Till Shiloh Comes

by Gilbert, Morris

As the brothers made their way to the next field, they eyed Joseph with disgust. Dan looked over at him and muttered, “Well, the son of the True Wife has quit on us, I see.”

  Issachar laughed. “I’d do the same if I could get by with it, wouldn’t you?”

  “We could never get by with it,” Dan grunted. “Only the dreamer there can take off anytime he pleases.”

  Ignorant of their complaints, Joseph slept for several hours, and Reuben noticed more than once that the boy was twitching and his lips were moving. “Another one of his dreams, I’ll be bound,” he muttered, then went on with his work.

  Late in the afternoon when the work was done for the day, the men were sitting around talking about new methods of harvesting the barley. Levi had seen a new implement called a threshing table. It was drawn by oxen and had pointed stones on the underside that tore the ears open.

  “It’ll never work,” Reuben said. He hated changes and was against all of them.

  “Why wouldn’t it work?” Dan insisted. “Don’t be so stubborn, Reuben.”

  They argued back and forth peaceably enough until Joseph suddenly sat up. He looked around wildly for a moment; then a smile crossed his face. He got up and interrupted Issachar, who was putting in his views about new methods of harvesting.

  “Listen, my brothers, I must tell you something important. I’ve had a dream.”

  “Surprise—surprise! The dreamer has had a dream!” Simeon laughed harshly. “Away with you, dreamer! We want none of them here.”

  “But it’s such a beautiful dream.” Joseph was quiet only for a moment; then he interrupted again. “My brothers, listen. You must hear this.”

  “Let him tell us his silly dream,” Levi grunted, “or we’ll never have any peace. What is it, dreamer?”

  “I dreamed that all of us were together,” Joseph said, moving his hands to illustrate his words, “and we were harvesting grain.”

  “Oh, that’s a marvelous, wonderful dream!” Naphtali cried out. “Wonderful! That was no dream. That’s what we’re actually doing.”

  “No, but it was a different field in my dream. We were working together to bind the sheaves after cutting the stalks.”

  Gad scoffed, “That’s what we do, boy. Have you gone stupid? There’s no wonder in this dream.”

  “But this was so real,” Joseph said. If he had looked around and seen the frowns and sneers on the faces of his brothers, he would have held back, but his eyes were still dreamy and he said excitedly, “We were in a field, and all of us were binding sheaves.”

  “Even little Benjamin?” Judah asked moodily.

  “Yes, even Benjamin. So there were twelve sheaves.”

  “Twelve brothers and twelve sheaves. What’s so wonderful about that?” Zebulun cried out. “Away, dreamer!”

  But Joseph ignored them and went on. “Suddenly my sheaf rose up in the middle and the others gathered around in a circle. And you know what?” Joseph cried, his eyes flashing. “All of the eleven sheaves were bowing down to my sheaf, which was still upright in the center!”

  A cry of anger went up from the brothers. “Don’t you see how offensive this is?” Judah said roughly. “Are all your brothers to bow down to you?”

  “That is the worst dream I ever heard,” Gad shouted.

  Simeon jumped up and ran over to Joseph, along with several of the other brothers. They shouted at him, their faces red with anger. “So we’re to bow down to you! We’re your servants now, are we?” Simeon took Joseph’s arm and began to shake it while Zebulun grabbed the other arm, tossing Joseph in the air and hurling him to the ground. “We’ve heard enough of you, and we’ve seen enough of your coat!” Simeon shouted. “I’ll teach you what happens to little brothers with big heads!”

  Reuben suddenly appeared, pushing Simeon, Levi, and Gad back. “Leave him alone.”

  “You always defend him, Reuben!” Naphtali shouted. “Why do you do that?”

  “Never mind. Just leave him alone.”

  Reuben walked Joseph out of the circle, protecting him from any further attack.

  As the two disappeared, Levi snarled, “Reuben always takes up for that puppy, but I hate him.”

  “So do I,” Gad said. “Something’s going to happen to him someday that’ll take that pride right out of him.”

  Joseph was shaken by what had happened, and as Reuben dragged him away, he said, “What have I done? Why are they so angry?”

