Now he stood before the altar he had built, and his mind went back to the times when God had spoken to him. This was the same country where God had met him and where he had seen the gate of heaven with angels going up and coming down the stairway. Of all the visits of the Most High, that had been the clearest, when God had been so real. But then during the many years that followed he’d had to struggle to keep himself reminded of the mighty promises he had received.
Jacob stepped forward and poured water over the altar and cried aloud, “O God, you are my God, and I love you!”
He prayed for a time, then took out a flagon of oil he had brought. As he poured it over the altar, the sun caught the oil and made it look like molten fire. Jacob stepped back and knelt down, putting his face on the ground. “You have kept your promise, O God. I left this land with nothing but a scrap in my hand, but I had your promise to multiply your blessings. And now, Lord, you have been faithful, and I bow before you and ask you for another blessing.”
As Jacob knelt there, God spoke to him in a simple, quiet way. He repeated the promise and reminded Jacob that his name was Israel and that out of him a nation would be born and kings would come forth from his loins. He reminded him that the very land that he gave to Abraham and Isaac would be his and his children’s.
Finally Jacob arose, and he felt a great joy. As he made his way back to the camp, his mind went forward, and he had something like a dream, although his eyes were wide open. He saw a teeming multitude of people, all his descendants, worshiping the God of Bethel. The God of all the earth—the Strong God. It was more than his mind could take in, that from him all peoples of the earth would be blessed, and as he rode along, he was humbled by the vision he had seen and by the promises of God.
For Rachel every day seemed interminable. They had reached the land of Bethel and had stopped at a place called Ephrath. Things had gone so hard with her, but now she knew her hour had come. She called out, and Jacob was by her side instantly. “The pains are beginning,” she panted. “The child is coming.”
Jacob instantly began to shout for the midwives.
They came at once, along with Leah and his concubines, and he was thrust out, as was customary, for men were not welcome during a woman’s travail. They had been careful to do their best for Rachel during the last few days. They had given her terrible-tasting medicines with a great deal of oil that made her ill. They included swine’s fat, fish, herbs, and unmentionable things. Each night an offering was placed at her head—although they did not mention this to Jacob. They believed that the greedy demons might take it and leave her alone. The bed she lay on was in the center of the tent, and when she began to cry aloud, unable to contain herself, the midwives smeared the sides of the bed with the blood of a freshly slain lamb.
Outside the tent Jacob paced frantically to and fro. Leah, Bilhah, and Zilpah came and went, and each time one came out Jacob would frantically ask her, “How is she?” seeking some encouraging words.
Bilhah wanted to give encouragement, but when Jacob grabbed her and demanded to know how Rachel was, she shook her head. “She’s very weak.”
Jacob could not be still. He was short-tempered, and even Dinah, who tried to comfort him, knew there was nothing anyone could say to him.
“She can’t die. She mustn’t die.” Jacob groaned this at first inwardly but finally began crying aloud and cared not that others heard it.
His cries mingled with the cries of Rachel. His were strong and agonized, while hers grew more and more feeble.
The anguish was more terrible than anything Rachel had known. Joseph’s birth had been hard but nothing like this! She bit her teeth together, but her fortitude did not help her. The pangs came now in great waves, and she knew that this time there would be no joy for her in the birth of this child.
She looked up at Leah, who stood upright and then at the midwives, and she begged for Jacob.
The midwife said, “It’s not fitting that a man should come into the tent during the birth.”
Rachel pleaded, but the tradition was too strong.
“It’s been going on for two days,” Jacob whispered. “O God, why do you not have mercy?”
Jacob had not slept or eaten, nor had many others in the camp. They all knew of the terrible birth pangs, and the whispers were, “She is too old to be having a child.”
Finally the tent fell silent, and as Jacob became conscious of the change, he saw Bilhah come out. She approached him, her face pale and wet with perspiration.
“The child has come,” she said. “It is a son.”
“And Rachel?” Jacob demanded. He searched her face for an answer and saw only that which he feared.
“She yet lives. Go quickly,” Bilhah whispered.
Jacob entered the tent. Leah was cleaning the child, but Jacob paid the newborn no heed. He went straight to Rachel and fell down beside her. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was open. His heart suddenly contracted, and then he saw her chest move slightly.
“Rachel,” he groaned. “Rachel, my Beloved Wife…”
Rachel slowly opened her eyes, and her lips moved, but Jacob could not hear her. He stroked her brow and begged her to speak to him, and then Leah brought the child and put him beside Rachel.
Rachel’s eyes were only half open, and Jacob knew that the end was near. He saw her look at the child and then she turned back to him. “He is…our son.”
“Yes,” Jacob groaned. He looked at the infant briefly but then turned back at once to Rachel.
“Call his name…Ben-Oni.”
The words were so faint that Jacob thought he had misunderstood. Ben-Oni meant “son of my trouble.”
“Yes, my Beloved Wife. His name shall be Benjamin, ‘son of my right hand.’”
Rachel arched her body then and reached out. She touched his face, and for one moment her eyes opened wide.
“I’ve always loved you,” she said, and her words were clear.
