She sighed, wiping her eyes again. “To be honest, I’m too tired at the moment to face what’s ahead. But where would our people be if Abraham and Sarah hadn’t left their comfortable homes at God’s command? Or if we had remained in Egypt instead of leaving with Moses?”
“The Almighty One certainly likes shaking things up and forcing people to move.”
“Yes. And I admit, I’ve argued with Him about it in the past. I was furious when Jude died . . . and I nearly turned away from God in my grief.”
Miriam paused to lay her floury hand on Devorah’s arm. “Oh, Devorah! I’m so sorry. I never imagined—”
“Of course not. I went to great pains to hide how I felt. Then I struggled all over again when Ezra told me I was supposed to marry him, according to the law.”
“I admire you for being willing to do it. I don’t think I could have obeyed.”
“It was very difficult. But we went from being reluctant strangers to finding peace and contentment with each other—and love. I love Ezra, and I never thought it could happen.”
“And it’s obvious to everyone in the family he loves you, too.”
Devorah laughed again. “Our marriage isn’t perfect—he still bristles when I offer my advice on things before he asks. And he especially chafes when I tell him I think he’s wrong. But I wonder where I would be right now if I hadn’t trusted the Almighty One to know what was best for me? If I had continued to fight against His will?”
“Probably not here in Jerusalem, living in a tent by a stream and trying to cook a meal without a decent hearth.”
Devorah laughed. “No, probably not. But I’m glad I’m here, in spite of the hardships. And I know we can trust the Almighty One to bless us and our children and grandchildren because we obeyed Him.”
Ezra made sure the tent housing the treasury was secured with a team of guards in place before retiring to his own tent. The heavy weight of responsibility for transporting the Holy One’s gold and silver was nearly over.
At dawn, after bathing and changing into clean clothes, he and his family walked up to the temple for the morning sacrifice, joined by thousands of other pilgrims from the caravan. He watched in awe, moved beyond words, as the priests sacrificed a lamb for his sins, and for his peoples’ sins. Then one of the priests lifted a coal from the altar of sacrifice and carried it into the sanctuary where he would use it to light the incense. The altar of incense stood before the Almighty One’s throne room, the Holy of Holies, and the prayers of God’s people would ascend to heaven along with the incense. Ezra closed his eyes and lifted his hands in prayer, asking for the strength and courage to lead and teach his people. Devorah was right; he could only undertake this enormous task with God’s help.
Afterward, he returned to his campsite with his family. It was the eve of the Sabbath, and everyone worked to prepare for the day of rest that would begin at sunset. That evening and throughout the next day, the entire caravan feasted and rejoiced, thanking the Almighty One for a safe trip and a new beginning. For Ezra, it was a Sabbath unlike any other he had ever celebrated. He was in the land promised to Abraham, settled by his ancestors, praising the Holy One in His temple. Ezra spent the day resting for God, knowing that in the days ahead, he would need to rest on God for all his needs.
When the Sabbath ended, Ezra assembled all the Levites, including Reuben, and they delivered the huge offering of silver and gold to the priests to be stored in the temple treasury. He felt the weight of responsibility lift from his shoulders at last, as if he had carried each bag of gold himself, every mile of the way. He felt content as he sat outside his tent after dinner that evening, writing in his journal and watching his sons play a game in the dirt with pebble-sized stones. Devorah sat across the small campfire from him, combing their youngest daughter’s hair.
The hand of our God was on us, he wrote, and He protected us from enemies and bandits along the way. So we arrived in Jerusalem, where we rested three days. On the fourth day, in the house of our God, we weighed out the silver and gold and the sacred articles into the hands of Meremoth son of Uriah, the priest. . . . Everything was accounted for by number and weight. . . .
He halted, looking up at Devorah so abruptly she asked, “What’s wrong? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“What if I hadn’t listened to you, Devorah?”
“What do you mean? I hope you’re always listening to me,” she said, smiling. “I really hate being ignored, you know.”
