On This Foundation (42 page)

“No,” he replied, still shaking his head. “No. . . . But this changes everything.”

B
ETH
H
AKKEREM

N
ava squeezed the curd-filled cloth with both hands, letting the whey drip into a pottery bowl. The process was messy, but along with caring for her goats, making cheese was one of her favorite tasks. Intent on her work, she was only vaguely aware of the whispered voices and halted activity in the kitchen until Penina hurried over to her worktable. “Leave that for now. Master Malkijah is asking all of his servants to come out to the main courtyard this morning. He has an announcement to make.”

“Do you know what it's about?”

“No. No one does. Come.” Penina bustled off again to gather the rest of her kitchen crew while Nava rinsed the milky whey off her hands and dried them with a towel.

Her master and mistress had done several surprising things this month, including opening their storerooms and providing a feast for their workers during the holidays. They had also built booths outdoors during Sukkot where they and all their servants ate and slept. Chana said it was to remember how their ancestors had lived in tents in the wilderness. “We live in a
sukkah
,” she had explained, “to remind ourselves that we're
under the Holy One's protection and care, just as our ancestors were in the desert.”

Nava closed the kitchen gate behind her and followed the other servants into the main courtyard. Malkijah and Chana stood beneath the dining trellis facing them. So did Aaron and Josef. The family had returned from Jerusalem earlier today after attending the convocation at the temple. Nava found a place to stand beside her friend Rachel and whispered, “What now?”

“I hope it's good news,” she whispered back, “and that it doesn't mean more work for all of us.”

Malkijah lifted his hand, and the whispering stopped. “I'll make this brief,” he said. “Those of you who are bondservants and are not paid wages . . . I'm setting you all free.”

Nava inhaled a gasp of air.
What?
The world seemed to stand still for a moment as her mind whirled in stunned surprise.

“The family debts that brought you here are all canceled as of today. All of them. You're free to go home.”

Nava gave a cry of joy. She and Rachel fell into each other's arms, laughing and weeping at the same time. “Is it true? Is it really true?” Rachel cried. “Oh, Nava, can you believe it?”

“No . . . No, I can't!” Nava was oblivious to everything else in the courtyard as she let the amazing news sink in.
I'm free!
Free! Not six years from now, but today!
She heard shushing sounds as the others called for quiet again.

“What about your olive harvest, Master Malkijah?” the manager asked. He and Penina and Ruth were among the few who weren't bondservants but received wages for their work. “And the winter plowing? The trees and vines will all need to be trimmed, too. How will we do all that work without laborers?” Malkijah shook his head without replying. Nava was surprised to see that he was too overcome with emotion to speak.

“When can we leave?” one of the bondservants shouted out.

Malkijah cleared his throat. “You're free to leave anytime. Now, if you'd like.”

An enormous cheer went up from the servants. “Let's go!” Nava said. She grabbed Rachel's arm, and they ran to their sleeping quarters to gather their meager belongings.

“This doesn't seem real,” Rachel murmured. “I feel like I'm dreaming.”

“I know . . . I know! It's a miracle!” Nava thought of the unfinished goat cheese she had left laying out and wondered if she should go back and help Penina clean up everything. But in the next moment she was picturing Dan and her family, and the joy they would all share at her wonderful news. She was going home—for good! “Let's walk together until the road forks,” she told Rachel.

“I want to run all the way home!” Rachel replied. But when they finished packing and came out of their sleeping quarters, Master Malkijah was waiting near the door with Chana by his side.

“May I have a word with you, Nava?” he asked.

“Yes, my lord.” Her heart felt sick with dread. It wasn't true after all. He was going to force her to stay. But his next words surprised her.

“I need to apologize for not believing you. For believing my son. I now know that he lied to me. I'm very sorry for what he tried to do to you. And while I can't undo his crime, I would like to give you this.” He pushed a small leather pouch into her hand. It clinked with the sound of coins. “Consider it a wedding present. Chana tells me there's a young man you'd like to marry.”

Nava's mind and tongue could barely form words. “Yes, my lord . . . Thank you, my lord.”

“I would also like to return your father's flock of goats to him, along with some grain to feed them.” Nava covered her mouth to hold back her tears as he gestured to a donkey that was loaded with grain sacks. “Will your goats follow you, or would you like some help herding them home?”

The courtyard whirled. “Th-they'll follow me.”

“Again, my sincerest apologies. Can you forgive me?”

Nava remembered thinking she would never be able to forgive her masters. But she found herself saying, “Yes. Of course I forgive you. Shimon taught me that I should forgive others because God forgives me.”

“Nava, it's my deepest wish that my son would also ask you for forgiveness, but he hasn't confessed or repented. Chana and I are praying about how to deal with him in the days to come.”

“I'll pray for him, too.”

He looked surprised. “Thank you. I know he must be punished for his actions, I just haven't figured out exactly how to do that.”

Chana surprised Nava by pulling her into her arms for a hug. “God be with you, Nava,” she said. “I wish you and Dan many years of happiness.”

