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  Then the babies came. Leah gave birth to Reuben—which meant “see, a son.” She hoped Jacob would love her for this heir. She gave birth to Simeon—which meant “God has heard.” How could Jacob not love her now? She gave birth to Levi—which meant “will join.” Three sons were a grand gift. Jacob had to love her. But Jacob’s heart was cold marble. Leah’s soft, tender eyes hurt constantly. She had a fourth son, Judah—which meant “sing praise”—for she realized it was only God she could count on for love. She stopped having children.

  Jacob married Leah, but he never loved her. She gave him son after son, but nothing she could do would soften his heart toward her.

  Jacob had a large family. His beloved wife Rachel gave him two sons. His sad wife Leah gave him six sons and a daughter. His wife Bilhah, handmaid of Rachel, gave him two sons. His wife Zilpah, handmaid of Leah, gave him two sons.

  Meanwhile, the beauty Rachel was barren. She demanded of Jacob, “Give me sons. If you don’t, I am dead.”

  “What? Am I God?” For this barrenness was not Jacob’s doing.

  Rachel found a solution. She could offer her handmaid Bilhah to Jacob as a third wife, like her husband’s grandmother Sarah had offered her handmaid to Abraham. If Bilhah had a son, Rachel could have the status of mother to that child.

  Bilhah soon bore a son. Rachel named him Dan, which meant “God judged in my favor.” Bilhah bore another son. Rachel named him Naphtali, which meant “I fought and won.” Alas, Rachel was in a battle of babies with her sister Leah.

  Leah offered her own handmaid, Zilpah, to Jacob as a fourth wife.

  If Jacob was aware of the growing strain in his household, he didn’t show it. Soon Zilpah had a son, who Leah named Gad, which meant “good luck has come.” Zilpah had another son. Leah named him Asher, which meant “good fortune.” Now Jacob had eight sons, none by the envious, yet still beautiful, Rachel.

  One day Reuben, Leah’s oldest son, came home from the field with an armload of mandrakes, a plant known for making people fertile. Rachel wanted them terribly. She bartered with Leah for them—Rachel would get the mandrakes, Leah would get more time with Jacob.

  Leah told Jacob she’d hired him for the price of mandrakes. What Jacob made of this information no one knows. But Leah went on to have another son, named Issachar, which meant “the reward of hire.” She had a sixth son, named Zebulun, which meant “gifts.” Last, she had a daughter named Dinah.

  Finally, God heard the suffering Rachel—as though remembering a lost child. God blessed Rachel so that in due time she gave birth to a son. She called him Joseph, which meant “my shame is removed” and “may there be another son.”

  WHAT’S IN A NAME?

  Naming children properly is important in many societies, but customs differ widely. Children are often named after another person (maybe an ancestor or hero figure), and can reflect gender, birth order, or day of the week the child was born, among other things. Sometimes names can have meaning significant to the parents in ways similar to the names in these biblical stories, names that range from connotational and emotive (such as “laughter”) to ideas about the construction of identity (such as “rich,” “beautiful,” “farmer,” “strong warrior”).

  By this point, Jacob had served Laban seven years for Leah, then seven years for Rachel, and finally six additional years for herds of animals. It was time to return to Canaan. Jacob gathered his four wives, eleven sons, one daughter, servants, and hundreds of camels, donkeys, oxen, sheep, and goats. They retraced the steps Jacob had taken 20 years before. When they arrived at the sacred spot where Jacob had dreamed of the heavenward ladder, task messengers met them. Jacob stopped and sent ahead servants with animals as gifts for his estranged brother Esau. Jacob longed for peace with him.

  Then he heard Esau was coming to meet him, bringing an army. In fear, Jacob sent his family across the Jabbok Ford. He waited alone on the near side of the ford for whatever would come that night. An unknown man appeared—an apparition? A task messenger? They wrestled. Jacob’s hip got dislocated. He cried, “Let me go. Dawn comes. Bless me.” The man asked, “Who are you?” When Jacob told him, the man renamed him Israel, which meant “he struggled with a divine being and prevailed”—just as God had renamed Abram as Abraham. The man blessed Jacob.

