Remember, Abraham, wanting to secure a future for his son within his own lineage, sent Eliezer on this crucial mission. But it wasn't just a simple "go find a nice girl" kind of errand. It was fraught with potential danger, and as we soon see, outright treachery.
Eliezer finally arrives at the house of Bethuel, Rebekah's father. And what happens? They try to kill him! It wasn't a direct attack, mind you. Oh no, they were far more cunning than that. They presented him with poisoned food. Can you imagine? Invited into someone's home only to be offered a deadly meal?
Luckily – or perhaps, divinely – Eliezer refused to eat before he had completed his mission, before he had explained why he was there. He insisted on discharging himself of his errand first. And as he began to recount his story, a rather… convenient… twist of fate occurred. According to the narrative, God orchestrated events so that the poisoned dish ended up in front of Bethuel himself. He ate from it, and, well, that was that. Justice? Divine intervention? You decide.
Eliezer then presented the document from Abraham, the ketubah, essentially the deed, in which Abraham bequeathed all his possessions to Isaac. He made it clear to Abraham's kin how deeply attached his master was to them, despite the years of separation. Yet, at the same time, he asserted Abraham's independence. He could, if necessary, seek a wife for Isaac among the daughters of Ishmael or Lot.
Initially, Abraham's relatives agreed to let Rebekah go with Eliezer. But then, with Bethuel's untimely demise, they hesitated. They felt it wasn't right to give Rebekah away in marriage without consulting her. Plus, they thought she should stay at home for at least the week of mourning, the shivah, for her father.
But Eliezer, seeing the angel that had accompanied him, wouldn't brook any delay. He declared, "The man who came with me and prospered my way, waits for me without." Rebekah, for her part, professed her readiness to leave immediately with Eliezer. Her mother and brother, albeit reluctantly, granted her wish and dismissed her with their blessings.
However, and this is a crucial point, their blessings weren't heartfelt. As the saying goes, and as we find in some rabbinic traditions, the blessing of the impious is often a curse in disguise. And what was the result? Rebekah remained barren for many years. A poignant reminder, perhaps, that words, especially blessings, carry power. They should be given with sincerity, with a full and open heart. Otherwise, the impact might be the opposite of what's intended.