Keepers of the Covenant (36 page)

J
ERUSALEM

T
he past three days had been the longest ones in Reuben’s life as he waited for all the men in the province to gather in response to Rebbe Ezra’s proclamation. The chief Levite, Yonah, hadn’t assigned Reuben to a guard post during that time, and he was afraid he knew why. Rebbe Ezra and the other leaders wouldn’t make him give up Amina, would they? It was impossible to think of such a thing! They had been married for nearly two months now, the happiest months of Reuben’s entire life.

Today was the twentieth day of the ninth month, and the waiting was over. People from all over the province had arrived in Jerusalem, streaming into the city in spite of the torrential rains. It was time for Reuben to join them on the temple mount to hear Rebbe Ezra’s decision. Reuben had waited at home as long as he’d dared in order to avoid the rain and frigid cold, but now it was time to go.

“Please, stay home by the fire,” he begged Amina. “You’re going to make yourself sick going out in this weather.”

“I need to hear what they say,” she insisted. “This is our life they’re deciding, Reuben. Our future.” Amina had just learned
she was expecting their first child. Their joy had been boundless. Now fear overshadowed their joy.

They left the house together and were drenched before they even reached the stairs to the top of the mount. The air felt nearly cold enough for Reuben to see his breath. The outer courtyard of the temple was packed already, the huddled men and women wearing their warmest wool robes. The huge crowd looked larger than for the fall feasts two months ago. He reached for Amina’s hand so he wouldn’t lose her in the throng.

“You’re shivering!”

“I’m so scared, Reuben.” Her teeth chattered when she spoke.

“I know. I’m scared, too. But no matter what, they can’t make me leave you. They can’t!” He squeezed her hand tightly to reassure her.

For the past two days, Reuben had tried to find Rebbe Ezra and ask for his help. Surely Amina wasn’t a foreign wife, was she? Her Jewish family adopted her at a young age. She’d grown up in a Jewish home. She had certainly never worshiped idols. The sons of Zechariah the prophet knew her background, and they hadn’t protested their wedding. In fact, Joshua and Johanan had celebrated with them in Bethlehem. And why had the priests given Amina the honor of weaving their robes if they believed she was a pagan Edomite? Reuben’s efforts to find Ezra had been futile. The priests insisted he was in seclusion. And in spite of Reuben’s attempts to reassure Amina and himself, nothing had diminished their terrible fear.

Reuben had been present in the temple courtyard to hear Rebbe Ezra’s prayer at the evening sacrifice three days ago. He’d heard the men swearing an oath before God to send away their foreign wives and children. But Reuben hadn’t raised his hand or sworn. How could he?

He searched for a place to sit as others were doing and managed to find a spot of pavement that didn’t look too damp. He
and Amina sat side-by-side in the crowded courtyard, the closeness of their neighbors offering a little warmth.

“Everything will be fine, Amina. Please don’t worry. Rebbe Ezra will explain what he means by foreign wives, and I’m sure you and I will be safe. You can’t possibly be considered a pagan.” He took both of her hands in his. Her trembling fingers were icy cold.

At last Rebbe Ezra emerged from one of the priests’ chambers. The crowd parted to make way for him as he walked to the platform set up in the outer courtyard. He looked weary and cold, his shoulders hunched against the rain. The murmuring died away, and as he began to speak, his voice sounded hoarse. “We’ve been unfaithful to our God and to His Torah. We’ve married foreign women, adding to Israel’s guilt. Now repent and make confession to the Lord, the God of your fathers, and do His will.”

Confess?
Reuben wondered.
And then
what?
The rebbe had taught him the proper steps: repent, confess, and then turn away from your sin. But how could Reuben confess and turn away from his sin when he hadn’t done anything wrong? Amina wasn’t an idolater. She worshiped the same God he did.

“For the sake of our people and our covenant with the Almighty One,” Ezra continued, “you must now separate yourselves from the peoples of the land and from your foreign wives.”

Reuben’s heart raced faster as a murmur swept through the crowd. He slipped his arm around Amina’s shoulder and drew her close, not caring who saw him.

“Our entire community decided on this action in conformity to the Torah,” Ezra said. “I have a mandate from the king of Persia to enforce the Torah’s laws. I prefer you divorce your pagan wives voluntarily so it won’t be necessary to resort to stricter punishments. But our survival depends on our obedience to the Almighty One. Are we agreed?”

When the majority of people answered with a loud “Amen!”
Reuben was speechless. He heard shouts of “Yes, you’re right!” and “We must do as you say.” Then as the crowd quieted, he began hearing murmurs of protest. He felt the relief of a momentary reprieve as four men stood and made their way forward to the foot of Ezra’s platform. Reuben recognized one of them as a fellow Levite, a man named Shabbethai.

