On This Foundation (41 page)

“I can't help thinking that it's my fault. I know I indulged my sons after their mother died—and I'm reaping the results of that now.”

“Even if you did indulge them, the choices Aaron made aren't your fault.”

“This is the part that's hardest of all to admit, Chana. . . . I made some bad choices, too. I became greedy these last few years, wanting more and more, wanting the security of full barns and storehouses when I already had more than enough. I told myself I was being kind to the poor when they had to mortgage their land to me, but the more land and servants I acquired, the more I wanted. I convinced myself that it was for my sons, for their future. But then when the other men obeyed Governor Nehemiah and canceled their loans and mortgages, I was afraid to do it, afraid to trust God and believe that I would have enough if I obeyed. You were right to condemn me, Chana. My greed set a terrible example for my sons, teaching them that they were entitled to take whatever they wanted—and now I'm paying the price.”

“It's never too late to start over. Shouldn't our marriage prove that's true?”

“You're right, you're right. . . . But in the meantime, I have a storehouse full of regrets.”

They finally rose from the table and retired to their bedroom for the night. But even after putting out the lamps, Chana knew her husband was still thinking about Aaron and Shimon, wondering what to do. “Would Aaron have turned out this way if we had been poor?” he asked aloud in the darkness. “If we weren't noblemen at all, and we owned nothing but a small patch of land? I would rather lose everything I have than lose my sons.”

“Then why not try it?” she asked softly. “Give everything away, Malkijah. . . . Rich or poor, I'll always stand by you.”

J
ERUSALEM

T
he eastern sky was just turning light as Chana walked with Malkijah and his sons from their Jerusalem home to the square in front of the Water Gate. From the corner parapet on top of the temple mount, the sound of shofars shattered the early morning stillness as the priests announced the Feast of Trumpets. It wasn't yet dawn on the first day of the New Year, but hundreds of people filled the streets, streaming from all parts of the city to hear the reading of the Law on Rosh Hashanah. The closer Chana got to the square, the more crowded the streets became, and Malkijah rested his hand on her shoulder so they wouldn't lose each other.

Workers had cleared away the construction debris, leaving a broad, open space for the people to assemble. A dozen priests and Levites took their places where everyone could see them on a high wooden platform built for the occasion. As the new day broke, Rebbe Ezra also climbed the platform, carrying the Book of the Law of Moses. The scroll's elaborate silver finials sparkled in the early light as he unrolled it. The people who had been seated stood up to listen.

“Praise the Lord your God,” Ezra called out, “the great God who is from everlasting to everlasting!”

Chana joined the others, lifting her hands and saying, “Amen! Amen!” Then all the people bowed down and worshiped the Lord with their faces to the ground.

“You alone are the Lord,” Ezra continued. “You made the heavens and all their starry host, the earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them. You give life to everything, and the multitudes of heaven worship you. Give us understanding now, we pray, as you speak to us from your holy Torah.”

Chana lost track of the passing of time as Ezra read aloud from daybreak until noon, facing the square before the Water Gate. Everyone listened attentively to the Law, and to the Levites who instructed them, making the Law clear and translating the Hebrew into Aramaic for those who didn't understand. The Levites also explained the meaning of the passages for the people's daily lives, so that everyone could understand what they heard. Many began to weep as they listened. Tears rolled down Chana's face, too, as the depth of God's love and grace became clearer and clearer to her.

Standing beside her, Malkijah seemed deeply moved as well. He lifted his hand to his face, pressing his eyes with his fingers as Ezra read the commandment, “‘You shall not covet your neighbor's house. You shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or his manservant or maidservant, his ox or donkey or anything that belongs to your neighbor.'” She knew his heart was breaking from the mistakes he'd made in raising his sons. His shoulders shook with his grief when Ezra read the words, “‘If a man beats his male or female slave and the slave dies as a direct result, he must be punished.'”

Chana resisted the temptation to glance at Aaron and see his response to the voice of the Almighty One in His Torah. Was he listening and joining in worship with everyone else? But she also knew that this day and the days of soul-searching
and repentance leading up to Yom Kippur were meant for her every bit as much as for Aaron. She also had sinned against the Almighty One in her attitudes and deeds and neglectfulness, and she needed forgiveness as much as Aaron did.

