Rivkah eventually marries and raises a family. Life is good until the day she encounters Jesus a final time…this time on his way to crucifixion. She follows and
this time, as they take him from the cross, it’s Rivkah who helps Mary hold
her son
.
An epic tale of love lost and love found,
Biblically and historically accurate.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B002WYJPIU
~ 6 ~
“And in that region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock night.”
―Luke 2:8
I named my sheep
Liat
, which means
You
are mine
.
Having a sheep all my own made going to the fields much more exciting. I still did womanly chores with Aunt Tamar, but as soon as Abba returned with the flock, my feet flew out the door as I ran to check on
Liat
. Now I had two things to think about while sweeping, grinding meal and kneading dough,
Liat
and S
hemu’el. Well, mostly Shemu’el.
But for a time there would be no more weaving and dyeing, sweeping and stitching for Rivkah. Lambing season had come and, as a shepherdess, my duty was to be with my flock. Abba and I would spend our nights in the field along with Shemu’el, his brothers and father and
the other shepherds of our settlement. I danced with excitement as I scurried around the house preparing to leave.
Abba moved the sheep to the birthing pasture about the ninth hour, leaving me behind to gather the things we needed. My bag waited, stuffed with food. Knowing the fields grew cold at night, I threw in our fleece-lined cloaks. After tucking my rod into my sash, I glanced around the room making a final check.
Ready to go.
I tossed the bag over my shoulder, grabbed my staff and bid my cous
ins in the next house farewell.
My heart pounded with anticipation as I skipped down the path. The coolness of the coming evening settled around me on my way to the pasture. A surprisingly large number of people traveled the main road heading for Bethlehem. I threaded my way between them watching the setting sun paint pink and purpl
e bands across the western sky.
I had slipped my
shrika
into my leather purse in hopes of playing it when we sang around the fire. A quick pat verified it was still there. My feet coul
d not get me there fast enough.
By the time I reached the fields, the sky had turned dusky blue-gray and a delicate rim of moon peaked over the mountains behind me. Wispy ribbons of smoke rose from the valley; they had already lit the evening’s fire. Abba noticed me walking along the crest of the
hill and dashed up to meet me.
“Good news,” he said, breathless from the climb.
Seeing his wide
grin filled me with happiness.
“Lambing season has
begun,
my little dove. Just before you arrived the first ewe dropped a pair of healthy rams.”
“Perhaps those twins are th
e omen of a prosperous season.”
“May the Lord make it
so.
”
I took his hand as we walked. “Why are there so many pilgrims on the road? It is not a time for festivals, and Pesach is not until the month of Nisan.”
“Those are not
pilgrims,
they are going to Bethlehem for the census.” Seeing my confusion, he explained. “Some time ago Caesar Augustus ordered a count of the whole world. They do it by province, beginning in th
e west and moving to the east.”
He shrugged. “Our turn has come. It is about taxation and gathering gold. Just another Roman scheme to squeeze the last drops out of a ra
g they have already wrung dry.”
“Do they not have enough already?”
Abba rested his arm over my shoulder and lowered his voice. “Let me tell you something about gold, little one. It is best to have none at all. Once you begin to accumulate gold it makes your palm itch for more. Love of money is the root of all evil.” He licked his lips. “So what have you brought for our supper?”
Other shepherds drifted in from the fields as I spread a cloth and sat out our meal. There was a large block of soft cheese with herbs kneaded in the way Abba preferred, fresh-baked barley loaves, parched grains in vinegar and oil with sliced cucumbers, dried fruits, eggs cooked hard in water and a skin of wine.
A man’s voice from behind startled me. “Those apricots look tasty.”
A large hand reached over my shoulder into my open package of dried fruit and stole an apricot. I jerked around in surprise and watched the thief, my Uncle
Chayim
, grin as he p
opped the fruit into his mouth.
He and Abba looked enough alike that strangers sometimes confused them.
Chayim
was more than an uncle to me…almost a father. He called me his other daughter because I spent my earliest years in his household. Many of those evenings I crawled into my uncle’s strong arms and fell asleep.
Chayim
clapped my father on the back and dropped onto the grass beside him.
“Twins, eh
Ya’akov
.
An auspicious start to the lambing season.”
He grinned. “You may be ahead for now, brother, but this season is far from over. We shall see who wins out in the end.
”
“And how are you, little shepherdess?” He rummaged in his pack for supper as he spoke. “Tamar sent honey cakes. There may be enough to share, although you will have to fight me for them. I feel hungry as a lion tonight.” He
bared
his teeth, gave a low growl,
then
chuckled deep in his belly.
Abba grabbed a stick from the pile of branches the younger boys gathered that afternoon and poked at the fire, sending sparks soaring into the sky. He continued prodding the embers until flames re-appeared, then tossed on several more logs. The circle around the fire filled as the other shepherds drifted in from the meadows. The men shared food and talked among themselves. I sat with my
head down, listening as I ate.
