Keepers of the Covenant (25 page)

“‘And you, Ezra, in accordance with the wisdom of your God, which you possess, appoint magistrates and judges to administer justice to all the people of Trans-Euphrates. . . .’”

He looked up at the chief counselor again. “Wait. Why am I singled out, here? Surely the king doesn’t mean that I’m in charge—”

“It’s exactly what he means. King Artaxerxes has appointed you governor of the province of Judah. He was impressed that you didn’t try to flatter him or lie to him in order to gain what you wanted. He said such integrity was rare in his empire.”

“But I’m not qualified to be governor. I never asked to be in charge. Not of the entire province.”

“That’s precisely why he appointed you—because you didn’t ask to rule. The king doesn’t want leaders who grasp for power and pose a threat to his sovereignty.”

“But Judah should be governed by a descendant of our king, from the House of David.”

The counselor shook his head. “King Artaxerxes doesn’t want your king or your princes or any of their descendants to sit on the throne. He wants you.”

“You must accept the position, Ezra,” one of the counselors urged. “If you refuse, the king might change his mind.”

Ezra lowered his head, tugging his beard. “All I asked for was permission to return to Jerusalem and be a priest. I want to study Torah, not run a province.” But he would obey the king’s order because it meant his people also could return home. They would live securely in their land and serve their God.

“Is that the end of the letter?” another elder asked. Ezra shook his head and finished reading.

“‘And you, Ezra, administer justice to all the people of Trans-Euphrates—all who know the laws of your God. And you are to teach any who do not know them. Whoever does not obey the law of your God and the law of the king must surely be punished by death, banishment, confiscation of property, or imprisonment.’”

“Does he mean . . . I’m to teach God’s law to all the people of the province? Not just the Jews?” Ezra asked.

“Yes. By order of King Artaxerxes.”

Ezra dropped to his knees in the council room, his heart so full it overflowed. “Praise the Almighty One,” he said, lifting his hands. “The hand of the Lord our God is surely on us!”

Ezra thought of Devorah and his children again as he and the elders hurried back to the Jewish section of town to relay the good news. He longed to see his wife, never imagining he could miss someone as much as he missed her. He wondered how quickly he and the elders could pack up and go home.

“Good news!” he told his fellow Jews. “The king has granted our petition! Today we have seen God’s promise fulfilled.”

Ezra made a copy of the king’s letter that night, adding it to the journal he’d kept since leaving home:

Praise be to the Lord, the God of our fathers, who has put it into the king’s heart to bring honor to the house of the Lord in Jerusalem in this way and who has extended His good favor to me before the king and his advisers and all the king’s powerful officials.

On the return trip, Ezra pushed his caravan to travel as far and as fast as they possibly could each day, resting only on the Sabbath. He had watched the moon’s phases and realized it still might be possible to arrive home in time to see Judah and Shallum become Sons of the Commandments. On the final week of the journey, he prodded everyone to start moving before dawn each day and didn’t stop traveling until well after sunset. He would have gladly run all the way home if he’d had the strength. They reached the blue-tiled gates of Babylon on the very evening of his sons’ bar mitzvah, and Ezra left the caravan behind to race to the Jewish section of the city alone, praying he wasn’t too late.

The house of assembly was packed for evening prayers when he arrived. Ezra stood in the rear to watch, too dusty and sweaty from his final, frantic sprint to venture further inside. Tears of joy and pride filled his eyes when he saw his sons standing side by side on the bimah with the Torah scroll open in front of them. Shallum was about to read the passage Ezra had practiced with him, but he halted, distracted, when he looked up and saw his father. Judah saw Ezra, too, and as the boys grinned at him and gave a little wave, other members of the congregation turned around to see why. Ezra smiled as he wiped his tears and motioned to Shallum to keep reading. He listened with pride as both his sons read flawlessly.

Afterward, everyone gathered around Ezra in the plaza outside. He saw his beautiful wife and couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms. But first he quieted the crowd, saying he had an announcement to make. “The hand of the Lord our God was upon us, and the king of Persia has granted our petition. Sons and daughters of Abraham, we’re going home to the Promised Land!” The huge cheer that followed this news was deafening.