By the time Ezra finished, the sun was high in the sky and the sound of weeping could be heard all over the square. Governor Nehemiah mounted the platform. “This day is sacred to the Lord your God,” he said. “Do not mourn or weep. It's commendable that you feel sorrow for your sin, but it's also important to express your joy in our God and in the covenant He has made with us. Stop weeping, and celebrate with joy because now you understand the words He has spoken to you. Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, remembering God's many gifts. Send some to those who have nothing prepared, thanking God for the privilege of sharing with others. This day is sacred to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

As the people slowly left the square to return home, the Levites emphasized Nehemiah's words, calming the people and saying, “Be still, for this is a sacred day. Do not grieve.”

“We need to go to Beth Hakkerem tonight,” Malkijah told his family. “We must do as the governor said and send gifts to the people in our district.”

“I'll be happy to help,” Chana said.

Every day in that week leading up to Yom Kippur, Rebbe Ezra read from the Book of the Law, and Chana listened with all the people. On the evening before the Day of Atonement, she shared a meal with Malkijah and his sons in their home in Beth Hakkerem. Malkijah grew somber after they'd eaten as he addressed Aaron and Josef.

“Tomorrow, when the high priest carries the blood of the sacrifice before the Holy One's mercy seat, we will confess our sins and ask Him to forgive us and cleanse our souls. According to tradition, that includes asking forgiveness from one another.
God can't forgive us if we haven't asked the people we've hurt for forgiveness. His forgiveness mirrors our own.”

He paused, waiting quietly for his sons' responses. Malkijah had told Chana that he wanted to be at the estate in case Aaron repented and decided to ask Nava for forgiveness. But Aaron remained stubbornly silent, staring out into the cloud-filled night as if thoroughly bored. It was his younger brother, Josef, who finally spoke in a halting voice.

“Father . . . I need to tell you something. The wine that went missing from your storeroom . . . ?” He gave his brother a frightened glance. “Aaron and I stole it. . . . I'm sorry, Father.”

“Thank you for your honesty, son. Anything else?”

“Well . . . sometimes when you gave us a job to do . . . we made the servants do the work so we could go off and drink wine instead.” He glanced at his brother again, but Aaron sat with his arms folded, his face as cold and hard as stone.

Chana knew her husband had spoken with all of his servants and was already aware of his sons' behavior. But he had wanted to give them a chance to confess voluntarily rather than accuse them, fearing they would add the sin of lying to all the others.

“I forgive you, Josef, and so will the Almighty One,” Malkijah said. “But remember, a sign of true repentance is that we make a commitment to change. We turn from our sin and walk in a new direction.”

Josef nodded. He seemed too distraught to say more. Again Malkijah waited, as if giving Aaron a chance to speak, but his elder son stared down at the table in sullen silence until his father finally excused everyone from the table. “I don't know what else to do, Chana,” he said when they were alone.

“I think you're wise to wait. Doesn't the Holy One wait patiently for us to repent?”

They returned to Jerusalem for the Day of Atonement, but even after participating in the temple sacrifices on this holiest day of the year, Aaron remained unmoved. On the fifteenth
day of the month, the Festival of Sukkot began, and Malkijah constructed a booth for them to live in during the days of the feast. Chana had never celebrated Sukkot this way before and neither had anyone else in Jerusalem. But when Rebbe Ezra read the words of the Law they'd found the command to go out into the hill country and bring back branches from wild olive trees and myrtles, palms and shade trees to make booths to live in to remember their years of wandering in the wilderness. The people obeyed, building huts on their rooftops and in their courtyards and in the courts of the temple and the square by Water Gate.

“We haven't celebrated Sukkot with such great joy in a long, long time,” Shallum said when Chana and Malkijah shared a meal with him and her sisters. “Everyone's joy is so very great!” Including her own, Chana thought. Abba was well again, and she had found true contentment with Malkijah.

