The Sons of Isaac

by Roberta Kells Dorr

  “Encouraged, how?” Laban demanded.

  Eleazar smiled. “When I came to your well, I stopped and prayed, ‘O Lord God of my master, when the young virgins come down to draw water, if there is one who, when I ask, will give me a drink of water and then will agree to water my camels also, let this be the one for my master’s son.’”

  Laban grew uncomfortable and Bethuel shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Rebekah, looking from the window, let out a gasp of surprise and reached out to grasp Deborah’s hand. Eleazar seemed not to notice their reactions but continued, “Before I had finished speaking in my heart, Rebekah came with her jar and drew water then willingly gave me to drink and offered to water my camels also.

  “I could hardly believe what I was seeing,” Eleazar continued. “‘Whose daughter are you?’ I asked. When she told me she was the daughter of Bethuel of the house of Nahor I bowed my head and gave thanks to the God of my master, who had led me in the right way to take my master’s brother’s daughter for his son.”

  Both Bethuel and Laban were silent. They had never heard of a god working in such a direct manner. They also remembered that Rebekah had prayed to Abraham’s God. How very strange it was that all of these events had fit together so perfectly. If Eleazar had come just a few weeks later she would have been married to Nazzim.

  Could it really be possible that an angel had guided Eleazar and then had also prepared them in Haran for his coming?

  Eleazar raised his head and looked around at each one of them as he said, “Now tell me if you intend to deal kindly with my master and, if not, let me know so that I may look elsewhere for a wife for my master’s son.”

  Behind the shutters of the window, Rebekah closed her eyes and held her breath waiting for Laban’s answer. It would be the greatest miracle of all if he would agree to let her go. He would not only be missing out on his many plans but would have to somehow inform Nazzim that the agreement had to be canceled.

  Now both Bethuel and Laban were in awe of a God who seemed to work so openly and to express His desires so firmly. To hear that even an angel had guided Eleazar was impressive. They looked at each other and knew they could not go against such a demonstration of the strength of Abraham’s God. Laban spoke for both of them, “It’s obvious this thing proceeds from the Lord, the God of my uncle Abraham. We cannot come against it; Rebekah is free to go with you to become your master’s son’s wife as the Lord has spoken.”

  When Eleazar heard this he bowed down to the ground and then rose to his knees with hands in the air and tears running down his cheeks. Words of praise were on his lips for the miraculous way in which the God of Abraham had brought about His will.

  When he rose he asked that Rebekah might be brought out and seated in the chair of honor so that he could give her the gifts sent by the household of her prospective bridegroom. Rebekah came, still dressed in the simple garments she had worn to the well. Her mantle of coarse stuff that would not stay in place let her curling hair peep out around her face; her feet were bare and she wore no jewelry except for the earrings and bracelets given her at the well by Eleazar. She hesitantly sat down and then looked around, eagerly wondering what would happen next.

  Quickly Eleazar ordered his men to bring out the presents. Right away there was a great stir in the stables where the camels were lodged. Then slowly, one after the other, the servants of Eleazar appeared carrying gifts to be laid at Rebekah’s feet. There were trays holding ornate headpieces with carefully worked silver leaves and stylized flowers. There were casks filled with the most exquisite gold and silver jewelry inlaid with large and costly gems. Quickly this was followed by brass and marble incense burners with the incense wrapped in leather bundles decorated with drawings of Egyptian flowers and birds. Beside them were placed alabaster urns with precious and rare fragrances. There was linen from the looms of Egypt, fine textured gauze mantles from Gaza, and embroidered doeskin slippers from the craftsmen of Damascus. There seemed to be no end of the delights.

  When Rebekah had at last received all of her gifts, there followed even more gifts for the whole family of Nahor. Even Laban, who was usually thinking of making the best deal and what profit was involved, was impressed. “It’s settled,” he told his father. “It’s only right that Rebekah should marry her cousin.”

