The Sons of Isaac Read online

  “No, there are no plans for my son to marry an Egyptian princess.”

  “Do you have plans for him to marry within your family, or perhaps the daughter of a friend?”

  “We are making such plans concerning my family.” Abraham felt trapped. He could see clearly where things were going and he had no way of stopping them.

  The steward didn’t seem to hear the hint. “Well, if he is not yet betrothed to anyone, my news will certainly find a ready welcome.” Slowly and deliberately, the steward wiped his hands on the scented towel held for him by one of the young servants, waved aside the tray holding the date cakes, and turned to face Abraham. “My lord,” he said, “you will be delighted to hear the king has found that his daughter Anatah favors the young Isaac. She has had many suitors but now insists she wants only your son.” He leaned back among the cushions and smiled. He was relaxed and confident as he waited to get some reaction from Abraham.

  “I’m aware of the mutual attraction that exists between the princess and my son,” Abraham said slowly and deliberately as he struggled to find words that would not offend the king’s messenger but would put an end to the matter.

  Thinking that Abraham was waiting for more information, the steward continued, “There are only a few very minor conditions that must be agreed to first.”

  “Minor conditions?” Abraham said, frowning.

  “Yes, they are very minor but important to the king.”

  “And …” Abraham said as he struggled to remain calm.

  “Any king would require the same.” He took the scroll from the scribe and unrolled it. “You will see the first is simply that his daughter and her husband must remain in the city of Gerar. It is quite obvious that the young man must become a part of the royal household. He must worship our gods and would be expected to pledge himself to defend the king at all times. If these simple conditions can be agreed upon, it will bind your two families closer together and make these young people very happy.”

  Abraham’s worst fears had come to pass. He dared not offend the king’s steward, and yet the conditions were impossible. How could Isaac, the son of promise, marry a foreign princess? Furthermore it was unthinkable that he become a part of the worship and the family of the king. “I am greatly honored,” he said. “The king’s daughter is a great prize. To be a part of the king’s household is also a very great honor.”

  The steward smiled. “Then it is all very simple. I’ve brought the king’s scribe with me, and the agreement that must be signed. It can all be done very easily.”

  The scribe’s aides had quickly placed the small stand in front of Abraham with the reeds all laid out ready for the signing.

  Abraham was appalled. He saw that there was going to be no easy way out of the dilemma. He must do something that was entirely contrary to his very nature; he must be strong and resolute even if it offended the king. “My friend,” he said, “as much as I admire the king, this marriage can never take place.”

  The steward was shocked. “What do you mean? This is a great honor for you and your family. How can it be refused?”

  “I am well aware of the honor. I wish it were possible to accept, but I must be honest, this marriage can never take place.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence and then the scribe backed off with a look of scorn. He snapped the scroll back into its case, gathered up the reeds and the stand, and then retreated to the waiting retainers. The steward stood to his feet. “The princess is very desirable,” he said as his mouth twisted into a sneer. “She has other suitors who will be glad to hear that your son no longer stands in their way.”

  “I have no doubt this is true,” Abraham said, standing. “It’s not that the princess is not desirable or that the king’s offer is not generous. It’s because of our faith and commitment to the creator God we call Elohim. He is the one who governs our lives and makes such an agreement impossible.”

  It was obvious the steward did not understand. He motioned for his chariot and then turned back to Abraham. “You must realize that we also worship the creator God. It’s just that we worship the other gods too.”

  “Ah yes,” Abraham said, “I remember. When the old king took my wife into his harem, it was the creator God who warned him in a dream.”

  For a few moments the steward stood and thought about all that had been said. Then turning to Abraham with a stern, forbidding look, he said, “It would be better for you to leave this god if He spoils such opportunities. That is what most of us do.”

  As the chariot of the king’s steward disappeared in a cloud of dust and his retainers followed with their half-running march, Abraham sank back among the cushions and mopped his brow. “Eleazar,” he said at last, “I hope I never have to do a harder thing.”

  Eleazar sat down beside him, obviously very thoughtful. When he spoke it was with foreboding. “You still have an even harder thing before you. I know you well, and to tell Isaac the news will be most difficult.” Abraham did not answer but Eleazar noticed that his face turned pale and his eyes registered the pain that he felt.

  * * *

  Isaac found his father still sitting where the king’s steward had left him. Eleazar was beside him and the half-eaten trays of dried fruit and sweet cakes were stacked over on the side. Abraham stood and Isaac came and kissed his hand and embraced him. “My father,” he said, “I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble.”

  “I wish there could have been some other choice,” Abraham said.

  “The goatherder Zeb came and told me everything,” Isaac said. “I wish I had been here. Perhaps then things would have been different.”

  “I know how disappointed you are. We must understand that to the king his terms were not difficult. They were to be expected.”

  “How will I ever find a bride? Most fathers will have terms that would not be pleasing to Elohim.”

  “Ah, my son, that is where we have failed. We should have asked Elohim to find the right bride for you.”

  Isaac sat down where his father had motioned. He was obviously puzzled. He didn’t understand how such a thing could be done.

