No Bullshit Bible Lesson #14: Jacob's Deceit

Genesis, Chapter 27:

As God promised Abraham, his son Isaac became a great man. But even great men grow old and Isaac, no exception to the rule, found himself blind and infirm. Knowing that his days were numbered, he called for his eldest son, Esau.
        "Esau," he said, "I am seriously old. I could die, like, any minute. Go out to the field and bring me back some nice, fresh venison and I will bless you before I die."
        "Okay, Dad! I'd be glad to buy your blessings rather than have them given out of love!" And off he went.

Rebekah overheard this and called Jacob, the son she loved, over to her.
        "Jacob, your dad is going to bless Esau in return for a steak. Go out to the flock and kill two baby goats. Then you can bring him the meat he loves so much while Esau is still trying to hunt one, and you'll get the blessing."
        "Dad is totally going to see through that. If he touches me, he'll know I'm not Esau because I'm not covered in hair like Esau is. Dad'll see through it and curse me!"
        "Oh, stop whining. If he curses you, I'll bear the curse. Now do as I say."

So, he went and killed some goat-babies and Rebekah made some tasty venison. She then gave Jacob some of Esau's clothes to wear and strapped bits of the goat' pelts to his hands and neck, to simulate the frightening mutant hairiness of Esau.

Jacob approached Isaac.
        "Father, I have your food."
        "Who are you?"
        "Um. I'm totally Esau. Now eat up so you can bless me."
        "How'd you hunt down and cook a critter so fast?" he asked suspiciously.
        "Oh. Uh...God? Yeah, that's it...God gave it to me."
        "Hmmm....C'mere and let me feel you," he said, foreshadowing the statements of future Clergymen.

Jacob stepped forward and Isaac took his hands.
        "The voice is Jacob's, but the hands are Esau's"

Despite the observation that he sounded just like Jacob, Isaac bought it. Hook, Line and Sinker.
        "Okay, bring me the venison before it gets cold, then I can bless you."

So they ate the venison and bread together and had some nice wine.
        "Okay, boy: May the Lord bless you with abundant rain and fat crops and lots of corn and wine. Your servants will bow before you, nations will bow before you, your brothers will bow before you and, y'know, the usual stuff about people that bless you being blessed and people that curse you being cursed."
        "Awesome. Thanks, Pop."

He split. Moments later, Esau came in with some fresh venison.
        "Hey, sit up, Dad. I brought some venison for you so you'll bless me!"
        "Who are you?"
        "Esau. Remember, you sent me to get you some num-nums?"

Isaac began trembling with rage.
        "I have just eaten venison and blessed the person that brought it to me."
        "Oh...bless me, too, Dad!"
        "You don't get it: Your brother came in here and tricked me into giving him your blessing."
        "Aw, that little shit! First he took my birthright, and now my damn blessing?! Well, you have to have a spare blessing for me, right?"
        "Well, I already made him your Master, decreed that all his brethren are his servants, and made sure he'll be good on corn and wine forever. Is there anything I missed that might be left over for you?"
        "Aw, just give me something." He was now on the verge of whining.
        "Okay, you'll...uh...have rain and good crops, you'll serve your brother very well and...let's see....one day you'll break free of his authority."

Esau took his half-assed blessing and thought about how much he hated his little dip-shit brother. He decided he was going to kill him as soon as Isaac died. And he wasn't too quiet about it either, because word got back to his Mom.

When Rebekah heard about Esau's fratricidal plans, she warned Jacob to run away and stay with her brother until Esau cooled off. Then she went and told Isaac that she sure hopes Jacob doesn't marry one of those slutty girls from Heth. Isaac likely wondered where the hell that came from. I certainly did.

No Bullshit Bible Lesson #13: Isaac comes into his own.

Genesis, Chapters 25-26:

Now that Isaac had gotten a wife, Abraham decided to remarry, and he did. And his new wife had a whole bunch of kids, who Abraham gave presents and sent away so that Isaac wouldn’t have to share his inheritance. Abraham did finally die, aged 175. And Isaac did not, in fact, have to share his inheritance with anyone.

Isaac and Ishmael buried Abraham next to Sarah.

Having finished the task of burying his father, Ishmael went back home and did what people did then: he had a lot of babies. Isaac, in turn, attempted to do the same, but was momentarily prevented from doing so because his wife, much like his mother, was totally infertile. Isaac was a bit smarter than his dad though, and instead of just feeling sorry for himself, he went and asked God to fix it. God did, and soon Isaac and Rebekah were expecting twins.

Rebekah had something of a rough pregnancy and went to ask God why.
        “You have two nations in you,” He said, “One of your kid will be the patriarch of a strong people, who will be subservient to the weaker ones of your other child.”
        “Oh.”

The twins were Esau, who was born red and possibly hairy, and Jacob. Finally, after twenty years of marriage, Isaac had some heirs.