“We weighed the gold and silver into the temple treasury today and every ounce of it made it here safely, thank God. But what if I hadn’t listened to you and shown mercy to Reuben? What if you hadn’t convinced me to apologize and give him another chance? That band of Babylonians could have easily overpowered our guards. Every one of those Levites standing guard that night would probably be dead. And who knows how much gold would have been stolen.” He watched her work for a moment, her beautiful hands braiding their daughter’s dark hair into a long plait. “Did I ever thank you, Devorah? If not—thank you.”
“I simply did my job as your wife—your helper.” She finished her task and pulled their daughter close, kissing the top of her head before releasing her. The tender gesture moved Ezra.
“And you do your job wonderfully well,” he told her. “The law is of utmost importance to me—I’m commissioned to vigorously defend it and teach it and enforce it. But I need you to continually remind me that although God is always just, He administers His justice with mercy and compassion. So, thank you.”
Devorah laughed. “You’re welcome.” She rose and kissed the top of Ezra’s head, too, before ducking into their tent. He closed his eyes, thanking God for the gift of his wife, even though she came to him through a time of great pain. Without her, he would’ve been a weaker leader.
As Judah’s new governor, Ezra knew his first priority was to ask the Almighty One to forgive His people. To wash everyone clean, so to speak, the way they had washed away the dust and sweat of their long, four-month journey. Only then could he set up his new government and rule according to the Torah. Using some of the donated gold and silver, Ezra organized a convocation at the temple for the returned exiles, sacrificing burnt offerings to the Holy One: twelve bulls for all Israel, ninety-six rams, and seventy-seven male lambs; then twelve male goats for a sin offering. “We have so much to be thankful for,” he told his family. He would offer his own thank offering in addition to the others.
On the day of the convocation, Ezra invited Reuben to walk up to the temple mount with him and his family. Ezra had grown very fond of this young man over the past four months, and as he vigorously defended him against the other Levites’ mistrust, he’d begun to think of him as a son. But when they reached the top of the mount, Reuben would go no farther than the outer court. “Why not?’ Ezra asked. “You belong in the court of men with me and the others.”
Reuben shook his head. “I don’t deserve to worship with the other men. I’ve done so many things wrong in my life.”
“Go into the courts without me,” Ezra told his family while he remained behind with Reuben. “When are you going to stop punishing yourself?” he asked. “Don’t you believe God will forgive you if you ask?”
“I don’t even know how to ask.”
“That’s what these sacrifices are for—so we can all plead for forgiveness. Every one of us has sinned and broken God’s law.”
“But none of you has done the terrible things I have.”
Ezra exhaled. “I see your heart, Reuben. I see how very sorry you are—and God sees it, too. Maybe if you made a sin offering of your own and confessed your sins, you would feel forgiven. You can offer a lamb or a female goat—”
“I would love to, Rebbe, but I don’t have money to buy an offering. I gave everything I had to my mother before I left Casiphia.”
“Well, once you begin your duties at the temple, you’ll be getting paid from the peoples’ tithes.”
“My duties? You
can’t possibly want me to serve in the temple after what I did.”
“Of course we do! Reuben, listen to me.” He gripped Reuben’s shoulders, praying he would hear him. “There are four steps that show true repentance, and after you’ve completed them, you are forgiven by God and by all of us. First, you need to acknowledge you’ve done wrong. You’ve done that already. Repeatedly. Second, you must be willing to confess it. You will do that when you bring your sacrifice to the priest, confessing the particular sins the sacrifice will atone for. Third, you must be willing to abandon your sin—leave it behind, walk in a brand-new direction. I think it’s safe to say you’re going to abandon stealing?” Reuben nodded. Ezra released him and patted his back. “Good. Then the fourth step is to make restitution whenever possible.”
“How do I pay back all the people I stole from in Babylon?” he asked, spreading his hands.