“And I have loved you, my Beloved Wife,” Jacob said, weeping.
And then Rachel’s eyes slowly closed, but she smiled as she left Jacob alone with his son.
“I think my father…I think he cannot live,” Dinah whispered.
Demetrius stood beside Dinah. They were watching Jacob, who stood over the grave in which he had put his Beloved Wife.
“I never saw a man suffer so. How he loved her,” Demetrius said quietly.
Dinah reached out and took Demetrius’s hand and said, “He will never be the same again.”
“I think you are right.”
“He was crippled in his hip after he wrestled with God, or the angel, but this hurt is in his heart. He limps physically now, but his heart will never heal.”
The two stood there clinging to each other as the sun went down, and Jacob finally knelt down and pressed himself against the earth, weeping and crying out, “Oh, Rachel…my Rachel!”
Chapter 38
“Another week and you will be my wife!” Demetrius exclaimed, picking up Dinah and swinging her around. “Then I will have you exactly where I want you!” He put her down, kissed her, and then smiled. “Back in my homeland wives know how to treat their husbands.”
Dinah’s eyes were dancing. It had been six months since the death of Rachel, and during that time she had given herself to comforting her father as best as she could. Now that she was to be a bride, however, she felt that her joy might overflow.
“And pray, how do wives behave in Minoa?”
“Well, they do everything for their husbands to make them comfortable,” Demetrius said with a stern face, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his seriousness. “They cook them all the best food and see that they are fed before they eat a bite. They bathe them so that they are not put to the trouble of it, wash their hair, and make sure that their every wish is granted.”
“I can hardly wait!” Dinah exclaimed. Then she burst out laughing. “I hope you don’t expect me to do that. And I don’t believe women in Minoa do that either.”
“Oh, I assure you. Our women know how to treat their men.”
The two were walking along in a grove of trees, and the sun filtered down through it. The breeze was cooling, and they spoke of foolish things as lovers will.
“I worry about Father,” Dinah said, and for a moment her face lost its gaiety. She shook her head and added, “I don’t think he’s smiled since Rachel died.”
“Only for you a few times.”
“I hate to go off and leave him.”
Demetrius stopped and turned her around. “Would you rather stay here, my dear?”
“No. We must go to your home. Your parents are grieving. We must let them know that their son is alive.”
“We will come back. I promise you.”
Dinah drew his head down and kissed him. Then she took his hand and they continued their walk.
Finally Demetrius said with some hesitation, “Has your father said anything to you about—” He broke off and did not seem inclined to continue.
Dinah had learned to know this man very well. “You mean about Bilhah and Reuben?”
“Yes. It must have been terrible for him.”
Dinah could not speak for a moment. She had always loved Reuben, who had been kind to her since she was a child. She knew he was a simple man but had not thought he was capable of such a thing as sleeping with his father’s concubine. They had been seen, and the matter was reported to Jacob. Of course, a thing like that would be gossiped about by everyone.
“Father only spoke of it one time, but his heart was broken.”
“What did he say, Dinah?”
“He said that Reuben had forfeited his birthright.”
Demetrius considered this, then shook his head. “That takes out your oldest three brothers. He’s always said that Simeon and Levi could never get the birthright because of their murderous acts at Shechem.”
Suddenly Demetrius regretted his words. He had promised never to mention Shechem again, but the words had just slipped out. However, when he turned he saw that Dinah had not reacted.
“Poor Reuben! I don’t think he realized what he was doing. He’s always had an affection for Bilhah, and it just got out of hand.”
“Do you think your father meant it?”
“Yes. He always means what he says.”
“Reuben, Simeon, and Levi—that leaves Judah as the next in line for the leadership of the family.”
“I think it will have to be that way.”
The two walked on silently, thinking about what had happened between Jacob’s oldest son and Bilhah.
“I can’t understand it,” Demetrius said finally. “I thought better of Bilhah.”
“She’s a very simple woman and very lonely. My father’s had nothing to do with her since the birth of her sons. That’s a long time for a woman to go without a man.”
“It came at a terrible time. Jacob lost Rachel—which almost destroyed him. In a sense he’s losing his only daughter too. Of course, he’s not really losing her, but it must seem so. And now his firstborn, in a sense, lost. Poor Jacob!”
Dinah did not answer for a few moments. She finally turned and said, “We mustn’t think of these things. In a week we’ll be married. Then we’ll be going to your home.”
“Yes,” Demetrius said. “We’ll do what we can to cheer your father in his great grief.”
The two turned and headed back toward the camp. Dinah grew more cheerful, and he took her hand as they talked about the upcoming wedding.
The bridal feast took place in the full moon of summer, and Jacob spared no expense. He had invited musicians from all over the country to play and a troop to dance. He had given commands to kill two bullocks and as many sheep as necessary to feed the guests. He had furnished Dinah with a beautiful wardrobe, and in truth the activities of the wedding seemed to have cheered him considerably. He was seen to smile and even to laugh now and then.
