Ben Oni and Benjamin: A
Contemporary Midrash
Ita Sheres, San
Diego State University
“A voice is heard in Ramah,
lamentation and bitter weeping;
Rachel is weeping for her children;
She refuses to be comforted for her children,
Because they are no more.” (Jeremiah 31:15)
In the midst of relentless skies that highlighted a brilliant red sun, a cloud
suddenly appeared as if out of nowhere; it was an omen of sorts. The party that struggled to keep moving came to a
halt in the middle of the day. There were
five of them – Rachel visibly pregnant, was on the donkey, perspiring from brow to
armpits; she was uncomfortable and in some pain. Her
loyal nurse, Zivia, was wondering about the baby that was now due any day; she thought for
a moment that her mistress was about to fall of the beast’s back and she planned to
be as close as possible at all times; Zivia believed that she could not leave anything to
chance. The other three did not matter
– they were all men ready to move and reach their final destination. Rachel knew that her destiny could not be shared
by them. For a split second she thought about
Jacob (one of the three) and her life with him and without him and she knew, though only
now admitted it to herself, that he hardly mattered; it was all about her and the child
within her – that was her legacy and love and longing.
Jacob was only the tool; and even though he said he loved her, it was so long ago
and it did not really matter, ever. The other
two were Rachel’s first born, Joseph, and another of Jacob’s various sons
(Judah) from the other woman, Leah. Rachel
knew that Joseph was Jacob’s most beloved son; she understood that Jacob intended to
leave him the major portion of his legacy; she also knew that Judah was a fierce
competitor and that he already secured a certain facet of that inheritance though nobody
knew what the exact arrangements were. Jacob
traveled with Joseph at his side everywhere he went and Judah was there as well. Rachel recognized that she had little to worry
about Joseph though she was reluctant to see him with Judah so often; she believed that
Judah was one of those violent sons of Jacob whom she trusted very little. She was sorry to see Joseph drift away from her
and was determined more than ever that this new infant itching to get out will be the heir
to her legacy.
She closed her eyes and
started the meditation process. She
intuitively knew that her life was coming to a close; she remembered that her mother, a
long time ago, told her that everyone knows when it is time; and Rachel knew now that
there was little time left and she focused on the infant within – sheltered and
oblivious to the harsh beauty of this world, but not for too much longer. He was ready to come out and leave his mark on
this whole family but particularly on his mother. And
Rachel accepted. She put her hands on her
bulging stomach and caressed it and whispered to the unseen infant inside.
It was an unforgiving, unyielding landscape that grabbed
her by the throat and eyes – she could barely speak, she was so thirsty; and she
could hardly see anything in front of her because of the wind that was slowly and
methodically kicking up dust. Rachel panicked
for a moment – where will she have this baby? Will
Zivia adjust? She knew that there was no
chance to make it to a shelter and she was not sure about a bend on the road or an olive
tree with wide branches and green leaves; she thought she just spotted a space that could
provide comfort for as long as it takes to give birth to this child – her last one,
her beloved, her heir and triumph, her immortality.
And what great irony that it will all happen here, in Ephrata, Bethlehem
– the tiny village; the barren point on the road from Jerusalem and oh so close to
Hebron. And Rachel knew right there and then
that she will have no room in the Hebron cave where the other matriarchs are buried; she
will be taken in by this place, a tiny dot on the map but a gigantic signpost on the road
to eternity. It will be Rachel’s eternal
resting place and tomb; and she will be comfortable here and Zivia will assist her, and
her youngest will always remember that she was buried as a refugee from her land; as a
brave soul who dared question Jacob’s new ways, as a woman who was looking for a very
special place in the world of the spirit; who was holding on to her ancestors’
beliefs and gentle manners; who was so opposed to Leah’s compromise with Jacob and
his new God.
Yes, he will be told that it was Jacob, her man who
stormed into their home town and brought with him, along with his physical strength and
stamina, a different kind of god and a new expectation, all of which she was suspicious
of; all of which she did not fully understand; and when she confronted him and asked what
it all meant, he merely looked at her and said nothing.
