Keepers of the Covenant
“Of course. We’ll make a place for you as a teacher right away. . . . Thank you.” Ezra hurried outside to the courtyard for air and saw Reuben waiting in the corridor with his wife, a slender, pretty young woman. Reuben hovered over her protectively. “She has a name,” Devorah had chided him—“Amina.” Ezra’s stomach ached with grief at the thought of witnessing his young friend’s suffering.
Knowing he couldn’t be gone long, Ezra quickly climbed the stairs to the rooftop of his residence to gaze up toward the temple mount. Only the rooftop of the sanctuary housing God’s mercy seat was visible. The column of smoke rising from the altar blended with the gray, scudding clouds. Ezra closed his eyes and prayed. God, give me wisdom. . . . If there is a way to offer your grace—if that’s what you want me to do—please show me.
The jury was already seated when Ezra returned, and the foreman called for the next case. Reuben’s wife entered first, limping with a crutch and accompanied by five men who all swore an oath to tell the truth. Ezra recognized two of the men as priests, sons of Zechariah the prophet. One of the other three men introduced himself first.
“My name is Jacob ben Aaron, and these are my two brothers. We’re members of Amina’s family—perhaps not by blood but by bonds of love. We traveled here from Bethlehem to stand with her and give testimony on her behalf, so she wouldn’t have to face this jury alone.” He paused to offer Amina a reassuring smile, but she stood with her head bowed, staring at the floor as if too ashamed to face the jury.
“Yes, Amina is a Gentile by birth,” Jacob continued. “An Edomite who was orphaned at the age of eight after the battles on the Thirteenth of Adar. Our mother, Hodaya, adopted her. I’ll admit my brothers and I weren’t too happy about my mother’s decision at first. Emotions were running very high after the events of that day, and the hatred we felt toward the enemies who had tried to annihilate us was still very strong. I was convinced my mother was making a mistake by bringing Amina and her sister into our home. But my mother’s great faith in God soon became Amina’s faith. She loves the Holy One as much as any Jewish woman I know. We’ve witnessed her devotion to Him over the years. Amina has followed the Torah all of her life, and we testify under oath that her conversion to our faith is genuine and sincere.” Again, he paused as if to reassure Amina, but she still hadn’t lifted her head.
“Amina had a chance to return to her people and live with her Edomite uncle a number of years ago,” Aaron continued. “And although her sister decided to return, Amina chose to stay with us. Because of her confession of faith in the God of Abraham, we told her she was now considered one of us. She bathed in the mikveh, put her trust in God, and renounced the gods of her people long before she met her husband, Reuben.”
“Thank you,” the foreman said when he finished. The two priests stepped forward to stand alongside Amina next. From where he sat, Ezra could see Amina’s hand trembling as she wiped tears from her face.
“My name is Johanan ben Zechariah, and this is my brother Joshua. We also are glad to testify on Amina’s behalf. Our aunt Hodaya adopted her after the Thirteenth of Adar, and she and Amina loved each other very much. She was like a daughter to our aunt, lovingly caring for her as our aunt’s health deteriorated in her final years. Besides the love bonding them like mother and daughter, they also shared a bond of understanding because our aunt was also lame.” He paused to draw a breath, squaring his shoulders. “We know Amina to be a godly woman who worships God faithfully and joyfully. When Reuben asked to marry her, we didn’t hesitate to give them our blessing. We knew Amina was a Gentile by birth, but our aunt Hodaya was also a Gentile by birth, yet she had always been completely accepted by our people as one of us. Our father, Zechariah, who was both a priest and prophet, considered Hodaya Jewish and saw her happily married to a Jewish man. Naturally, we considered Amina Jewish for all the same reasons.”
“How old was Hodaya when she was adopted?” one of the men on the jury asked.
“She was a newborn baby. The Samaritans rejected her and left her to die right after her birth because she was crippled.”
“So Hodaya never knew or lived with her people?”
“No.”
