Signs and Wonders

by Bernard Evslin

  This, too, was reported to Laban, who thereupon took all his household idols and had his men place them on the pasture fence. The idols sat on the fence staring woodenly at the animals. But Laban’s herds did not prosper.

  “I do have a magic,” said Jacob to Rachel. “But it is the kind of thing no spy will discover, nor can it be understood by anyone who tries to get something for nothing. Diligence and care and some knowledge of animal ways, these are the sorcery. And, of course, each morning before I go to the field I ask the Lord to bless my labors. And this God is no little puppet but the one God Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, who is everywhere at all times.”

  Now six years had passed, and Laban saw that Jacob could claim as wage hundreds of speckled and spotted, striped and parti-colored animals—that, according to agreement, he could leave with great flocks and herds, more than Laban himself owned. And the old man did not feel kindly toward Jacob.

  The Lord spoke to Jacob, saying, “It is time to leave this place. Return to the land of your fathers, and I will go with you.”

  Jacob called Leah and Rachel to him and said: “Your father begins to hate me, because my flocks increase and I shall be able to claim a great part of that increase as my wage. Therefore I wish to return to Canaan, taking you and the children. Will you go with me or stay home with your father?”

  Leah said: “He is no longer our father. He has disinherited us. You have increased his flocks a hundredfold, and that was our bride price, but he has never given us our share. He has sold us like servants. Anything you take from him now is only what he owes you, and to us, and to the children.”

  “It is so,” said Rachel. This was the first time since Jacob’s coming that the sisters had agreed about anything.

  “So be it,” said Jacob. “We leave tomorrow.”

  He gathered his sheep and goats and cattle, and camels and donkeys. He mounted the women and children on camels, but rode a horse himself so that he could drive the cattle. And they left their tents, which were outside the city, and set off for Canaan.

  The night before, Rachel had gone back to Laban’s house and taken certain wooden idols, called teraphim, that had been in her room. She had known them all her life and cherished them. She believed they had eased her pains during the birth of Joseph. Since she was with child again, she did not wish to leave the idols behind. She hid them in the saddlebags of her camel.

  It was a large company that struck tents in the chilly dawn—Jacob, Leah, Rachel, the two handmaids, Bilhah and Zilpah, their eleven sons, and Dinah, the one daughter. When Laban heard that they had left, taking the flocks and herds that were Jacob’s wage, he decided to kill Jacob. He called his men together and set out in pursuit. Seven days he pursued them. He overtook them on a plain before a mountain called Gilead. There Laban encamped, meaning to attack in the morning.

  That night God appeared to him in a dream and said: “I am the God of Jacob, God of Abraham and Isaac. You do not know me, but I know you, Laban. And I say to you, do not harm Jacob in any way.”

  Laban did not believe in dreams, but he was not a man to take chances. He left his men encamped on the plain and rode alone to Jacob’s tent, Jacob came to meet him.

  “Why did you leave in that unfriendly way?” cried Laban. “Why did you carry off my daughters as though they were captives taken by the sword?”

  “They are not captives.”

  “Why did you flee without a word to me? Why did you not tell me that you wanted to go? I would have feasted you as becomes my son-in-law, and sent you on your way with mirth and song, with the music of the taboret and harp.”

  “Let us say that, knowing your lavish nature, I wished to spare you the expense of hiring musicians,” said Jacob.

  “I wasn’t even able to kiss my daughters good-bye. Or my grandchildren. You should not have done this, Jacob. I have men with me. I could punish you for your treachery.”

  “I have no troops,” said Jacob. “My God guards me on this journey. He does not make a show of weapons, but do not take Him lightly.”

  “Certainly not,” said Laban. “I respect all gods, even those I cannot see. I suppose you think these flocks and herds you have driven off from Haran are your just wage?”

  “I do. And you know it to be so.”

  “And the kindly idols made of wood that were stolen out of my house—were they part of your wage?”

  “I know nothing about any idols.”

  “They were stolen on the night that you departed. Someone here took them. I want them back.”