  * * *

  Quite unnoticed by any of the revelers, Laban’s wife, Barida, was standing in the shadow of the doorway leading into the women’s quarters. She had witnessed everything and finally had heard what Laban said. She was angry and upset. She had counted on her father’s marriage to Rebekah. She had even hoped that in that event she and Laban could move back into her own home with her father. She was already smarting under the watchful eye of her mother-in-law and she found it most unpleasant. If she could move back into her own home, she would easily manage to be in control, and she had to be in control if she was to be at all happy. To wait until she had sons and Laban’s parents were dead would take too long. She must somehow get word to her father so this whole farcical development could be stopped.

  All afternoon she paced up and down digging her nails into her arms, pulling her hair, and cursing her evil luck. If she could only get a message to her father in time. She could depend on him to be livid with anger. He would act forcefully and swiftly. Slowly she devised a plan that would have to be carried out under the cover of darkness.

  Just as the sun set and darkness descended over the house of Nahor and the village of Haran, Barida put her plan into action. She called her little serving maid to her rooms. “Quick,” she ordered her in a whisper, “you must go and warn my father that my husband, Laban, is in the very act of arranging a marriage for his sister with a distant cousin. My father must act immediately or it will be too late.”

  The girl repeated the message to be sure she could remember it, and then slipped out and headed for the back gate where there would be less chance of being noticed.

  Barida’s plan would probably have worked but for one mistake. She was so angry she could not resist threatening Laban when he finally returned to their room. “It seems you have forgotten that your sister is promised to my father,” she said. “If your plans actually work out, he’ll never forgive you for such an insult.”

  Laban swung around and glared at her suspiciously. “What do you mean, ‘if’? There is no ‘if’ about it. My sister will go with this messenger and marry our cousin. It’s better this way.”

  Barida laughed a cold, cynical laugh. “You forget, it seems, that she was promised to my father. He’s counting on it. He’s not used to being disappointed.”

  Laban was instantly defensive. He had known there would be trouble, but he could not resist claiming the wonderful gifts that Abraham had sent. These were gifts to be enjoyed right away, while it could be a long time before he would be able to claim any of Nazzim’s wealth. This was a sure thing, while to depend on a scheme involving Nazzim was not so sure. Nazzim could marry Rebekah, and if he was not pleased with her return her the next day, and there would go all of Laban’s carefully made plans.

  Barida realized she had to act fast. Her father was old and often confused. She couldn’t depend on his prompt reaction to the news she had sent to him. She quickly decided to tell Laban what she had done. She was sure he would be afraid to proceed further with his troublesome plans. Given enough time she had no doubt her father would put pressure on Laban and his family so that Rebekah would be forced to marry him.

  “My lord,” she said with a toss of her head and a strange tightness to her mouth, “my serving girl has already gone to deliver the message to my father that his promised bride is about to be given to another. I have no doubt that he will act quickly to put an end to your crafty plans.”

  Laban clenched his fists and glared at her in disbelief. He had underestimated Barida, but he had no doubt about Nazzim and his anger and penchant for wreaking vengeance upon anyone who stood in his way. He knew very well what trouble Nazzim could cause. He had
been foolishly counting on enough time to work something out. Now there was no time. Nazzim would be descending upon them at any moment. Such was the anger of the man when aroused that he could very well arrange for Rebekah to be disfigured or killed so that if he couldn’t have her neither would anyone else. In fact it was possible that under the circumstances he would no longer want her but would not allow her to marry anyone else.

  These thoughts raced through his mind as he swung around to face Barida. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward him so that he was glaring directly into her pinched and watery eyes. “By the gods of my family, you will not succeed.”

  She laughed a harsh, defiant laugh. “Your gods are from Ur and have no effect here. It is my father’s god called Sin that rules.”

  Laban was half-afraid she might be right, and so he let out a vile oath and flung her from him as he left the room.