Rachel knew then that she should have insisted, should have demanded an
answer but she was immobilized. She went into
the meadow and contemplated amongst her sheep and in the green grass. The skies were covered with clouds and she
expected some rain but it did not arrive. Rachel
was searching for an answer but the mystery only deepened and there was some concern among
other family members especially her father about this dashing young man. When Jacob offered to pray to his god at that time
of drought and anxiety, they were all perplexed and annoyed – how does he dare
interfere with their age old rituals? Why is
his god any better than theirs? Laban
especially was angered and he tried his best to put as many obstacles on Jacob’s path
as he could conjure up. Rachel had very
little in common with her father but she thought he was on the right track in this regard. When Rachel finally understood that her
husband’s god was the source of a tribal covenant promised to Jacob and the rest of
his family, it was too late to do anything about it.
Rachel was troubled by the implied bloody sacrifices demanded of the men, who were
subject to that covenant, but her voice was muted and she retreated into her inner world. Jacob loved her in his own way which more and more
was not Rachel’s and while she tried to satisfy him, she was also torn by her
commitment to a world different than Jacob’s. Rachel
was slowly wasting away because there was no one to confide in, no one to consult with. Ultimately, she focused on her legacy to her
children and that was what it was all about.
First came Joseph and then this tiny defenseless
“little guy” who just started budging. Rachel
was now ready to dismount and motioned to Zivia who was immediately there to assist her. She slowly abandoned the not so comfortable seat
on the donkey’s back and sat down in the shade of a terebinth tree which presented
itself to them at that exact moment. The men
were slightly irritated but the women did not care; Rachel was about to break water and
the delivery process had to begin.
Rachel closed her eyes and
saw herself back home in her mother’s tent with the other girls who were there for
the end of the day ceremony of “unrolling the stone from the mouth of the well.” She remembered that they always looked forward to
it because they tried to play a guessing game - “who would be the guy this
time?” And will he be able to do it by himself or will he need the help of others? It was always a challenge to roll that stone over
so that at least some of the flock could have their daily portions of water. Rachel and her mates would watch with interest and
delight and eventually clap their hands when the “deed” was done. At the tent they would all get ready and put on
their nice clothes – long flowing white linen dresses that signaled their
availability to the right man.
Rachel felt quite a bit of discomfort now; she had pain
slowly developing in her back; it was dull but getting more pronounced. Rachel knew that it was the baby’s time and
she raised her hand to alert Zivia to the occasion.
And Zivia was already there, sitting right by her side watching her every
wince and contortion. She prepared a large
wet towel and applied a portion of it to Rachel’s parched lips; she sucked on it so
hard that she could feel some drops coming down her throat and it was a relief though
hardly sufficient. Rachel’s eyes closed
again and she was back at that well on that fateful evening when Jacob came running by. She saw him right away and long before he noticed
her, and she remembered that she immediately guessed who he was. He did not know her, or so he told her later, and
when he did finally notice Rachel, he was struck by her erect body and penetrating dark
eyes. She was beautiful but in a way that was
different from other good looking girls – there was something in her demeanor and
posture that was defiant and somewhat arrogant and impulsive; she seemed to have announced
to those around her that she was not submissive, not ready to be told what to do and how
to do it. It was not rebelliousness, it was
an attitude that was so clear that it was not ever debated; it was a part of her and she
was proud of it. And Jacob, the calculating,
pampered young man from Canaan, just rolled his sleeves and the stone almost at one and
the same stroke. All the other girls were
impressed; Rachel merely observed and asked him to come to her mother’s tent. He did, with obvious abundance and eagerness. She could tell that he was hooked!
The pains were now coming
frequently and sometimes furiously; it was labor and birth pangs. Rachel heard herself moaning quietly and
then with more and more vigor and intensity; the pains were all over her body and so
pronounced and penetrating – there was no escape; and Zivia just tried to wipe her
forehead clean and whisper a few comforting phrases to her.
