Till Shiloh Comes (32 page)

“I didn't have one like that myself.”

“But there are some, aren't there?”

“I suppose so.”

“I think my father looks on death like that,” Joseph said. “He talks about God a lot.”

“And you say he met God one time?”

“Yes, he did. More than once actually. He loved his family, but he never stopped talking about the times he met God. And his father, Isaac, met God. And most of all, my grandfather Abraham knew God well. I've always thought of one thing that makes me sure that when we leave this earth we go to God.”

“What's that?” Rashidi asked eagerly.

“When God appeared to my own father, He identified himself. He said ‘I am the God of Abraham and of Isaac.' You see what that means?”

“I'm afraid I don't.”

“Abraham and Isaac, my great-grandfather and my grandfather, have been dead for a long time. But God still said He was their God. I don't think He's the God of dead people but of living people. So somehow I think, Rashidi, that He's the God of the living.”

“How in the world can a man know a God like this?” Rashidi whispered. “I've been such a bad man I could never do enough good to make up the balance. You know what the Egyptians say. They think that when a man goes to the underworld, one of the gods puts their good deeds on one side of a scale and their bad deeds on the other.”

“Yes, that's what they believe, and if a man's good deeds outweigh his bad deeds, he doesn't have to suffer torment.”

“Do you believe that? It makes sense to me.”

“No, I don't believe it,” Joseph said. “From listening to my father and grandfather talk about El Shaddai, I think He's different from the gods of Egypt. I think that none of us could ever be good enough for God. I think of Him as being so good that a human can't even enter His presence. A man would die if he did. I think God's merciful, Rashidi. I think He forgives us because He loves us, just as we forgive our children because we love them.”

Rashidi's eyes brightened. “A God that loves people! Now there's a new thought!”

“My father used to say,
‘There will be a man who will come.'
He always gave him the name Shiloh, which means
peace
in our language. When he comes, this great redeemer will teach us enough about God so that we can really know Him.”

“When will he come?” Rashidi demanded.

Joseph stood up, and Rashidi rose with him. “Nobody knows that exactly, but my people believe that he will come.”

“I'd like to see that day.”

“So would I,” Joseph said. “Perhaps we will. No man knows. Now come. We must leave here, and I need you, Rashidi.”

Rashidi followed Joseph out, and when they stepped into the bright sunlight, he glanced up at the sun, squinting his eyes. “People here worship the sun.”

“Yes, they do, but my people worship the God who made the sun,” Joseph said. “Come now. We must get back.”

****

The two men worked steadily at the business affairs that demanded their attention, and Rashidi was in one part of the house working with the scribe when he heard Joseph shouting. He left at once and ran to where Joseph was standing before a messenger. “What's wrong, Provider?”

“It's my brothers! They're here! They've come to Egypt!”

“Where are they? How do you know this?”

“At all of the stations where foreigners enter I have left a description of my brothers, their tribes, their language. I've been waiting all this time, for I knew that sooner or later they would be caught by the terror of the famine and would come to Egypt to buy food, and now, Rashidi”—Joseph's eyes glowed in a way Rashidi had never seen—“they're here in Egypt!”

Rashidi stared at Joseph dumbfounded. Joseph had a great natural dignity, but he lost that now as he skipped around the room lifting his hands. Tears were running down his face, and the messenger was staring at the Great Provider in astonishment. Rashidi whispered to the messenger, “Leave the room.”

“Yes, sir.”

Rashidi did not watch the messenger go but turned to watch the second-most powerful man in the world crying like a baby.
Well,
he thought to himself,
I've often wondered what it would take to shake Joseph up—and now I know!

The journey from Canaan to Egypt had been difficult, for although the ten sons of Jacob were naturally hearty men, they'd been severely weakened by the famine. Day after day they trudged southward, following the trade route that ran through the arid southland of Canaan all the way to Egypt. At first there were settlements, some large and some no more than a few huts, but as the journey wore on, they passed through long stretches where they saw almost no life.

