Rebekah Redeemed Read online

  REBEKAH REDEEMED

  * * *

  Dianne G. Sagan

  Denton, Texas

  Buoy Up Press

  An imprint of AWOC.COM Publishing

  P.O. Box 2819

  Denton, TX 76202

  © 2009 by Dianne G. Sagan

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  ISBN: 978-0-937660-52-2

  To my daughters – Shelly, Elizabeth, and Natasha

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my husband Greg who is always supportive and encouraging. He is my best advisor and sounding board since he also is a writer.

  Our six children are my cheerleaders – Bryan, Natasha, Benjamin, Shelly, Brad, and Elizabeth.

  Rosemary, who believed in me and invited me to share my writing with her.

  I couldn’t do what I do without my research assistant. Thank you for your time and your valuable input, Elizabeth Chappel.

  Our friends Steve and Freddie Gens. They are always encouraging and a ready audience. Steve is a scholar and teaches Pentateuch and Torah classes in our community. He has been an irreplaceable source for my research into customs, Passover in the first century, and women’s roles in the ancient Jewish society.

  Thank you to my editor Daniel Case and everyone at AWOC.COM Publishing.

  Chapter 1

  Twilight blanketed the rocky Judean hills as Bethlehem’s residents settled in for the night. The village sat on a hill surrounded by grazing land. Small fires lit by isolated groups of shepherds dotted the landscape. Rebekah helped her father, Eleazar, pen the sheep and lambs. The sound of a wooden flute wafted across the hills, serenading the flock.

  After a long day, Eleazar, his daughter Rebekah, his friend Caleb and Caleb’s family sat around the fire and ate a simple soup made from warmed water and bread. They kept their flocks close together at night for safety, but they also enjoyed spending this time together to talk. Most of the shepherds around Bethlehem were brothers, cousins, uncles, and fathers. Their families enjoyed a closeness that came from sharing the hard lives of tending the sheep and defending themselves and their flocks.

  The men always shared stories and whispered about the oppression they felt under the Romans and their cruel, alien king, Herod. After finishing her soup Rebekah helped Caleb’s wife and daughters clean up, scrubbing the utensils with sand to save the precious water for the animals and themselves. She yawned and looked toward Eleazar who smiled at his young daughter. At six years old, Rebekah loved being in the fields with the sheep and spending time with her father, even though it was hard work.

  Rebekah snuggled up to a motherless lamb, pulled her tattered cloak over her and listened as her father and the other shepherds told familiar stories. They spoke of a night many years before when angels had appeared and proclaimed that a Deliverer had arrived, and they had run to see a new baby boy who had just been born in an animal pen. She’d heard the story many times but still found it captivating. Her father had been one of the young shepherds who bore witness to this incredible event.

  The familiar voices faded in her consciousness, her eyes closed, and she drifted into peaceful sleep knowing her father sat nearby. She dreamed of a bright star and a young mother with a new baby in her arms. Then the dreams mingled with memories of her own mother who had died a year ago in childbirth. Sometimes Rebekah still called out for her mother in her sleep.

  This night she slept silently but not peacefully. Struggling out of a dream about her mother and infant brother, the little girl forced her eyes open to see her father still talking to his clansmen. His soothing voice calmed her fears, and she soon drifted back into sleep.

  Eleazar was a changed man after the death of his wife and son. To Rebekah he seemed sad all the time. He didn’t smile or laugh as he had when she was younger. With the loss of his young wife, he only had Rebekah and the flock to anchor his life and give it meaning.

  One of the older shepherds told stories about the loss of his own son. Soon after the birth that the angels had announced, Herod’s solders had killed every boy under the age of two in Bethlehem in hopes of destroying the special child that the shepherds had seen. Almost every family in the village lost a child or grandchild to Herod’s insane jealousy.

  Later, in the early hours of the morning when it was still dark, Rebekah awoke to the sound of yelling and a beast growling—screeching. She tightened her hold on the lamb, with her heart pounding and eyes darting toward the noise, trying to see what was happening. Eleazar, Caleb, and the others grabbed their staves and ran to the sheep. The lioness attacked the animals and they scattered, bleating in terror.

  Eleazar reached the beast first and struck it heavily across the shoulders. In a flash, teeth and claws turned, tearing at his neck and ending his life so quickly Rebekah couldn’t comprehend what she saw. She screamed in horror and scrambled to her feet. Running to Eleazar, she drew close and fainted from shock.

  Sometime later Rebekah returned from the darkness and heard voices around her. She lay silently listening to Caleb, his wife and the other shepherds. Her heart ached.

  “Who will take her?”

  “I have enough mouths to feed.”

  “Her father and mother were our friends.”

  “Doesn’t Eleazar have any family?”

  “No. He never said he had anyone.”

  “I heard Miriam say that she had family in Bethany, but they disowned her when she married Eleazar.”

  “Rebekah must be sent to them.”

  “What if they won’t take her?”

  “We have to try.”