The boys grew up, Esau was a decent hunter, and Jacob was pretty boring and lived in tents. Isaac and Rebekah, not being the best parents, each picked one child to love. Isaac loved Esau, because they shared a love of venison, and Rebekah loved Jacob, presumably because Isaac got to pick first.

One day Esau stumbled out of the field, nearing death from exertion. He came to Jacob’s tent, where he was making some tasty-looking red stew.
        “Jacob, I am totally in need of some food. Help me out, huh?”
        “Umm....Tell you what; I will sell you some stew in return for your birthright.”
        “Well, I am dying,” Esau said, too weak to notice what a dick his brother was being, “guess my birthright isn’t much good to me dead.”
        “Deal, then?”
        “Sure.”

So Esau sold his birthright for some bread and lentil stew, then went on his way.

Isaac and Rebekah, meanwhile, found themselves in the middle of a famine and had to move. As for their destination, God told Isaac where to go and reiterated the promises of greatness that he had made to Abraham. So Isaac settled down in Gerar.

In Gerar, which was within Abimelech’s lands, he pulled the same crap on Abimelech that his dad had done: he told everyone that his hot wife was actually his sister, because he was paranoid that people would kill him to take her. Rich people have always been paranoid about being killed on the street, apparently.

Of course, when Abimelech figured out what was up, he called Isaac out on his shit, then had word spread that anyone that messed with Isaac or Rebekah would be put to death.

This allowed Isaac time to tend the fields and he saw a hundred-fold return on his investment and God blessed him. This trend kept up and Isaac became fabulously wealthy and the Philistines were pretty jealous. So jealous, in fact, that they went and filled in all the wells that had been dug by Abraham’s servants.

Abimelech then went to Isaac and said, “You should just go, man. You’re just...you’re too awesome for us.” Because, truly, Isaac was like a movie star living in Flint, Michigan.

So Isaac left and went to...Gerar? Maybe it was a different place called Gerar. Yeah...like moving from Detroit, Michigan to Detroit, Oregon. Or Paris, France to Paris, Texas. Anyway, he left Gerar and went to Gerar and he had all the wells re-dug. The herdsmen of Gerar claimed that the water was theirs, so Isaac’s people had to dig another, but the herdsmen claimed that one, too. So they had to keep doing that until everyone had enough water and the herdsmen stopped being such babies and learned to share.

All this well-digging ended up in Beer-sheba, where God came to him.
        “Hey.”
        “Oh, hey God. How’s it hangin’?”
        “Good. Listen, just wanted to let you know I got your back. Me an’ your old man were tight, so I’m lookin’ out for you because I told him I would,” He said, sounding like a cop taking on a rookie partner in a movie.

So Isaac built an altar and pitched a tent and, just for good measure, dug one more well. Shortly after that, Abimelech came up from Gerar with a friend of his as well as the Captain of the Army.

        “Um...why are you here? I know you hate me; you kicked me off your land.”
        “Oh. Uh, well...y’see...We noticed you’re friends with God and all, so we thought maybe we could make a deal. Y’know we kicked you out and stuff, but we did it peacefully, right? I mean, we haven’t harmed you. We just thought, maybe you could, like, not harm us either?”
        “Sure. Here’s some food.”

And they ate, spent the night, and went in peace. The peace he had made with Abimelech, coupled with the subsequent finding of water, had Isaac feeling pretty good. Then Esau had to go and spoil it by marrying some daughter of Hittites, which spoiled Isaac’s mood and Rebekah’s.

No Bullshit Bible Lesson #12: Kissin' Cousins

Genesis, Chapter 24:

The death of his wife, Sarah, left Abraham alone and very, very old. He sent for his eldest servant and asked him to fondle his thigh.
        “Nameless servant, I need you to do something for me. Swear that you will not choose my son’s wife from the wretched asses who live here, but that you’ll get him a nice little honey from my home country, someone related to me, preferably.”
        “Sure. But what if she doesn’t want to follow me all the way back here? Should I take Isaac out there?”
        “No! Whatever you do, don’t bring him there! If she won’t follow you, you’re off the hook.”

So the servant swore that he wouldn’t get Isaac a wife from the despicable Canaanites he lived amongst and that he wouldn’t bring him to the despicable place that his father came from, and would respect Abraham’s wishes that Isaac should only marry a cousin, or closer relative if possible. Thus, he set out for Mesopotamia, and the land of Nahor that Abraham escaped from.

When he arrived, he spotted a well and thought it would be a good place to pick up chicks. Presumably quite tired from his journey, he decided that he was proposing (for Isaac) to the first girl who was human enough to not refuse him water when he asked. No sooner had he decided that than Rebekah, one of Isaac’s cousins, came out to get some water.
        “Excuse me, but do you think you could spare some water for this poor, tired traveller?”
        “Sure.”
        “THANK YOU, GOD.”

