On This Foundation (39 page)

When he finished praying, Nehemiah felt at peace. God had brought him here to build the wall, and He would keep him safe until it was finished. Nehemiah lay down in his bed and slept through the night.

He woke up rested the next morning and went up to the temple with his brothers for the morning sacrifice. Afterward, as they were getting ready to descend the stairs, Hanani stopped him and pointed to the western horizon. “Nehemiah, look!”

A jolt of alarm quickened his heart. Was it enemy soldiers? Should he find a trumpeter and sound the alarm?

“Clouds, Nehemiah!” Hanani said, nudging him. “Those are storm clouds on the horizon, coming from the Great Sea. This is the season for the early rains—and they're coming!”

Nehemiah was speechless. He gazed at the distant splotch of gray that marred the vast expanse of blue sky, unable to move until Ephraim nudged him again. “We'd better finish that last gate before we all get soaked.”

They hurried down through the city to the very bottom of the ridge, to the Dung Gate, Malkijah's gate, the last one to
be completed. It took all morning for the first door to be lifted and maneuvered into place. Nehemiah stood inside the wall with his brothers and Malkijah, watching as the workers hung it on its hinges. The workers swung it open and closed a few times, testing the massive iron hinges, then prepared to repeat the process with the second door. By noon, clouds covered the entire sky, lowering over Jerusalem like a gray blanket. A damp wind had begun to blow, and Nehemiah saw rain slanting from the clouds on the distant hills.

By the time the second door was hung, the rain fell steadily. No one bothered to take shelter. Nehemiah heard children laughing nearby as they splashed in the puddles and lifted their faces to catch raindrops on their tongues. He felt like laughing with them. The wall was finished and the workmen could return home to plow their fields, the earth now softened by the rain. He watched as the second door swung slowly closed to meet the first one. A great cheer went up as the iron bars lowered into place as they would every night from now on. After standing in ruins for nearly a century and a half, Jerusalem's wall and gates were finished.

All around him, people were cheering—and getting soaked. Rain plastered Nehemiah's hair to his head and rolled down his face. His clothes were as wet as if he had jumped into a river. He didn't care. The ruined city was no longer a disgrace. The God of Israel was glorified.

“What day is it today?” he asked Hanani.

His brother thought for a moment. “The twenty-fifth day of Elul.”

They had completed the wall in fifty-two days. A miracle! Less than six months had passed since King Artaxerxes had granted Nehemiah's request. Only two months had passed since he'd arrived in Jerusalem. And in five more days it would be Rosh Hashanah, the start of a new year.

“When our enemies hear about this,” Nehemiah said, “all the
surrounding nations will be afraid and lose their self-confidence. They'll know that this work was accomplished with the help of our powerful God.”

“And the nobles' conspiracy?” Malkijah asked him quietly.

“They can no longer deny that the hand of God is upon me. Perhaps once they realize that, they'll fear Him, as well.”

Nehemiah resolved to no longer live in fear. His guards could return to their homes. It didn't matter if he died now that his work was done. And clearly, the Almighty One was with him. It was time to go home and get out of the rain. Dry off. Change his clothes.

“Governor Nehemiah,” a voice called to him as he started walking up the hill toward his residence. “What's next?” The question had come from the crowd of people who continued to follow him nearly everywhere he went.

“Rosh Hashanah is next,” he replied. “The beginning of a new year. We'll celebrate the fall feasts, and after that we'll dedicate the new wall.” He wished he knew for certain what would come after that.

“Are the prophets right? Are you going to be our king?”

It was a question he continued to wrestle with. After working day and night these past few months, it was only natural to feel at a loss now that his all-consuming task of building the wall was complete. Would God give him another job to do to make use of his energy and leadership skills?

“A king in Judah . . . A king in Judah,” the crowd began to chant.

Nehemiah didn't reply as he continued up the hill. Maybe his work wasn't finished after all. He knew he would have the full support of the people as their king and could continue to defeat Judah's enemies with the Almighty One's help. After organizing the work on the wall, it would be a simple matter to organize and train an army. He could start with the brave volunteers who'd waited in ambush with him to surprise their
attackers. With an army and a walled city and a crown, he might be able to win his nation's freedom from the Persians.

The chanting crowd followed him all the way to his residence. “A king in Judah . . . A king in Judah!”

And Nehemiah realized how badly he wanted it to be true.

Extol the L
ORD
, O Jerusalem;

praise your God, O Zion,

for he strengthens the bars of your gates

and blesses your people within you.

P
SALM
147:12–13

J
ERUSALEM

C
hana thought of Yitzhak as Sarah and Yudit helped her dress for her wedding. She could barely picture Yitzhak's face anymore or recall the sound of his voice or his laughter, the memories eroded by time. She had prepared the garment she now wore for a marriage that had never taken place. Chana had been blindly, joyously in love with Yitzhak, and she knew she didn't feel that same love for Malkijah.
“
Would
you
be
willing
to
settle
for
contentment
?
For
companionship
?”
Malkijah had once asked her. She had replied,
“
Yes
,
I
believe
I
could
find
contentment
here
with
you
.”
And as she'd gotten to know him these past months, she had even more reason now to believe they would be happy together.

