“I finished my first week of training as a Levite, Rebbe. They paid me today.”
“Wonderful! How are you enjoying your work?”
“I won’t officially start working until my robe is finished. I went to be measured for it today. But I think I’m going to enjoy it. Being a guard suits me.” His years of moving in the shadows, staying alert to every little sound and movement, had prepared him well for the vigilance required as a guard, especially when he was on night duty.
“I must say you look very happy, Reuben. There’s no greater joy in life than to find and fulfill God’s purpose for you.”
“Yes, Rebbe . . . I came to talk to you because I’m going to buy a lamb for a sin offering tomorrow with my pay. I hope it will help me feel like my past is truly gone.”
“I hope so, too. Remember, we talked about how your offering isn’t accepted unless accompanied by true repentance. That means living in a way that shows gratitude. But you also need to understand you aren’t buying God’s forgiveness. You can’t buy or earn forgiveness with any amount of money or with thousands of sacrifices. It’s a gift, Reuben.”
He nodded. But he had a lot more to learn about the Almighty One and His ways. “What should I expect tomorrow, Rebbe?”
“The sacrifice will be very bloody, as you already know. Think of it as a taste of your own death as you watch. The animal dies, taking our place and showing us what we would deserve if God were to judge us. The sacrifice represents the death of our physical side and allows our spiritual nature to draw closer to God. The Hebrew word for sacrifice is korban, and it comes from the root word meaning ‘to come near’ or ‘to approach.’ Our ability to draw close to God is what sets us apart from the animal kingdom. We raise ourselves above their level and dedicate ourselves to Him.”
Reuben would be drawing near to the Holy One tomorrow. He couldn’t imagine it.
“You’ve seen dozens of sacrifices by now,” the rebbe continued. “You probably know that for each of the daily offerings we give portions of flour, oil, salt, and frankincense. All four parts of creation come together in worship: the priest represents humanity; the bull or the lamb represents the animal kingdom; the flour and oil come from the plant kingdom; the salt is from the inanimate world. In God’s temple, all creation unites in harmony and worship.”
At dawn the next morning, Reuben’s hand trembled as he placed it on the lamb’s head and confessed his sins. He watched the animal die in his place. Reuben couldn’t pay back all the people he’d stolen from, but he promised God he would live generously, as the rebbe had advised him to do. As the aroma of his offering rose to heaven, Reuben was ready to start a new life, as pure and spotless as the new robe he would soon wear as he served God.
Chapter
45
JERUSALEM
Ezra knew he shouldn’t feel intimidated as he prepared to face Jerusalem’s elders and chief priests—after all, he’d stood before the king of the entire Persian Empire. Yet as he entered the long, narrow throne room and walked between the rows of pillars supporting the high roof, he was under no illusion the elders gathered here would embrace him with open arms. They had welcomed him readily enough on the first day, but this would be his first official meeting with them since arriving in Jerusalem as their new governor.
He had made it his business to learn something about the elders and chief priests he would be working with, and he’d learned that Eliezer, the elderly chief priest who brought the meeting to order, was the son of Jeshua, the high priest who had returned to Jerusalem eighty years ago to rebuild the temple. The leaders sat in a semicircle while Ezra stood before them. The vacant throne of judgment where King David’s heir once held court was behind him, but Ezra would never attempt to occupy such an honored seat.
“I don’t mean to seem impertinent,” Eliezer began, “but who are you to come to Jerusalem and tell us what to do?”
