The Gate of Heaven (30 page)

For a long time Jacob prayed, but the fear was still with him. “I've got to do something,” he groaned, and getting to his feet, he went back to the camp. He found everyone in a state of confusion, and his eyes fell on Reuben. “Reuben,” he called.

Reuben came at once, his face twisted with troubling thoughts. “Yes, Father?”

“I want you to select some of the finest of the cattle—the goats, the ewes, the camels, everything—and I want you to send them by faithful servants.”

“Send them where, Father?”

“Send them to meet my brother, Esau. And when they meet him and he asks, ‘To whom do you belong, and where are you going, and who owns all these animals in front of you?' then they are to say, ‘They belong to your servant Jacob. They are a gift sent to my lord Esau, and he is coming behind us.'”

“Yes, of course.”

Reuben left at once, and Jacob lifted his voice. “We will pass over the brook tonight and camp on the other side.”

Confusion followed, but Jacob was adamant. When all of the servants had gathered up that which they had packed and were ready to go, the moon was already high in the sky.

Reuben came and said, “The servants have taken the gifts and gone to meet your brother.”

“Reuben, I want you to take everyone across the brook and camp on the other side tonight.”

It never occurred to Reuben to question his father's orders. “Yes, sir,” he said and turned at once. He lifted his voice, and Jacob watched as the caravan pulled itself into order. He stood beside the brook and watched them as Reuben led them forward.

Rachel came to Jacob and asked, “Aren't you coming with us?”

“No. I will stay on this side tonight.”

Rachel felt a sudden fear. “What are you going to do?”

“I don't know, but I must be alone tonight. Now go.”

The caravan lumbered forward slowly, and Jacob watched as they splashed across the brook Jabbok. He heard the voices of the drivers as they herded the cattle under the moonlight, and he did not move until the last one was across. Even then he stood there until the sounds of their passage faded completely from his ear.

And then Jacob, the son of Isaac, the grandson of Abraham, looked around. He was completely alone now, and the silence bore down upon him. He did not know why he had done this, but as he walked slowly away from the brook Jabbok, he felt that his heart would break. The memory of his past treatment of his brother had been with him, pressing against him for a long time, and now it was as if it had happened only yesterday. Guilt sliced through him like a razor, and alone under the stars, he began to weep.

From somewhere far off came the plaintive howl of a wild desert dog. Jacob had been sitting with his knees drawn up under him, his face pressed against them, listening to the sound that struck him as sad and plaintive and savage. He looked out but could see nothing.

“Oh, God, how can I get rid of this burden—this guilt that I've carried for so many years?” he cried aloud. He came to his feet painfully, looked up, and saw the stars twinkling and glittering high above. Many of the people he knew worshiped the stars, the sun, or the moon, but Jacob had gained a wisdom far beyond that. He knew that those worlds, strange and alien, had been created by
someone,
and it was that Someone he cried out to now.

He walked back and forth wringing his hands and, from time to time, falling on his face, beating his fists against the earth. More than once he had to restrain the desire to simply run blindly away, but he knew he could not do that. Finally he walked to the small stream and stared across it. The moonlight threw its silver beams on the water, which winked at him as it flowed over the stones. The water curled at his feet, whispering as if it had a voice of its own. Jacob turned from the stream, preoccupied and consumed with his thoughts, but then he halted abruptly, and his eyes opened wide.

Outlined by the silver moonlight, a man stood before him!

Fear ran through Jacob.
Who could be out at this time of night in this lonely desert place?

The man stood not ten feet away, and his features were clear in the silvery light. He was neither old nor young. He wore a light-colored robe, and as well as Jacob could tell, his hair was a light brown. There was strength in his face, and Jacob's first thought was one of fear.
This might be a robber or someone who could kill me!

But the eyes of the stranger held no threat, and he had the countenance of one whom Jacob could trust. He could not make out the man's nationality or much else about him, and finally Jacob said, “You're alone in this place.”