  Rebekah lay curled on her side, hugging her legs. She lay on hay in the back of the shallow cave the shepherds used as stables in cold weather. She felt deserted and alone. No one to love her. No one to protect her. The image of her father’s death played over and over in her mind. She couldn’t close her eyes without seeing the pool of blood, and she couldn’t open her eyes without feeling the sudden collapse of her world.

  A woman’s shadow fell across her. The little girl held back her tears and tightly closed her eyes. The woman gently shook her. “Wake up, child. You must eat,” she said, holding out a bowl of bread soup.

  Rebekah turned away without a word. She fell into a restless sleep and awoke once again to quiet voices around her. Dawn crept across the clear sky with pink and gold fingers reaching for the day.

  “Rebekah, get up. Caleb is taking you to your uncle’s house in Bethany,” the woman said. “You must be quick, now.”

  The little girl rubbed her red-rimmed eyes and blinked. She pulled her tattered cloak closer around herself and sat down near the fire. She shivered. Her blank eyes looked into the firelight. She felt numb.

  When the time came to leave, Caleb’s wife hugged Rebekah and sent the child with her husband to find Rebekah’s uncle. It would be his responsibility to care for the little girl. Families were supposed to be responsible for their brothers’ or sisters’ orphaned children. She felt pity for Rebekah, but she had children of her own to feed.

  Caleb and Rebekah walked the several miles to Bethany in silence. Rebekah followed him not knowing what would become of her. She just had her sixth birthday when the lambs were born. Tears left muddy tracks on her dusty face, dropped off her chin and disappeared on the road.

  Rebekah’s eyes glazed; she saw only the past. Her mother Miriam’s laughing eyes looked into Rebekah’s eyes with tenderness. Even though she had only b
een five when her mother died, she already knew how to grind the grain for bread. She would help her mother gather dried dung for the first fire of each day. Sometimes Miriam had told Rebekah stories of her own childhood in Bethany where she had enough to eat, brothers and sisters to play with, and a warm bed to sleep in every night. Her mother rarely spoke of her family’s feelings about Rebekah’s father, but the little girl had overheard the women talking. Rebekah’s parents had married against the wishes of Miriam’s parents at a time when marriages were arranged; but Miriam had been strong-willed and had run away to marry Eleazar. When Miriam’s family found out, they disowned her. Miriam’s brother Benjamin had come to see her once, when Rebekah was very small, but Rebekah had no memory of her uncle.

  After Miriam’s death, Eleazar kept Rebekah with him and taught her the ways of shepherds. They ate and slept in the fields like the sheep they tended, moving constantly by day to find fresh patches of grass and water, making a simple camp each night and huddling around a small fire if they could find wood to burn. She could still see her father standing in his earthy cloak, shawl over his head, the knotted ends moving gently in the breeze. Eleazar’s eyes watched over the flock of shaggy, long-eared sheep grazing on the fields below Bethlehem. Sometimes his eyes would drift up to the east of the village to the caves where he had first seen that special baby boy. It was a long time since that night. Eleazar was a gentle man to his family, a good steward of his sheep, brave in the face of danger and strong in his love of Jehovah. He had taught her the stories of her people around the campfire at night.

  Caleb interrupted her painful musings of a happier time when he pulled her to the side of the road.

  A harsh voice yelled at them, “Get out of the way!”

  Rebekah pushed her hair out of her face and looked around her. Roman soldiers tramped the road behind her. She half hid behind Caleb and peeked around at the spectacle.

  Others on the road hurried out of the way. One old man couldn’t get his donkey to move fast enough, and the mounted centurion waved two soldiers toward the man. They beat the man and hacked at the animal with their short swords. Then they returned to their ranks, and the Romans marched on over the bodies as if they were part of the stones.

  Caleb, Rebekah, and the other Jews watched in horror as their callous oppressors marched by on their way to Jerusalem. The centurions sneered down at the people from their horses. Rows of legionnaires, two abreast, followed until all 80 had passed the Jews standing at the side of the road. Each legionnaire wore a short red tunic, plumed helmet, scale armor consisting of iron plates in horizontal rows covering thick leather padding over their torsos. Leather laces held the armor in place. A short sword hung from a leather belt, and each carried two javelins and a curved, oblong shield almost as tall as the soldiers were. There was nothing to be gained from appealing to such men, and there was no point in challenging them except to share the fate of the old man.

  After the dust cleared from the passing soldiers, friends of the dead man wept as they took his remains from the road. Rebekah stood silent and wide-eyed, stomach churning, mouth dry. Caleb urged her on so they could reach Bethany before nightfall when robbers and thieves would roam the roads leading toward Jerusalem in search of easy prey.

  Rebekah felt sick at her future.

  Chapter 2

  The village of Bethany lay on the eastern slope of the Mount of Olives, just a few miles from Jerusalem. She had heard stories about the city but had never seen it or the Temple Mount even though it lay only ten miles from her home in Bethlehem. The land they walked through was hilly, with scattered olive trees, rocky soil, and tightly terraced hills around the area tended by farmers. On their way to Bethany they passed a large estate that lay not far outside the village. Tall wooden double gates opened into what looked like a large, walled complex. To Rebekah it looked almost as big as the whole village of Bethlehem.

