The Gate of Heaven (11 page)

But even more frightening was the fact that the stairway was occupied! The beings were glorious beyond anything he had ever seen. Their faces—what faces they had! Jacob realized they were angels, some going up the ladder, ascending out of sight, and others coming down. They were older than the hills yet younger than the morning dew, and they were innocent. He knew he had never seen such innocent faces in all his life! Every face he had seen on earth was a mirror reflecting guilt and wrongdoing and sin.

But these beings had no sin, and they exuded joy. And as they sang, the melodies they lifted were songs of praise such as Jacob could not have imagined. There were as many of them, it seemed, as stars in the sky, and they sang together—some in basso profundo tones, others with climbing, soaring soprano voices reaching the heavens. He could not understand the words, but he knew they all united to praise the glory of the everlasting God.

Jacob watched and listened, and the glory of the angelic beings and the stairway that reached far beyond the stars filled his soul. He was wishing he could stay there forever when he heard a voice he knew he would never forget.

It was as deep as the sea, as powerful as a storm with the strength to rip the earth asunder…yet as gentle as a breeze that might barely stir the tiny feathers of a small bird. There was comfort in that voice—and love and joy and strength—and it seemed to soak into Jacob like water to a man dying of thirst. He looked up and saw a mighty light above the stairway, majestic in its power and radiance. Yet the voice was close—in his ear…and in his heart.

“I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”

And then the angelic hosts lifted their voices in a triumphant song that seemed to move heaven and earth. It rose above heaven and went down to the deepest parts of the earth, but most of all it sank into Jacob's soul. He never forgot that melody, and he mourned the rest of his life because he knew he would never hear it again on this earth.

Jacob sat straight up, frightened, and looked around wildly. He saw that it was morning, and he knew that the dream had taken all night. He would never forget the stairway, nor the voice, nor the words. He felt a great surge of joy, and he jumped to his feet, lifting his arms and crying, “Oh, Lord God, you are real! You have spoken to me as you spoke to my grandfather Abraham and to my father, Isaac, and to my mother. I praise and thank you, my God, for stooping down to speak to a sinner such as I!”

Jacob walked around praising God, tears flowing down his face. He took the stone he had used for a pillow and heaved it on top of an upthrust rock, forming a pillar. Then going to his pack, he pulled out a small jar of oil. He returned to the stone and poured the oil over it, tears filling his eyes. He stepped back and fell on his knees and lifted his voice toward heaven. “I call the name of this place Bethel—‘house of God.' If God will be with me and will watch over me on this journey I am taking and will give me food to eat and clothes to wear so that I return safely to my father's house, then the Lord will be my God. This stone that I have set up as a pillar will be God's house, and of all that you give me I will give you a tenth.”

Then Jacob fell on his face sobbing, and he felt again in his heart a trace of the glory he had seen. He lay facedown, simply giving thanks to God, knowing that one day he would come back to this place. Finally he got to his feet, gathered his pack, and took one last look around. “This place is none other than the house of God, and this is the very gate of heaven!”

Jacob had begun to think that Paddan didn't exist! Ever since he had seen the vision of the great stairway reaching up into heaven, he had marched hard across the arid lands. Water holes had been scarce, and at times his tongue had grown as dry as the sand and stones under his feet. His sandals had worn out, and he had cut pieces of leather off his pack in order to fashion new ones. Walking barefoot across the burning sand and rocks was intolerable.

As he approached the crest of the rise before him, he had little hope of seeing anything other than more desert. He had come over many such rises, and every time he had been greeted not with the sight of human habitation but only with more low, barren hills stretching endlessly over the horizon. With tongue swollen, feet torn and bleeding, and stomach shrunken from lack of food, his thoughts went back to Bethel, where he had met God face-to-face. Despite the discomforts his body suffered now, the memories he had of his past life were even harsher. Even with the glory of the vision still fresh in his mind, he could not help thinking what a wreck he had made of his life.
If I'd set out to ruin myself, I couldn't have done it better!
He shut his eyes as if to blot out the bitter thoughts. He caught his toe on a rock, and pain shot up his leg. Hopping on one foot, he held his toe, wanting to fling his staff far from him in a rage. But that would not do, for he needed something to lean on.

Stumbling on, he berated himself for his stupidity.
What did that vision mean? How can God use such a sorry fellow as I am? He knows everything I've done. You can't hide from God
. He remembered his mother's words:
“Soon you will come home again.”

“Fat chance of that,” Jacob groaned. “Esau will never forget what I did to him. Never! I might as well get used to never seeing home again.”

The sun rose higher in the sky as the lone figure stumbled along. A wild dog emerged from behind a rock, and the two stared at each other. For a moment Jacob thought the dog meant to attack him, but when he shouted and waved his staff, the animal ducked away and disappeared into the low-growing shrubs—the only vegetation the desert offered. Looking up, Jacob spotted three buzzards circling over to his right, and a shiver went through him. “They're just waiting to get me, but they won't,” he muttered grimly.

Less than half an hour after seeing the dog and the buzzards, Jacob reached the top of yet another crest. His legs were trembling with weariness, and he had never been so dirty in all of his life. When he topped the crest, he stopped dead still. There lying before him was a large valley with lush green grass that bespoke of springs and human beings.