The time had come, and Dinah had donned her wedding garment. It was a beautiful garment indeed, the work of many hands and long labor. It was made of the palest blue, woven thin and fine as a breath of air. Over it was an outer gown with brilliant, glittering colors in gold and silver. The colors mingled white, purple, rose, and olive, and even black and white, all in beautifully done designs. Outside the tent the people were rejoicing and laughing as they had been for several days. They had eaten and drunk. The musicians had played on drums, harps, and cymbals, and now Dinah waited. Leah was beside her, fussing over her gown, and then Zilpah stepped inside and smiled as she spoke. “It’s time.”
Leah said, “Come, daughter, and greet your husband.”
Dinah rose and walked out of the tent. She saw her father standing there beside Demetrius, who was clothed in a pure white robe. His hair was carefully oiled and hung down his back, and his eyes seemed to devour her.
Dinah walked slowly toward the pair, and then when she stood before them, Jacob reached out and touched both their foreheads. Then he stepped between them and laid his hands upon them. “Embrace each other,” he said, “for you must be man and wife.”
This was only the beginning of the ceremonies, which were intricate and ornate. There were young boys with torches who came to sing, and women who performed a dance that was formal yet sensual.
Demetrius spoke his vows to Dinah, and she ardently gave him an answer.
Finally it was all done, and Jacob led the procession toward the wedding tent. Dinah’s hand was on the arm of Demetrius, and when her father pulled back the flap of the tent, she stepped inside, and Demetrius followed her.
Dinah and Demetrius stood quietly listening to the songs, and then the voices began to fade as the wedding party moved away.
Demetrius looked around the tent, for neither of them had seen the interior. Leah and Zilpah had decorated it, and now he said, “It’s a beautiful place.” The two moved over the thin carpet that had been put on the floor, and the bed was dressed with coverlets of pure silk.
Dinah could not speak, for her throat was full. Demetrius came to her then and lifted the veil, dropping it on the floor. He cupped her face in his hands and said simply, “I am your husband, and I love you dearly.”
These were words that Dinah needed to hear. She felt inadequate and a little frightened, for though she had heard talk, she did not know how to be a bride. Still, she put her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him, and diamonds were in her eyes. “I love you and pray that I will prove a good wife.”
Dinah awoke with a start. She was lying on her side, and when she opened her eyes, there was Demetrius’s face framed in her vision. She put out her hands for a moment, frightened at having a man in her bed, but then memory came swarming back.
Demetrius laughed quietly and reached out and caught her hands. His lips turned upward in a smile as he said, “Have you forgotten who I am already?”
The two laughed and giggled and talked foolishly and then finally she said, “When will we leave for Minoa?”
“In two weeks,” Demetrius said. He winked and added, “I think you’ll have me trained to be an obedient husband by then.”
“Don’t be foolish! How will we get there?”
“I expect we’d better go by ship. It would be a long swim for us.”
She laughed again and finally said quietly, “I love you, husband, and I always will.”
Demetrius kissed her. “You are a fine wife, and I love you dearly. And I promise to bring you back to this place when we have our first son.”
Chapter 39
“We’ve got to do something about Joseph,” Simeon said bitterly. He looked around at his brothers. They had met secretly out beyond the camp, and there was a furtive expression across the faces of most of them. “He’s nothing but a talebearer and it’s got to stop!”
Judah stared at Simeon and said loudly, “If you’d stay out of taverns and away from those Hittite prostitutes, you wouldn’t have to worry so much.”
“It’s none of your business what I do and certain
ly none of Joseph’s!”
“Well, you’re the one who called this meeting, and if you ask me, I think you’re the one who needs correction, not Joseph.”
Simeon had a violent temper and had always refused advice or counsel from anyone. Now he advanced toward Judah, his fists clenched and his eyes blazing. “You can’t talk to me like that, Judah! I’m your older brother.”
“That doesn’t make you right!”
“If you can’t do any better than that, then get out of here!” Simeon yelled.
Gad, the oldest son of Zilpah, stepped up. He had dark hair and brown eyes, and he also had a pronounced stutter. He could make anything with his hands but he struggled with words. “Simeon, d-d-d-don’t—” But as he labored to get the words out, Naphtali, Bilhah’s younger son, came to his aid, as he usually did. Naphtali had a badly scarred face. A fishhook-shaped scar—from a dog bite years ago—twisted his mouth to one side. He was a small, agile, and quick-witted man. “He’s trying to say that you’re wrong, Judah, and Simeon is right.”
Gad tugged at Naphtali. “N-nooo! Judah r-r-right.”
The argument raged, and finally Dan said bitterly, “Maybe I’ll just give Joseph a good thrashing.”
“You won’t do that,” Naphtali said. He turned then and said, “Reuben, you’ve got to talk to our father. You’re the oldest.”
Reuben, who towered by a head above all of his brothers, felt Naphtali’s eyes upon him, but he could not speak. He lowered his head, turned around, and walked off almost blindly.
“There’s no sense in talking to Reuben,” Levi said impatiently. “Ever since he slept with Bilhah, our father’s barely spoken to him. What a fool he was—and her too!”
The debate became more heated, and Judah tried for a time to calm his brothers down, some of whom were angry with Joseph. He finally shook his head and walked off, unable to bear the argument anymore.
The Gate of Heaven Page 33