“We stand opposed to this ruling,” Shabbethai said, gesturing to the other men. “Jonathan ben Asahel, Jahzeiah ben Tikvah, Meshullam, and I oppose your decree.”

“On what basis?” Ezra asked. “The Torah is very clear in this matter of mixed marriages.”

“But exactly who gets to decide whether or not an individual is considered a Gentile? What if our wives have given up their gods to worship the God of Abraham? Doesn’t a judgment need to be made on these matters?” Reuben held his breath, feeling a sliver of hope as Rebbe Ezra considered the question.

“History shows,” he finally replied, “that while the ancestors of the Samaritans claimed to worship the Almighty One after they settled in our land, they continued to cling to their own gods, as well. The result is this unholy mixture of people and beliefs we see today among the Gentiles.”

“But aren’t we at least entitled to a fair, individual hearing before being forced to comply with your edict?” Shabbethai asked.

“I suppose each case could be decided separately,” Ezra said, “after seeking the counsel of God.” He lifted his hands as he appealed to the crowd. “Would convening a jury, here and now, as Shabbethai suggests, be acceptable to you?”

The crowd began to murmur, and Reuben couldn’t tell what their answer would be. One of Judah’s elders rose and stepped forward. “I believe we are agreed,” he said, “but there are many people here and it’s the rainy season. We can’t remain outside while waiting for each case to be considered individually. Besides, we can’t take care of this matter in a day or two because there
are hundreds of marriages involved, scattered throughout the province.”

Everyone in the audience began talking at once, and Ezra had to call for quiet. “Why not let our officials act for the whole assembly?” the elder continued. “Then let everyone in our towns who has married a foreign woman come at a set time, along with elders and judges of each town, so a decision can be made. It’s important to do this quickly so the fierce anger of our God in this matter will be turned away from us.”

Ezra turned to Shabbethai and Meshullam and the other men who’d protested. “If a jury listens to each case, will you agree to abide by their decision?” he asked them.

“We will. But we want our voices heard first.”

“Then we will do as you have proposed,” Ezra said. “I’ll select a jury of men from among the family heads, one from each family division, to investigate individual cases. We’ll draw lots to decide the order in which each town and village will stand before the jury, which will meet in my council chamber.”

“May we bring witnesses to speak in our defense?” Shabbethai asked.

“Yes, of course. And I’ll be present as a nonvoting member to make sure the jury’s decisions adhere to the Torah. I’ll need a few days to set everything up, so we’ll begin on the first day of the tenth month. You are all dismissed.”

“Let’s go home and get warm,” Reuben said. He helped his wife to her feet, and they shuffled from the crowded courtyard with all the others. Reuben’s outer robe was so wet he could probably wring water from it. Amina’s hair dripped beneath her soggy head covering. She looked pale with cold and fear.

“I’m scared, Reuben.”

“It’s going to be fine. Rebbe Ezra knows me. He’ll listen to me and decide in our favor. You’ll see.” He helped Amina kindle a fire inside their tiny house and waited for her to dry off and change into warm clothes. But he didn’t remove his outer robe.

“Aren’t you going to put on dry clothes?” she asked.

“I need to go back up to the temple. I forgot to check when my next guard shift is scheduled.”

“Can’t you wait until the rain stops?”

“I’m already wet. . . . I won’t be long.” He kissed her and went back out into the cold.

Reuben wasn’t surprised that his name still wasn’t on the roster. He found one of the chief Levites who confirmed what he had already guessed. “We thought you should take some time off, Reuben, until this matter is cleared up.”

“You mean the
matter
of my Gentile wife?” he asked angrily. “Amina is more devout than I am!”

“I’m sorry, Reuben.”

He needed to find Rebbe Ezra. Now. He’d heard the rebbe spent his days praying in one of the temple’s side rooms, so he made his way first to the Levites’ changing room to put on his white robe, knowing it would give him access to all the sacred areas. When Reuben finally barged into the rebbe’s room, he found him seated with his elbows on his knees, his hands covering his face. He looked up as Reuben entered.

“Reuben? What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to beg for mercy, Rebbe,” he said, closing the door behind him. “You’re going to sit on the jury that decides Amina’s and my case—”

“No, I’m not on the jury. I’m sorry. I’m simply serving as an advisor on matters of the law. The family heads will hear your case and—”

“And they’ll tell me I have to divorce her? I won’t do it! This is cruel!”