  “Why would I need wooden images?” cried Jacob. “Or anyone here? Search for them. Search my tents, everyone. If any of my family or any of my servants has indeed stolen them, I say that person shall not live!”

  Of course Jacob did not know that Rachel had taken her father’s household idols.

  Laban strode off and searched all the tents; he found nothing. He went into Rachel’s tent. She knew he was coming and was sitting on the saddlebags in which she had hidden the idols.

  “Pardon me for not rising, dear Father,” she said. “I am stiff from the journey.”

  Laban grunted and searched the rest of the tent, then stamped out.

  “Have you found them?” said Jacob.

  “I have found nothing,” said Laban.

  “Before you go, let me say this, O father-in-law. You complain about the great herds and flocks of speckled animals that I have taken as my wage. But cast your mind back over the twenty years that I have served you. Seven years of it was a straight cheat—as you know—because you shuffled daughters on my wedding night. During those twenty years that I labored among your flocks, increasing them a hundredfold, I took all the losses myself as if I were the owner, not the herdsman. Those lost to drought, and calves and lambs born dead, all those I subtracted from my share. All those lost to wild beasts, those, also, have I tallied to your favor. Look upon me, Laban. You will never meet an honest man. For you cannot recognize honesty.”

  “It may be so,” said Laban. “But be kind. You have what you want, for all that I did or meant to do. You go to Canaan with a large family; I return to an empty house. You are protected by a god I cannot begin to understand, but whose power I have felt. My gods are little wooden dolls, and most of them are chipped, and some of them are stolen.”

  “It is true,” said Jacob.

  “For all that I have done and not done I beg your forgiveness,” said Laban. “Now let me kiss my grandchildren farewell.”

  And Jacob and Laban swore peace between them forevermore. The old man went to his daughters and his grandchildren, and kissed them all farewell, and blessed them, and departed.

  Now Jacob had but one more river to cross before going into Canaan, and he knew that he must at last meet his brother, Esau. He tried to prepare the way. He sent messengers over the river, bidding them seek out Esau. “Say these words to Esau: ‘Your brother Jacob has sojourned with Laban these twenty years. Now he has come home with oxen and donkeys and flocks of sheep, and goats and herds of cattle, and menservants and women servants. More than this, he comes with wives who are the daughters of Laban, and with eleven sons and a daughter. He comes home a man of wealth, but his one wish is to be your servant and to beseech your forgiveness for all that he has done.’ ”

  Jacob waited on the eastern bank of the river for the messengers to return. They came the next day, saying, “Esau comes with four hundred horsemen. They come like the wind, raising dust before them. And all men shrink before their coming.” Jacob raised his face to heaven and said: “Oh, Lord, you bade me return to Canaan, and here I am. Here, too, is my brother Esau, who comes to smite me. Deliver me, I pray you, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau.”

  No voice answered, and Jacob took steps for himself. He divided his company in two, saying, “He can attack only one encampment at a time; this will give the other one a chance to escape.” Then he called his herdsmen and prepared a rich gift for Esau: two hundred she-goats, twenty
he-goats; two hundred ewes and twenty rams; thirty milk camels with their colts; forty cows and ten bulls; twenty donkeys and ten foals. He had his herdsmen divide the stock, drove by drove, bidding them ford the river with their stock, and travel toward Esau.

  “When you meet my brother,” he said, “say this: These belong to your servant, Jacob, who gives them to his brother Esau.’ ”

  That night Jacob left his tent and slept alone in a field, for he knew what the next day might bring, and he wanted to be ready if God wished to speak to him. He had noticed that God preferred to show Himself outdoors. It was a hot night and a rocky field. Overhead hung a great chandelier of stars. Their white fire burned into his marrow, and even in the depths of his fear he wondered at God’s handiwork. Wondering, he fell asleep. Light struck his eyeballs. Heat touched his face. He leaped to his feet. There in the blackness of the night he saw one striding toward him terrible and bright. “Who are you?” he cried.