“But Amina lived with her family until she was eight years old, correct?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
Ezra winced, seeing where this line of reasoning was going. Devorah’s question still haunted him—What about Ruth? She was a Gentile, raised in the land of Moab. Why weren’t Ruth’s children—including King David’s royal family—considered Gentiles?
Jacob held on to Amina’s arm as she waited to be questioned next. “I have only a few questions for you,” the jury foreman said. “Did your family take part in pagan rituals to false gods when you were growing up?”
“Yes, they did.”
“And you participated with them?”
“As a child, yes.”
“Have you ever returned to your people or to your village after you became an adult?”
Ezra saw fear in her eyes. A few seconds passed before she replied. “Y-yes, I returned to my sister Sayfah’s village to visit her.”
“And did you participate in any form of pagan worship as an adult?”
Amina took longer to reply this time. Her voice became softer. “I-I attended a harvest festival with Sayfah. But I was careful not to eat sacrificed meat or anything else unclean. I went to see my sister, not to worship. I didn’t know what the festival would be like.”
“And what was the festival like?”
She stared down at her feet, not at the men. “Embarrassing . . . unholy . . .”
“Did you leave when you saw it was a pagan festival?”
“No. I didn’t leave, although I wanted to. I had no way to get home.”
The foreman looked at the other men to see if they had any questions. When they shook their heads he said, “That’s all. You may go.”
Ezra stood. “Wait. I have a question, if I may. . . . What made you decide to leave your people and give up your family’s gods to follow the Holy One?”
Amina raised her head to reply. “Because I saw that everything Hodaya taught me about Him was true. I learned how wonderful the Almighty One was, and that He was a God who loves His people and provides for them. I saw how He saved them on the Thirteenth of Adar. And He became my God when He saved me. My uncle tried to make me go back with him to live with my people, and Sayfah insisted I had to go. So I prayed and begged God to save me and allow me to stay with Hodaya so I could worship Him. The Holy One answered my prayer and made a way for me to stay. He has been my God ever since.”
“Thank you. You may go,” Ezra said, sitting down again. “Send Reuben in, please.”
Chapter
59
JERUSALEM
Reuben paced the hallway while he waited for Amina to come out. He thought he might be sick. He hadn’t known such fear since going into battle fifteen years ago. If only he could fight for Amina with arrows or a sword instead of waiting here helplessly. At least he might stand a chance of prevailing with a weapon. Would he have to live estranged from Amina at the end of the trial, or estranged from God? Amina said she wouldn’t let him disobey God—and Reuben knew God well enough by now to fear turning his back on Him. He had turned away from God the first time because He had allowed Abba to die. Did he trust Him enough to believe it wouldn’t happen again—that God wouldn’t take Amina away from him, too?
Lord, help us. Please help us.
At last the door opened and Amina and the men came out. “How did it go?” Reuben asked.
“Hard to tell,” Jacob said. “We did our best.”
Amina pulled free from Jacob and ran into Reuben’s arms. “I’m so sorry, Reuben . . . I should have listened to you . . . I never should have gone to the festival in Sayfah’s village.”
“It’s going to be all right, Amina,” he assured her, but his gut made a sickening turn at her words.
“They’re waiting for you,” Jacob to
ld Reuben.
He squeezed her tightly, then released her again. “Don’t let her out of your sight,” he whispered to Jacob as he moved past him. “Please!”
Reuben stepped into the council chamber and faced the seated men, closing the door behind him. He saw Rebbe Ezra seated behind the others, and their gazes locked for a moment before the rebbe looked away. The jury foreman asked Reuben to take an oath before the Holy One to tell the truth, then Reuben remained standing before the men.
“We would like to ask you a few questions,” one of the men on the jury began. “Were you aware your wife was a Gentile Edomite before you married her?”
“Yes. She told me so herself. But she was Jewish in every possible way and—”
The man lifted his hand to cut him off. “Were you warned by anyone that you would be disobeying the Torah if you married a Gentile?”