At last the crowd dispersed and Devorah came to him, taking his arm as they walked home with their children. She looked up at him and smiled. “I think I’d better start packing.”

B
ABYLON

E
zra tried not to awaken his household as he crept through the gate into his courtyard on weary legs. The sun had set hours ago, and he assumed everyone was asleep by now, but he saw a lamp burning, the coals on the hearth glowing faintly, and Devorah sitting beneath the stars as she waited up for him. “I’m sorry I’m so late,” he said. “I had no idea what an enormous undertaking it is to move thousands of people from Babylon to Jerusalem. There’s still so much to think about and plan and organize, and we’re leaving in a matter of days and—”

“You missed supper,” Devorah said, rising to greet him with a kiss. “Again! I saved you some soup. It’s on the hearth, so I think it’s still warm. And there’s bread, too. Are you hungry?”

“Yes. I completely forgot to eat.”

She shook her head at him, a mild rebuke. “If you keep skipping meals, you’re going to starve to death right here in Babylon and never make it to Jerusalem.” She gestured for him to sit and ladled out a bowl of soup, setting it and the bread in front of him. “Did you forget how to sit down and eat a decent meal?” she asked when he remained standing. “Shall I feed it to you, too?”

Ezra managed a smile as he sank down. It felt good to relax.
The fragrant smell of lentils and onions made his stomach rumble as he lifted the first spoonful to his mouth. “People keep changing their minds, Devorah—we’re staying, we’re going, we’re staying—what can I do with such people?”

“I wouldn’t want your job,” she said. “It’s hard enough getting our household packed and ready. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for thousands of people and all their baggage. No wonder you’re exhausted. No wonder you haven’t been sleeping.”

He ate several more spoonfuls and tore off a piece of the bread. The warmth of the hearth beside him dispelled the night air. “Please don’t share this with anyone, Devorah, but my biggest concern is safeguarding the gold and silver we’re transporting. King Artaxerxes donated enormous amounts, plus more gold from the province of Babylon and all the freewill contributions we’ve collected. I have no idea how we’ll get it there safely.”

“What did Prince Zerubbabel do when his group traveled to Jerusalem with the temple treasures? They had huge quantities of gold and silver, too, didn’t they?”

“Yes, but King Cyrus sent Persian soldiers to guard the prince’s caravan.”

“Won’t we have soldiers this time?”

“I was ashamed to ask the king for them after assuring him our God keeps His hand on everyone who looks to Him. How could I ask for human protection after such a testimony?”

She looked at him for a long moment. “Do you believe what you told the king? That God protects His people?”

“Of course, but—” He saw her smiling. “Oh. I see your point.”

“Everyone is praying, aren’t they?” she asked. “The Almighty One already performed a miracle to bring this about. I think you can stop worrying, Ezra.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” But after finishing his soup and bread, he found himself worrying all over again. “I’ve been so
overwhelmed that I haven’t had time to ask if you need my help here at home.”

“The children helped me pack.”

“And what about Abigail and her new husband? They’re still coming, right?”

“They wouldn’t miss this trip for anything.”

“And Asher and his family?”

“Your brother is ready—but he’s still fussing over all the things he’ll need to learn once he gets there to serve as a priest. You should hear him.” She mimicked Asher’s nasal whine as she said, “‘Studying Torah and killing lambs at my age? Maybe I should just make pots in Jerusalem, instead.’” Ezra smiled at Devorah’s imitation, easily imagining his brother’s frenzied fussing. “Asher’s sons are looking forward to being priests, too,” Devorah continued. “And so are our sons, by the way.”

“Just like our ancestors,” Ezra said in wonder. “It’s so amazing. A few months ago I worried about our boys turning into Babylonians. Now they’ll be priests! Only God could have performed such a miracle. But what I don’t understand is why every Jew in the empire isn’t packing to come with us. Why remain in exile and live among these filthy Gentiles when we can return to our homeland? I just tallied the final numbers a little while ago and I was astounded by how very few of us have chosen to return.”

“We were exiled well over one hundred years ago, Ezra. I guess a lot of people think of Babylon as their home now.” She picked up his empty bowl. “Are you still hungry? There’s more soup.”