  “I have been thinking,” Abraham said, “and I have already talked to Eleazar. We both feel the right bride will be found among our own people in Haran.”

  “But that is very far away,” Isaac said.

  Abraham didn’t answer. The silence was broken only by the sound of dried thistles snapping in the fire and the lonesome cooing of a pair of doves in the nearby hedge.

  “As you know,” he said finally, “I have another son, a firstborn son, and I may have many more sons, but you are the son of promise. You will inherit both the blessing and the birthright, and those that come from you will in turn inherit the promise and the blessing. This is a great privilege and a great responsibility. You cannot marry a Canaanite or an Egyptian as Ishmael did. You are the chosen one, the son of the promise, and there are choices you cannot make.”

  “And do we know there is going to be someone in Haran for me?” Isaac asked.

  “No, we only know that some time ago, before your mother’s death, a merchant brought news that Nahor had a large family. Certainly any woman who is of age will be promised to someone, but there may be a young woman who hasn’t been spoken for. We must also realize that even if she is unmarried, she may not agree to travel so far to marry someone she doesn’t know. We are trusting Elohim to lead us.”

  There was a long moment of silence and then Isaac asked, “So what do we do now?”

  “It takes a wise man to observe and choose quality. Eleazar is such a man. He is also a man who listens closely for guidance from Elohim just as I do. He will choose the very best for you.”

  “I suppose this is one of those times when you will remind us that God will provide.” He said it with respect but there was a bit of an edge to his voice.

  Abraham didn’t see his face or respond to the tone of his voice. Instead he was simply pleased. He had not known whether Isaac would r
emember the words Elohim had given him the day he left for Mount Moriah, thinking he must sacrifice his son.

  “It’s true, my son,” he said, “and what our God gives is always the very best.”

  There was again silence as each thought of all this might mean to them. “Well,” Isaac said finally, “I suppose the choice I would have made seems very foolish to you, but you have not seen Anatah.”

  Abraham was already planning the venture and he did not hear the lack of enthusiasm in his son’s voice. “Within the week Eleazar will leave for Haran,” he said. “It will take that long to prepare the camels and arrange for gifts for my family and the young maiden.”

  Isaac found it hard to be excited about the venture. He had many questions that no one seemed to be answering. What father would willingly let his daughter travel so far from home, and what young woman would agree to go with a complete stranger? Also, if she is very attractive, she will already be promised to someone. Though he did not express his reservations, he was not satisfied that Eleazar would be able to choose the right bride for him.

  Finally he gleaned some comfort from a conversation he chanced to overhear between his father and Eleazar. “The Lord God of heaven,” Abraham said, “which took me from my father’s house; which swear unto me saying, ‘unto your seed will I give this land,’ He will send an angel before you. The angel will guide you to the right one and will have prepared her heart to come with you.”

  How strange this was. Elohim, the Creator of the whole earth and sky and creatures and fish and fowl, cared enough about him to actually send an angel to guide Eleazar. He was immediately curious to know what sort of woman this would be. What woman would the angel lead Eleazar to, and how would he know it was the right one?

  * * *

  Later that night Abraham made another difficult decision. It would be impossible under the circumstances for them to spend so much time in the city of Gerar and to continue such close ties with the king. They must move again, and this time farther into the Negev, where they would not be expected to participate in the life of any of the cities. “We will move to the region of the well at La-hai-roi,” he said aloud.

  The name had been given the well after Hagar had met the angel there. “The well of the living God who sees me,” it had been called. It was on the way to Shur and in the midst of a desert region where they would encounter only merchants and travelers going to and from Egypt. As soon as Eleazar leaves I will send to have the house in Gerar closed and give the order to move our camp. This will help Isaac forget the princess and will keep any new bride from being influenced by the temptations of the city.

  * * *

  In the palace in Gerar, Anatah was furious with her father and the clay goddess. She felt they had both failed her. Isaac had wanted her as much as she had wanted him. What had gone wrong? She was too proud to show her disappointment before her father and his court, but she was not too proud to confront the goddess who had cruelly tricked her.

  She made her way to the small garden near the quiet pool just at moonrise when the court of the women was quiet and everyone was supposed to be asleep. A mist hung in the air; the leaves of the small trees were already wet with the evening dew. Just as she reached the niche where the goddess stood, she broke off a branch from the olive tree nearby. With a few swift movements, she soundly thrashed the stone figure. “That will show you,” she whispered. “You have totally failed me and I won’t forget it.”

  She was so angry she wanted to do something that would hurt the cool, silent goddess that seemed to sit unmoved by her pain. “I hate you,” she said. “You have no shame. It’s because of their God they call Elohim that Isaac won’t marry me. Doesn’t that burn your ears?”

  She stood gazing at the image and it infuriated her that it seemed so calm and confident. She had trusted it so completely. It had never occurred to her that it could fail her.