“No. In fact, the two priests who just testified gave us their blessing. I’m sure they must have told you—”
“Yes, they did.” Again, the elder’s raised hand stopped Reuben. “Have you ever known your wife to worship other gods?”
“Never! Amina is a devout woman who worships only the Almighty One.”
“What about the pagan festival she attended with her sister?”
Reuben felt sick. So this is what Amina had meant. How had they found out about it? Reuben glanced at Ezra as anger and bitterness rose up inside him, and he thought he saw a warning look in the rebbe’s eyes. “What about that festival?” Reuben asked.
“Your wife told us she attended a pagan festival before you were married. Did you know about it?”
“Yes. I took her there myself and—” The moment he spoke, Reuben knew he had said the wrong thing. It would sound as though Amina had led him astray, enticing him to her village to worship idols—the very reason mixed marriages were forbidden. “Please, let me explain,” he begged. “The only reason Amina went there was because she loves her sister, and—” And her sister worshiped idols. Reuben was making a bad situation worse.
“Didn’t her eagerness to go back to her people serve as a warning to you that she may not worship God wholeheartedly? That she might be drawn to pagan ways?”
“No, because it wasn’t true. Amina wanted her sister to know about our God. That’s why she went to visit her. I hid in the village and watched the festival from a distance the entire time so I could protect Amina. I swear under oath right now that she didn’t participate in any way in that pagan festival.”
“What about you? Have you ever participated in pagan rites?”
Reuben opened his mouth to deny it, then stopped.
“Remember, you’ve sworn to tell the truth, Reuben.”
He swallowed a lump of bile. “When I lived in Casiphia, I attended some pagan festivals with my Babylonian friends. Not because I believed in their gods but for the pleasures they promised.” If the jury asked what he had done there, Reuben couldn’t have said. He used to drink until he passed out and often had no recollection of what he’d done the next day. “I committed those sins long before I met Amina. They have nothing to do with her. I’ve repented of my former life, and God has forgiven me. My wife and I worship Him alone.”
“But you admit you were drawn to foreign gods?”
“No! I was never drawn to them. From the time I was very young, my father taught me the confession of our faith, ‘Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.’ I attended the yeshiva and became a Son of the Commandments, and then my father was killed on the Thirteenth of Adar. I was attracted to the pagans’ immoral celebrations, not to their gods. . . . Why are you even asking me about this? My past has nothing to do with Amina. That life left me feeling empty and alone. I would never go back to it. I’ve repented, and I’ve been assured that my past has been forgiven.”
“One more question: Did you swear an oath in the temple with the other men that you would divorce your Gentile wife?”
He felt tears stinging his eyes. “No. I couldn’t swear such a thing. I would rather lose my life than lose Amina.”
“If the committee decides you need to divorce your Gentile wife, do you understand the consequences if you fail to abide by their decision?”
“Yes. I understand.”
“Thank you. You may go.”
Chapter
60
JERUSALEM
Ezra’s heart ached as he watched Reuben leave the room, his steps brisk with anger, his shoulders hunched with defeat. The jury had finished questioning him and would now discuss his case before reaching their decision. As much as Ezra longed to ask the jury to show mercy, he couldn’t do it. But he could use the Torah to shed extra light on Reuben’s case as Devorah had advised him to do. She had shown him the precedents in this situation weeks ago, but he hadn’t listened. He rose from his seat as God began telling him what to say.
“Before you begin your deliberations, there is something I would like to add to this case,” he said, walking around to face the men. “Ever since my brother Jude died on the Thirteenth of Adar, I’ve harbored a deep hatred for Gentiles. I’ve denied it all these years, but after consulting God’s Word, I now understand that my hatred was greatly displeasing to God. I intend to repent and offer a sacrifice to ask for His forgiveness. Such hatred cannot remain in my heart, especially during these inquiries. It cannot remain because God doesn’t hate the Gentiles. And what I’m about to explain from the Torah will show that.” The men watched him eagerly as if surprised by his confession.
