rachel, falls deeply in love—and meets her father, Laban.

Laban is one of the most difficult characters in the Old Testament. Through him, Jacob is forced to confront the grotesque nature of his own sin—up close and personal. If you’ve lived long enough, you’ve probably noticed this: the things we despise most in others often mirror what we hate most about ourselves.

Biblically speaking, Laban is a carnal-minded, pride-filled idolater. A modern psychologist would say he’s a textbook narcissist.

In Greek mythology, Narcissus was a man of extraordinary beauty who rejected everyone who loved him. As punishment, the gods caused him to fall in love with his own reflection. Unable to look away, he wasted away and died.

Clinical psychology later borrowed his name.

According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, narcissism involves a pervasive pattern of:

• Grandiosity
• Exploitation
• Lack of empathy
• Entitlement
• Manipulation
• Hypersensitivity to loss of control

At its core, narcissism feeds on the pain of others. Have you ever met someone who seemed to need your bad day in order to have a good one?

In Greek Mythology, Narcissus was a young man of extraordinary beauty, yet he despised and rejected others, including the beautiful Echo. As punishment, the gods caused him to fall in love with his own reflection in a pool of water. Unable to possess or look away from himself, he wasted away and died.

Clinical Psychologists have used his name to describe a personality disorder that has equal pull on every single individual. That must be resisted, repented of, and redeemed by the blood of Christ.

The text before us doesn’t just diagnose the problem—it shows us how to respond.

By Genesis 30:25, Jacob has served Laban for fourteen years. He approaches him respectfully, man to man, and asks to leave peaceably. Laban responds with manipulation. Jacob doesn’t explode. He doesn’t demand justice. He waits. He secures his household. He plans carefully. Do not confront a narcissist until you are secure enough to survive the consequences.

Narcissists retaliate when exposed. Jacob understands this intuitively. A premature confrontation would have led to ruin or violence. Scripture says, “Good sense makes one slow to anger” (Prov. 19:11). Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is pray, wait, and let God work behind the scenes.

God blesses Jacob exactly as He promised—despite Laban’s schemes. Jacob doesn’t argue his way to justice. He lets God do the vindicating.


Narcissists don’t concede when confronted with facts. They escalate. Jacob avoids that trap by trusting God to settle accounts.

Genesis 31 shows us three indicators that the season has ended.

Jacob hears Laban’s sons turning hostile. He sees Laban’s countenance change. Here’s a word of wisdom: If you want to know what someone really thinks, watch their children.

God speaks clearly: “Return to the land of your fathers.” Be careful with “God told me,” but understand this—sometimes God makes His will unmistakable.

Jacob brings the matter to Rachel and Leah. They confirm his discernment.

There is safety in a multitude of counselors. If even a narcissist’s own children agree something is wrong, it probably is.

Notice the language: Jacob doesn’t set boundaries. He enacts them. He doesn’t negotiate reform. He leaves. Boundaries cannot be negotiated with narcissists. They must be enacted. When Laban pursues Jacob, he gaslights him—rewriting history, shifting blame, playing the victim. Scripture shows us this tactic clearly. And yet, Laban is restrained—not by reason, but by God.

Rachel steals Laban’s household gods. The root problem—idolatry—travels with Jacob’s family. Scripture repeatedly warns us: when confronting the sins of others, watch yourself. The same sin you oppose can attach itself to you. The root of narcissism is idolatry. If you want freedom from narcissism, attack the idol.

In the end, Jacob and Laban erect a boundary marker. They can’t even agree on what to call it. What was once metaphorical becomes physical. Sometimes wisdom demands distance. As someone once said, “There are some people—if they don’t already know it—you can’t tell them.”

In the 16th century, Scottish pastor John Knox stood before Mary, Queen of Scots—brilliant, manipulative, and accustomed to control. She wept. She threatened. She accused. Finally she said, “I fear the prayers of John Knox more than the armies of England.”

Why? Because Knox didn’t need her approval. He wasn’t rude. He wasn’t cruel. He was free. He had already bowed his knee to Christ—so no one else could rule him.

There comes a time when you must say:


Jacob simply stopped standing where Laban could keep hurting him. Sometimes, for the good to begin, the bad must end. And sometimes the boundary you need most isn’t with another person—but with the idol of self.

Until Christ sits on the throne of your heart, someone else will try to.