“Did whose wife do what?”
“If Enoch walked with God, did God also walk with Enoch’s wife? Or did she have to stay away, like when men are eating? Was she unworthy?”
Jacob spun the scroll around to face himself and began reading quickly, moving his lips a little in a sort of whispered commentary but saying no clear words out loud. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “But it never says that when Zion was taken up to heaven, Enoch’s wife was unworthy and got left behind. So I imagine she must have walked with God, too.”
“So she was holy?” said Leah.
“She might have been,” said Jacob. “She must have been. All the people of Zion were.”
“So a woman can be holy,” Leah insisted.
“Righteous women are taken into heaven,” said Jacob, “to dwell with the Lord, as are righteous men. So of course a woman can be holy.”
“And the Lord can speak to her, and she can write down his words, the way Enoch did, and her book will be preserved as part of the birthright?”
Jacob looked nonplussed. “I’ve read the scrolls, and there aren’t any written by a woman.”
At this, Bilhah chimed in. “So if I copy over this book onto a new scroll, I’ll be the first woman to write a holy book?”
Why couldn’t Bilhah stay out of conversations she clearly didn’t understand?
But Jacob answered her patiently. “You might be the first to copy it, though I don’t know that for certain. Copying a book isn’t the same as writing one.”
“But can I try?” asked Bilhah. “If I learn to write neatly enough?”
“Perhaps you’d best read the words of this book, before you begin to write a copy of your own.”
Leah’s patience with Bilhah’s digression ran out. “This isn’t for you to become a scribe or a holy woman. It’s so I can learn the words of God.”
“Learning the words of God,” said Jacob, “is the beginning of holiness, and the desire to hear his words shows that there’s already a love of holiness in your heart.” He turned the scroll back around. “Read to us, Bilhah.”
She began to read. If she was slower at reading than Jacob, Leah couldn’t tell. She tried not to be irritated at how easily and well Bilhah could read, when just making out the letters was still so hard for Leah.
But this was the word of God. This was what Leah had worked so hard to be able to hear. What was the Lord going to say to her? It might be Bilhah’s voice, and Bilhah’s skill, but what she read was God’s word to Leah.
It was the story of how Enoch was taking a journey, and Wisdom came suddenly upon him, and he heard a voice from heaven, calling him by name, saying, “My son,” and commanding him to prophesy to the people and call them to repentance, “For my fierce anger is kindled against them.”
Leah knew at once that this was why her life was so hard: The fierce anger of the Lord was kindled against her. She couldn’t keep a tear from spilling from one eye.
“Leah,” said Jacob. “Why are you crying?”
She knew he would insist that this was not what the scripture was saying—that it wasn’t talking to her specifically. She didn’t want to waste time listening to him reassure her. “My eye hurts.”
“You’re not a good liar,” said Jacob, “so you shouldn’t try.”
“I’m crying because I realize the Lord’s anger is kindled against me.”
“It was the people of Enoch’s day who were wicked, not you.”
“But this is what the voice of God says,” said Leah.
“Not to you,” said Jacob. “The Lord was talking to Enoch.”
“He was talking about the people who needed to repent. That includes me.”
Jacob hesitated.
Bilhah began her chirpy answer. “It’s about what God said to the prophets, and then what they did—”
But Leah wasn’t going to get her instruction in the word of God from a girl who was only hearing the words herself for the first time today. “Bilhah,” she said, “when you write your own book, you can explain it to people. I’m saying that when I heard those words, I knew that this was what God wanted me to hear.”
“I can’t argue with that,” said Jacob. “Though I don’t know just what sin might be so terrible as to kindle God’s anger against you. These people were so wicked that in the time of Enoch’s great-grandson, Noah, the Lord drowned most of them in a great flood.”
“I’m not that wicked,” said Leah. “So all the Lord has done to me, in his anger, was make me blind.”
“You’re not blind,” said Jacob. “You’re tender-eyed. And you were born that way. Exactly what sin do you think you committed in the womb?”
“The Lord knew what a wicked, selfish girl I would be.”
“So you think all the blind and crippled and deaf people are sinful and God is angry at them, and all the people with perfectly good arms and legs and eyes and ears are righteous? Let me tell you a secret, Leah. Most of the strong and healthy people in the world are sinners, too, and some of them are far greater sinners than you.”
Again tears slipped out of Leah’s eyes despite her keeping them tightly shut. “How do you know that?” she whispered. “How do you know my sins aren’t as great as anyone’s?”
“Well, for one thing, you haven’t killed anybody,” said Jacob. “That’s the worst sin there is, to murder somebody, and you’ve never done that, and a lot of the people who have are completely sound of body.”
“Maybe the only reason I haven’t killed anybody is because I can’t see well enough to do it,” said Leah. “Maybe the Lord made me this way to keep me from sinning.”
Jacob shook his head. “Then if he were merciful he’d make us all blind, to keep us from sin.”
Did he have to have an answer for everything? It made her so angry that she couldn’t just say something and not have it contradicted so quickly and easily.
And then she realized that her anger was unfair. And that was precisely the sin that her blindness caused her to commit.