“This is our first case involving a Gentile who has completely abandoned her false gods to worship the Holy One. I’ve been searching the Torah for a precedent to see what God would say in this instance, but first I need to ask—is there anyone here who isn’t convinced this woman’s conversion is real?”
“It seemed genuine to me,” one man said.
“We heard sworn testimony from two well-respected priests and from her adoptive family,” another added.
“Does anyone believe Amina worships idols?” Ezra asked. “Even when she visited her sister’s village?”
The men all shook their heads.
“Good. Then I think the precedent for this case is the story of Ruth, who was a Gentile and also a Moabite. The Torah not only forbids intermarriage with Gentiles, it also says, ‘No Moabite or any of his descendants may enter the assembly of the Lord, even down to the tenth generation. For they did not come to meet you with bread and water when you came out of Egypt.’ Yet Boaz was allowed to marry Ruth, who was clearly both a Gentile and a Moabite. And nowhere in the Torah or the writings do we see any hint that the Almighty One considered their marriage wrong or that their descendant, King David, was a Gentile because of his Gentile ancestress. Was God making an exception for David? Looking the other way? God said, ‘No Moabite or any of his descendants may enter the assembly of the Lord,’ yet David and his heir, Solomon, built the temple and worshiped in the assembly of God’s people. God even made an everlasting covenant with David’s family, promising that the Messiah would come through him.”
Ezra paused to look around at his audience and saw the men following his line of reasoning with interest. “We know God is just and doesn’t bend or change His laws. Therefore, the only way I can reconcile the Torah’s two clear laws with David’s history is by concluding that God did not consider Ruth a Gentile or a Moabite. We have the written record of her confession of faith: ‘Your people will be my people and your God my God.’ She faced a difficult decision—to stay with her people and worship their gods, or turn her back on them and follow her mother-in-law, Naomi. Ruth chose the Jewish people and our God. She demonstrated her trust in Him by walking away from a secure future with her own people to join a helpless, impoverished widow with no hope or future, clearly trusting the Almighty One’s promises for provision. The important thing is that God considered her conversion to the Jewish faith genuine. From the moment she confessed her faith and then acted on it, Ruth was no longer a Moabite. Therefore, her
children weren’t considered Gentiles under the Moabite curse.”
“That makes sense,” the foreman said.
“God’s Word confirms His acceptance of Gentile believers in another case,” Ezra continued. “In the scroll of Joshua we have the story of another woman’s conversion, a Canaanite woman from Jericho named Rahab who lived before Ruth. She is also an ancestress of King David. We see the same sequence of events in Rahab’s story. She confessed her faith to the Israelite spies when she said, ‘the Lord your God is God in heaven above and on earth below.’ She demonstrated that faith against tremendous odds and at great risk to her own life by first hiding the spies, and then by tying the scarlet cord in her window. Our ancestors had demonstrated the same faith when they put the blood of the lamb on their doorposts at Passover. Rahab chose to leave her people and follow God, placing all her trust in Him. And her faith led to her salvation. After her conversion, she married an Israelite, who was Boaz’s father, in fact. Again, there is no indication at all in God’s Word that this was a mixed marriage or that their children weren’t considered Jewish.”
Ezra paused as he tried to read their faces. Was there agreement—or had hatred of the Gentiles infected some of them as much as it had infected him? “We see the same pattern in both cases,” he continued after a moment. “These women forsook their pagan gods and their own people. They confessed—then demonstrated—their faith in the Almighty One before they were married. Neither Rahab nor Ruth converted in order to marry a man they loved. From the moment they turned to God, they were no longer considered Gentiles in the Almighty One’s eyes, but true Jews. The amazing truth is that someday the long-awaited Messiah will come through two Gentile women who put their trust in the God of Abraham.” He paused to look at each of the men on the jury before saying, “It is my opinion that Amina’s conversion to our faith clearly follows this pattern. She is not a Gentile but a Jew by faith.”