“Wait! Don’t pull on her. I’ll do it.” He shouted orders to the rest of his men and the caravan slowly turned around in the street, the donkeys braying loudly. The commotion drew people out of their homes, and Nehemiah saw men and women peering from their windows and rooftops to see what was going on.
“The Holy One has commanded us to remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy,” Nehemiah said, shouting so all the people could hear him. “You have six days to do all your work, but the seventh is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you nor your servants nor your animals, nor the strangers within your gates. . . . That includes you and your caravan,” he told the lead driver. “If you ever do this again I will lay hands on you.”
Nehemiah’s fury smoldered as he continued down the hill to Ephraim’s house. “I’ve always stayed home on the Sabbath, so I didn’t know this was going on,” he said. “But trust me, it isn’t going to happen in the future.”
“Don’t be surprised if those merchants set up their market outside the gates,” Ephraim told him. “Or if our fellow Jews go out there to buy from them.”
“Even on the Sabbath?”
Ephraim nodded. “This has gone on since Ezra retired as governor, but no one has tried to stop them before. Everyone reasoned that the merchants were foreigners who didn’t have to keep the Law.”
“If they’re in my province, they have to obey our laws.”
Nehemiah laid aside his anger for the sake of his family and enjoyed the day of rest. But as soon as the sun set, he finished making plans to hold a council meeting with all of his nobles and officials and district leaders. Part of the reason was to claim his authority before the conspirators gathered enough support to call their own meeting and challenge him. But the main purpose was to explain his future plans now that the wall was finished.
As he stood on the dais in his council chamber the next day, Nehemiah could guess by the expressions on the men’s faces—either anger or curiosity—which ones were on his side and which ones supported the conspiracy. Maybe they would all desert him by the time the meeting ended.
He began without preamble. “Now that the wall is done and all the gates have been set in place, I’m putting my brother Hananiah ben Hacaliah in charge of supervising Jerusalem’s defenses. He knows their strengths and weaknesses better than anyone. The temple citadel will be under the command of Hananiah. He’s a man of integrity who fears God more than most men do.” Nehemiah also knew that he wouldn’t be intimidated by the noblemen behind the conspiracy.
“From now on,” he continued, “the gates of Jerusalem will remain closed until the sun is hot, rather than opening at dawn. This delay will prevent any surprise attacks by our enemies before our citizens are fully awake. In the evening, the gatekeepers on duty will shut and bar the doors for the night before it gets dark. Hanani will also appoint residents of Jerusalem as guards, some at their posts and some near their own homes.”
“I thought the threat of an enemy attack was no longer an issue now that the wall is finished,” Meshullam said. Nehemiah knew him to be one of the traitors.
“The worst possible time to lower our guard is when we believe the crisis has passed,” he said, remembering the Thirteenth of Adar. He paused, wondering if he should say more about having enemies in their midst, then decided to continue. “My next announcement concerns the Sabbath. Yesterday I encountered some merchants from Tyre who were bringing fish and other merchandise into Jerusalem to sell to the people of Judah on the day of rest. These merchants assured me that this is a common practice, allowed by the nobles of Judah before I arrived.”
He paused again, waiting for their response. When no one spoke he said, “I rebuked them and sent them outside the city to wait. But now I’m rebuking you. What is this wicked thing you’re doing—desecrating the Sabbath day? Didn’t your forefathers do the same thing so that our God brought all this calamity upon us and upon this city? Now you’re stirring up more wrath against Israel by desecrating the Sabbath. Is it any wonder that our province has been without rain for two years?”
He stepped down from the dais as his anger stirred him into action, walking between the rows of men and looking many of them in the eye. Some wouldn’t meet his gaze. “These foreign merchants who don’t know our God or His law assured me that Jews all over the province tread their winepresses and do other work on the Sabbath. These are Jews, people in your districts who are doing this, people who are supposed to know our God. Do you understand what the word desecrate means? It means turning what is sacred into common use and profaning it. Making the seventh day just like any other day by doing work or buying and selling instead of keeping the day holy and set apart as God commanded.
“Each of you is responsible for setting an example in your district. Our role as leaders is a sacred trust from God, not something we deserve or covet or strive for. We must govern with justice and integrity as God’s representatives and follow His law, not our own. Here in Jerusalem, when evening shadows fall on the city gates before the Sabbath, the doors will be shut, and they won’t reopen until the day ends. A temple priest will sound three blasts on his trumpet to announce the precise moment of sunset when the people must cease their labor. Three more blasts will follow to mark the division between the common day and the sacred one. The trumpet will be sounded again when the Sabbath day comes to an end. I’ve commanded the Levites to purify themselves and guard all the gates from now on to help keep the Sabbath holy.”
If some of these leaders were disgruntled, their faces didn’t reveal it. No one spoke or argued with him. All of the men on Malkijah’s list were in this room, and Nehemiah knew they would report everything he said to Tobiah at the first opportunity. Let them. With God on Nehemiah’s side, Tobiah would be no match for him. He no longer feared a coup by disgruntled members of Judah’s nobility. His life was held firmly in His hands.