“No, you’re right,” said Leah. “I’ve sinned against God many times. I’m selfish and resentful and angry all the time, even against people who haven’t done me any harm. And when I’m irritated, I snap at people and make them feel bad when they don’t deserve it. I know that all the women in camp think I’m awful and they have as little to do with me as they can. That’s why Bilhah got stuck with me—she was the new girl, and didn’t know how awful it is to be with me.”
“It’s not awful,” said Bilhah.
“Oh, you ran away that time because you loved me so much.”
“I didn’t run away,” said Bilhah. “I’m not a slave. I’m a free girl, and I decided to go home.”
“You know,” said Jacob, “We’ve only just begun to read together. At this rate you’ll never even hear the end of Enoch’s book, let alone read any of the others.”
“See?” said Leah. “I’m so selfish I’d rather talk about my selfishness than to hear the word of God. I might as well give up right now.”
“But let’s not give up,” said Jacob.
“You still haven’t answered Leah’s question,” said Bilhah. “About why she’s tender-eyed, if it’s not because God is angry with her. And then what you said, about all the people who commit terrible sins and God doesn’t punish them at all. You’d think he’d make them all lepers, at least.”
This time Bilhah’s question was one Leah wanted to hear the answer to.
“We don’t see the Lord punish people, most of the time,” said Jacob.
“Well, what kind of parent is he, then?” said Leah. “How do children learn, if they aren’t punished when they do wrong?”
“They are punished,” said Jacob. “Just not always in obvious ways. When you’re wicked, then Wisdom departs from you. You become more and more like an animal—like the baboons of the wilderness, or like a jackal. But when you’re righteous, Wisdom dwells with you like a dear friend, and whispers always in your ear.”
&nbs
p; “Is that how it is with you?” asked Leah.
“I sometimes hear the voice of Wisdom,” said Jacob. “Like right now, with your questions, and Bilhah’s. I didn’t know the answer when you asked. But because you needed to know the answer, I think the words I said were given to me by the Wisdom of the Lord. Because even though I never thought of them before, when I said them aloud to you I knew that they were true, and I knew that you knew they were true.”
“But I don’t really understand them.”
“But you know they came from God.”
“I don’t even know that,” said Leah. “How would I know? But if you say they did, then I’ll trust your word.”
Bilhah spoke up again. “So what about the bad things that happen to people? If they aren’t the punishment of God, what are they?”
“They’re just … life. Things happen in life. A child is born with tender eyes. A man is crushed to death against a wall. While another man has to flee from his home because he’s been given the birthright blessing that his older brother expected to receive, and he doesn’t want to fight with his brother. Are these things all the plan of God? Maybe. But they don’t happen because God is angry with us. They happen because God wants us to find out what kind of people we are. When everything is going well, then it’s easy to be nice to people and obey the commandments of God. When things are hard to bear, that’s when we’re tested.”
“So people who are leading happy lives, God doesn’t love them enough to test them?” Leah couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice.
“For some people, a happy life is the test. They think they’re powerful and important and they begin to mistreat their servants and force other people to do what they want. Maybe no matter what kind of life you have, you still have plenty of chances to show how righteous or unrighteous you are.”
“Are these words the Wisdom of the Lord again?” asked Leah.
“No, they’re just the foolishness of Jacob, telling you what I’ve figured out on my own as best I can.”
“Good,” said Leah, “because I think that would make life meaningless. Sometimes the only thing that makes me feel like it’s worth going on with my life is the thought that God is master of everything. If he just lets things happen willy nilly, and none of it means anything, then why should I care anymore what I do?”
“But it means everything,” said Jacob. “He cares what we do, even if he doesn’t decide what things happen to us from day to day.”
“Maybe Bilhah had better read some more,” said Leah.
Jacob waited a moment before answering, and with Leah’s ability to notice tiny details of breathing and posture and intonation, she knew that he was frustrated with her; his exasperation was obvious to her in his voice, as he asked Bilhah to read again.
The words she read told how Enoch at first tried to get out of crying repentance to the people, because he was young and stammered when he talked. “Nobody has the patience to hear me say anything,” Enoch said.
But the Lord knew his real fear—that he’d be killed for offending the rich and powerful sinners of the world. They already killed people all the time—what would stop them from killing him, especially when his words would be so offensive to them?
So the Lord assured him that they wouldn’t have the power to kill him, and God would give him the words to say. “Open your mouth, and it will be filled,” the Lord told him. “For all flesh is in my hands and I will do whatever I see is good.”
“There,” said Leah. “All flesh is in my hands. You were wrong.”
Bilhah stopped reading.
Jacob’s exasperation was obvious. “I never said we weren’t all in God’s hands.”
“You said that he didn’t decide what was going to happen to us from day to day, but he says we’re in his hands.”
“You take that to mean one thing, and I take it to mean another.”
“But what it says is perfectly plain,” said Leah.
“That’s what I think, too,” said Jacob. “And yet for all its plainness, we disagree completely about what he means when he says we’re in his hands.”
“Jacob’s a holy man,” Bilhah whispered. “God gave him the books.”