The weeklong Festival of Booths ended with a sacred assembly on the temple mount. In a spontaneous show of repentance, the people fasted and wore sackcloth and dust on their heads as they prepared to renew their commitment to God's law. Again, Chana stood in the courtyard with the others for three hours as Ezra read from the Book of the Law. Three more hours flew past as they stood confessing their unfaithfulness and the wickedness of their fathers. Then the Levites called out, “Stand up and praise the Lord your God who is from everlasting to everlasting.”

What followed was one of the most beautiful prayers Chana had ever heard, recalling God's grace and power in creation, His covenant with Abraham, His deliverance from Egypt, and the parting of the Red Sea. The prayer spoke of God's faithfulness in the wilderness, even when His people were unfaithful, and the covenant He made with them at Mount Sinai. Throughout the recitation of her people's history, Chana recognized God's great compassion, how He saved her people time after time.
In all that had taken place, God had been just and had acted faithfully, while her people and nation had done wrong.

When the prayer ended, Governor Nehemiah stood in front and said, “In view of all this, we are making a binding agreement, putting it in writing, and are affixing the seals of the Levites and priests to it. We're promising to follow the Law of God given through Moses and to obey carefully all His commands, regulations, and decrees. With His help, we have finished Jerusalem's wall. And we learned in the process of rebuilding it to work together and to take care of one another, the rich helping the poor. Now we need to renew our commitment to God. I believe that He has withheld the rain and sent enemies among us so that we would return to Him. And so we're taking this oath today, promising not to intermarry with the peoples around us. We will no longer buy or sell on the Sabbath or any holy day. Every seventh year we will allow the land to rest, and cancel all debts. We'll give the required one-third shekel every year for God's temple, along with the first fruits of our herds and flocks, our meal, grain, fruit, wine, and oil. A tithe of our crops will go to the Levites, so that the house of our God will not be neglected.”

When Nehemiah finished, Chana watched her husband go forward with the rest of the men to take the oath and affix his seal to it.

Later that evening she found Malkijah alone on the roof of their Jerusalem home and went to sit beside him. “What's wrong?” she asked. “I can tell that something is still bothering you, even after all of the sacrifices today at the temple.”

“I didn't do right by Shimon. Even if it was an accident, justice must be done and his family must be recompensed for his loss. But I don't know where to find any of his family members. Years ago, when I went with Shimon to graze Abba's sheep, I met his brothers and several nephews who were about my age. They were all shepherds, and I believe they live somewhere in
the district of Beth Hakkerem, but I don't know where.” He stood as if too restless to remain seated and began pacing in front of her. “As far as I know, they are his only family. Shimon's wife died years ago, and he never had any children. But I need to find his next of kin, Chana. Will you help me?”

Her heart started beating faster. The time had come to tell him the truth. Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered Shimon's great love for Malkijah, and for a moment she couldn't speak around the lump in her throat. He saw her tears and said, “What is it, Chana? What's wrong?”

She motioned for him to sit beside her again as she searched for a place to begin. “Before Shimon died, he told me how you used to go into the fields with him when you were a boy. And he told me a story about a fight you had with his nephews . . . and how your nose got broken. Do you remember that fight, Malkijah?”

He reached up and absently pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to make it straight again. “Yes, of course I remember.”

“Do you remember what the fight was about?”

He hesitated then said, “Yes. The other boys said I wasn't really a nobleman but a common shepherd like them and—” He halted, frowning as he stared at Chana. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“They were telling the truth, Malkijah,” she said. A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. “Shimon is your real father. I'm weeping because I know how very much he loved you. How proud he was of you.”

Malkijah shook his head as if stunned. “How . . . how can that be?”

“Shimon's wife died after giving birth to you. He was heartbroken and had no idea how he would ever take care of you. When his master's newborn son died a day later, the midwife convinced Shimon to trade babies and let Recab raise you as his son. Recab and his wife never knew the truth.”

“So . . .
I'm
Shimon's next of kin?”

“Yes.”

Malkijah covered his face with both hands. She could tell he needed time to absorb the truth. When he finally looked up again, he had tears in his eyes. “I wish I had known. . . . All these years . . .”

“Was I wrong to tell you now?” Chana asked, touching his arm.