From time to time they would arrive at a protected desert spring, precious oases in the desert where they actually had to buy their water and store up all they could carry in water bags. The journey to the borders of Egypt took twenty days, and they were all exhausted and not a little apprehensive.

On the night after they crossed the place that one traveler told them was the border of Egypt, they made camp. Their fire was a solitary source of light in the utter darkness, and they huddled around it as if trying to find some comfort in its cheerful blaze. Earlier they had supped on the last of the dried meat they had brought with them, but it had done little to satisfy their hunger.

Levi stared out into the darkness and shook his head. “This is a troubled land,” he said. “I don't like it.” He looked around the circle at the bearded faces of his brothers, their eyes caught by the flickering flames of the fire. “I wish we hadn't come.”

“Hadn't come!” Simeon said heatedly. “We
had
to come. We had no other choice.”

“That's right,” Dan said. “There's no point in talking like that, Simeon.”

A murmur went around the campfire, and Reuben, who was sitting back from the fire, his arms wrapped around his knees, studied the faces of his brothers. They all had a strange, pinched look, as if they had come almost to the end of their strength. As strong as he was, Reuben too felt weakened by the journey, and he could understand what Simeon had said. This place already seemed to be a strange land, and they were only on the border of it. He listened as they spoke in whispers, as if spies and robbers were gathering in around them. Indeed, such a thing was possible!

“One of these days I'm going to be out of the cursed desert.” Zebulun picked up a piece of wood, stuck it into the fire, waited until the tip of it caught, then held it up and stared into the flame. “I'm going to be on a ship,” he said dreamily, “with water all about.”

“And when the ship goes down, you drown!” Issachar snapped. “No, no ships for me.”

Always the practical one, Levi said thoughtfully, “I wonder where we go to buy the food.”

“Why, Egypt, of course!” Naphtali retorted. “That's why we're here!”

“No,” Levi answered crossly, “I mean the exact place! There's got to be a central food supply somewhere. We don't know a soul in Egypt.”

“There'll be someone to help us, I'm sure,” Judah said. He had been silent day after day, and now he stretched and said, “I'm going to sleep. We might still have a long journey ahead of us.”

They all lay down, except for Reuben, who sat up for another hour, keeping the fire going. He stared into the flames blankly, then finally sighed, crawled into his blanket, and fell into a fitful sleep.

****

“Look,” Issachar said, “there comes a train of donkeys.”

Judah had already seen them. “It looks like they're loaded down with bags of grain. Maybe they will tell us where they bought it.”

The train was a group of fierce-looking dark-faced tribesmen. When Judah asked them where they had bought their food, the leader, a tall man with a wicked scar running down his face, said, “You'd better have money. They're not giving anything away.”

Judah smiled. “I didn't think they would, but tell us, do we buy grain from the pharaoh?”

“The pharaoh?” The tribesman laughed loudly. “You'll never see him, not the likes of you. You have to buy it from the Great Provider.”

“I've heard of him,” Judah said. “Where do we find him?” He listened as the man gave instructions, and then the tribesman said, “Watch out for the Provider. He's the one who runs everything.”

“That doesn't sound too promising, does it?” Judah said to Reuben, who had listened to the conversation.

“I guess we don't have any choice,” Reuben said. “Come on and let's get this over with. I'm anxious to get away from this place. I agree with Simeon. I don't like it here at all.”

“Maybe Father was right,” Judah said doubtfully. “It does feel like an evil place.”

“Evil or not, they've got the food. So let's get started.”

Two days later the brothers were stopped by an official wearing an emblem on a cord around his neck. He was a short, muscular man with slate-colored skin and an irate manner. “Where do you come from?” he demanded.

“We are of the tribe of Jacob. Hebrews from Canaan,” Reuben said, staring down at the man.