Nava's family looked stunned later that afternoon when they saw her coming up the road toward home leading the loaded donkey and her little flock of goats. “Nava . . . what is all this?” Abba asked. “What are you doing?”

“Master Malkijah freed all his bondservants and canceled all of our debts,” she replied, laughing and crying at the same time. “Your land belongs to you again, Abba. And I'm free! I don't have to work another day for him.”

“That's . . . that's unbelievable!”

Nava waited until Dan had raced over the hill from his farm to tell them the best news of all. “Master Malkijah canceled your father's debts, too, Dan. And he gave us this bag of silver so we can be married.”

“Praise God . . .” Dan sank to his knees, his eyes closed as tears rolled down his face.

“What does he want in return for all this?” Abba asked. “It seems a little too good to be true.”

“He doesn't want anything. But there's something I think
we should do to show our gratitude. Malkijah no longer has enough workers to finish the olive harvest or do the plowing, since he set everyone free. I think we should gather everyone in the district and volunteer to help him.”

“Why should we do that?” one of her brothers asked.

“Because when God forgives our sin, we're so overjoyed that we serve Him willingly in return, don't we? I think we should show our gratitude to Malkijah the same way for forgiving our debts. He didn't have to do it. And it's costing him a lot.”

“My little Nava,” Abba said, pulling her into his arms. “I've been so worried about you, and all this time you've been growing wiser and kinder than all of us. Of course we'll help Malkijah with his harvest. I think it's a wonderful idea.”

That night, Nava was much too excited to fall asleep. She rose from her pallet while everyone else slept and went outside to gaze at the familiar contours of Abba's land in the moonlight. She was home. The land and crops were Abba's again. Everything was back the way it should be, and the past few months might have been nothing but a bad dream.

Next spring, when the rain ended and the ground settled, Dan would build a room onto his father's house for her. They would live there together for the rest of their lives. Nava lifted her face to the heavens and silently praised God.

J
ERUSALEM

R
ebbe Ezra looked up from his work when Nehemiah entered his study, his pen still poised in his hand. The surface of his worktable lay buried beneath piles of scrolls and clay tablets. “Good afternoon, Governor.”

“Good afternoon. Thank you for agreeing to see me, Rebbe.”

“I'm very happy to. Please, have a seat.”

Nehemiah glanced around the cluttered room for a place to sit and finally removed a pile of scrolls from a chair as he'd done the first time he'd visited, holding them on his lap while he and Ezra talked. Nehemiah hadn't wanted to take the rebbe away from his work by inviting him to the governor's residence, so instead he walked up here to the temple's archives. He also hoped for a chance to talk in confidence with this great man of God about the one question that still occupied his mind and heart.

“So, tomorrow you dedicate the wall,” Rebbe Ezra said. “I assume all the arrangements are in place?”

“Yes. I sent word to all the Levites and singers to come to Jerusalem. They've been rehearsing the songs of thanksgiving and are ready to help us celebrate the dedication with cymbals, harps, lyres, and trumpets. I'm glad you agreed to lead one of the processions for me.”

“I'm looking forward to it.” Ezra laid down his pen and leaned back in his seat. “I understand you've been busy with a few more building projects. I'd thought we'd heard the last of the chisels and hammers for a while, but evidently we haven't.”

“We're building new homes now, Rebbe. The census has proceeded smoothly, and the first settlers are already moving to Jerusalem. I commended the volunteers for their willingness to help repopulate the city.”

“Excellent. Your term as governor has been a very busy one. Didn't you arrive here from Susa only a few months ago?”

Nehemiah smiled faintly. “It seems much longer than that. And when I think about all the events that took place in just this past month—setting the last gate in place; celebrating Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot; the covenant renewal ceremony—I can barely take it all in. The Almighty One's hand has surely been upon us.”

Ezra appeared thoughtful as he stroked his white beard. “And after tomorrow's dedication, what then? Jerusalem's wall is finished, the city is growing and becoming settled, the people have rededicated themselves to the Holy One. What's next for you, Nehemiah?”

He sat forward on the edge of his seat. “That's what I was hoping to talk to you about. I've been praying and asking God for an answer to a question I have—but the Holy One has been strangely silent.”

“What's the question?”

Nehemiah hesitated, aware of how brazen the idea of becoming king might seem to this man of God. “Ever since the prophets first spoke of it, the people have been chanting for me to be Judah's king.”

“Yes, I've heard Noadiah saying, ‘There is a king in Judah.' And I've heard the people echoing her. You enjoy great popularity, especially with the poor.”

Nehemiah sat back again, grateful that Ezra hadn't seemed
outraged by the idea. “But I need to know if it's just the people who think I should be king or if the Almighty One is truly calling me.” He admitted only to himself how badly he wanted it to be true.

Ezra folded his hands on the scroll lying open in front of him. “Tell me—how did you know the Almighty One was calling you to rebuild Jerusalem's wall?”

Nehemiah thought back to that time. “God laid the city on my heart like a heavy weight. From the moment my brother Hanani described the broken-down walls and how disgraced Jerusalem was in the eyes of our enemies, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I fasted and prayed and asked Him to show me what I could do.”