  The man never said his own name. But that man had blessed Jacob-Israel, just as a task messenger would have; so Jacob-Israel named that place Peniel, which meant “I have seen God face-to-face and survived.”

  Israel limped away—his thigh painful. To this day, the Children of Israel are prohibited from eating thigh meat.

  As Israel continued traveling southward, Esau and his men arrived. Israel arranged his servants and family in order, with Rachel and their son Joseph, the favored ones, in the last and most protected position. He went to Esau, bowing seven times. When the long-lost brothers saw one another, they hugged. Esau refused the gifts. He had wives and children, land and animals, enough wealth of his own. But Israel said that seeing Esau was like seeing the face of God. So Esau accepted the gifts.

  Finally, the newly remade Jacob, who had been born holding on to his brother’s heel, who had tricked that brother twice, now deserved his new name of Israel. He no longer clung to anyone, he no longer needed tricks.

  Esau had changed, too. As a young man he could never do anything right. Now he was a rich man with a large family.

  The brothers left—Israel to the land he had grown up in and Esau to the home he had made in Seir—at peace with each other. That’s what mattered. Israel’s long journey, his penance, had been rewarded.

  Along the final stretch of the road homeward, Israel’s beloved wife Rachel gave birth to a second son. But she was old and labor was harsh. As her energies faded, Rachel named the boy Ben-Oni, which meant “son of my suffering.” She died. Israel buried her in that place, which was called Bethlehem.

  He renamed the boy Benjamin. So Abram and his wife Sarai, their grandson Jacob, and now Jacob’s son Ben-Oni, had all been renamed. But this time it was the father, not God, who did it, for Benjamin meant “son of the right hand.” Being Rachel’s child, his father favored him. In all, Israel had 12 sons now, and his daughter Dinah.

  Jacob wrestled with a stranger in the night. He was injured, but he prevailed, and the mysterious stranger blessed him and renamed him Israel.

  Joseph, Israel’s favorite son, had a dream in which he and his brothers were binding sheaves of grain in the field. In the dream, Joseph’s sheaf stood tall and all the other sheaves bowed down to it.

  JOSEPH AND HIS BROTHERS: THE CRIME

  Isaac died of old age. His firstborn, Esau, and his second-born, Israel, united to bury him, just as Abraham’s firstborn, Ishmael, and second-

  born, Isaac, had united to bury him. Abraham’s offspring understood the importance of family, though it seemed that importance needed to be learned over and over again, with each new generation.

  In the present generation stood the 12 sons of Israel. The baby Benjamin did hardly anything with the older ones. But the 11 others worked together in the fields, tending the flocks. Now Joseph, the son of Israel’s favorite wife, Rachel, was his father’s favorite son—not counting the baby Benjamin. And Joseph knew it. He tattletaled to his father about his brothers’ shenanigans. It wasn’t hard to do—for his brothers could behave like violent toughs and bumblers.

  Israel made his favored son Joseph a tunic as ornamented and beautiful as any woman’s festive dress. Joseph’s brothers were consumed with jealousy and treated him spitefully. Then Joseph made things worse for himself…much worse; he foolishly revealed dreams he was having.

  His father, Israel, when he was still named Jacob, had had that amazing dream of a ladder that extended toward the heavens. Now it was Joseph’s turn to dream. And he told his brothers all about his first dream. In the dream the brothers were binding sheaves in the field, when Joseph’s sheaf suddenly stood tall and the sheaves of his brothers gathered around and bowed to it. The br
others were aghast at what this dream might mean. And they hated Joseph. “Do you plan to reign over us?” Then Joseph, who might not have been the most thoughtful of fellows, had another dream and again told it in full to his brothers and his father. In this dream the sun and moon and 11 stars bowed to him. Israel was annoyed. “Shall we really come and bow down to you—your mother and I and all your brothers?” So the brothers hated Joseph even more, and his father kept all of this in mind.

  Joseph had a second dream, in which the sun and the moon and 11 stars all bowed down to him. This made Israel and Joseph’s brothers believe that Joseph thought he should rule over his parents and his 11 brothers.

