The Sons of Isaac (34 page)

She reached up and tugged at it until it came free, then quickly slid it into the basket under the bread. Laban had stolen her wedding night, and she would rob him of his good fortune. She did not want the old goat-man god or the ugly horned images of Sin, the local god. They were too big to carry or to conceal. But she had just the place for her collection of small images, in a pocket she had devised in the straw filling of her riding saddle. The images would fit in it nicely, and no one would be the wiser until they were miles from Haran.

*  *  *

As it turned out they had been gone three days before the revelers at the shearing missed them. Jokes and sly remarks had been made about Jacob and his sons, who they assumed must be late in rounding up their extensive flock. They could hardly wait to confront him and divide his flock among themselves.

When three days had passed and Jacob had not come with his family and flocks, Laban grew suspicious. He sent several of his sons back to Jacob’s house in the city to question his daughters. The sons found the courtyard empty with only a few tools leaning against the far wall. The house itself was dark and silent.

“They left just before the shearing festival,” an old woman told them.

It took a few more days to determine just what had happened. Laban came hurrying home and consulted with his sons. They all speculated as to where Jacob would take such a large, unwieldy family.

Finally when Laban discovered the small fertility teraphim and the good luck image from his door gone, he realized this was no short trip. “They have obviously left to go back to Jacob’s family in Canaan,” he said.

“What can we do?” his sons asked.

“We’ll go after them. Jacob can’t sneak off like this with my daughters and their children. And what an insult for him to steal my good luck images.”

“They can’t have gotten far,” one of his sons said. “They have children and large flocks.”

In less than a day they were mounted and ready to ride.

By asking questions as they went, they were able to follow the trail exactly, with few mistakes. They rode down along the Balikh River, crossed the Euphrates, and when they reached the Gilead mountains, they knew that within a day or two they would catch up with Jacob’s more cumbersome band.

As they traveled, Laban spent most of his time gloating over the way he would punish Jacob. His eyes glistened and his mouth twisted into an ugly grimace as he swore to deal out severe punishments to him. His whole entourage began to fear the worst. They knew Laban as a man who had a fine-tuned temper and would tolerate no insubordination.

How surprised they were when they finally caught up with Jacob to find Laban strangely ready to make peace. “I had a dream last night,” he told Jacob. “The God of your father appeared to me and warned me not to harm you. However, why did you have to steal my lucky idols?”

Jacob’s face grew red, and he clenched his fists in frustration. He had never had any dealings with Laban’s idols, and he resented being accused of stealing them. Without hesitation he pronounced a great curse on anyone who might have taken the idols, saying, “Whoever has taken them, let him die.”

Then he gave permission for Laban to search everyone and every place. “Search the camp,” he said, “and if you find them with anyone, they will surely die.”

Laban sent his men in every direction while he himself checked his daughters and their children. When he came to Rachel, she very cleverly insisted she could not rise from the camel’s saddle because it was that time of the month.

Laban dared not challenge her for proof. She looked pale and fragile and he did not want to do anything that would upset her. Laban immediately called off the search. His whole attitude changed. Though he cited all of his grievances and listened to Jacob’s complaints, he finally agreed to make a peace pact with Jacob.

At that, Jacob took a huge rock and placed it upright between them, then calling his men, he told them to pile a great heap of stones around it. They called the pile of stones “the witness pile.” In Laban’s language it was “Jegar-sahadutha,” but in Jacob’s “Galeed.”

This was to be a barrier across which neither one would go to attack the other. “This pile of stones will stand as our witness if either one crosses this line,” Jacob said.

“This will be our watchtower (mizpah),” Laban said. “The Lord may be the only one who will know if we keep this bargain when we are parted from each other. If you are cruel to my daughters or take other wives, I won’t know, but the God of your father will see it.”

Jacob took a great oath in the name of his great-grandfather Terah, grandfather Abraham, and his own father, Isaac, that he would respect the boundary line. Then he made a sacrifice to God and ordered a feast prepared for everyone.