Ezra remained calm. “Are you asking for my credentials, my ancestry, or my authorization?” When no one replied he said, “I served with the men of the Great Assembly in Babylon as their youngest member. As you may know, that esteemed body of men spent years studying the Torah and issuing rulings on how to apply it to our everyday lives. I am a descendant of Aaron from the tribe of Levi. My ancestors served as high priests in Solomon’s temple from the time it was built until it was destroyed. Would you like their names?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Ezra usually avoided confrontations like this, preferring the solitude of his studies. But being forced to explain himself angered him and fueled his courage. This time, no matter how intimidated he felt, he wouldn’t try to back away from the task of leadership God had given him like he had before the Thirteenth of Adar. “You’ve all seen a copy of King Artaxerxes’ decree,” he continued, “authorizing me to govern. I didn’t seek this position. When I petitioned the Persian king to allow our people to return home, I hoped to serve as a priest like my forefathers. Nevertheless, the king commissioned me to lead, and he appointed me governor. I intend to lead to the very best of my ability—God helping me.”
Eliezer’s smile looked cold and insincere. “The regional governor of Trans-Euphrates won’t be happy to hear of your appointment. We’ve dealt with him and his royal satraps in the past, and they’ll view this as a loss of their authority and power over the territory of Judah.”
“That’s exactly what it is. And I didn’t expect them to be happy about giving up their sovereignty. Nor will they be pleased when they learn the king’s decree requires the treasurers of Trans-Euphrates to supply whatever finances I ask for. I’ll be delivering the king’s orders to the royal satraps and governors in the coming weeks and making my requests. If any of you wish to join my delegation, you’re welcome to do so.” Ezra wasn’t surprised when no one accepted his offer. They seemed prepared to throw him to the Gentile rulers all by himself.
“It seems to us,” one of the elders said, “that if authority is granted to govern the province of Judah, it should be Prince Eliakim, Prince Zerubbabel’s grandson and heir. Shouldn’t he represent us and govern us instead of you?”
Ezra knew exactly which man in the gathering was Prince Eliakim, heir to the throne of King David. But the fact that he hadn’t chosen to sit on the throne or to question Ezra himself indicated the elders and chief priests were the real power behind the puppet prince, a power they seemed reluctant to relinquish. Ezra gave a slight bow in deference to Prince Eliakim before replying. “I’ve looked into this matter, and it’s my understanding that the governor of Trans-Euphrates has ruled over Judah ever since Prince Zerubbabel died. The Persians no longer recognize the right of his heir or our royal family to rule in his place—am I correct?” The prince nodded, conceding it was true. “I specifically asked King Artaxerxes to allow Judah’s kings to govern instead of me, but he refused. So here we are. This is the way it will be for now.”
“Are you moving into the governor’s residence?” the prince asked. “And living here?”
The question surprised Ezra. “No, I intend to build a house for my family just like all the other men who’ve returned with me.”
“That would be a mistake, Rebbe Ezra,” the chief elder said. “If you want to legitimize your claim as ruler—”
“This decree I’m carrying legitimizes my authority to rule,” Ezra said, waving his copy of the decree.
“Yes. You’ve made that clear,” the elder said. “But in the eyes of Judah’s neighbors and the people of this land, you will need to make a conscious display of that authority by living here. This hall will serve as a place to conduct court business and meetings with other officials. The banquet hall and your staff of servants will provide a place to offer hospitality on behalf of our nation. Of course, if your wife is willing to cook for a delegation of royal satraps all by herself, we won’t stand in her way.”
Ezra tugged on his beard. He had always resisted the trappings of power and privilege when he’d served as the leader
of the Jewish community in Babylon. But in this instance, he knew he would have to concede. “Very well. I’ll move my family into this residence if that’s what you advise. But I want to make it clear I will not be asking the Persians for political nationhood. For now, Judah continues to be a province in the Persian Empire. I’m here to forge a spiritual nation. To govern this province by the laws given in the Torah.”
Ezra hoped the questioning would end soon so he could get on with his business. He hated the political maneuvering of secular leadership and had little patience for it. But these men would serve in his administration in the coming days, and he needed them as allies, not enemies. What’s more, the Holy One was “compassionate and gracious, slow to anger,” and Ezra’s public life, as well as his personal life, needed to measure up to that ideal. But Eliezer wasn’t finished with his questions.