“I’m listening to the words of God,” said Leah. “God is holier than any man.”
Jacob laughed. “Well, this is good. I think I’m right, and you think you’re right, but the main thing is, we both trust that the Lord is right.”
Leah thought that it mattered a great deal which of them was right, but she held her tongue.
Jacob nodded to Bilhah. She read aloud the great promise the Lord made to Enoch: “My Wisdom is upon you, and so I will make all your words come true. The mountains will flee before you, the rivers will turn from their course. You will dwell in me, and I in you. So walk with me.”
As she listened, the promises at first sounded very remote to Leah. What good would it actually do to go around moving mountains and shifting rivers? And what about the sheep grazing on the mountain? Or the fish in the river? Would they get moved, too?
But those last four words—“So walk with me”—rang in her heart as if Bilhah had shouted them.
She realized that this must be what it felt like to have Wisdom tell her that certain words in the scripture were meant for her.
Walk with me. But God wasn’t here. She couldn’t walk with him anywhere. She had to walk with Bilhah or some other person leading her. What did God mean by making these words stand out to her? How could she obey him, if he was commanding her to do something impossible?
She realized that Bilhah had stopped reading. “Go on,” she said.
Bilhah glanced at Jacob.
“I asked her to stop,” said Jacob. “When you suddenly knelt upright and held your breath for a moment. I thought you meant to speak.”
“No, no,” said Leah. “I just … for a moment I had to think.” She didn’t know why she was so reluctant to tell him what had just happened.
“Should we go on now?” asked Jacob.
“Please.”
“Read again, fair Bilhah,” said Jacob.
Bilhah read the next thing that the Lord said to Enoch. “Smear your eyes with clay, and wash them, and you will see.”
Leah almost gasped at the shock of these words. You will see! Smear clay on your eyes, and wash them, and you’ll be able to see!
“Wait,” said Jacob. “Leah, the Lord doesn’t mean … Enoch could already see as men see. He was commanded to anoint his eyes in preparation for seeing visions of all the creations that God had made.”
“But it’s what I was looking for!” cried Leah.
“I thought you wanted to hear the words of the Lord,” said Jacob. “Not a magical cure for your eyes.”
“Why shouldn’t the Lord’s words be a cure for me?”
“The Lord’s word is meant to cure us all—but cure our souls, not our bodies.”
“Are you saying you don’t think God can heal me?” said Leah.
“I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t work.”
“Why are the holy books entrusted to a man who doesn’t even believe in them?”
Bilhah was shocked. “Leah!”
Jacob was very solemn as he began rolling up the book. “I think we’re done for today.”
“So because I don’t accept your interpretation of everything, you won’t let me hear any more of the book?” said Leah.
“I think that your anger and pride make it impossible for us to read any more today,” said Jacob. “When you’re ready to accept that not every word of scripture applies to you in exactly the way you desire it to, we’ll open up the books again.”
“In other words, when I agree to pretend to think you’re the only one wise enough to understand.”
“I don’t know what I’ve done or said that makes you think I deserve to have you speak to me so arrogantly,” said Jacob. “I’ve never spoken to you as proudly as you’ve just spoken to me. I ask only that you show me
as much respect as I show you.”
“I haven’t shown you disrespect,” said Leah. “You’ve shown me disrespect!”
Jacob had an answer ready to his lips, but he stopped himself from speaking for a long moment. Then he put the scroll back into its bag. “Please forgive me for my disrespect. It was unintentional.”
He got up and went back inside his tent.
Leah could not believe that he had walked away from her like that. “I didn’t want him to leave,” she said softly.
Bilhah said nothing.
Leah turned to her. “I should warn Rachel about the unreasonable husband she’s going to get.”
Bilhah looked at her steadily, and said nothing.
“Oh, I see, you think I was in the wrong, because women aren’t supposed to have opinions of their own and I should have given in immediately when he so rudely told me I couldn’t understand the scriptures even when the spirit of Wisdom told me that these words were meant for my ears!”
Bilhah smiled slightly.
“So you don’t believe me,” said Leah. “You think I’m lying, that God didn’t really speak to me in my heart.”
“I don’t think you’re lying,” said Bilhah.
“Then why didn’t you speak in my defense!”
Bilhah did not answer.
“Why don’t you answer me?”
“Because you’ll be angry.”
“I’m angry when you don’t answer me.”
“But at least then you have no words to hurl back at me.”
“Hurl back at you! You make me sound like a screaming nag!”
“You just hurled back at me the words ‘hurl back at me,’” Bilhah pointed out.
“And now you mock me.”
“No, I just answered your question.”
“What question?”
“Why I didn’t speak in your defense.”
“Because you’re disloyal and disrespectful!”
“Because when you’re angry no one can say even the mildest thing to you without your flying into a rage, like this one, for no reason that anyone else can figure out.”
“You call this no reason!”
“Hurling back the words ‘no reason.’”
Leah roared with rage and might have gotten up and stalked away, but at that moment Jacob came back out of the tent.
Rachel and Leah (Women of Genesis) Page 14