Shemu’el sat opposite me, on the other side of the fire with his brothers and father. We stole glances at each other through the flames. He and his brothers talked and laughed, making me wonder what they said. Each time our eyes met he smiled. The fire painted a glow on his face and its light sparkled in h
is eyes.
* * *
The hungry lion shared Aunt Tamar’s honey cakes like I knew he would. They left my fingers sticky so I walked
down to a nearby creek to wash.
“May I come down?” Shemu’el
asked from the top of the hill.
“Of course.”
The cold water made my
hands tingle.
Shemu’el’s footsteps drew closer then he plopped down beside me. “You do not mind me being here, do you?”
He understood that as the only maiden it was sometimes necessa
ry for me to go away by myself.
“Oh no.
Uncle
Chayim
brought honey cakes to share. I c
ame to wash my sticky fingers.”
He rubbed his hands together and grinned. “This is your first season with your own flock. You must be excited.”
I beamed with pride. “Yes I am, thanks to you.”
Shemu’el and his brothers each had their own sheep. He had been building his herd for several years in anticipation of the day he would take a wife.
“You give me too much credit, Rivkah. I did not rescue
Liat
. We drove the lion off together.”
Shemu’el always said nice things that made me feel good inside. He never belittled me the way the other boys did. Stay and talk some more, my heart begged. Knowing the other boys would tease us if we were gone too long, I forced myself to say instead, “W
e should get back to the fire.”
Shemu’el rose and extended an arm. His strong hand grasped mine and he pulled me up. He continued holding my hand as we walked back to the campfire. I imagined walking this way
everywhere we went after we wed.
“As your herd increases you may want to introduce new bloodlines,” Shemu’el said. “My brother Caleb has a fine new ram. He would let you use him if I asked for you. I watched the ram search out and mount some of our ewes; he is a very aggressive breeder.”
My fingers quivered in his hand.
“How nice.
I
…I
will keep that in mind.” Aggressive breeding was the last thing I w
anted to discuss with Shemu’el.
Our eyes met in the moonlight.
Shemu’el noticed my embarrassment and l
et my fingers slip through his.
We walked the rest of the way in silence. Oh, how I hated that ram of Caleb’s.
* * *
Abba and I rechecked the sheep before turning in. Like always, groups of shepherds kept watch in shifts while the others slept. If a predator appeared, or anything out of the ordinary occurre
d, they would rouse the others.
Those on the first watch left for the field and the rest of us took our places around the fire. The flames danced in the dark as the men began chanting
Ma’ariv
. I tugged my fleece cloak over me for a blanket and tucked it under my chin as
they sang our evening prayers.
Using my arm as a pillow, I watched Shemu’el through the flames as he arranged his bedroll. I imagined us snuggled together and
sleeping in each other’s arms.
Myriad stars spread across the heavens above me. An unseen weight pushed my eyelids closed and I drifted int
o a deep slumber.
~ 7 ~
“And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear.”
― Luke 2:9
“Look out
!
A
star is falling on us
.
”
I awoke with a start and squinted into the bright light racin
g toward us.
Abba hunched
beside me staring into the sky.
The terrified look on his face gave me a chill. What was happening? Nothing frightened Abba.
The light drew nearer, growing larger and larger, until it surrounded us. I scrunched between the other shepherds, making myself as small as possible.
The other shepherds?
What were the other shepherds doing clustered around me? When did they move to our side of the fire? What became of our watchmen? W
hy had no one sounded an alarm?
Too many questions
and n
o answers.
Struck dumb with fright, we sat like statues, our faces turned to the sky. What at first appeared to be a falling star gradually took shape. The light came from the creature at the center of it. Placing a hand along my brow to shield my eyes, I squinted up at him. His light washed over us, pure and clear. Everything stilled as this powerful being hovered above us.
“Do not be afraid.”
I cannot recall what his voice sounded like, or if he even had a voice. His words became a part of my thoughts without me knowing how. An incredible sense of peace washed over me, better even than waking from a nightmare in my father’s arms.
The others felt it too. All around me people smiled and sighed in relief. We could breathe
again; we had nothing to fear.
No matter what happened, we knew it would be good.
Just four simple words.
This mighty creature had said,
“Do not be afraid,”
and we cast away our fears as easily as one tossed aside the
ir cloak at the end of the day.
We came to understand he was one of God’s angels sent to bring us a message. I snuggled under Abba’s left arm and stared into the sky. With my fears gone, I could now look up
at the angel without squinting.
“I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people,” the angel said. “For unto you
is
born this day in the city of David a Savior. He is the
Mashiach
, the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; you shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling
clothes and lying in a manger.”
Then the night sky opened.
I gasped as more and more of these marvelous creatures poured out of the heavens as rapidly as barley kernels spill from a split sack. This heavenly host gathered about us, swirling above our heads, praising God and singing,
“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”
And then, as quickly as they appeared, they were gone. The sky closed around them and we were left in darkness, left staring up at the stars in wonder. The night never seemed darker tha
n it did after the angels left.