“I see the Persian king’s decree commands you to ‘instruct those who don’t know the law.’ How do you intend to do that?”
“By doing what I know how to do best—teaching. I’m hoping there are priests and Levites among us who are well-versed in the law and who’ll be able to assist me in this. If not, I will have to instruct the teachers first. I also intend to appoint judges—men who are masters of the law and can sit alone in judgment—and laymen magistrates who can preside over civil cases in tribunals.”
“How far do you intend to exercise your authority outside of Jerusalem?” someone asked. Ezra recognized the man as a self-proclaimed tribal chieftain from Keilah, who currently governed a group of villages in that region. He likely saw Ezra as a threat.
“I intend to travel to every town and village within the borders of the province of Judah. I understand they extend from Jericho and the Jordan River in the east, to Azekah in the west, to Bethel in the north, and to Keilah and Kiriath-arba in the south. The teachers and magistrates I appoint will cover the same territory. Anyone wishing to continue as an elder or a leader—and of course as a priest—will need to know the Torah thoroughly and follow it to the letter.”
The more Ezra spoke, the more disturbed Eliezer seemed to become. The elderly priest had all he could do to remain seated, and when he finally spoke, his voice rose to nearly a shout. “Come now, Rebbe Ezra! Let’s be practical. Do you honestly expect all the people in Judah to obey you?”
“No, I expect them to obey the Almighty One. I’m hoping they’ll do so willingly, especially when they see the blessings He promised for those who keep His covenant.”
“But there are Gentiles living among us—Samaritans and mixed-race peoples and Edomite clans who’ve migrated north to settle in Judean territory over the years. How are you going to make them obey? Are you prepared to enforce the part of the king’s decree that says whoever doesn’t obey will be punished by death, banishment, confiscation of property, or imprisonment?”
“The people of Judah and the other provinces have been forced to comply with Persian law for some time now. That hasn’t changed—and neither has the punishment they inflict on lawbreakers. As God’s covenant people, we Jews have always been responsible for living according to His law—that hasn’t changed since the day Moses received it on Mount Sinai. Nor have the punishments spelled out in the Torah changed.
“As for the Gentiles . . .” He paused, remembering the pagans who had slaughtered his brother. “The Holy One promised the Gentiles would be blessed through us. Perhaps this decree is a fulfillment of that promise, because if the Gentiles obey God, He promises to bless even them.” Although Ezra admitted only to himself his doubt that the pagan Gentiles would ever turn to God. In fact, his continuing hatred and distrust made him hope every last Gentile would retreat from his province when they learned about the high standards they would have to live up to under the law.
Ezra looked around, trying to gauge the men’s reactions. The chief priest was clearly disturbed about something, but he seemed to have run out of questions for now. Some of the men actually looked pleased with what Ezra had told them so far. “If you have no further questions, gentlemen, I have one of my own. Where are we in the schedule of tithing and the Sabbath years?”
“What do you mean?” Eliezer asked. “The people have been bringing a tithe of their grain, new wine, and oil, as well as the firstborn of their herds and flocks to the temple every year since we rebuilt it.”
“Good. But every third year, the tithes are to be stored in the towns and villages so they can be distributed to the Levites and to the poor, the fatherless, and widows. And every seventh year the land is to be given a rest. We are forbidden to sow or prune or reap our land during the Sabbath year. And after seven Sabbaths, the Lord declares a Year of Jubilee.”
“Nothing like that was established when our ancestors returned and rebuilt the temple,” Eliezer said.
“Then it needs to be. One of the indictments against our ancestors leading to our exile was their failure to give the land a rest. God allowed us to be carried into captivity so the land would finally have its Sabbaths. We need to calculate the years back to the last known Year of Jubilee and figure out where we are in the cycle. And proper tithing must begin at once.”