  * * *

  As Laban came out into the courtyard, he found only the women sweeping and kneading the bread for the morning meal. He was about to go on up to the roof when his mother came hurrying toward him. “Laban,” she whispered, “I must see you immediately.” By the look on her face Laban knew something very serious had happened. Without a word he followed her to the small receiving room off the courtyard.

  The minute the door was closed, she leaned toward him and whispered, “I have your wife’s maid locked in the provisions room. I don’t know what mischief she was about, but I caught her leaving from the back gate. She’s crying and threatening terrible things. Of course Barida was sending her.”

  A look of surprise crossed his face and then he grinned and rubbed his hands together. “You caught her going out the back gate? You did well, very well,” he said. “You’ve saved us a great deal of trouble.”

  “I’m sure Barida will be upset.”

  “Barida will be very upset. She needs to be upset. She’s already trying to control things.”

  “Where could she have been going at this hour of the day?”

  “I just talked to Barida. She was sending her to Nazzim.”

  “To Nazzim?” His mother was puzzled.

  “It’s obvious she intended to stop Rebekah’s good fortune. She wanted her father to come and put an end to all our plans.”

  The mother’s hands flew to her face as a look of horror spread across it. “What’ll we do? What can we say? Nazzim’s very strong.”

  Laban ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced. “There’s no time. Something must be done fast, but what?”

  The two stood looking at each other. It all seemed quite hopeless. Sooner or later Nazzim would be sure to win. Stopping Barida’s maid gave them time, but so little time. If they were going to do anything, it would take much more time.

  Laban shrugged. “I have to go tell Eleazar. He needs to know.” With that he turned and went slowly up the stone stairs that led to the roof where the men were still sitting. Laban found them reclining on the stiff woolen mats stuffed with straw, leaning on the cushioned armrests, and drinking his mother’s best fig wine. A slight breeze blew and the moon shown through the leaves of the grape arbor with a soft and magical light.

  The men were asking questions and mulling over Eleazar’s astonishing answers. They were hearing more of their relative and his obvious success when Laban burst into their midst with his dire news.

  “We have not been honest with you, my generous friend,” he said, looking at Eleazar directly. “My sister has been all but promised to a prominent, very wealthy old man, the father of my wife. It seems that my wife has already made one attempt to alert him to our plans, and we can be sure to hear of his violent reaction soon.”

  Immediately everyone began to talk and to explain while Eleazar sat in a stunned silence. He could tell by their agitation that this was no simple problem. He had been so happy, so sure of God’s guidance and the rightness of all that had transpired. How could this have happened? He well knew the violent reactions of men like Nazzim and their families under such circumstances. It touched their honor at its most vulnerable point, and they would hurry to wreak the most terrible revenge. A wealthy, prominent older man would have resources and be able to devise torments undreamed of by the ordinary citizen.

  They were all looking at Eleazer and he had no answers to give. He tried to think what his master, Abraham, would do under these circumstances, and he knew that he would insist there was no escape without prayer for guidance from Elohim. He looked around at their faces and saw that they had no idea of what this involved. They would think it complete foolishness, but he had no other answer to give. He stood and faced them. “I only know,” he said, “that I have been guided in a most miraculous way to your house and to your young maiden. Surely the God who guided me here will give us the wisdom we need to meet this difficulty.” With that he turned and went down the stairs to join his men sleeping out under the soft night air of the far courtyard.

  Laban flung off his headgear in frustration and kicked the clay mugs of wine, making them spill across the tiles in a red streak. “The man is a fool to depend on some mysterious angel or his God. Nazzim has armed retainers and a host of the local gods to come to his aid. I have been foolish to entertain such plans for Rebekah. We will all be attacked one way or another.” With that he dashed for the stairs; taking them two at a time, he landed at the bottom not knowing what he should do. When he ventured into the far court, he found Eleazar and his men already sound asleep.

