Gifts

THERE WAS NO OTHER OPTION. For a day and a night Jacob had wrestled with the necessity for sending Benjamin. This time God had defeated him.

Still, they would have to take every precaution. They would bear gifts, and the gifts would be extravagant, since that was the protocol when appearing before a great lord. Jacob’s wealth was mostly in livestock; it would have been difficult to drive sheep or goats to Egypt, even if the animals had been healthy, but he still had stores, sadly dwindled now, of the local products that were most in demand throughout the region. The land of Canaan was famous for its almonds, pistachios, spices, and myrrh; and its honey—a thick syrup made not by bees but from dates and grapes—sweetened the lives of the well-to-do from Egypt to Mesopotamia.

But the silver: they would have to neutralize the reappearance of their silver shekels. At the very least they would have to return the money, with excuses and abject apologies. The great lord didn’t know God’s uncanny ways, and he might think … But who knew what he might think? Their position had to be one of humility, humiliation even. Jacob knew about self-abasement. He had groveled like a beggar before his brother, Esau, who in the twenty years since Jacob’s flight from home had become a rich and powerful chieftain and who Jacob had feared still harbored a murderous resentment toward him for his theft of the Blessing. Jacob had eaten the dust at Esau’s feet. He had squeaked out his gratitude at having his miserable life spared. That was the mercy he had prayed for back then. Now again, perhaps, in the guise of this powerful ruler, God might let them all live.