Nehemiah had one more announcement to make, but the room felt too dark and confining to him. “Follow me,” he said as he strode toward the door. “There’s something I want to show you.” Outside, the rain continued to fall intermittently, but Nehemiah didn’t care if he got wet. He led the men down the hill along the city’s eastern wall, halting at the southern tip near the Fountain Gate. The misty rain beaded on the men’s clothing and hair like tiny jewels. For their nation, the rain was every bit as precious as jewels.
“After surveying this city countless times while constructing the wall, I believe I know every square inch of it,” Nehemiah said. “And it has bothered me for some time that although the city is large and spacious, comparatively few people live in it. Take this entire neighborhood, for instance. None of these houses have been rebuilt.”
“What can we do about it?” Rephaiah said, lifting his palms. “Most of the men who returned with Zerubbabel or with Rebbe Ezra chose to return to their ancestral estates.”
“I understand. But even with new walls and gates, this city and the Almighty One’s temple will be difficult to defend if we don’t have enough men living here. So here’s my plan. More than thirteen years have passed since Rebbe Ezra arrived, and nearly one hundred years since the first families returned with Zerubbabel. During that time, no one has recorded our people’s births and deaths. God has put it in my heart to assemble the nobles, officials, and common people and register all of them by families.”
“You’re taking a census?”
“Yes.” It had occurred to Nehemiah that if the Almighty One did make him king, he would need to know how many fighting men he could recruit. “Yes, and once we have an accurate figure of Judah’s population, I plan to cast lots and bring one out of every ten men here to live in Jerusalem.”
Nehemiah could tell that his announcement surprised every man on his council. They began talking and arguing amongst themselves, and as he listened, Nehemiah was encouraged to see that more of them seemed in favor of the idea than opposed to it. He wiped the rain from his face and raised his voice to be
heard above the noise. “I’m guessing that some men may decide to move here voluntarily, especially second- or third-born sons who won’t inherit their fathers’ ancestral land. And especially when they learn that I’ll be rebuilding houses for them to live in at my own expense.” The discussion rose in volume following his remarks. Nehemiah let it continue for a few minutes, then called for silence.
“I expect each of you to return to your own districts and begin the census registration as soon as possible. You’re also responsible for holding the lottery to select one out of every ten men in your district to move here. If you have any questions, you’re welcome to bring them to me in my audience hall. That’s all, gentlemen. You are dismissed.”
He strode up the hill without waiting to hear their comments or arguments. The rain was coming down harder now and he silently thanked God for it. Remember me for this also, O my God, and show mercy to me according to your great love.
Chapter
54
BETH HAKKEREM
Nava pulled her shawl over her head to shield it from the gently falling rain as she walked out of the gate of her master’s estate, alone. Her only thought was to go home. Months had passed since she’d made this journey in the opposite direction, following Aaron’s donkey, but her heart remembered the way. When she reached the small rise on the edge of Abba’s property, she spotted her father out in his barley field, pushing his plow through the rain-softened earth. Her brothers worked behind him breaking up clumps of dirt and sifting out stones. Nava broke into a run.
“Abba!” she shouted. “Abba, Mama, I’m home!” Her father looked up and abandoned his plow in the middle of a furrow to hurry across the field to her. Mama must have heard her shouts, too, because she ran from the house to sweep Nava into her arms.
“Oh, my daughter! My sweet Nava! Are you home for good?”
“No, only for the day, Mama. . . . A friend of mine died this morning. The chief shepherd, Shimon.” She cleared the lump of grief from her throat. “I . . . I needed to get away for a while.”
Abba drew her into his arms next. “You walked here all alone?”
“Yes . . . I had to. I missed you so much!” She didn’t tell them that she had simply left the estate without permission, without telling Penina or anyone else where she was going. She had been by Shimon’s side when he had drawn his last, painful breath, and she knew she couldn’t bear to watch them put his cold, pale body into the ground. Needing the balm of loving arms around her, she had walked out through the gate of the estate to come home.
“How long can you stay?” Mama asked.
“I need to be back before dark to take care of the goats.” She didn’t want to imagine returning to see Shimon’s empty bed or his empty milking stool beside her own.
“Want me to run next door and tell Dan you’re home?” her brother offered.
“Would you? I’ve missed him, too.”
“Let’s go inside out of the rain so we can visit,” Mama said. They ducked through the door into the low-ceilinged room, and Mama stoked the hearth fire to help everyone dry off.
“The rain is wonderful, isn’t it?” Nava asked as she wiped her face with the corner of her shawl.
“It’s a blessing from God,” Abba agreed.
“How are they treating you? Are you well? Tell us everything,” Mama said.
“My master is good to me. I have new sandals, see? And they just gave me this new tunic to wear.” She didn’t mention that it replaced the one Aaron had torn. Her family leaned closer, listening eagerly as Nava described Malkijah’s estate and the work she did for him each day. She didn’t tell them what Master Aaron had tried to do or describe the details of how Shimon had died. She had promised Shimon she would forgive her masters and put away her bitterness, and the only way to do that was to dwell on the good things about living at the estate—the plentiful food, the friends she had made—and refuse to think about the bad.