  Reuben waited until they were out of earshot of the others, then turned Joseph around and held him by the upper arm, his hands like vises. “You fool,” he said. “You’re so smart and so stupid at the same time. Can’t you see what an insult you’ve offered to all of us? You’re so much better than we are that our sheaves have to bow down to yours?”

  Joseph stood there dumbfounded, his eyes wide, for indeed he’d had no thought of how insulting his comments would be. When Reuben dropped his hands, Joseph said, “I’m sorry, Reuben. I didn’t mean to offend anyone.”

  “Joseph … Joseph, don’t you see? You’re filled up with pride, and for all your knowledge of numbers and stars and geography, you don’t know how offensive you are to your own brothers. Wake up out of your dreams and put them away from you.”

  Joseph tried to think as he watched Reuben walk away. He thought over the dream and finally murmured to himself, “But it was a real dream. Why are they so angry?” He shook his head and went away, knowing that the rest of the harvest would not be quite so pleasant for him.

  ****

  As Reuben related the incident of Joseph’s dream of the sheaves, Jacob’s heart seemed to shrink, and he could say nothing in response.

  After a moment of silence, Reuben said, “You should beat the boy, Father. I know you love him, and he’s the son of the True Wife, but you’re letting him ruin himself.”

  “He means no harm by retelling his dreams.”

  “He doesn’t know any better because you have never brought him up short. You had no trouble caning the rest of us when we misbehaved. Can’t you see that you’ve spoiled Joseph to the point where he has no sense of wrongdoing where the rest of us are concerned?”

  Jacob had no defense, but he persisted feebly. “The boy will grow out of these things.”

  “Do you believe in that dream? It can mean only one thing, Father—that he’s to be elevated among all your sons.”

  “Not all dreams are from God, Reuben.”

  “Do you think this one is?” Reuben demanded.

  “I can’t say. I will speak to the boy about it.”

  Reuben stared at his father hopelessly. “One day you will regret letting him run wild,” he said harshly, then turned and walked away.

  Jacob called after him, “Wait!” But Reuben did not even look around.

  Jacob held his hands together, his heart troubled, for he knew Reuben was right. He was an intelligent man and could see how Joseph had alienated his brothers. It was now the ten of them against the two sons of the True Wife, and the thought of where that might lead frightened him.

  ****

  It was logical that Joseph could not see what was happening, for he had grown up as the favorite of his old father, given his way at all times. Being born so much more intelligent than the rest of his brothers, perhaps it was inevitable that he would think of himself as a very special person. His education had reinforced this opinion, and Jacob’s favoritism had so saturated him that Joseph accepted it as his God-given right.

  It was only four days after the dream of the sheaves that Jacob came to watch his sons and servants work. He arrived in the morning and was greeted first by Joseph.

  “Good morning, Father. Does all go well with you?”

  “Yes, my son. How goes it with the crop?”

  “You see it is well. The best crop in years.”

  “Little thanks to you,” Gad muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for Jacob to catch it.

  Jacob ignored the comment, however, and allowed himself to be shown the harvest.
He spent the morning with his sons, and at noon they stopped to have a meal. For once things seemed to be going well. Jacob was pleased with the crop and said so. He had found a way to get around to each of the six red-eyed sons of Leah and the four Sons of the Maids and commend them, something he had never done before.

  Joseph watched with some impatience and finally piped up, “My father, I have had another dream you must hear.”

  “No, not now, my son,” Jacob said hastily.

  “But you must hear it,” Joseph cried. “It concerns all of you.”

  “Father, must we listen to this puppy and his interminable dreams?” Judah complained. “We’re sick of them!”

  “It would be better if you did not tell any more of your dreams,” Jacob warned.

  But Joseph was beyond correction. This dream was so like that of the sheaves he knew it must be of God. He began to move and twist in the peculiar way he had when he spoke of his dreams. “I dreamed,” he said, “that the sun and moon and eleven stars were around me in a circle, bowing down before me! It’s true.”