“You look beautiful,” Sarah told her. Chana gazed at her reflection in the bronze mirror and saw a woman whose happiness on her wedding day had indeed made her beautiful.

“It's a pity we have to cover you up with this veil,” Yudit teased as she placed it on Chana's head.

“Wait! Don't cover her up yet,” Abba said, hobbling into the room with his cane. “I want to see my beautiful daughter one last time before she leaves our nest to become Malkijah's
wife.” He kissed both of her cheeks, and they hugged each other tightly. Chana didn't want to cry, but she remembered how she'd wondered if Abba would live to see this day. She saw tears in his eyes, too. “I know Malkijah isn't your first choice for a husband—” he began.

“But he'll be a very good one,” she quickly finished, not wanting to be reminded of Yitzhak again. “I'm happy with your choice, Abba.”

“There's just one thing,” he said, lowering his voice. “I wish your mother were here to talk to you about . . . about what to expect . . .”

Chana laughed and laid her palms on his pale, round cheeks, now flushed with embarrassment. “Don't worry, Abba. The women in your district have filled in for Mama with all the advice I'll ever need.”

“Good. Good . . . Shall we go out to the courtyard? Are you ready?”

Chana nodded, and they walked outside together to the vine-covered chair where she would wait for her bridegroom. Friends and relatives filled their courtyard, waiting with her for Malkijah's procession to arrive.

“The rain stopped just in time,” Yudit said, lifting her palms to the sky. “I didn't want to pray for it to clear up since we need rain so badly, but the Holy One is smiling down on you, Chana.”

She gazed at the western sky above the wall she had helped rebuild and saw the clouds slowly parting around the setting sun. The evening promised to be clear and dry. “Maybe our wedding feast will be lit with moonlight,” she said.

They had decided to get married in Malkijah's Jerusalem home instead of his estate in Beth Hakkerem out of consideration for her father, who still tired easily. And perhaps it was better to be married in a different home than the one where Malkijah had wed his first wife. Chana also thought it best to keep Aaron away from the estate for a while longer. She won
dered how he and Josef felt about their father's marriage, how they would adjust to having her in their home. These thoughts weren't supposed to occupy her on her wedding day, but they did.

Before long, Chana heard the joyful music of Malkijah's procession as it made its way down the Street of the Bakers, growing louder, closer. Her heart raced in time to the music as the people around her clapped and sang with the musicians. Malkijah arrived dressed like a prince, smiling and handsome as he came through the gate. She wondered for a moment if he was thinking about his first wife, Rebecca—remembering her the way Chana had thought of Yitzhak. It didn't matter if he did. It was good to recall the people they'd loved. But as Abba once said, she needed to live in the present—and trust the Holy One for her future.

Malkijah stopped in front of her and lifted her veil, making Chana smile at this traditional reminder of their ancestor Jacob. He hadn't taken a close look at his bride and had been deceived into marrying Leah instead of his beloved Rachel. Malkijah took Chana's hands and helped her to her feet. The music became even livelier and more joyful as they paraded up the hill together to his home. It seemed as though everyone in Jerusalem had come out to watch the procession, clapping and singing with the musicians, small children skipping ahead of them along the path.

The courtyard of Malkijah's home had been transformed. “It's so beautiful,” she murmured. “Like
Gan
Eden.” A canopy stood in the middle of it, decorated with vines and palm branches. Linen cloths covered the tables, spread with a banquet of food prepared for their wedding feast. Malkijah opened jars of his famous wine so guests could toast the new bride and groom. Chana stood with Malkijah beneath the canopy and vowed to be his wife for as long as they both lived.

Afterward, the feast began, with music and laughter and plentiful food beneath the starlit sky. Chana couldn't imagine a
more perfect celebration or a more perfect evening shared with her family and friends. Even Governor Nehemiah had come at their request, looking content and relaxed for once. The only shadow on the festivities came when Chana glimpsed Aaron watching from the doorway. She'd face challenges in the months and years to come. But she and Malkijah would get through the hard times together, God helping them.

Very late in the evening, Malkijah took Chana's hand and led her into the bridal chamber. He took her into his arms and pulled her close, looking into her eyes for a long moment before bending to kiss her. As his lips met hers for the first time, Chana felt the strangest, most wonderful sensation—as if her insides were melting. “What are you thinking about, my beautiful bride?” he asked when their lips parted again.

She smiled up at him. “I was thinking how wonderful that kiss felt. . . . And how much I wished you would kiss me again.”

Malkijah granted her wish.

J
ERUSALEM

N
ehemiah rarely left his residence on Shabbat to go anywhere except the temple. But now that the wall and gates were finished, his brother Ephraim had moved his family back to their modest home at the southern end of the city. He'd invited Nehemiah to share the noon meal with him, and they were walking down the Street of the Bakers together after the Sabbath morning sacrifice when they were halted by a caravan of merchants entering through the Valley Gate. A string of donkeys blocked the road, swaying beneath huge loads, carrying jars of wine and baskets of grapes and figs. Unbelievably, a second caravan followed right behind it, the pungent odor betraying its cargo of fresh fish.