“Yes, except for you.”

Jacob waited for the stranger to speak again, but he made no further comment. “And might I know your name?” Jacob asked.

The man answered, “I have been called by many names.”

Jacob hardly knew what to say to that. He was troubled by the appearance of the man in this place and said so. “I'm surprised to see anyone in such a lonely place as this. Might I ask what you are doing out here this time of night?”

“You are troubled, Jacob, son of Isaac.”

Jacob gasped. “How did you know my name—and my father's name?”

The man approached, and Jacob resisted the impulse to flee. There was nothing threatening in the man. Jacob sensed an immense wisdom lying behind those eyes that were fixed upon him. He was not a large, bulky being, such as his son Reuben, but still Jacob sensed immense power and knew that it was not the power of pure muscle.

“Why are you here by yourself? Why have you left your family and your goods?”

Jacob was so stunned he could not answer. He opened his mouth but nothing came out, and he could not meet the eyes that seemed to bore into him. He had the feeling that nothing went on inside his own heart that this man did not know. “Sometimes it is good to share troubles.”

Jacob swallowed hard. There was no reason why he should trust this man, but somehow he knew he had to break the silence.

“I am indeed in trouble, sir.”

“Perhaps if you'd tell me about it, it might help.”

And then Jacob began to speak. His legs were unsteady, and he had to hold his hands, they were trembling so hard. He tried to confess what he had done to Esau, but somehow he could not get the words out. There was such decency, and even nobility, in the being standing before him, he could not bring himself to confess the sort of man he himself was.

The stranger began to speak. “You are troubled, but all men are troubled. All men have their secrets that they will not speak to another. All women also. You know the story of Cain, who slew his own brother and became a vagabond and a fugitive?”

“Yes,” Jacob whispered. “My father and my grandfather Abraham told me of him. I wondered if God abandoned him. I've often wondered that.”

“No, God does not abandon men or women. They abandon God.”

Jacob clenched his hands together and whispered, “Always?”

“Yes, all men and women abandon God and go their own way. They try to run from Him and hide their thoughts from Him, but there's no hiding from the one who sees all things. Sometimes they wander over the earth desperately trying to flee from the one who made them and the one who loves them.”

“Why would a great God be concerned about a worm such as…well, such as I am?”

“Do you not know, Jacob? It is because He loves them.”

A bitter taste came to Jacob's lips. “I can't see how God can love men and women who sin.” Jacob bowed his head, and tears filled his eyes. “I don't see how God could forgive a man like me.”

“Jacob, you have eleven sons.”

Jacob knew with a certainty now that this was no ordinary visitor, and he felt more fear than ever. “You are a messenger from God,” he cried.

“You have eleven sons,” the man spoke, and the words came quickly. “Suppose one of them sinned against you. What would you do?”

“Why, I would perhaps chastise him.”

“But would you continue to love him?”

“Yes,” Jacob said fervently. “Yes, I am not such a bad man as that! I would love my sons even if they sinned against me.”

The words that came next were summer soft. “And do you think you're more compassionate than the great God himself?”

Jacob could not speak, but he listened intently as the stranger went on to speak about men of God who had failed their God, and He spoke of Noah, who after being the greatest man of faith on earth, still fell into sin. “But God loved Noah. He was one of your ancestors. And there was a man named Lot.”

“Yes, my grandfather's nephew.”

“He failed God, but God did not fail him. He saved him from a terrible fate.” The man went on speaking, and as Jacob listened to the voice, he felt a sudden compulsion to speak of his own crime—but somehow he could not do it. How long that conversation went on, Jacob could never afterward remember. It was like a wrestling match, in which the strange man who stood before him tried to penetrate to the center of Jacob's heart. And Jacob did everything he could to avoid speaking out his crime and his guilt and his shame. The two engaged in a tremendous struggle in the desert under the open sky, and Jacob knew that his life and his very being were on the brink of some terrible decision.