“Why did you want to rebuild God's city?”

“To bring glory to Him so His name wouldn't suffer the reproach and mockery of our enemies. With the city in ruins it made the God of Abraham seem powerless to help His people, but I wanted to show His power and might to the nations. I wanted the glory to go to God—”

He halted. His motivation had been to glorify God, not himself. Yet Noadiah's prophecies had done the opposite, glorifying Nehemiah in the eyes of the people—and in his own eyes, as well. He'd enjoyed hearing them praise his good deeds as they'd followed after him. Deep down, he'd wanted to reign as Judah's next king for the fame and honor it promised.

“O God, forgive me,” Nehemiah said, clutching his head with both hands. “The prophets have spoken falsely! A true prophet of God would glorify
Him
as king, not me. Not a mere man.” For years he had guarded the emperor against usurpers who would try to claim his authority and power—and now Nehemiah had foolishly tried to usurp the one true King's power and authority, claiming the glory for himself.

“I think you know what you need to do,” Ezra said quietly.

“Yes.” Nehemiah left the rebbe's study and went out to the temple courtyard to pray, standing to face His holy sanctuary and the great altar of sacrifice. He bowed his head, asking
the Almighty One for forgiveness. For humility. Ever since his father had opened the door to someone he'd trusted and was murdered, Nehemiah had worried about who to trust. Now he realized that he could trust himself least of all.

“‘Hear O Israel:'” he recited to himself. “‘The Lord is our God, the Lord alone.'” Nehemiah was merely God's servant, not a king. Not the promised Messiah. The people should be following God, thanking and praising the Almighty One—not him. The new wall he had labored so hard to build couldn't save the people. Only God could.

The next day as all of Judah gathered for the dedication of the wall, Nehemiah was certain that the sound of rejoicing in Jerusalem could be heard far away. The priests and Levites had purified themselves, and now they would purify the people, the gates, and the wall. He assigned two great choirs to lead the people in praise, giving thanks to the Almighty One, accompanied by two groups of priests with trumpets, harps, cymbals, and lyres. He asked the leaders of Judah to go up on top of the wall, as well. The two great processions started near the Valley Gate in the center of the western wall. The one led by Rebbe Ezra moved on top of the wall to the right, toward the Dung Gate, while Nehemiah followed the second choir, moving in the opposite direction. From the top of the wall he saw the distant valleys and hillsides turning green from the recent rains.

“You turned my wailing into dancing;”
they sang,
“you
removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my
heart may sing to you and not be silent. O
Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever.”
The glorious music took Nehemiah's breath away. “I wish I could sing God's praises like these musicians,” he told Hanani, walking beside him.

“Then who would lead the people?” Hanani replied with a smile.

They marched on toward the temple mount, past the Tower of the Ovens, over the Yeshana Gate and the Fish Gate as far as the Sheep Gate on the north side of the city, while Ezra's procession circled in the opposite direction. When the two processions met again, everyone took their places inside the temple area. The priests offered great sacrifices, exalting and praising God because He had given them great joy.

“Arise,
O Lord! Deliver me, O my God! Strike all my
enemies on the jaw; break the teeth of the wicked.
From the Lord comes deliverance.”
Nehemiah remembered all of his enemies' threats and plots, how they had tried to destroy him and stop God's work, and he praised the Almighty One for His salvation and deliverance.

At last a hush fell over the gathered people as Nehemiah mounted the platform to speak. “Would any of you have believed that in spite of all the opposition we've faced, we could rebuild this wall in fifty-two days?” A deafening cheer followed his words. He heard some of the people chanting, “A king in Judah! A king in Judah!” He waited for the shouting to die away again and said, “Something miraculous has been at work here. God has been at work. But these walls won't protect us if we're unfaithful to Him. As the psalmist wrote, ‘Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain.' Just as we built this wall on a firm foundation, we need to build our lives and our nation on a firm foundation of faith and trust in the Almighty One. Faith in what we can't always see. Trust that God is at work in every circumstance we face.”

He squinted in the light as the sun emerged from behind the gray rain clouds for a moment. “Everything I've done since I arrived here a few months ago has been with the Almighty One's help. I would have been powerless to accomplish anything without Him. Now my job is finished.” He paused to gaze down at the people who looked up to him so expectantly. “Sons and
daughters of Abraham, I am not your king. You don't need a king. Our forefathers had kings, and they led us astray. We trusted in men instead of trusting the Almighty One, our true King. God will send the Messiah when the time is right. But in the meantime, perhaps there are lessons for us to learn by being in submission to the Persians. That's why, when my term as governor here is finished, I will return to Susa as I promised King Artaxerxes I would do.”

Murmurs of surprise rustled through the crowd. Nehemiah raised his voice and said, “People of God, continue working together as you did while building this wall. Continue helping one another. Continue trusting the Almighty One. He alone is trustworthy. May He prosper and bless you all.”

Nehemiah turned away from the cheering crowd and walked down the hill to his home, alone.
Remember me with favor, O my
God
, he silently prayed.

“See, I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me. Then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come,” says the Lord Almighty.

M
ALACHI
3:1