In the morning, Laban arose early, kissed his daughters and his grandchildren, then with tears in his eyes blessed them and departed for home.

After Laban had gone, Jacob pondered briefly over the missing idols. Was it possible, he wondered, that someone in his company could have taken them? He had questioned Rachel, and she had laughed her silvery laugh and admitted it wasn’t really that time of the month but insisted that she knew nothing of the idols. “I thought he was being too pompous and it would be nice to get even with him for all the times he has tricked you.”

*  *  *

As Jacob traveled on southward, he became more anxious about meeting Esau and more concerned about his mother’s illness. He prayed that he might have guidance and the assurance of God’s presence. He received no definite answer but instead had a strangely reassuring encounter with what appeared to be a host of heavenly beings.

It happened at dusk one evening. Just ahead of him on the path where two cliffs seemed to bar his way, he saw an army of light. Two camps of ethereal beings were dressed in full armor. As he slowly and cautiously advanced, they parted and let him pass. With sudden understanding, he exclaimed, “This is God’s host; they have come in two camps to protect us.” He promptly named the place Mahanaim, or two camps, so he would not forget the place where this miracle happened.

With this to encourage him, he determined he must immediately send a message to notify his brother, Esau, that he was on his way home. He must deal with the problem of Esau first before he could return to his mother and father. It was very possible that Esau still harbored such a grudge that he would threaten to kill him.

Time was running out. He had been procrastinating, putting it off long enough. The time had come to act. He didn’t know just what to do, but it was obvious he must settle that relationship before he could return home.

He finally singled out five young men to go as his messengers. “You must tell my brother that all this time I have been living with our uncle Laban. Tell him also that I have prospered so that I own oxen, donkeys, sheep, and many servants. I’m not coming back as a failure, and I hope he will be friendly to us.”

In what seemed a very short time, his messengers returned with the frightening news that Esau was coming to meet him with an army of four hundred men.

Jacob was wild with fear. He didn’t know what to do. Finally he went alone back up into the hills to pray. “Oh, Jehovah,” he prayed, “You told me to return to the land of my birth and that You would do me good. I am not worthy of all Your loving-kindness. I remember how I left home with only a walking stick, and now I am two large camps. Please protect me from my brother, Esau. I am frightened, terribly frightened. I know he’s coming to kill me. Please remember Your promise to make my descendants as the sands along the shore or the stars in the sky.”

After he had prayed he felt better and could think more clearly. “I must send him presents,” he said as he ordered his shepherds to single out from his flock,

200 nanny goats

20 billy goats

200 ewes

20 rams

30 milk camels with their young

40 cows

10 bulls

20 female donkeys

10 male donkeys.

Jacob gave the men who were to take these gifts to Esau instructions that they should arrive one after the other, with enough space in between to be impressive. As each arrived, they were to announce that the animals were a gift to Esau from his servant Jacob. In this way he hoped to soften Esau’s heart.

Jacob moved down to the brook Jabbok and camped there while he waited. He had done all he could to placate his brother. The waiting was nerve-wracking. He paced back and forth, trying to imagine the worst that might happen. With four hundred men, Esau could quickly wipe out his whole family. He struggled to think of some preparation he could make that would lessen the blow.

He finally reasoned that Esau would be looking for him, not his family. He must somehow separate himself from his family. He walked around thinking and planning, and finally he came to a decision. He would divide his family into two camps. Leah and her children would be in the first camp that Esau would meet, and Rachel and her children in the second.

It took the whole day to accomplish, but when night fell Jacob was still not satisfied. He tried to sleep but was too disturbed. It seemed to him that there must be something more that he could do. He finally rose and woke his wives and their children. “I have decided,” he said, “that it will be safer if we put the river between us. It’s me he will be looking for, and he will not harm you until he first finds me.”