When Jacob was almost hoarse, the man said sadly, it seemed to Jacob, “I must go. Morning is beginning to break.”

Jacob never knew what possessed him, but he ran forward. He somehow had to have freedom from the terrible guilt that was in him, and he knew that this man was the only one who could give it to him.

“Do not go!” he begged. “Please don't leave me.” He grabbed the man by the arm, abashed at his own impertinence, but he held on tightly. The man tried to pull away, but Jacob would not let him go. He felt the strength flowing out of the man and knew that if he had so chosen, the stranger might have broken free easily. He began to cry and to plead, but the stranger would not be reasoned with.

“Bless me!” Jacob cried out. “Please, master, bless me!”

Afterward, as Jacob remembered this, it seemed as though the struggle that he then entered into took place on two planes. Physically he was scuffling with and clinging to the man who had come to him from God, but the real struggle was in his own heart, for he knew that this man had been sent by the Almighty One to give him one last chance.

Jacob felt a sharp pain in his hip, and he cried out but continued to hold on. “I will not let you go except you bless me!” he gasped.

He had fallen at the feet of the strange visitor, and he clung to him. But he twisted around until he could look up at the face.

“What is your name?” the stranger asked.

Jacob blinked. “You already know my name.”

The man did not speak, but Jacob knew there was more in the question than it seemed. “My name is Jacob,” he said.

“And what does that name mean?”

And then, hanging on to the feet of this strange man who had come to him out of the night and who was more than a man, Jacob suddenly understood. Bitterness rose in his throat like bile, and he knew he had reached the end of his rope. He knew there was no other place that he might turn, that his only hope lay in confessing what he was.

“Jacob is my name. It means
usurper
. Some have called me thief and deceiver. That was the name that was given to me,” he said with his throat tightening up, “and I have been that kind of a man.” He began to tell the story of how he had cheated his own brother, and as he did, he was aware of a lightening in the east. But it was the light in his own spirit that he felt the most. All of his life, since he had sinned against his brother, he had been carrying a heavy burden of guilt. Now as he spoke his confession, he felt as if he had stepped out of darkness into light. And he knew that it was not the light of the sun beginning to break in the east, but it was the guilt being lifted from his breast.

Jacob began to weep, and he felt strong hands on his arms lifting him up. Through tear-dimmed eyes, he looked into the eyes of the one who held him. He saw compassion and love and joy, and he felt these qualities seeping into his own spirit.

And then the man spoke, his voice low but powerful. “Your name will no longer be Jacob, for you will not be that sort of man anymore. Your name will be
Israel,
for as a prince you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome.”

As these words were spoken, Jacob felt a sense—he could not describe it—of purity, of cleanliness, of goodness pouring into his heart. Joyfully he whispered, “Tell me your name.”

“My name? I think when you have thought about it, you will know my name. And now, Israel, prince of God, I will leave you.”

Jacob tried to speak, but the stranger turned and moved away. Jacob started to follow him, but suddenly there was no one there! He stood staring into the moonlit desert. He was trembling violently, but that was physical. Inside there was a newness and a freshness, and he lifted his hands and cried out, “Oh, thou great and mighty God, I thank you for finding me and making me new!”

And Israel looked up to the stars—and gave praise to Him who made them…and to Him who pursues men.

“What's wrong with Jacob?” Rachel asked with alarm. She had risen at the sight of the figure that had come from the direction of the brook, and Reuben, who was standing close, shaded his eyes with his hand. “Something's wrong with him—he's been hurt,” he said, a worried expression crossing his face. He hurried forward, and Rachel followed him. When they reached Jacob, they saw that he was leaning heavily on his staff and limping badly.

“What happened, Jacob?” Rachel cried out. Others were coming now, having seen their leader, and Jacob waited until they had all crowded around him.

“I'm all right,” he said.