“Reuben, please listen—”

“Why? So you can tell me how terrible and sinful I am for marrying Amina? I’ve done everything you’ve said. I’ve cleaned up my life, repented of my sin, and worked hard to serve God and follow all His rules. And now God says my love for Amina
is wrong? That falling in love with her was a sin? Then I’ll live in that sin! Because our love and our marriage aren’t wrong. Our child is a blessing, conceived within marriage vows—vows we spoke before God. You and your jury are wrong!”

“You have to understand, Reuben, that our wives set the tone of the home. They raise and influence our children until they’re old enough to learn at the yeshiva. Women are responsible for keeping all the dietary laws in our homes, and for keeping the Sabbath and the feast days. They pass on our heritage as God’s people. A Gentile wife can’t do those things.”

Reuben was ready to explode. “If you knew Amina, you’d know she’s already doing all those things!”

“Listen, Reuben—”

“Are you saying God can forgive me for being a thief and for turning away from His laws for most of my life, but He can’t forgive me for falling in love? That’s crazy! What am I supposed to think of a God like that?”

“He’s wiser than we are. We have to trust Him and—”

“I love her! Do you love your wife, Rebbe? Could you give her up?”

“I realize God is asking you to do a very difficult thing—”

“It’s an impossible thing! I won’t leave Amina. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love her. If God says I can’t serve in the temple because I’m married to her, then I’ll turn in my robe and resign right now. If He says I have to divorce her and abandon our child, then He’s unfair, and I don’t want to serve Him.”

“God is never unfair. He always has a good reason for His decrees.”

“You said that about my father’s death, too. How do you expect me to trust God when He does such incomprehensible things?”

“Reuben, if only you knew how much I long to help you—”

“Then do it! Help me! Figure something out! Come up with a different ruling!”

“I can’t, don’t you see? This is a moral dilemma for me, too. Either I disobey God and abandon the reforms I believe in and have worked for all my life, or I enforce God’s law and hurt you and all the other people I love. I have to choose God. There’s no other choice for me.”

“What about mercy? You showed mercy to me once before and gave me another chance.” Reuben dropped to his knees in front of Ezra. “Please! I’m begging you for mercy now, Rebbe Ezra. Please don’t ask me to divorce Amina.”

“Reuben, don’t beg. Stand up,” he said, pulling Reuben’s arm.

“Amina is expecting our first child,” he said, refusing to stand. “How can I abandon my wife and child? You’re on the committee. You can decide in our favor.”

Ezra dropped to his knees, as well, and gripped Reuben’s shoulders. Tears filled his eyes as he said, “Reuben, I’m sorry. It’s up to the jury. There’s nothing I can do.”

“You can! But you won’t!” Reuben scrambled to his feet. “I’m finished with you. And with all of this!” He strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.

J
ERUSALEM

A
mina performed her daily tasks of grinding flour and making bread in a daze of shock and grief. The leaders said her marriage to Reuben must be dissolved. She had tried not to weep in front of Reuben, believing his assurances that he’d never abandon her and their unborn child. But when she was alone, as she was now, her tears couldn’t be stopped, anointing every task she performed.

She had believed God loved and accepted her, but it had been a lie. She was an Edomite, the enemy of His chosen people. Nothing could alter that fact. The rejection and shame that dogged her early years had caught up with her at last. She was worthless, a shameful disgrace. And the man she loved more than her own life would be rejected because of her. Reuben had told her the truth only this morning that he wasn’t being assigned a shift at the temple because of her. He hadn’t said
because of her
, but she knew that was the reason. He had kissed her before leaving home, saying he needed to talk with one of the local blacksmiths about a job.

She let the grinding stone slip from her hand as she covered her face and sobbed. Hodaya said the Almighty One was a God
of mercy and grace. Why was He turning His back on Amina now? If He had always been against her, why not let her die when her family died years ago? Why give her hope and love . . . and then snatch it away again?

The heavens didn’t reply. The flour remained unground, the bread unbaked. Amina knew she should finish preparing a meal for Reuben before he returned, but she lacked the strength. He was a Levite, not a blacksmith. How could she let him sacrifice his faith and his people and his calling as a Levite—for her? How could she let him face God’s judgment for disobeying the Torah? Reuben was being asked to choose between her and God, and he had to choose God. For Reuben’s sake, she needed to make certain he did.

Amina dried her eyes and rose to her feet. The only solution was for her to return to her own people where she belonged. Rebbe Ezra’s jury was going to compel Reuben to divorce her, so she may as well leave now and spare him the pain of doing it or the penalty for refusing. She had been a fool to believe she would be accepted among the Jews—hadn’t Sayfah been telling her that all along? Her sister said Amina would be welcome if she returned to their people for good. It was where she belonged. Her father had been right to treat a cripple like her with such contempt.