  She sat down on the bench beside the pool and tried to think. Perhaps the clay goddess may not have totally failed. Where will the family of Isaac ever find another bride for him? He can’t marry any of the shepherd folk and his father has been at a loss to find a bride for him all these years. Why would they think that now it will be any different? She smiled. “The goddess may win yet. I may not have lost him if there is no one else available.” With that she went to the image and twisted the olive branch into a crown around her head. “Forgive me, oh wise one,” she said. “You may yet have other means to bring about my desire.”

  With that assurance, she went to bed and slept soundly. Isaac must surely be hers soon.

  It took fifteen days for Eleazar to prepare the camels, round up the supplies, and consult on the best route to take for the journey. During this time Abraham was restless and thoughtful. He remembered vividly how his brother had acted the last time he had seen him. Nahor had been totally against his leaving Haran, had accused him of breaking up the family, deserting his father’s grave, and making it impossible for their family to continue in their lucrative trading enterprises. Abraham wondered if he had changed. More to the point, would he let anyone from his family go off with a stranger to marry the son of this brother who had so disappointed him?

  He paced back and forth, keeping within the bounds of the tent’s deep shadow as he pondered the intricacies of the situation. This was the strange part of the whole thing. He was making all these plans and sending his steward on this long journey and he had no real assurance there was a suitable maiden available. He had only the nudging feeling when he prayed that this was what he should do.

  I must send the ring with the family emblem on it so my brother will know Eleazar comes at my bidding, he thought as he turned the ring on his finger and pondered the difficulties. For a brief moment he considered sending Isaac so they could see the fine lad and be more sure to approve a marriage.

  “No, I must not do that,” he muttered. “Nahor has always been crafty and it would be just like him to keep him there. He’d let him marry one of their young maidens but would insist on his staying and working for him. No,” he concluded, “the lad stays here.”

  Next Abraham began to fear that Nahor might convince Eleazar to take a bride from the local women. He was totally capable of hiding any relatives and offering some other young woman instead. He would not easily be willing to part with anyone from his own family. Abraham wondered how he could keep Eleazar from falling for such a ruse.

  If he insisted that Eleazar take a strong oath to propose marriage only to someone from the family of old Terah, this should work. Oaths were respected in every country and among all people.

  There were many ways of making an oath binding, but an oath taken on the honor of one’s ancestors and one’s descendants was the most binding. To place the hand under the thigh invoked both groups as witnesses and guardians. It was just this sort of oath Abraham had in mind.

  Just as he was mulling over these problems, Eleazar appeared around the side of the tent. “My lord,” he said, “the camels are being groomed for the trip, and early tomorrow morning we will load them and start out for Haran.”

  “Come sit with me,” Abraham said. “There is much to be discussed.”

  “Yes,” Eleazar said as he went into the tent and sat down in the place Abraham had indicated. “I hope my journey to Haran is successful. It has occurred to me that even if I find the girl and she meets all our requirements, she may not agree to come with me. Should I offer to bring Isaac to Haran?”

  “No,” Abraham said quickly. “If she will not come, you are free from any responsibility, but do not consent to take my son to Haran.”

  Now to make the agreement binding, Abraham called witnesses and Eleazar put his hand under Abraham’s thigh and swore to abide by all Abraham’s instructions.

  * * *

  The next morning, long before dawn, Eleazar assembled his entourage. He took ten camels loaded with provisions for the trip and with presents for Abraham’s family in Haran. The journey had been carefully planned. T
he first goal was to reach the wells at Beersheba before the heat of the day, and then the next evening travel on to Hebron. From there they would discuss with other travelers whether to go down to Jericho or travel up the central ridge to the fords of the Jordan.

  Many routes led to Damascus and they must determine which were the safest and best for them. From Damascus to Haran they must again gather information from fellow travelers. It was a long and tiresome journey but comparatively safe since most of the area was under Egyptian control.

  Before they left, Abraham appeared out of the shadows of his tent leaning on Isaac’s arm. “I must speak a final blessing on your journey,” he said.

  At that Eleazar gathered the camel drivers, guards, and general servants to come and stand before Abraham. It was like many other mornings but strangely different. The moon had not set and the east was still dark beyond the jagged mountains of the wilderness of Zin. The brook Besor with its narrow band of oleanders and reeds was dank and mysterious with the rising mist. The nesting birds and small animals that lived along its banks were not yet awake.

  It was a magical time and they were all caught up in the romantic purpose of their journey. This time it was not for trade or adventure but to find a young woman and bring her back as a bride for Abraham’s handsome son. None of them knew if such a woman existed. After all their effort and struggle, the journey could prove futile. To any thoughtful man it would seem foolishness. The dream of the old man who stood before them spurred them on. To him it was all-important and so they must go and do their best.

  Abraham must have sensed some of their doubts because he again reminded them, “The Lord God of heaven, which took me from my father’s house and from the land of my kindred, and which spoke to me saying, ‘unto your seed I will give this land’; He shall send His angel before you and you shall take a wife for my son from there.” The steady look in his eyes and the firm assurance in his voice gave them confidence. However, their ultimate comfort during difficulties on the road would come from his reminder that an angel would go before them to prepare the way.