  Laban paused by the door that led to the idol’s shrine under the stairs. From around the door came a sweet smell and small wisps of smoke. Laban realized that either his father or his grandfather had taken the matter into his own hands and had implored the old goat-man to intervene in this problem of Rebekah’s marriage.

  He gently lifted the latch and opened the door a slight crack. In the dim light of the oil lamp, it looked as though the idol was smiling. “So you think you’ve won,” he muttered. “You aren’t afraid of Abraham’s God? We know what side He’s on. He wants our sister for this Isaac.”

  Laban was about to close the door and go back to the roof when quite suddenly Nahor appeared out of the shadows. He was shuffling along and leaning heavily on his gnarled cane.

  “So you’re wondering,” Nahor said, “who prepared the incense and lit the lamp and for what purpose.”

  “Of course,” Laban said.

  “I don’t want Rebekah to leave. I never wanted Abraham to leave.”

  Laban was not surprised. “You want Rebekah to marry Nazzim?”

  “No, no, not that old man,” Nahor said, thumping his cane on the hard packed earth. “The old idol must do better.”

  Laban chuckled. “He’s smiling in there. What does that mean?”

  Nahor came close enough to whisper, “He’s about to show us how strong he is.”

  For a moment there was silence between them as they thought of all that might mean. Then Laban turned and headed for the stairs. “We’ll see,” he said. He went back up the stairs to the roof, lay down on the straw mats under the grape arbor, and pondered the situation. After rehearsing all the facts in his mind, he came to the conclusion that this time there was no way the God of his uncle Abraham could win. It was obvious the old goat-man favored Nazzim, and it was only a matter of time before Nazzim would come to claim Rebekah. No matter how clever this Eleazar might be, there was not enough time for any plan he might devise. Laban shifted to a more comfortable position, but he could not sleep.

  E arly the next morning Eleazar woke his men and ordered them to prepare the camels for departure. This did not take long and they were soon gathered for the repast Bethuel and Laban had promised them. The sun was just coming up over the roofs of the nearby houses and somewhere over the far wall a rooster began to crow. One of Laban’s shepherds knocked on the courtyard door and handed in a kidskin container of fresh goat’s milk, while fresh bread was passed around with chunks of tart smoked cheese. The men ate with relish and then sat silently waiting fo
r Eleazar to tell them what they were going to do.

  Eleazar ate calmly and with unusual deliberation. When he had finished, he turned to the three men of Rebekah’s family. “It’s obvious to me that we must leave immediately. I have accomplished all that my master commanded.”

  Rebekah’s mother stood in the shadows, and when she heard what he intended to do, she let out an anguished cry and rushed forward. “Please, I beg of you, let my daughter stay with us awhile. It’s so far to Canaan. We may never see her again.”

  Eleazar answered slowly, “Do not keep me. I understand your concern. I wish it could be an easy matter. However, you have seen how my way was prepared, and now it is clear to me that the time has come to return to my master.”

  Then Bethuel, who saw the wisdom of the man’s decision, stood up. “We must send for Rebekah,” he said, “and let her decide.” With that he led the men of the family to the visiting room and sent the mother to bring Rebekah.

  When they were by themselves, Laban said, “This seems to be very wise. If they linger even a short time, Nazzim will be down on us with his men like a pack of wolves.”

  “But if she goes with him, old Nazzim will never forgive us,” Bethuel said.

  “When Nazzim hears what we have tried to do, he may decide not to marry Rebekah just to punish us,” Laban admonished.

  “You were so eager to marry her to Nazzim. Why have you changed?” Nahor’s voice was thin and petulant.

  This silenced them for a few moments while Laban thought about the strange events that had conspired to change his mind. He had been influenced by the gifts, but it was more than that. He found it hard to put this feeling into words. Finally glancing around as though to be sure only his father and grandfather were listening, he whispered, “It’s Abraham’s God, Elohim. He seems to be able to arrange things. It somehow frightens me to go against His will.”

  “So it is agreed that we will leave it to Rebekah to decide,” said Bethuel.