She tidied up the flour and put away the grinding stone. She raked the coals so the fire on the hearth would go out while she packed her meager belongings, tying them up in a small bundle. Then she gazed around one last time at the beautiful little home that Reuben had so lovingly built for her. The Almighty One had never intended for it to be hers.

The sky poured rain as if to punish Amina further as she limped through the city streets toward the ramp leading down to the valley. She slipped and fell twice on the slick cobblestones as she hurried to get away before Reuben returned. She fell three more times on the muddy road as she walked to Sayfah’s village
on the other side of the valley, skinning her knees, scraping the palms of her hands, dirtying her robe. She’d never walked this far on her own before, juggling her crutch and her unwieldy bundle of belongings, and the journey took Amina all day. She was soaked and shivering by the time she reached the seated elders at the entrance to Sayfah’s village. “I’m here to visit my sister,” she told them through chattering teeth. She saw their disdain as they waved her through.

Amina went around to the rear gate of her sister’s house and knocked, aware of how filthy and bedraggled she must look. Sayfah answered with a toddler on her hip and seemed not to recognize her at first. “Amina? . . . What are you doing here?”

Amina dropped her bundle to hug her sister tightly, the child squirming and protesting between them. “May I stay with you, Sayfah? We’re still sisters, aren’t we? No matter what?”

Sayfah held her at arms’ length beneath the overhanging roof to look her over. “What happened to you?”

“I had to walk all the way here . . . and I fell a few times.”

“But . . . why did you come? What happened to the Jewish man you were going to marry?”

When Amina thought of Reuben and how she would miss his strong arms and the warmth of him by her side, the pain in her heart was nearly unbearable. But she knew she had been right to leave him. “Things didn’t work out,” she replied. “I’ve—I’ve left him. May I please stay with you until I figure out where else to go?”

Sayfah seemed to soften a little at the sight of her terrible grief. “I’ll have to ask my husband when he comes home . . . but . . . but I think it will be all right.”

Amina remembered how Hodaya had gladly taken the two of them into her home, not caring what her sons said or thought about her decision. Hodaya’s kind heart had convinced Amina to believe that the Almighty One was a God of love and compassion. But He was compassionate only toward Jews, not toward
Gentiles like her. She wondered for the first time if the jury would have made Hodaya divorce her husband, too? Even now, would Jacob and Hodaya’s other sons be rejected by the community because of their Gentile mother?

“Thank you,” she told Sayfah. “I had no place else to go.”

“What about all your Jewish friends?” Sayfah asked as she led her into the warmth of her house. Amina could only shake her head, forcing back the tears that threatened to give her away. “I tried to tell you that you belonged with our own people,” Sayfah said.

“I know. You were right.” And Sayfah had been right to treat Amina with such cold contempt, just as their parents had. Amina took a few minutes to clean up and change out of her wet clothes, then she went out to the courtyard to help Sayfah chop onions and garlic and soak the dried fish to prepare it for dinner. “Let me help you with the meal,” she said and quickly went to work, freeing Sayfah to tend to her son. Amina decided not to mention that she was expecting Reuben’s baby. Sayfah would eventually see the truth for herself. But in spite of the distractions, Amina couldn’t take her mind off Reuben. How much time would have to pass until she could forget him? Months? Years?

Never. She would never stop thinking of him, loving him.

When Sayfah’s husband returned home, Amina was careful to stay out of sight, just as she’d done in her home village. “I asked my husband if you may stay,” Sayfah told her later, “and he says you may if you agree to work for us as a servant. I’m sorry, but we aren’t wealthy people, and we can’t afford to support you unless you earn your own way.”

“Yes, that’s as it should be. I don’t mind being your servant.” It would be better this way. If they considered her part of the family, they might force her to marry, and she could never be unfaithful to Reuben. She would never love anyone but him.

Sayfah served her husband and ate with him, but Amina ate alone, like a proper servant. She had returned to the place
where she’d started, a rejected cripple, bringing shame on her family. “I’ll fix a bed for you in the storeroom,” Sayfah told her.

“That will be fine.”

As Amina lay there later that night, shivering beneath the thin blanket, listening to the mice skittering among the storage jars, she knew this was her punishment for being born an Edomite. Her family had attacked God’s people and had tried to destroy them. But as she tried to pray to the Almighty One, she still wondered why He had given her so much happiness, only to snatch it all away from her again.