  One day the brothers went out together to a pasture very far away without Joseph. Israel told Joseph to go join his brothers. Was this some kind of trick Israel was playing on Joseph? He knew very well how his older sons felt toward this younger son. And by this point, Joseph knew, too. But Joseph was his father’s obedient son. He said, “Here I am,” just as Abraham had responded to God when he was told to sacrifice Isaac, just as both Esau and Jacob had responded to their father Isaac when he was bedridden and calling to them. Those words preceded pain. Was Joseph aware he was in mortal danger?

  Joseph’s brothers took the beautiful coat his father had made for him, and threw him into a pit, planning to let him die.

  Aware or not, Joseph went in search of his brothers, who spied him coming from afar. After all, that colorful tunic was unmistakable. And they plotted to kill him, throw him in a pit, and tell their father, Israel, that a vicious beast had devoured him. Only Reuben, the very first of Israel’s sons, stood up for him. He said they should throw Joseph in the pit alive, and he secretly planned to come back and save his younger brother.

  When Joseph arrived, the brothers stripped off his coat—that source of envy—and flung him into the pit without even any water to drink. Then they sat down to eat—the thought of murdering their younger brother had no effect on their appetite! That’s when they lifted their eyes—just as Hagar had lifted her eyes when she thought her son Ishmael was about to die of thirst in the wilderness and just as Abraham had lifted his eyes before he was about to sacrifice Isaac. This lifting of the eyes brought the brothers an answer different from murder: a caravan of Ishmaelites traveling with gum and balm and ladanum piled high on their camels. Judah, Leah’s fourth son, said they should sell Joseph to these wanderers, and that way keep their hands clean of their brother’s blood.

  For 20 pieces of silver, they sold Joseph.

  The brothers killed a kid goat and smeared his blood on Joseph’s tunic, then brought it home to Israel. “Is this Joseph’s?” they asked, knowing full well it was. Keening and rending his clothes, Israel mourned for his favorite son that a savage beast had surely killed. He would not be consoled. Did he understand that he’d set up this murder? Or did he maybe know somehow deep inside that Joseph still lived, but was lost to him?

  CARAVAN TRADE

  Joseph was sold to a caravan of Ishmaelites—descendants of Abraham’s older son Ishmael, who had produced his own 12 tribes. The Ishmaelites were herders and merchants, with villages and trade routes from Egypt to Syria. They traded cosmetics, perfumes, medicines. The caravan mentioned in this story carries three medicinal drugs. Gum was made from mixing dried sap with water to form a soothing gel for burns, cough, and digestive problems. Balm, a fragrant tree resin, healed wounds. Ladanum, a milky tincture from certain poppy plants, was a painkiller.

  Pharaoh dreamed that seven fat cows appeared in the River Nile. Then seven bony cows appeared and ate them up. What could it mean? He needed a dream interpreter—he needed Joseph.

  JOSEPH AND HIS BROTHERS: FORGIVENESS

  Meanwhile, the Ishmaelites traveled to Egypt and sold Joseph to Potifar, adviser to Pharaoh, ruler of Egypt. The Lord made everything Joseph did turn out right. Soon Potifar put Joseph in charge, while he spent his day eating.

  All was well. For a while. Then Potifar’s wife noticed how handsome Joseph was. She wanted romance.

  Joseph couldn’t betray Potifar or God. Day after day, the woman persisted and Joseph refused. Finally, she seized him by his shirt. He escaped, without his shirt. The woman ran outside and accused Joseph of assaulting her. She identified him as a Hebrew—that word that meant he was an outsider. When Potifar heard, he imprisoned Joseph.

  Again the Lord made everything Joseph did turn out right; the prison warden put Joseph in charge. Two new prisoners arrived, the cupbearer and the baker of Pharaoh. Each had a dream no one could interpret. Well, Joseph could interpret dreams!

  The cupbearer said, “In my dream a vine with three tendrils budded and made grapes. I squashed them in Pharaoh’s cup and handed it to him.”

  Joseph quickly said the tendrils were days. “In three days Pharaoh will pardon you. You’ll be his cupbearer. When you get out, tell Pharaoh of me. I was stolen from the Hebrews.”

  Now the baker spoke. “In my dream I carried three baskets on my head. Birds pecked at the bread in the top one.”