So, upon verifying that, yes, her union to Isaac would be a game of genetic Russian Roulette, he gave her an earring and some bracelets and went to meet the family. They were very nice to him and gave him water to wash his feet and stuff, but he refused to eat the meat they offered until he had told them of his purpose for being there.

He then retold, word-for-word, the tale so far. In excruciating detail. Right up until the point that he came in the door.
        “Now,” he said, “How’s about it? Can I take your daughter and marry her to a cousin she’s never met that, for all you know, I could have made up, just because I claim it was a task from God?”
        “Well, yeah. If God said it, who are we to argue? Take her, total stranger. Take her in the name of the Lord and give her to your master, who we assume you have not fabricated.”
        “Awesome.”
        “Can we have about ten days to get used to the idea of losing our beloved Rebekah?”
        “Time is money, people. As I’ve already given all of you gold and jewels, I think it only fair that you let me get out of this rat-hole with your daughter.”
        “You got it.”

Rebekah agreed to this, so they got her all ready the next morning and blessed her for the journey.
        “Go, daughter,” Rebekah’s family said, “Be the mother to billions of people, and let them possess the gates of those who hate them.”

That may seem like a strange blessing to you, but there must have been a reason Abraham didn’t want Isaac setting foot in that place. Such blessings are likely indicative of that position. Anyway, they got on their camels and headed back to give Rebekah over to Isaac.

So one day, as Isaac was out meditating, he saw the camels crest the horizon and ran out to meet them.

        “Who’s that running over here like an overexcited child?” asked Rebekah.
        “That is my master,” replied the servant.

Throwing a veil over her face, she jumped from the camel to meet her new husband. When Isaac got to them and was eager to meet his new wife, the servant decided to tell Isaac the whole story of what he had done in what can only be assumed was excruciatingly tedious detail.

When Isaac had escaped the tedium of his servant’s tale, he took Rebekah back to his mother’s tent and married her. He loved her very much and the marriage helped him get over the death of his mommy. And the world waited for Freud to come around and explain that.

No Bullshit Bible Lesson #11: Isaac

Genesis, Chapters 22-23:

When Abraham was hanging out at Abimelech's place, he was visited by God,
        “Abraham.”
        “Yes?”
        “So....you know that miracle kid your wife had? Isaac?”
        “Uh...yeah.”
        “Turns out, I’m gonna need to take him back. So, I need for you to go to Moriah, and sacrifice him to me on a to-be-disclosed mountain.”
        “Okay. First thing in the morning good for you?”
        “Sure.”

True to his word, Abraham packed up and set out to sacrifice his only (now that Ishmael had been sent away) son to God. He traveled for three days to reach the spot where he was to needlessly kill his son and only heir, with nary a lingering doubt all the while. Seeing the place in the distance, they pulled to a stop and Abraham told his servant to wait while he went to “worship.”

Abraham and Isaac went to the place of sacrifice, the boy carrying all the firewood,
        “Father,” called Isaac.
        “Yes?”
        “Um...I notice you have a torch for the fire and a knife for the killing and plenty of wood for the burning, but you seem to have forgotten the lamb to sacrifice.”
        “God will provide the lamb,” Abraham lied. Isaac, gullible with youth, accepted this, not seeing that God providing His own sacrifice was a little like a birthday-boy providing his own presents.

When they got to the spot, Abraham built an altar and tied up Isaac who, for his part, seemed unconcerned that there was no lamb in sight as he was being bound and placed onto an altar by his knife-weilding father. With this part of the task complete, Abraham grasped his knife and brought it down for the killing blow.

        “Abraham!” called an angel from the heavens.
        “Uh...what? I’m trying to kill my son here.”
        “You don’t have to kill the kid. I get the idea, you are clearly scared shitless of me, seeing as how you were totally willing to kill your only son just because I told you to,” the angel said, speaking of God in the first person for some reason.

Looking up, Abraham spotted a ram behind him (somehow) with its horns stuck in a thicket. So, clearly needing to fulfill a bloodlust, whether his own or God’s, he killed that instead.

        “Oh, hey,” came the angel’s voice again, “since you were totally willing to kill Isaac, I am so gonna multiply your seed.”

Abraham thought this sounded pretty groovy and went back home. God apparently was okay with a relatively loose definition of “seed,” because it was Abraham’s brother that ended up having his seed greatly multiplied, having 12 children with two women.

Sarah, however, never gave Abraham any more children, as she died at the age of 127. Abraham wept for her and, in his mourning, sought a place to bury her. As a powerful and respected man, a quite nice field/cave combo was gifted to him for this purpose.
        “How much do I owe you for this?” Abraham asked Ephron, the owner of the plot.
        “No, man. It’s a gift,” replied Ephron.
        “Come on, here. How much? I want to pay you. What’s the place worth?”
        “It’s worth 400 sheckels. That’s like, nothing. Just take the land and bury your wife.”

But Abraham was stubborn and gave Ephron the 400 sheckels, because he wanted to be sure that he could use the land as a family plot. Thus was born the deathcare industry.