  The stranger did not answer but strode toward him. “It is Esau,” Jacob said to himself, “Esau grown more terrible, brilliant with rage, and primed for murder.” His heart shuddered; his breath caught in his throat, and his legs trembled. The stranger was very close now. “I die,” said Jacob. Then he thought, not of his own death, but of the way of the victor among the vanquished. Of women raped and put to the sword, of children taken by the legs and their brains dashed out against the stones. He thought of Rachel being forced to the ground. He thought of Joseph, his beloved little Joseph, lifted suddenly by the ankles in those brutal red-furred hands. He heard a sound he did not recognize. It was himself growling in his throat like a sheepdog when a wolf nears his flock.

  Jacob flung himself on the stranger and seized him. All thought of self was gone. He was only a pair of hands to hold back the attacker of Rachel and Joseph, a pair of hands to hold, to punch, to gouge. A pair of legs to thresh and kick, a head to butt, teeth to bite. He grappled the stranger close.

  The one who had come in the night had a terrible easy strength, like the spate of a river in flood. Jacob was shaken and buffeted. But his fingers had become rods of steel. He grasped the enemy and would not let him go.

  Now the blows from that huge heavy fist seemed to be falling from a great distance. The pull of the stranger’s arms as he strove with Jacob seemed to be coming from the very center of the earth. Still Jacob clung. A swoon was stealing over his senses; he knew he could not hold out much longer.

  And now with the tip of one finger the other touched Jacob in the hollow of his thigh. Jacob’s leg locked. The sinew of his thigh shrank under the uncanny touch; his leg dangled useless. But Jacob planted his good leg and held on, although in agony. A mist passed over him. The foeman held Jacob so he could not move. “What is your name?” Jacob heard a voice say.

  “You know my name. I am Jacob. Are you not Esau?”

  “You are no longer Jacob,” said the voice. “Your name is Israel now.”

  And Jacob was filled with awe. For the name Israel in that language meant “he who wrestles God.”

  “Who are you?” Jacob whispered.

  “You may not utter my name,” said the voice. “Do not ask it.… But you are still holding me. Let me go.”

  “I have wrestled with you all night long, whoever you are, bright stranger,” cried Jacob. “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

  The stranger smiled, and his smile had the beauty of the dawn. “I bless you, Israel,” he said.

  He vanished. And Jacob sank to the ground again, and slept. When he awoke, he thought it had all been a dream. But he was lame.

  The next morning Jacob crossed the river and waited there for Esau. He no longer feared him. After wrestling the angel, he feared no man. Nevertheless, he was careful; he had his family to protect. He had separated his family into three parts, putting the handmaids, Bilhah and Zilpah, in front with their sons. Behind them he had placed Leah and her sons. Last he had put the little Joseph and Rachel, who was big with another child. Jacob stood before all of them, awaiting his brother.

  Esau came like the wind, with four hundred horsemen. Their horses were swift, their spirits like eagles. Their swords flashed in the sun.

  Esau reined up his horse, pulling it back onto its hind legs so that it stood very tall over Jacob, snorting and foaming. Looking down from this height, Esau watched his brother bowing to the ground. Seven times Jacob bowed to the ground. Esau leaped off his horse, pulled Jacob to his feet, and swept him into his embrace. They held each other in their arms and kissed each other’s face, and both wept.

  Esau saw the hordes of women and children and said to Jacob: “Who are they?”

  “The children that God has given me,” said Jacob, and beckoned. Bilhah and Zilpah came near, bringing their sons, and they bowed to Esau. Leah came near with her six sons, and all bowed to Esau. Then came Rachel, smiling, leading one beautiful child by the hand and thrusting out her big belly with great pride.

  Esau watched her with admiration, for she was a beautiful woman. Rachel bowed to the ground; Joseph bowed. Esau raised them, and embraced them, and kissed them both.

  Then he said to Jacob: “Coming here I met drove after drove of fine cattle, and the men tried to give them to me. What did they mean?”

  “The cattle are yours,” Jacob said. “Cows and bulls, sheep, goats, she-camels with their foals, and donkeys. All yours. They are my gift to you.”

  “I have enough, brother,” said Esau. “Keep what is yours.”

  “No,” said Jacob. “If I have found grace in your sight, if you have forgiven what I did to you, O brother, please show your forgiveness by accepting this small gift. God has dealt graciously with me, and I have great herds and flocks, more than enough.”