They quickly passed over the Jabbok and settled down for the rest of the night, leaving Jacob alone on the opposite bank. The moon rose over the Gilead mountains behind him, touching the rocks and shrubs with a soft light but leaving the gorge of the Jabbok dark and shadowed. He could hear nothing but the rushing water crashing against the rocks and gurgling in its hurried descent.

A cold, damp, chilling mist rose along the rocky banks of the river. Jacob shuddered and hurried to wrap himself in his sheepskin cloak. He found a level space with soft tufts of grass and lay down, making sure he could keep watch over his family on the far bank.

Now that he was quiet, he could hear the sound of a child crying faintly and far away. One of his shepherds was playing his flute. Everything was calm and peaceful. It seemed hard to imagine that disaster could be coming toward them up the Jordan valley.

No sooner had he settled himself to sleep than he was suddenly aroused by the soft crunching sound of sandaled feet walking somewhere nearby. Then a shower of stones was dislodged above him. He jumped up and was immediately wrestled to the ground by a large man who seemed to have sprung at him out of the darkness. He assumed it was Esau come to take his revenge. Fear drove him to desperate measures. He wrestled, exerting every bit of strength at his command. The moon came out from behind a cloud and shone for just a moment on the man’s face, and Jacob saw that it was not Esau. It made no difference. The man had attacked him and he must prevail at all costs.

The man was stronger and bigger than Jacob, but Jacob tussled and wrestled him to the ground again and again. Sheer terror enflamed him. When Jacob would not give up, the stranger lightly touched the hollow of his thigh, putting it out of joint. Jacob was in excruciating pain but even then he would not give up.

“Let me go,” the man said. “The day is breaking.”

Exhausted, dripping with sweat and caked with mud, Jacob clung to him. “I will not let you go unless you bless me,” he gasped.

“What is your name?” the man asked, still trying to pull away.

“Jacob! My name is Jacob,” he almost sobbed.

There was a pause and then looking down at Jacob, the man said, “Your name is no longer Jacob but Israel, for as a prince you have prevailed. You have power with both God and man.”

Jacob stumbled to his feet and peered through strands of matted hair at the man. “What is your name?” he questioned softly.

“Why must you know my name?” the man asked. “It is enough that I have blessed you.” With that he was gone as mysteriously as he had appeared.

Jacob lay back exhausted. He must have dozed, because in what seemed just moments, the sun was up over the distant mountains, birds were singing, and the terror of the night was completely gone. Jacob felt oddly refreshed. He roused and looked around, remembering the struggle with the stranger of the night before.
Surely it was just a dream
.

Then he rose and found his hip was painful where the stranger had touched him. He took a few steps and found that he limped. With difficulty he made his way down to the river and knelt to wash his face. Stooping was painful. He saw his image in the water waver and break. “This is no longer Jacob,” he said with amazement. “I am no longer the trickster, the supplanter; I am Israel, God’s prince.”

He laughed a joyful, excited, gut-shaking laugh. “All my life I have had to plot and scheme to get ahead. I never dared to face a man or a problem head-on. Last night I wrestled with no tricks and won. I am Israel!”

The word sounded beautiful, even musical. He said it softly, then chanted it, then shouted the word so it echoed against the rocky heights behind him. He wanted to leap and run and dance, but his hip was too painful.

He stood and pondered the strangeness of it all. He would have been sure it was a dream but for the pain in his hip and the limp that didn’t go away. “It was all real,” he concluded. “I wrestled with God and won a blessing from Him and a new name.”

He gathered up his sheepskin cloak and started for the river.
I must give this place a name
. “Peniel,” he said. “I’ll call it Peniel, for surely I have seen God face-to-face.”

With that he went down and waded across the turbulent, bubbling water of the Jabbok and stood on the opposite shore, eager and ready to meet Esau. “I am not afraid,” he shouted. “I am Israel, God’s prince.”

*  *  *

The next day Esau came riding a white mule with his four hundred men strung out behind him. Behind his men came the animals that Jacob had sent to him as gifts. Jacob stood watching him come, no longer hiding behind his large family but out in front ready to deal with his brother.