  Joseph answered quickly again. “In three days Pharaoh will slice off your head and put it on a pole, where birds will peck it.”

  It happened just like that.

  But the cupbearer forgot and never spoke a word of Joseph to Pharaoh. Two years passed. Then Pharaoh himself had dreams. He dreamed seven fat cows emerged from the River Nile. Seven bony cows emerged and devoured the fat cows. Pharaoh awoke with a start. Then he slept and dreamed again. A single stalk sprouted with seven juicy ears of corn. Another stalk sprouted with seven dry ears that gobbled up the juicy ears. The pounding of his heart woke Pharaoh. He called soothsayers, but none could interpret his dream. That’s when the cupbearer remembered Joseph.

  A baker who was imprisoned dreamed that he balanced three baskets of bread on his head and birds pecked at the ones on top.

  So Pharaoh summoned Joseph. Joseph said the two dreams were but one. God was warning Pharaoh of the future. Seven years of plenty—like seven fat cows and seven juicy ears of corn—would be followed by seven years of famine—like seven bony cows and seven dry ears of corn. Pharaoh should hire a wise man to collect excess food during the years of plenty and store it for the years of famine.

  Pharaoh chose Joseph as that wise man. He gave Joseph his signet ring, fine linen clothes, a gold necklace. He had him ride in the royal chariot. He gave him Asenat, daughter of Potifar, as his wife.

  For seven years Egypt was bountiful. Joseph collected food as his family grew. He had two sons, Manasseh and Ephraim. Then seven years of famine began. But Egypt survived, because of the storehouses of provision.

  No other lands had a wise man collecting provisions through the fat years. So when famine came, people outside Egypt suffered. In Canaan, Joseph’s father, Israel, kept Benjamin, the youngest, at his side, but sent all 10 of his other sons to Egypt to trade silver for food.

  The brothers came before Joseph and saw a fine man, the vizier to Pharaoh, speaking Egyptian and conversing with them through an interpreter. They didn’t recognize their brother. But Joseph knew them; they bowed to him, like in his first dream. He pretended to think they were spies. They protested; they were sons of a man living in Canaan, who had stayed behind with their youngest brother. One other brother was “no more.” They had come purely from hunger.

  Now that youngest brother was Benjamin, Joseph’s only full brother. How Joseph must have longed to know him again. Joseph threw his brothers in prison for three days. Then they could go home with food, but one must stay until the others returned, bringing their youngest brother.

  The brothers talked among themselves. Reuben scolded them, saying they never should have harmed their brother Joseph. He said they deserved this present situation for being heartless.

  Joseph understood them, though they didn’t know it. He turned his back and wept; brothers are brothers—and forgiveness comes when repentance is sincere. Still, he detained his brother Simeon and sent the others home with food. And he had the s
ilver they had paid put back in their bags.

  When the brothers discovered silver in their bags, they figured God had tricked them. Now that Egyptian vizier would think they were thieves. They told Israel everything. Israel refused to let Benjamin go to Egypt. “My son will not go. His brother is dead and he is all that remains. If harm should come to him, I would die of sorrow.” What a terrible thing for the brothers to hear. They were Israel’s children, too.

  Time passed, with Simeon languishing in prison and the people of Canaan going hungry again. Finally, Israel told the brothers to return to Egypt for food. The brothers said there was no point going without Benjamin. Judah vowed to protect Benjamin—otherwise they would all die of hunger.

  Israel finally let all his sons go, with the silver from last time plus double that amount for this time, and all Canaan’s best honey, gum, ladanum, pistachios, and almonds. When they got to Egypt, Joseph ordered a feast for the visitors.

  That night the brothers bowed to Joseph. “How is your father?” Joseph asked.

  “Alive and well,” they answered.

  “Is this your youngest brother?” Without waiting for an answer, Joseph added, “God be gracious to you.” He quickly went into another room and wept. When he returned, they prepared to eat—but Joseph sat separately because Egyptians did not eat with Hebrews. The brothers took their assigned seats—which were in the order of their birth. They were astonished. Who knew that order? And somehow Benjamin wound up with five times the portion of the others. It was as though he was the favored baby here, just as he was at home. How could this Egyptian nobleman know?