  Jacob could not move except for his eyes. He shifted his gaze around and saw the anger burning in the ten sons, Benjamin not being there. With all his heart he wished Joseph had not told such a thing. He could not blame his sons for being angry, for in truth it angered him as well. He could hear the gnashing of teeth, and finally he knew he had to say something. There was no defense against this sort of insolence, even for the son of the True Wife.

  “Boy, have you lost your mind? Your parents and your brothers are to bow down and worship you! I am shamed by such a dream! I will have no more of it!” It was the culmination of Joseph’s arrogance. Jacob’s anger woke him up to the realization of Joseph’s pride, and he felt terrible fear at the deadly hatred he saw in the faces of his sons. He knew that Levi and Simeon had butchered the Prince of Shechem without a moment’s thought. They were men of blood. Dan also had a fierce and ungovernable temper. There was no telling what these men would do to his lamb if he did not stop them.

  “Come, you shall be punished for this. I vow it!” He started away, grabbed Joseph by the arm, and pulled him after him.

  As the two left, Gad laughed harshly. “Punishment! He’ll never punish him. He never does.”

  “He’ll probably give him a stiff lecture and Joseph will laugh at it,” Simeon said. “Are we to put up with this, my brothers?”

  “We’ll have to put up with it no matter what,” Judah said, “because that’s just the way things are.”

  “Not if we do something to stop it,” Simeon said, his eyes redder than flame with his anger.

  The brothers stood there raving and shouting, some of them so angry they threw stones at trees and took sticks and broke them. Simeon and Levi seemed the most volatile, and finally Reuben tried to quiet them. “Don’t trouble yourselves,” he shouted over them, trying to calm them down. “This will pass away.”

  “Pass away! Why would it pass away?” Simeon screamed. “It’ll pass away when Joseph is dead, that’s when it will pass away!”

  “Don’t speak like that,” Reuben said, horrified because he feared the wrath of these brothers was being kindled to the point where murder was a very possible outcome. “Remember, he is our brother!”

  “He’s no brother of mine,” Issachar said bitterly. “He gets everything and we get nothing. I hate him!”

  A murmur went around, and Reuben’s eyes met Judah’s. Judah shook his head as if to say, There’s nothing we can do about it. Reuben’s shoulders drooped, for he knew Judah was right. He had a premonition of a terrible future. He was not a man of much imagination, but it did not require much to know that things could not go on like this without tragic consequences. He turned sadly and said, “Well, let’s get the rest of the crop harvested.”

  The men went to work, but they were sullen. Some of them continued to cry out against Joseph’s insolence, and their threats were more dire than ever.

  Chapter 5

  Benjamin tripped along happily beside Joseph, holding his hand, as usual, when they went out to the fields together. The sun was bright, and the desert flowers blooming. Although the heat was oppressive, Benjamin did not care, for he was with his beloved brother, Joseph.

  “Tell me about the dream again, brother.”

  Joseph looked down at Benjamin and smiled. His heart was always filled with love for his little brother. “Why, Benji, you’re the only one who wants to hear them.”

  “Oh, I can’t believe that.”

  “It’s true.” Joseph shrugged. “Our father has forbidden me to speak any more of my dreams.”

  “But why, Joseph?”

  “I can’t imagine. I know Father himself has dreams, and he has great faith in them. But he says it is bad for me to tell them to others, especially to my brothers.”

  “Even to me?”

  Joseph laughed and ruffled Benjamin’s hair. “Not you, Benji. I’ll tell you all of my dreams.”

  “Tell me of the ones again about the sheaves and the moon and the stars.”

  “I’ve told you a hundred times. You know them yourself.”

  “But it’s different when you tell them!”

  Not unwillingly, Joseph told the dreams again. He had nourished them, knowing somehow deep in his heart these dreams were central to his life. He could not press the interpretation too much, but he could see very well that it would take only one act on his father’s part to make them come true. He had said many times to himself, though never publicly, If my father would declare that the blessing of the firstborn would be given to me instead of to Reuben, then all my brothers would have to be obedient to me. They would bow down just as the sheaves did to my sheaf, and just as their stars did to me. He never voiced this, however, for he was beginning to understand how much danger there was in saying such things.