“You can’t. But you can live a life of generosity toward people in need from now on. Only you and God ever need to know you are repaying that debt.”
“Should I wait until I’ve earned a wage as a Levite and then make an offering?”
“Yes. And one more thing, Reuben. Once the sacrifice has burned into ashes on the altar, your sin is nothing but ashes, as well. The Holy One forgives us—and we have to believe it in faith. That means leaving our past in the past, not agonizing over it, not bringing it to life in your memory again and again. We must forget it the same way God does—‘As far as the east is from the west.’ That’s how far in the past our sins will be.”
Reuben lowered his head, staring at his feet. “Thank you, Rebbe.”
Ezra rested his hand on Reuben’s back, gently pushing him forward. “Now, come on. My family is waiting for us. And the Almighty One is waiting to forgive our people.”
Chapter
44
JERUSALEM
Reuben was back in school again and eager to learn. He stood in the temple’s outer court after the morning sacrifice with the other thirty-seven Levites from Casiphia and listened as one of the chief Levites explained their duties and responsibilities. “God separated the tribe of Levi from the other eleven tribes at Mount Sinai,” he began, “and charged them with the service of God’s holy tabernacle—and now His temple. You serve in place of the firstborn sons of Israel. As you may know, our firstborn sons belong to God because He spared Israel’s firstborn during the last plague in Egypt when the firstborn sons of Pharaoh and all the other Egyptians died. Now each firstborn son must be redeemed at birth, and you Levites belong to God in their place. In the fourth book of Moses God says, ‘The Levites . . . are the Israelites who are to be wholly given to me. I have taken them as my own in place of the firstborn. . . . I have given the Levites as gifts to Aaron and his sons to do the work at the Tent of Meeting on behalf of the Israelites and to make atonement for them.’”
Reuben followed the chief Levite as he led the group on a tour around the perimeter of the temple mount, pointing out the twenty-four locations where they were commissioned to keep watch: Levites guarded twenty-one of the posts; priests guarded the other three. One of their tasks would be to open the sanctuary doors in the morning and close them again at night. “The fourth book of Moses says we bear the responsibility for offenses against the holy sanctuary,” the chief Levite said. “This is holy ground, God’s dwelling place. Anyone other than priests and Levites who comes near the sanctuary must be put to death.”
They continued walking, then stopped again near the special platform built for the Levite singers and musicians. “Those of you who are musicians will serve here, leading the people in praise to Almighty God. Praise is an important component of worship, and we’re privileged to lead it.”
They moved on until the chief Levite halted again in front of the temple treasury. “You may know that when Moses divided the Promised Land among the sons of Israel, the tribe of Levi wasn’t given any land or inheritance. You’ll be paid from the tithes and offerings the people give to God. Their prosperity is your prosperity, their suffering is yours also.”
It occurred to Reuben the gold he would have stolen from the caravan was for the operation of the temple. He would now be paid with the treasure he had rescued and guarded for the past four months.
“The cities given to the Levites are spread throughout the land,” the man continued, “including the cities of refuge, where some of you will serve as judges. Your tribe is scattered in the midst of all the other tribes so you can set an example as God’s servants, elevating yourselves spiritually in order to lead the people to God. Our territory is much smaller than the original Promised Land divided among the sons of Israel. But the principle of living and serving among the people remains the same. Rebbe Ezra and his fellow scholars will teach you the finer points of the law in the coming months so you can help teach others.”
As Reuben listened, the role of a Levite seemed truly daunting, requiring much more of him than standing guard. Even so, he was grateful to be here, grateful for the chance to begin his life again. He only wished his father could have served alongside him.
“You will also be called upon to assist the priests with the sacrifices, especially during the annual feast days when thousands of people make pilgrimages to Jerusalem. You’ll be divided into smaller groups for this part of your training and learn your duties from the priests themselves.”