He shook his head. “Everyone is free! We can leave this idolatrous place. Everyone should leap at the chance to go home! I told the Jews I met in Susa they were free to come, too, but none of them are joining us.”

“You can’t condemn those who remain behind, Ezra. God is the judge of their hearts and motives. You provided the opportunity and helped open the door. Now they’re accountable to God
for the choices they make. A lot of Jews have prospered here. They probably don’t want to give it all up for the unknown.”

“But they’ve seen how quickly our lives can change, how unexpectedly a new king can come to power and give our enemies a chance to destroy us. Are our people’s memories that short? We commemorate Haman’s terrible decree every year on the Fourteenth of Adar. What am I doing wrong? Weren’t my speeches inspiring enough? How can I convince more people of the need to leave this place?”

“Remember what God told Samuel when they demanded a king?” Devorah asked. “He said, they aren’t rejecting you, they’re rejecting God.”

Ezra rubbed his tired eyes. “Rejecting God is even worse.”

“Are you sure you don’t want more to eat?” Devorah asked, gesturing to his bowl.

“I’m sure,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Come to bed, then. And stop worrying. Trust God.”

Four days later, Ezra led his family and a long line of wagons and camels and donkeys through the towering blue and gold gates of Babylon. He didn’t look back. They traveled for only a few days before setting up camp near the Ahava Canal to wait for Jews from other cities to join them for the nine-hundred-mile journey.

Devorah looked exhausted as they ate dinner after the first leg of their journey. She went into their tent to put the children to sleep and didn’t come back. Ezra knew she had probably fallen asleep alongside them. He couldn’t relax enough to sleep, so he sat across the campfire from his brother Asher, who was keeping the coals alive on this cool spring night. Ezra opened his journal and began to write in the dim light:

Because the hand of the Lord my God was on me, I took courage and gathered leading men from Israel to go up
with me. I assembled them at the canal that flows toward Ahava, and we camped there three days. . . .

He paused to read over the lists of family heads as he recorded them in his journal, and he made a startling discovery. “Asher! There aren’t any Levites traveling with us! Not a single one on any of these lists!”

“What difference does that make?” Asher asked, poking the coals with a stick.

“I’ve been commissioned by the king of the Persian Empire to offer his sacrifices and to draw our nation back to God—and there aren’t any Levites to help do that. Levites are integral to our worship as assistants and musicians. We need them to be teachers and judges. What am I going to do?”

“You can’t really blame them, can you?” Asher asked. “Aren’t most of their tasks menial ones? Who would want to leave the comforts of Babylon to be a temple servant?”

“No task is menial in God’s sight. We all have a part to play. As the psalmist wrote, ‘I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.’ And that’s one of the Levites’ most important jobs—to serve as temple guards and doorkeepers.” He lowered his voice and added, “In fact, we could use them right now to help guard all this treasure we’re hauling. I wish I knew where to find some Levites so I could convince them to come.”

Asher continued poking the coals, then suddenly looked up. “Hey! What about that city where we bought the swords? Remember? Weren’t there several families of Levites who’d been exiled there?”

“You mean Casiphia?”

“Yes. That blacksmith . . . what was his name? He told us he was a Levite, remember? And he had a son.”

“We’re not far from Casiphia. I’ll send a delegation of elders there first thing tomorrow to try to convince them to come.”

“Why not go yourself, Ezra? You can be very convincing. I gave up Abba’s pottery business to come with you, didn’t I?”

“I can’t leave the caravan,” Ezra said, lowering his voice again. “I feel responsible for all this treasure we’re carrying. In fact, Devorah suggested I call for a day of fasting and prayer to ask for God’s protection. But you could go with the delegation in my place. You could recruit the blacksmith we met and his son.”

“Sure. I’ll go,” Asher said.

Ezra stayed up long after Asher went to bed, compiling a list of twelve trusted men to send to Casiphia, including nine elders and two of his fellow scholars. He hoped the scholars could convince the Levites of the importance of their calling.

As the smoldering fire gave away the last of its heat, Ezra recorded the names of the men he’d chosen in his journal and went to bed.