  “I thank you,” said Esau. “And know this: My old rage is forgotten, and the youthful trick that caused it. And what is not forgotten is forgiven. All I feel now is love for my brother, my twin, who departed this land twenty years ago, and has come again.”

  The brothers stood looking at each other, trying to see beyond the courtesies into each other’s heart. The twenty years had barely touched Esau. He had thickened and coarsened somewhat, but his face was as red as his hair, which was as red as in his youth. And his beard sprang like flame from his face. He was a stallion of a man, flashing with rage and laughter. Jacob marveled at his youthfulness.

  Esau, looking at Jacob, could scarcely believe how his brother had aged. Hair and beard had gone quite gray. Jacob was very thin, and he limped. But his eyes, which had been so small and prudent, now glared out of bony sockets with a wild visionary light. Esau felt those eyes looking through him and beyond him, and knew that within his brother’s meekness dwelt a weird power. And Esau shuddered as if a cold wind had touched him on this hot noon. He was not afraid; he had never known fear. But he was confused. For his twin brother, Jacob, had grown beyond his knowledge.

  Esau said: “Between us, brother, we own too many cattle for this country to feed. I shall drive my herds to the southeast, crossing the river again, even into the red hills of Edom. And you stay here in Canaan. Graze your herds and flocks here in this land that our father gave you.”

  And Jacob knew that his brother spoke wisely; that their newfound friendship would flourish best if there was distance between them. “So be it,” he said.

  They embraced again. Esau’s men gathered the gift of cattle into one herd, and the brothers parted.

  Jacob’s Daughter

  Jacob journeyed westward from the river to a wide grazing land. There he built a house and made booths of leafy branches to shelter his cattle against the sun. Thereafter the place was called Succoth, or “booths.”

  He journeyed onward and encamped before a city called Shalem, which was the chief city of Hamor, king of a powerful tribe called the Hivites. Hamor’s eldest son was a tall youth named Shechem, and he was a prince in Canaan.

  Dinah, Leah’s youngest child, and Jacob’s only daughter, met Shechem in the field beyond the city gate
s. Now, Dinah was just budding into womanhood. She was more like Rachel than like her mother. She was supple as a young willow, fleet-footed, and of quick laughter. She helped her brothers drive the sheep. She delighted to follow the flock, carrying a staff and attended by dogs. Being the only girl among eleven boys, she had grown willful as a princess. And when she met the young prince Shechem in the field in the purple light of dusk, they came together as naturally as two young trees bending toward each other in a gale of wind. They lay together there in the spring furrows, and their love was like a spring torrent.

  The next morning Shechem went to his father and said: “Father, I love a daughter of those strangers from the east who have pitched their tents beyond our gates. I want her and no other as my wife. Please go to her father and get her for me.”

  Hamor, king of the Hivites, went to Jacob and spoke to him, telling him of the prince’s love for Dinah. Jacob called Dinah to him and spoke to her privately. He understood from her answers that she had already lain with this man in the field. Jacob was angered. But he spoke to Hamor courteously, saying that first he would speak with his sons concerning this marriage, and then he would return his answer. Hamor departed.

  Then Jacob called Dinah’s elder brothers from the field, those sons of Leah who were old enough to consult. They were Reuben, Simeon, Levi, and Judah. Now, Simeon and Levi were angered by this tale, and Simeon said: “Levi and I are nearest to Dinah in spirit, and know her ways best. She drives the sheep with us, and spends her days with us, and we love her. Therefore, Father, let us be your spokesmen in this matter, and do what has to be done. We will stand in your stead and do as you would wish in all things.”

  Reuben and Judah agreed, and Simeon and Levi went to seek their sister’s lover. These brothers were fierce-hearted young men, full of Damascus pride, who looked upon the Canaanites as savages. They were bitterly displeased by what their sister had done, but they showed nothing. They found Shechem walking in the field with Dinah. “Go to your mother,” said Simeon. “We would speak with this young man concerning your marriage, and we must speak with him alone.”