Later that day, the chief Levite sent Reuben and his new Levite friend, Eli, to the House of the Weavers just below the temple mount to be fitted for their new white robes. Every step of the process took place in this enclosure, from spinning, bleaching, and dying the wool and flax, to weaving the cloth and tailoring the garments. A dozen looms of various sizes were set up in the courtyard, and the weavers worked beneath the shade of a rush roof. Most of them wove white linen cloth for the robes and other garments, but a few were making the brightly dyed sashes of purple, crimson, and blue wool the priests and Levites wore.
Reuben paused to watch, amazed by how quickly their shuttles flew. And sitting among the women like a flower among weeds was a beautiful young woman with russet-colored hair. She was much younger than the other weavers, yet obviously just as skilled. Her graceful fingers moved in perfect rhythm as she worked, and the pure white cloth grew inch by inch on the loom.
His friend Eli nudged him in the ribs, interrupting his thoughts. “Are you interested in learning to weave, Reuben? Or does that pretty girl over there interest you?”
“I was noticing how skillful she is. I wonder if I’ll ever learn to do my work that effortlessly.”
“Are you sure you didn’t also notice how pretty she is?”
Reuben gave an embarrassed grin. “Yes. I did notice that, too.”
“Why don’t you talk to her?” Eli said, nudging him again. “She isn’t married, you know.”
“How do you know that? Do you know her? What’s her name?”
Eli laughed. “I never saw her before. But I know she’s single because she isn’t wearing a head covering like married women do.”
“Oh. Of course.” That’s why Reuben had noticed her auburn hair—the other women’s heads were all covered.
“Who’s next?” the tailor called from the doorway.
Reuben went inside the building and removed his sandals to be measured. The chief Levite had explained how each robe was woven in one piece, including the hem, and would be tailored to each man’s height. He had also explained how they would perform their duties without shoes, showing reverence for the temple’s holy ground.
“You’re a tall fellow!” the tailor said. “And muscular, too. How did you get to be so strong?”
“I worked as a blacksmith in Babylon.” As he spoke the words, Reuben was surprised to discover he could recall his years with his father and be reminded of what he’d lost without anger or bitterness. His father would’ve rather Reuben inherit this calling as a Levite than to inherit his blacksmith shop. And if his uncle hadn’t sold the shop, Reuben never would’ve left Casiph
ia and come to Jerusalem.
“Are you planning to work as a blacksmith here, too?” the man asked as he stretched his measuring cord from Reuben’s head to his feet.
“No, I’m needed at the temple. They say there’s a shortage of Levites.”
“Your name?”
“Reuben ben David.”
“All done. You may go. Send in whoever is next.”
Reuben was nearly to the door when he turned and asked, “When should I come back for my robe?” He was thinking of the girl again and hoping he could gather his courage by then and talk to her the next time he returned.
“You don’t have to come back,” the tailor said. “We’ll deliver your new robe and other garments to the chamber of the wardrobe when they’re finished.”
“Oh . . . well, thank you.”
Back in the courtyard, Reuben was again drawn to the girl, watching her while he waited for his friend to be measured. She was slender and petite, her skin fairer in color than the other Jewish women around her. She looked up and noticed him, and he saw her cheeks flush before she quickly looked away.
The woman working alongside the girl frowned as she called to him. “Do you need something, young man?”
“No. I’m just waiting for my friend. I’ve never seen cloth being woven before.” He wished the girl would’ve spoken instead of the woman. He would’ve liked to hear what her voice sounded like. More Levites arrived to be measured, and the courtyard became crowded. Reuben’s friend emerged from the building and beckoned to him.
“You ready to go?”
No. He would’ve liked to stay longer. He could have watched the beautiful young weaver all day. He chided himself for his lack of courage as he walked back to the temple mount. He should have spoken to her, learned her name. How would he ever find her again?
Later that day, Reuben received his first wages as a Levite. He made his way to Rebbe Ezra’s tent that evening after the meal and found him sitting outside with his wife and children, writing in his journal. The summer night was warm, and the rebbe invited him to sit with them.