Rachel heard her mother’s name which Zivia used repeatedly, something
to the effect that her mother would be so proud of her and expect her to deliver a
beautiful and healthy baby. Zivia was ready
with herbs and potions and the pomegranate head of the icon of the goddess of
child-bearing. Rachel clutched it to her
bosom and screamed with pain – it was becoming more and more difficult. Zivia now took off Rachel’s head scarf and
asked the men to pitch a tent right there; they complied with no hesitation; and within
minutes, a tent sprang up next to the terebinth there, at the entrance to Bethlehem. The sight was comical but it was vital for the two
women who were engaged in the business of birthing. Rachel
was now sitting on a heavy rock that Zivia found for her; it was all enclosed in the tent
and the two of them faced the task – a baby was coming into the world and they had to
protect him from the forces of evil that were certainly lurking all over. Rachel was still clutching the goddess figurine
and Zivia was offering comfort with more cool bandages and towels applied to Rachel’s
body which was now almost completely naked. Zivia
was sitting behind the aching woman trying to hold her up in a sitting position using her
hands and body to support Rachel. They both
knew that close co-operation is a key to a successful delivery and they both looked for
cues from each other. Zivia was focused on
Rachel’s distorted face and tried to be practical rather than emotional; she
attempted to remain calm and collected and not betray any negative behavior because she
knew that Rachel might lose heart if she felt that things are not going right. Rachel, though intuited that this will not be a
normal birth process, focused all of her energy on pushing the infant outside of her body
as quickly as she could. She knew in a more
powerful way than before that she will not make it past the delivery and she was in a
hurry to complete it all. It was important
that she convey to Zivia what only she knew; it was particularly urgent that she fully
comprehend what was about to happen in this tent pitched on this plot of land in Bethlehem
because Rachel would not have the opportunity to witness her son’s progression from
infant to adult; she will not have the chance to see how good looking he would be, how
tall; how regally above everybody else; how beloved and how devoted to her legacy, her
view of the universe and its abundance and beauty. She
will have to impress on Zivia to become her surrogate and to instruct this last born son
that his mother was a fiercely independent woman who would not let anyone rob her of the
opportunity to be part of this majestic universe; and that no one, not even his father,
could take away from this small child, the same insight and understanding and willingness
to witness events that would be momentous and far reaching just like his mother witnessed
the same. He will have to come to terms with
his father’s God who she thought was not at all what she was yearning for; not at all
an inclusive, peace-loving Deity. Somehow,
Rachel felt that He might be a source of discord and pain and this last born of hers will
have to understand and make room for Him. Rachel
already accepted that the she will be put to rest right here, on the margins of this
unfriendly land, like an alien who did not fit into Jacob’s ultimate covenantal
scheme; and she has already made her peace with that.
Above all, though, just like her, her new born will fully realize that the
life of the spirit is a gift that he will have to cherish and cultivate; that the world is
vast and that time is short to be able to find out and explore everything; but he will
have to thirst and quest and journey; just like his mother, just like Rachel –
Jacob’s beloved who answered to no one.
Rachel was perspiring
heavily; she was also short of breath and while on the one hand she knew what a big task
she set for herself, she also understood that time is quickly running out and she had to
take drastic action to help the baby push himself out.
She was losing her strength and holding on to the figurine with all her
might. Zivia was doing her best to make her
feel comfortable and safe. She was now slowly
massaging her stomach hoping that the infant will assist and move out more quickly; Zivia
could actually feel his tiny body in motion and she was grasping for him (she was hoping
that he would be a she; Rachel did not allow her to even think that).
Rachel remembered her
wedding day – it was a long time ago – and how festive that occasion was; she
could still see her mother, who was quite old but very radiant, sitting at the head of a
table full of delicacies. Ischa was watching
her youngest daughter celebrate this event in her life.
Rachel talked to her frequently about the meaning of this affair and she
knew that her mother had second thoughts about it even though she also understood that she
wanted her to be safe and secure especially because her own days were numbered and that
she (Rachel) might need a husband who would protect her.
Ischa finally told Rachel that while she will lose her virginity and special
powers as a result of that wedding, she will still be a significant force in her
husband’s life because of her own legacy. They
both had reservations about Jacob who traveled from Canaan to Haran and who decided to
settle with them. While the idea of staying
close to her own household was pleasing to Ischa, she was unsettled about Jacob’s
motives and his ability to take care of her youngest.
Ischa knew how independent and free spirited Rachel was and she watched her grow
and become ever more daring and ever more beautiful.