The official peppered them with questions, then ordered, “Wait here until further notice.”

“Why can't we just buy the food and leave?” Judah said almost desperately. He was quite anxious now to get back to his homeland as quickly as possible.

“If you want food, you'll do as you are told!” the official snapped. “Now, I'll get to you as soon as I can. Get your animals out of the way. There are others coming.”

The delay brought a sense of despondency to the brothers, and it did not help that it lasted for two whole days. The brothers began to complain among themselves, and Zebulun said, “Let's forget it and go home. There's something wrong.”

“We can't go home again without any food,” Reuben said firmly. “We have to humble ourselves, so just make the best of it.”

****

The official, whose name was Hyrim, had an odd look in his eyes as he scurried into the room where the brothers had been told to wait. “All right. I have some orders for you men.”

“Are you going to sell us food?” Judah asked quickly.

“That's not up to me. It's up to the Provider. You must go to the central authority.”

Simeon said quickly, “But there have been others who have gone right over to the storage facility to get their food. We talked with them.”

“Well, you're not going there,” Hyrim snapped. “You're going to the central authority, or you'll get nothing.”

“But why?” Judah pleaded. “Give us some word.”

“I have my orders. You can go to the central authority or not. That's up to you.”

Reuben sighed heavily. “All right, sir. Tell us where it is, and we will go there.”

Hyrim ran off a series of instructions, and soon the weary travelers were on their way. There was grumbling and not a little fear in the faces of the men as they moved along.

“There's something wrong with all this,” Issachar said, stroking the head of his donkey that plodded along beside him. “I don't like it.”

“We've got to do it.” Zebulun shrugged. He looked ahead and said, “I wish we could go as far as the sea. I don't think I'd ever come back here if I could just get on a ship.”

****

Rashidi had never seen Joseph in such a state. The two of them were in Joseph's favorite room. It had a gold-colored ceiling, green malachite lintels over the doors, and colorful friezes along the walls. It served Joseph as a library and lay between his sleeping chamber and the great reception hall. All around were the finest of Egyptian treasures, including lion-footed chairs with rush seats and backs of stamped and gilded leather. Plant stands bore potted flowers that had been carefully grown with precious water brought from the Nile, and there was an inlaid daybed covered with skins and cushions, as well as carved chests on curved legs inlaid with mother-of-pearl and inscribed in gold leaf.

Joseph was walking back and forth in constant motion, his eyes bright. “They're here. They've passed the fortress. I knew it! I knew it! I'm so happy I don't know what to say.”

“My dear friend, you must calm yourself,” Rashidi said. “I've never seen you like this before.”

“I've never had such an opportunity. They're my brothers, Rashidi, my own brothers!”

“Yes, I understand that, but I can't understand why you're so happy to see them.”

“What do you mean? Of course I'm glad to see my brothers!”

Rashidi stared at Joseph, cocking his head. “And these are the same men who beat you and threw you in a pit to die and finally sold you into slavery? I don't think I'd be quite so anxious to see them.”

“Yes, but look how it's turned out. God has been in all of it. Don't you see, Rashidi?” Joseph cried. “If I hadn't been thrown into the pit and sold into slavery, I would never have been here. I would never have had the glory I've found in Egypt. I owe everything to my brothers!”

Rashidi laughed, his eyes almost hidden as his face crinkled. “That's the most fantastic thing I've ever heard, sir.”

“No, it's true!” Joseph insisted. He could not be still but snapped his fingers nervously and paced back and forth, looking frequently toward the door. “It's all been God's doing. I'm convinced of it. All the years I've been in Egypt have been at His direction, for His purpose. When I was a servant in Potiphar's house, and when I was in your prison, I thought about my family. And now they're here to buy grain…. But there's ten of them. That bothers me a little.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I had eleven brothers. What if one of them is dead? I don't think I could bear it.”

“Life is uncertain, Joseph, but perhaps they are all well.”