  Benjamin listened again, his face beaming, as Joseph related the dream; then he said, “I will bow down to you, my brother.”

  Joseph laughed, picked up the boy, and swung him around, holding him tightly in his arms. He kissed him and said, “I know you would. You are my true brother. Indeed you are.”

  Benjamin clung tightly to Joseph’s neck. Joseph had indeed become the center of his world. Young as he was, he was aware that there was a barrier between him and his father because his mother had lost her life bringing him into the world, and he felt great guilt for that.

  “Come along. Let’s hurry,” Joseph said. “We don’t want to get into trouble with Father again.”

  “No indeed! We must obey Father,” Benjamin said eagerly.

  The two spent a delightful afternoon wandering in the fields, and now the sun was approaching the horizon. Joseph suddenly stopped and pointed. “Look. There’s a caravan—traders, I see.”

  “Let’s go look at their goods,” Benjamin said, excited.

  “All right,” Joseph said. “We have no money, but we can look.”

  When the two brothers were about a hundred paces from the caravan, Benjamin said, “Look, there’s Levi.”

  Joseph stopped. “Yes, and there’s Simeon.”

  “Maybe we’d better not go there. They’ll tell Father.”

  “I’m not afraid of what Simeon and Levi would say. Father knows we’re spending the day together.” Nevertheless, despite these brave words, Joseph nodded. “Maybe you’re right, Benjamin. We’d better not continue.”

  “But let’s stay here and watch them awhile.”

  “All right,” Joseph said, and the two lingered at a distance. The caravan had obviously stopped for the day, and cooking fires sent smoke into the air in tall spirals. The smell of cooked meat made the boys hungry. They could hear singing and see some women dancing.

  “Look at those women. I’ve never seen dancing like that,” Benjamin said. “What is it, Joseph?”

  “It’s not a good thing for you to see.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because those women are harlots.”

  “What’s a har
lot?”

  “A bad woman that makes men do bad things.”

  “Oh, I know what that means. Like Elspeth did when she was gotten with child with Lomenie of Lomar?”

  “Yes. Like that.”

  Joseph watched, seemingly riveted to the scene. He saw the women dancing in their scanty costumes, and then he saw that Levi and Simeon were drinking heavily. “They need to get away from those women,” he said. “They’re bad for them.”

  Benjamin was struck silent by the scene and did not answer.

  Finally the two boys watched two of the women grab Simeon and Levi and pull them to their feet. They took them to two separate tents, and Joseph said abruptly, “Come along, Benjamin, we need to get away from here.”

  “All right, Joseph. This is a bad thing.”

  As they made their way back, Joseph was silent, and Benjamin looked up and asked, “Are you going to tell Father?”

  Joseph was lost in thought. “I think I’d better. He needs to know such things.”

  “They’ll get mad if we tell.”

  “You’re not going to tell. I am,” Joseph said. “It’s for their own good!”

  ****

  Leah was giving her sons Simeon and Levi a tongue-lashing that had all the bite of a scorpion. She was a woman with a sharp tongue anyway, and now as her sons stood before her, both married heads of households, they stood humbled like two boys caught stealing sugared dates.

  “You defile yourself with those harlots!” Leah screamed, her voice carrying over the entire camp. “Have you no shame! Both of you have good wives, and you defile yourselves. I’m the mother of fools!” Their mother struck them both and sent them out of her tent.

  Simeon turned to Levi and said, “It was that talebearer Joseph. He’s the one who brought the report to Father.”

  “We were fools,” Levi said heavily.

  “Maybe we were. I’ve learned one thing, though. If you’re going to sin, don’t do it in public.”

  ****

  The public shame of the two men was painful, and they blamed Joseph for telling on them. All ten of the brothers were absolutely furious at Joseph.

  Even Reuben could make no defense for Joseph. After all, he had also carried the evil report to Jacob of Reuben’s misbehavior with Bilhah, which was much worse. But still he kept silent as his brothers raved and shouted, angry to the core. He knew that the Sons of the Maids were just as angry, and he whispered to Judah, “Try to quiet them down. They’re crazy.”