  When Caleb and Rebekah arrived in Bethany the child felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Caleb looked to find the men near the village gate, but it was late in the day. He didn’t know where to find Benjamin. People were already closing their houses and shops for the night.

  Caleb said, “We will stay on the other side of Bethany. There is an olive grove that I stayed in with my family for Passover a long time ago. It will be quiet and no one will bother us there. I do not want to be near the road or encounter the Romans again.”

  Rebekah followed Caleb silently through the village and over the top of a hill. As they came over the crest Caleb paused. Rebekah lifted her eyes to see, for the first time, the city of Jerusalem. She stared in disbelief at the sight. From the Mount of Olives she could see the roadway into the east wall of the city. The city wall was so tall that it covered all but the roof tops in the lower section of the city. To the right she saw the East Gate and the Temple Mount.

  Caleb stood gazing at the city, overcome as always by its size and beauty. Soon he stirred. “We must make a place for the night here in the olive grove. We will be safe here.”

  The little girl gathered fuel for a small fire. They ate some unleavened bread and drank water from the goat skin bag. She felt numb and exhausted. Covered with dust, her feet were black from walking all day, and tear stains still marked her cheeks. Slumping down across the fire from her father’s friend, she fell into a deep but fitful sleep.

  Caleb rose the next morning with the sun, awakened Rebekah, and sent her for water down in the valley between the Mount of Olives and the city wall. He pointed where to go and she went on her way.

  On returning, Caleb looked into her dull eyes. “Wash yourself so that your uncle will want to keep you. Then we will go into Bethany and look for him. He is a shopkeeper and can take good care of you. You may have to do work for him, but it is better than being left alone.”

  “Yes, Caleb,” she answered quietly.

  After washing, they walked over the hill toward Bethany. As they wandered through the village some people were already setting out their goods in the small market. Women walked the narrow streets with large earthen jugs on their heads, stacks of sticks, and large skin-wrapped packages.

  Caleb asked about Benjamin. He stopped several places and was chased away as a beggar. Finally he came to a man selling cucumbers and herbs. Rebekah stood close by while Caleb talked with him. She never smelled anything as fresh as the vegetables before.

  “You can find Benjamin down there on the way to the Jericho road.” The man pointed with a stubby finger in the direction they should go.

  “Shalom. May the Lord Jehovah bless you.”

  “Achh!” the man replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  Caleb stopped at a pottery shop. As he talked with the shopkeeper, Rebekah peered into the cramped space. Shelves of different sized jugs lined one wall. The shopkeeper stood behind a half wall which displayed oil lamps, jars, and a few bowls that could be seen from the street. In the back corner she saw a man sitting on a stool, shaping a jar on a potter’s wheel. Slurry covered his hands and arms. Wet jars sat on the floor around him. An open door at the back of the shop revealed a small courtyard. She could see two men in front of what looked like a huge fire place. They were putting wood on a fire in the lower opening and jars in what looked like an oven to her.

  “His shop is three down and across the way. Benjamin did not know you were coming,” the shopkeeper commented. He came out from behind his wares and looked the little girl over. She looked down at her feet and held her cloak close around her head.

  “Shalom. May the Lord...” Caleb replied politely, but the man had already turned his back and dismissed them.

  They could see a shop with wool and flax cloth, and woven rugs in earth tones. A few colorful rugs with rich greens and blues stood in the back where passers by couldn’t dirty the finer rugs and cloth. Only those who could afford them could touch them. A rough wooden door in the back of the narrow shop was closed. A double wood door stood just to the left of the shop. A stone and mud wall
went to the end of the street, and beyond the wall they could see the Jericho road in the distance.

  Rebekah shuddered as she looked at the man in the shop. Could this be her uncle? He haggled fiercely with a customer. Both men’s voices cut though the air and their hands waved like windmills. Caleb stood and waited until they finished their bargaining and the customer went away with his small rug tucked under one arm. Benjamin counted his money and stuffed it into the folds of his sash, then looked up to notice the shepherd standing near his wares. He scowled and waved his hands at them. “Go away. I don’t feed beggars,” He turned his back.

  Caleb knew well that shepherds were considered the lowest class. He took a deep breath and said to the man’s back, “We are not beggars. I have come to find Benjamin, the brother of Miriam who married Eleazar, the shepherd.”

  The man turned slowly and his eyes narrowed. “What do you want from him?”

  “I have business with him,” the young shepherd squared his shoulders and looked directly into his hard brown eyes.

  “What kind of business could you possibly have?”

  Rebekah stood close to Caleb trying to stay out of the penetrating gaze of this crude shopkeeper.

  Caleb said, “Do you know where I could find him?”

  “I am he. Everyone in Bethany knows me. What do you want? I have business at hand.” Benjamin nodded to two men as they walked past.

  “You are Benjamin?”

  “Yes. I…”

  Caleb interrupted and pushed Rebekah in front of him. She trembled under his hands on her shoulders. “This is Rebekah. She is your sister’s child.”

  “What do I care? I have not seen my sister in years. She chose her life with that shepherd. She is not part of our family since before my father and mother died.”