She knew deep in her heart that it would take a very special man to satisfy
Rachel’s hunger and she was not sure that Jacob was that man. Both mother and daughter believed that Jacob
had a violent streak within him and that while he was not a bad man, he was beholden to
forces that were beyond his control. They
heard him talk about a covenant with a male god who was unknown in this part of the world,
and they were perturbed. When the wedding
celebration was over, Ischa watched with some trepidation for signs from Rachel; at one
point she even asked her bluntly:
“Is this the
life you waited for?”
And Rachel answered:
“Mother, this
is what I agreed to; I am content.”
“But are you
happy? Do you still grow? Is your spirit soaring?”
To which Rachel replied:
“Yes, I am
happy and my spirit is ready to soar. But I
fear for my legacy and
I know I am
losing control.”
Ischa was troubled when she heard those words. She
understood what it all meant and she was helpless. How
could she - a woman getting on in years - have an impact?
Was not Laban, her husband, in some control now? Ischa did count and her voice was the most
significant for Rachel who hoped to make a difference.
But Rachel’s response to her questions left a bad taste in Ischa’s
mouth and she retreated to her quarters. She
recognized that Jacob’s covenant was the issue and she had no idea what to do about
it. Soon after that, she passed on and Rachel
missed her immensely.
Rachel intuited her mother’s reactions to almost
anything that happened in her life, let alone marriage and family and status. She tried to emulate her and continue as fiercely
as she could in her footsteps; along the way, she sometimes halted for a few moments and
reflected on the path ahead. As the years
went by, she was losing confidence and as soon as Jacob started talking about returning to
his home and parents, she was restless and despondent.
Ischa would have known how to respond to that new situation; she would have
directed her and she would have had an answer. But
Ischa was dead and while Rachel could still visit her resting place in the family
catacomb, she could not get an answer to the escalating despair that she felt in her life. Indeed, that dreaded covenant was becoming the
center of their lives and Rachel was terrified; she knew that there was little room for
her in that plan.
And now she was here in
the middle of the road – ready to bring forth the heir to her bequest. Rachel did not imagine that that would be the face
of death; not here in this foreign terrain and harsh atmosphere where men were busy
fighting their wars and getting ready to conquer and shed blood. Rachel envisioned it all so differently, so much
more peacefully. She was quickly retreating
from her mother’s way of life and her upbringing in the softer valley of the
Euphrates. She knew back then when she could
still talk to her mother that extreme changes are being wrought by Jacob; changes that
will spell her doom; but she was not sure how to react and how to fight and her mother was
fading away. As soon as they all left her
mother’s house, Rachel was despondent. When
they finally arrived in Canaan and settled scores with Jacob’s brother, she was on
her way to further decline. And then came the
slaughter of the Hivites and the other woman’s violent sons. Rachel was resigned to a life of terror. She could now see clearly what was obscured
before and what she feared the most; she could see that a new life was unfolding for her
and she knew she did not want it. Just a few
months ago she was concerned about leaving her mother’s house and her childhood
haunts; now she knew why. No, she was not a
seer or a witch with a cauldron; she just had a premonition and it spelled calamity. Why was it happening? Why all the brutality? The horror? Was
it the new god of Jacob, that One with the covenant?
Was it the new country? She was
not convinced one way or the other and she was getting confused. Rachel merely felt the void within growing ever
wider and the pain stronger.
At this moment, Zivia was
sure that the infant was ready and she quietly urged Rachel to push as forcibly as she
could. Rachel understood that the moment had
arrived and she was wailing ever so loudly. She
was sitting there on the cold rock ready to deliver and she was in so much pain that she
could not hear too well what Zivia was saying. She
was convinced she was pushing as hard as she could but that infant was not there yet. Zivia’s hands were busy with her private
parts; she thought she could feel the tiny head but could not quite grasp it; he was there
and yet not there. Zivia was fully focused on
her task and while groping for the infant inside Rachel’s womb, she was also paying
attention to Rachel and was trying to alleviate her pain with herbs and medicine she
normally used for this process, but it seemed to be of no avail. Zivia finally decided to concentrate on the coming
child and tried to peer inside Rachel’s vagina – why was the baby delaying its
entry into the world? Is there an obstruction
somewhere? Rachel was beginning to lose
strength and Zivia who was mindful of it, tried to sooth and relax her; she knew that at
this crucial juncture, Rachel must take a more active role.