“Master Malkijah just got married in Jerusalem, so I’ll have a new mistress when he returns,” Nava continued. “I’ve already met her, and she’s very kind.” Aaron would return from Jerusalem with them, but Shimon had assured Nava that she could trust the Almighty One to protect her.
“I’ve regretted sending you away every single day since you left,” Abba said. “I even went with Dan’s father and some of the others to talk to Malkijah, asking him to consider cancelling our debts like so many other nobles have done, but he refused.”
“No, please don’t worry about me, Abba. It’s truly all right. And now with this rain, I’m sure your land will prosper again. I’m praying for the Almighty One to bless your crops this year.”
She heard running footsteps outside. Dan rushed through the door, soaking wet and smiling as if he might burst from joy. Nava wanted to hold him in her arms so badly. “It’s wonderful to see you, Nava. I think about you every day.”
“I know. I think of you, too.” Her brother must have told Dan that she was home for only one day, because he didn’t ask how long she could stay or if she’d been set free.
Nava soaked in all the sights of home and her family’s beloved faces as they talked, as thirsty for them as the ground was for rain. She was relieved to see that her family wasn’t starving. Mama had grain to make bread, jars of oil, and lentils and chickpeas in the storeroom. Malkijah was feeding them until the famine ended as he’d promised, in return for Nava’s service. She was thankful for that.
They ate a simple noon meal together as rain pattered on the roof, and it tasted better than any feast. Late that afternoon when it was time to return to the estate, Dan and one of her brothers walked there with her. Her brother lagged a few steps behind to give them privacy as they talked. “You don’t have to wait for me,” she told Dan. “Six years is a long time, and I want you to be happy.”
“It’s less than six years now. You’ve been there more than four months already.”
Was that all? Nava didn’t say so, but it felt like a lifetime to her. “Let’s hope the time passes quickly.”
He took her hand in his. “Remember the story of Jacob’s love for Rachel?” he asked. “The Torah says he agreed to serve Laban for seven years so he could marry her, but to him they seemed like only a few days because of his love for her. That’s what it will be like for me.”
“I love you so much,” she told him. But in her heart, Nava doubted that she and Dan would ever marry. Too many unforeseen things could happen in the next few years, and people’s lives seldom worked out the way they expected them to. Shimon’s life hadn’t. Abba’s hadn’t. Hers certainly hadn’t. Nava was afraid to hope that she and Dan would have a happy ending to their story. She wanted to have faith like Shimon. The Almighty One was her master from now on, not Malkijah, and she would yield to His will, whether that meant marrying Dan or not.
“I’d better say good-bye to you now,” she said when they reached the edge of her master’s property. Dan hugged her tightly. He didn’t seem to want to let go, and neither did she. “It’s been wonderful to see you, Dan.”
“Good-bye, Nava . . . but only for now.”
She released him from her arms and hurried up the hill and through the gate and into the compound so he wouldn’t see her tears. She went straight to the goat pen to begin milking, filling the bin with a little grain for the animals to eat while she worked. She was leading the first goat to the stool when Penina came out to the pen.
“Where have you been? I’ve been searching all over for you.”
“I’m sorry.” Nava sat down, leaning her forehead against the goat’s side as she worked. “I couldn’t watch them bury Shimon. I . . . I had to get away.” She wondered if she would be in trouble, if Penina would shout at her or punish her. But when Penina replied, her voice was gentle.
“Master Malkijah is coming home with his new wife tomorrow. When you finish milking, come to the kitchen. We have work to do to get ready.”
Chapter
55
BETH HAKKEREM br />
When Chana arrived at Malkijah’s estate, the atmosphere seemed different to her, the servants unusually quiet and subdued. The housekeeper came out with two maids to help with their bags, and tears filled the housekeeper’s eyes when Chana asked about Shimon. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but he died from his injuries yesterday.”
Malkijah reacted before Chana did. “What? Shimon is dead?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Where did you bury him? Show me.” He left all of their things for the servants to unload, refusing the water and refreshments Penina had brought, and followed one of his servants out through the gate. Chana hurried along behind him but not before noticing that Aaron had disappeared.
The new grave was on a quiet hillside beneath an oak tree, where Shimon’s sheep and goats sometimes grazed. Chana stood beside her husband as he stared down at the scarred earth, shaking his head as if unable to believe his friend was truly gone. “I’ve known Shimon all my life,” Malkijah said, his voice rough with emotion. “He used to take me up into the pasturelands with him when I was a boy. Those times together are some of my happiest memories.”
“Shimon told me those were his fondest memories, too.”
Malkijah looked at her in surprise. “He did?”
“Yes, when I sat with him after he was injured.”
“I loved sitting around the campfire with him at night and listening to his stories. He told me that David learned how to be Israel’s king and to lead God’s people by first being a shepherd. He said that tending my father’s sheep would help me learn to be a good leader, too. . . . I can’t imagine this estate without Shimon.”
Chana reached for his hand. She would tell him the truth about his father someday, but this wasn’t the right time.
Malkijah exhaled. “I guess I didn’t realize that he was dying the last time we spoke.”
“He was very badly injured on the night of the dinner. Aaron struck him very hard. I saw the bruises on Shimon’s stomach from being punched.”