The next morning he awoke early before the sun had fully risen over the mountains in the distance. He impulsively set the stone that had been his headrest upright and poured olive oil from his pouch over it as he had seen his father and his grandfather do when they were consecrating an altar. “I shall not forget this place,” he said. “It must have a name, a name separate from the village nearby. I’ll call it Bethel, for it is indeed the house of God.”
He paused beside the pillar and thought. It seemed important that he make some vow, some commitment in the place where the great El Shaddai of his father and grandfather had sworn such promises to him. “If,” he began, not wanting to vow or promise something he could not manage. “If this God of my fathers will help and protect me on this journey and give me food and clothes and bring me back safely to my father … then,” here he paused and thought. Here would be his part of the agreement and it must be something appropriate and not so difficult he couldn’t do it. He continued slowly and thoughtfully, “then I will choose El Shaddai, Elohim as my God! This memorial pillar will become a true altar and place of worship.”
He paused again and tried to think what sort of promise would his father make if he were dealing directly with his God. “I will give You back a tenth,” he said at last, “of everything You give me.”
As he turned and continued on his way, his mother’s warning flashed through his mind: “Be careful around Laban.” He wondered briefly what she meant. Then still glowing with the experience of the night before and the assurance that El Shaddai, the almighty God, was to be with him, he felt able to deal with whatever might arise.
* * *
It did not take Esau long to discover that Jacob had fled. His first impulse was to hurry after him and wreak his revenge. However, his friends soon convinced him that it was his mother he had to deal with, not Jacob. Jacob could be punished later. With his anger only slightly abated, he stormed over to confront his mother.
Rebekah had been expecting him. She had fixed honey cakes and poured out a cup of her best date wine. She saw him as he came up the path beside the brook Besor, swinging his riding prod viciously at the reeds along the bank. She rose to meet him with peaceful words, but before she could say anything, he burst out, “So … where is that heel-grabber, supplanter brother of mine?” He stood in the door of her tent, feet wide apart, his eyes blazing with hatred and his hands angrily twisting the prod.
“Come sit and I’ll tell you,” she offered.
“I’ll not sit in this tent,” he said with an ominous toss of his head.
“If you wish to hear anything from me, you’ll come sit and have some of these honey cakes I baked for you.”
Esau seldom had honey cakes as his wives were busy with children and gossiping and didn’t take time to make such things.
He reluctantly came and sat on the cushion she offered and then took a fistful of the honey cakes and gulped down the wine before he again demanded, “Where has my brother gone? What mischief is he up to now?”
Rebekah motioned for the serving girls to take the screaming children out so they could talk, and then she turned to Esau. “When you sold your birthright, did you not realize what you had done? And when you married these quarrelsome idol worshipers, did you think to receive the blessing of your grandfather Abraham?”
Esau dropped the riding prod and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. He shifted uneasily on the cushion. “Women don’t count,” he said. “It’s the man who must deal with his gods.”
Rebekah sat looking at him and feeling a great sorrow for this willful, wild son. She didn’t know how she could explain. “You want to know where your brother Jacob has gone?” she asked finally.
Esau’s whole demeanor changed. His face took on a sullen sneer as he said, “Yes, I demand to know.”
“He has left for my brother’s family in Haran.” She could see that Esau was visibly shaken. He had not even imagined such a thing.
“Why’s he going there?”
“He’s going to find a bride who is suitable.”
“What do you mean … suitable?” Now he was hostile, ready to defend his own choice of wives.
“You don’t understand, do you?”
“Do you mean he thinks he’ll find someone more beautiful?”
“He’s looking for someone who knows our ways and follows our customs, even understands why we worship a God who can’t be seen.”
“Every one of my wives is beautiful. He won’t find anyone in Haran more beautiful.”