But Rachel was hardly responding. Zivia’s
hands went further into Rachel’s body and she was suddenly hit with a realization
that the baby was not the way he should be; it was not the head that she was feeling, it
was another part of his body, very flat and slippery, more like a foot. What happened? Zivia was trying to improvise and while she had
significant experience as a mid-wife, she was being very cautious and not ready to jump to
any conclusions too quickly. Rachel must
exhaust the normal process of pushing the baby out but she was not as co-operative as she
could be and it had been more than six hours now that she was attempting to deliver with
no palpable success. Zivia knew that six
hours of labor is not unusual, but she was getting apprehensive because there was no
significant progress so far. It was almost as
if Rachel was laboring for nothing except more pain.
Zivia tried her best to cajole her into action but the response was feeble. The mid-wife realized that more drastic action was
needed.
Rachel, in the meantime,
was losing her grip on life and she still did not hear her baby’s cry. Her mind was now in a fog and images were racing
through her head with no apparent coherence: she was back in Haran with all the shepherds
playing games and waiting leisurely for the male shepherds to get together and unroll the
stone on the well; she saw one of those shepherds whom she loved to watch and with whom
she laughed a lot – what happened to him, she wondered? Then she heard the screams of the slaughtered in
Shechem where the brothers were on a killing spree and where devastation spread like
lightening. She was outside that day and
could hear the commotion and the voice of this one woman who pleaded for her man’s
life but she was immediately silenced. Rachel
recalled putting her hands on her ears – she did not want to hear the voices of
anguish and distress; she was in no position to help and she felt more and more outrage. Her mind was now playing tricks on her and she was
on to another scene in the fields with a few other women who were gathering some flowers
and who were awaiting the start of a big festival – it was serene and tranquil and
the sun was so soft, flickering on the face of the river.
She could also see her mother’s face fleeting by and she moaned more
forcefully.
Zivia determined at that
point that the baby was lying upside down and that she had to vigorously interfere with
the birth process; she clearly saw that if the child was to be saved, she will have to do
her utmost. She too remembered Ischa, and the
day she promised her that no matter what happened, she would stay with her daughter
wherever she went; little did the two of them realize that the journey will take them to
Bethlehem. Zivia bent her body and peered
forward into Rachel’s open birth canal – it was a dangerous procedure and she
was looking upwards with closed eyes begging the heavenly forces for assistance; for a
moment she stopped moving and then thought she heard a rustle and a soft wind started
blowing into the tent. Zivia knew that she
received the message she was awaiting and she was confident.
An hour or so later
Zivia’s delicate maneuver to pull the baby’s body out of Rachel’s womb was
successful. Rachel was in a stupor –
pain did not matter anymore; she was too weak to cry and she had no more tears in her
eyes. Zivia tried to give her some water from
the almost empty jug but it kept pouring back out onto her chest and thighs; her eyes were
widely open and she watched Zivia with so much intensity that the mid-wife was frightened. The baby was in Zivia’s control and she
pulled him out almost violently from Rachel’s body concerned for the integrity of his
head that came out last. He was now in the
world, at Rachel’s feet; she was all of a sudden at peace with no ache in her body;
there was only this overwhelming feeling of relief and lightness. Rachel was smiling and reaching down for the baby. Zivia accommodated her quickly and placed the
baby, still full of blood, in his mother’s outstretched arms. Rachel looked at him, her eyes wide open and her
body limp with exhaustion. She managed to
whisper:
“Oh, precious
son of my misery – Ben Oni! Ben Oni!”
She then closed her eyes and started drifting away; echoes of the shrieks of the
men and women at Shechem were still in her ears but they were confused with the
baby’s piercing cries for food and shelter; she knew that Zivia will take care. In the distance, she thought she heard Jacob enter
the tent and cry out loudly:
“This is my Benjamin; son of my right arm and
strength!”
Rachel could not object; she gasped in a final farewell. |