“The people are poor, Rebbe Ezra. The additional burden of not planting and harvesting every seven years will be crippling. You can’t expect to enforce this—”
“Perhaps they’re poor because they haven’t been giving the Almighty One His tithe. You know the covenant curses for disobedience: ‘Your basket and your kneading trough will be cursed. The fruit of your womb will be cursed and the crops of your land, and the calves of your herds and the lambs of your flocks.’ But prosperity and blessing are promised to those who obey God. If we carefully follow all His commands, ‘the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations on earth. All these blessings will come upon you and accompany you if you obey the Lord your God.’”
Some of the men shook their heads. Most looked skeptical. Why couldn’t they understand this? “Do you believe God sovereignly controls nature?” Ezra asked. “And it is God who makes our crops flourish and brings famine?”
“Yes, of course, but—”
“Then why can’t you trust God and follow His command to give the land a Sabbath rest?” No one replied. But if these men, Judah’s elders and chief priests, didn’t understand this basic principle, Ezra knew he was going to have a lot of work ahead of him to teach everyone else.
“Our service and our worship of the Holy One doesn’t just take place in the temple, gentlemen. God wants us to give Him sovereignty over every area of our lives. We need to obey every word of God—not just because we want His blessings or we fear His judgment, but because His instructions are the very best way to live in this precarious, turbulent world. We are to be His example to the nations. Do we all understand that?” He waited, but no one spoke. “Good. Then let’s get to work on this calendar issue right away in obedience to the Almighty One.”
Chapter
46
JERUSALEM
Ever since Reuben saw the pretty girl who worked in the House of the Weavers, he had watched for her among the worshippers who came to the temple every day. His assignment was to guard one of the Huldah gates near the southern entrance to the temple mount, and although he knew it might be nearly impossible to spot one woman among a crowd of hundreds, he refused to give up. The morning sacrifice was about to begin and most of the worshippers had already made their way into the inner courts, leaving the outer courtyard nearly empty, but Reuben scanned it just the same—and caught a glimpse of a woman with auburn hair standing near the barrier separating the outer courtyard from the Court of Women.
Was it really her? Reuben couldn’t quite tell. He left his post for a moment, circling around to try to see her face. Yes! It really was her, standing all alone. Why didn’t she join the other women inside the Court of Women? Was she waiting for someone?
Reuben knew he was supposed to be working, staying alert and on guard watching over the temple precincts, but he couldn’t stop sta
ring at her. The sacrifice had begun, and he could smell roasting meat from where he stood and hear the songs of the temple musicians carried to him on the breeze. The deep voices of the Levite choir sent chills through him as they sang: “Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord has been good to you.” Yes, the Lord had been good to him, giving him this new life in a new land. But he was lonely. If only he could find someone to love, someone as pretty as that girl.
Reuben was still keeping one eye on her when the sacrifice ended. As the auburn-haired girl started to leave, she turned around so quickly she tripped and fell to her hands and knees on the pavement. Without thinking, Reuben left his post and rushed to help her.
“Miss! Are you all right?”
“I think so . . .” He caught a glimpse of one of her legs before she pulled down the hem of her robe to cover it and noticed it looked thin and withered. Reuben quickly bent and helped her to her feet. She was so small and slender, she seemed to weigh nothing at all. The top of her head barely reached to his chin. For the first time, he noticed the crutch she had dropped, and he picked it up and handed it to her.
“Are you all right?” he asked again.
“Just a few scratches,” she said, brushing dirt off her hands. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Her voice was as light and delicate as she was. “I’m usually not this clumsy,” she said, looking embarrassed. “I must have tripped over these uneven stones. Thank you for helping me.” She started to limp away, but Reuben couldn’t let that happen. He was supposed to be working, especially now that the sacrifice was over and large crowds of people spilled out from all of the courtyards, but Reuben didn’t care if he got into trouble. He had to find out more about her. He couldn’t let her disappear again.
“Please, let me help you with the stairs, miss. There are so many to go down.”