When her brother refused to believe this was indeed Isaac’s wife, she determined to prove it to him. She would bring him to this rooftop, or, better still, to a window in his own apartments and let him see for himself.
The plan succeeded far beyond her imagining, and she could not have been more pleased. Her brother was at first incredulous, then amazed, and finally angry. “This Isaac has dealt deceitfully,” he muttered. “He could have made me look foolish. He has obviously been willing to risk someone lying with his wife and having to be stoned for the offense.”
“My brother,” Anatah said after she had enjoyed his ranting sufficiently, “it’s no more than his father, Abraham, managed with your father. You should have been more cautious.”
“It’s true! His father did deceive us in the same way.” Abimelech frowned and sat down among the cushions of his couch. Taking off his crown he absentmindedly sat, turning it in his hands as he thought. The crown had been worn by his father, and as he looked down at it, he thought bitterly of how both his father and he himself had been deceived by this family. With a sudden swift movement, he put the crown back on his head and adjusted it so that it felt comfortable. He stood up and glared at Anatah. “I will see this so-called friend of mine and have it out once and for all. I’ll not punish him openly, but I’ll see that many difficulties are placed in his path.” As he left the room he muttered to himself, “Why should the gods give two such beautiful women to one family?”
Anatah, hearing him, turned away. “They don’t even worship the goddess,” she said, frowning. She was still in love with Isaac, and it made her furious that he had been able to find such a beauty and have two handsome sons without once acknowledging the goddess. She had been taught that such people would be cursed with barrenness, their land lie fallow, and their animals give no milk. She believed that only the goddess could control the vital, life-giving force. Only she could bless a woman with children, flocks with young, and make dead, brown seeds spring to life.
* * *
In the days that followed Isaac worked with his men to combat the formidable creeping blight of the famine. “We must dig ditches and raise water from the wells to fill them. In this way we can sow the seed that we have and be assured of a harvest even without the rain,” he said. “When the land has water, things will grow.”
Every day his men rode out and kept the water flowing in the irrigation ditches. Gradually they saw the seeds they had planted sprout and miraculously begin to grow. They hardly noticed that the king’s men rode out to see what was happening. They had mixed opinions. To some it was miraculous, but to most of them it was unnatural and against their religion. Only the gods could send rain, and to trick them by getting water from the ground was dangerous.
Abimelech paid little attention to their reports. He could not believe the work of mere men could defeat a famine that had obviously been sent by the gods. “Come see for yourself,” his men challenged, but he had other things to do. So it came as a great surprise when it was reported that Isaac and his men had reaped a hundredfold harvest and were willing to sell grain in the markets of Gerar.
He still held a grudge against Isaac for deceiving him, and he had expected him to have nothing but evil fortune. Now to find that he had succeeded in producing an abundant harvest in the midst of a famine was an outrage. Furthermore, when it was reported to the king that Isaac had given credit to his God, saying, “It is Elohim, known also as El Shaddai, who has caused me to be blessed,” he was furious.
“It is an open affront to our gods. Anat and Baal will not forgive such a challenge to their power,” the people began to whisper among themselves. Then the king called a conference with his advisers and finally with the priestesses in the temple of Anat, and they all agreed that something must be done.
They first secretly told the people to refuse to buy the grain Isaac’s men had grown, but the people were too hungry to listen. Even in the king’s household, when Egyptian grain ran out, his servants bought the despised grain from Isaac’s men. “He has gotten too strong for us,” the king lamented. “With his wells and grain, fat cattle, and ready water, he may as well be king.”
With that thought, a conspiracy grew labeling Isaac an enemy of the gods and goddess of their people. “He has grown wealthy with his wells and water,” the people said. “He has benefited from the drought. Worst of all, he has given the credit to his God.”
Abimelech was ready to listen to the advice of his sister Anatah. “It is useless to punish Isaac,” she said. “The problem is bigger than his wells and the harvest. We must show that our gods are stronger than his.”