He stumbled forward anxiously, nearly falling, and saw spots of white that he realized were sheep. He moved as fast as he could, but he was using his last reserves of strength. Then he remembered the promise God had given to protect him. Gratefully he uttered, “Thank you, God, for bringing me safely here!”

The valley opened up beneath his feet, and soon he was walking on a thin crust of dirt, dotted with tendrils of grass. But Jacob was looking for water, not grass.

Soon he heard the bleating of the sheep, and the grass became thicker. A sigh of relief washed through him as he saw two men leaning on their staffs watching him stumble forward. Jacob lifted his hand and croaked, “Greetings.”

The two men nodded but did not speak, and Jacob realized with chagrin that he was not much to look at. He was filthy from head to foot; his hair was clogged with the dirt of the desert and hung lankly around his shoulders. His knees were bleeding from the numerous falls he had taken, crusted with brown blood, and his clothes were ripped by the many thorns he had encountered along the way.

“Water!” Jacob gasped. “Please give me a drink!”

One of the two men looked at the other, and an unspoken message passed between them. He shrugged and said, “There's your water. Help yourself.”

Jacob turned and saw a rock and beside it clear water bubbling forth. It fed a small stream that wound its way in a serpentine fashion, outlined now by the sheep that gathered around both sides of it, making a white line across the valley floor.

Dropping his staff and his pack, Jacob fell on his face and stuck his mouth under the water. It was cold and the best drink he had ever had in his life! He drank until he could hold no more and could almost feel the fluid seeping into his dry tissues. He stuck his whole head under the stream, letting it mat his hair, then rolled over and came to his feet. Wiping the water from his face and pressing it from his hair, he said, “Thank you, sirs.”

“You look like you've had a hard trip.”

“Yes. All the way from Beersheba.”

Both shepherds shook their heads, and the taller of the two said, “That's not a good trip for a man to make alone. There are bandits and bears between here and there.”

Jacob smiled wryly. “I know. But it was a journey I had to make.”

“Where are you going?”

“Do you know of Laban?”

The shorter of the two grimaced. “Laban?”

“He's a relative of mine,” Jacob said.

“My name is Doni and this is Razo,” the taller man said. “We live over in that direction.”

“But you know Laban?” Jacob asked again.

Doni laughed. “Yes, we know him, but we don't know much good about him, even if he is your relative.”

Jacob's heart sank, and he saw the two watching him closely. “What evil do you know of him?”

“Oh, he's not a criminal or anything like that.” Razo shrugged his scrawny shoulders.

“He would be if he had the chance, though.” Doni grinned. “But I guess the worst thing I can say about him is that he spends most of his time in the village drinking when he ought to be tending to his business.” He peered closely at Jacob. “You haven't let him borrow any money, have you?”

“No, certainly not!”

“Well, I wouldn't if I were you.” He laughed, saying, “He's got two sons, Lomach and Benzar, dark-skinned fellows.”

“That's right. They were born to a black concubine when Laban was a young man. He's too cheap to hire good help, so those two take care of what work is done—which isn't much.”

“Is that all the family he has?”

“Oh, he's got a wife—who scares me somehow. She's some kind of a witch, I think.”

“Yes, and he's got those two girls.”

“Two girls? How old are they?” Jacob asked quickly.

Razo winked at his companion. “This fellow's already checking out the women, and he hasn't yet washed all the dust off of himself! One of them is too young to interest you now, but she'll be a beauty someday. Her name is Rachel. The other is Leah.”

“She won't do you any good either,” Razo said. “She's the brains of the family. If it weren't for her, they would have gone down a long time ago. But talk is she's going to marry.”

“I don't know about that,” Doni said. He scratched himself vigorously and then shook his head. “That Mehor, he's a rough one. He's already killed one man over a woman.”

“Mehor?” Jacob asked. “Who's he?”

“He's from another tribe. Lives over those hills to the west. He's a big, bruising man. Swears he's going to marry Leah no matter what she says.”

“It sounds like she doesn't care much for him,” Jacob murmured. He turned as he saw a small flock of sheep approaching, being led by a young woman. “Who's this?” he asked.

“Why, that's Rachel. Your kinswoman, if what you tell us is true.”

Jacob stood absolutely still, watching the girl with curious interest. He recalled having heard his mother speak of her. Rebekah had never seen Rachel, but she'd heard reports from a traveler.

The two shepherds grinned and ambled away, warning, “Watch out for that Leah. Don't fall for her, stranger, or Mehor will get you.”

Jacob paid them no heed. His eyes were on the young woman. She was barely more than a girl but clearly on the verge of womanhood. Her hair was tied back, and she wore a simple light-blue robe that came down only to her knees. Had she been older, she would have worn a robe to her feet, as was the custom. As she came closer, Jacob studied her face. Her eyebrows were thin and arched, and her face was round with smooth, delicate skin. She pursed her lips, her lower lip more pronounced, as if she were pouting. She smiled at one of the sheep, and a dimple appeared on her right cheek. She was a slender girl but of pleasing proportions.