“What's going on?” Nehemiah asked in astonishment. “They're bringing all this into Jerusalem on the Sabbath?”

“They're heathens,” Ephraim said with a shrug. “They don't observe a day of rest.”

“I need to do something about this.” Nehemiah spotted the lead driver, more nicely dressed than the others, and called, “Stop! You, there—stop right where you are!” The ponderous caravan drew to a halt in the middle of the street. “I'm Nehemiah
ben Hacaliah, governor of the province of Judah. Who are you? Where are you coming from?”

“These goods are from Tyre, but the merchants who sell them to the people of Judah live here in Jerusalem.”

“If your merchants live here, they should know that every seventh day is a Sabbath day of rest when all work must stop. You cannot bring your goods into Jerusalem or sell them on the Sabbath.”

The man took a stubborn stance, arms crossed. “This is news to me. The officials who governed this province before you never stopped us. In fact, Judah's nobility has a vested interest in our trade being successful.”

“Not anymore. This practice must stop. There will be no more buying or selling on the Sabbath day—starting today.”

“That's absurd! Even your fellow Jews don't follow such a law. Go out to some of their villages and see for yourself. The men of Judah tread their winepresses seven days a week and harvest their grain and olive crops, too. They'll be clamoring to buy my fish today as soon as we set up our booths in the marketplace.”

“No, they won't. Not today. Turn your animals around and go right back out through that gate.” Nehemiah planted himself squarely in front of the lead pack animal, blocking the way into the city.

“What are we supposed to do outside the gate? We have fresh fish to sell.”

“You'll have to wait until the sun sets and the Sabbath day ends. And if your cargo spoils, you'll learn a valuable lesson for next time.” When the driver glared at him, not moving, Nehemiah grabbed the donkey's bridle and started turning the animal himself.

“Wait! Don't pull on her. I'll do it.” He shouted orders to the rest of his men and the caravan slowly turned around in the street, the donkeys braying loudly. The commotion drew people
out of their homes, and Nehemiah saw men and women peering from their windows and rooftops to see what was going on.

“The Holy One has commanded us to remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy,” Nehemiah said, shouting so all the people could hear him. “You have six days to do all your work, but the seventh is a Sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you nor your servants nor your animals, nor the strangers within your gates. . . . That includes you and your caravan,” he told the lead driver. “If you ever do this again I will lay hands on you.”

Nehemiah's fury smoldered as he continued down the hill to Ephraim's house. “I've always stayed home on the Sabbath, so I didn't know this was going on,” he said. “But trust me, it isn't going to happen in the future.”

“Don't be surprised if those merchants set up their market outside the gates,” Ephraim told him. “Or if our fellow Jews go out there to buy from them.”

“Even on the Sabbath?”

Ephraim nodded. “This has gone on since Ezra retired as governor, but no one has tried to stop them before. Everyone reasoned that the merchants were foreigners who didn't have to keep the Law.”

“If they're in my province, they have to obey our laws.”

Nehemiah laid aside his anger for the sake of his family and enjoyed the day of rest. But as soon as the sun set, he finished making plans to hold a council meeting with all of his nobles and officials and district leaders. Part of the reason was to claim his authority before the conspirators gathered enough support to call their own meeting and challenge him. But the main purpose was to explain his future plans now that the wall was finished.

As he stood on the dais in his council chamber the next day, Nehemiah could guess by the expressions on the men's faces—either anger or curiosity—which ones were on his side
and which ones supported the conspiracy. Maybe they would all desert him by the time the meeting ended.

He began without preamble. “Now that the wall is done and all the gates have been set in place, I'm putting my brother Hananiah ben Hacaliah in charge of supervising Jerusalem's defenses. He knows their strengths and weaknesses better than anyone. The temple citadel will be under the command of Hananiah. He's a man of integrity who fears God more than most men do.” Nehemiah also knew that he wouldn't be intimidated by the noblemen behind the conspiracy.

“From now on,” he continued, “the gates of Jerusalem will remain closed until the sun is hot, rather than opening at dawn. This delay will prevent any surprise attacks by our enemies before our citizens are fully awake. In the evening, the gatekeepers on duty will shut and bar the doors for the night before it gets dark. Hanani will also appoint residents of Jerusalem as guards, some at their posts and some near their own homes.”

“I thought the threat of an enemy attack was no longer an issue now that the wall is finished,” Meshullam said. Nehemiah knew him to be one of the traitors.

“The worst possible time to lower our guard is when we believe the crisis has passed,” he said, remembering the Thirteenth of Adar. He paused, wondering if he should say more about having enemies in their midst, then decided to continue. “My next announcement concerns the Sabbath. Yesterday I encountered some merchants from Tyre who were bringing fish and other merchandise into Jerusalem to sell to the people of Judah on the day of rest. These merchants assured me that this is a common practice, allowed by the nobles of Judah before I arrived.”

He paused again, waiting for their response. When no one spoke he said, “I rebuked them and sent them outside the city to wait. But now I'm rebuking you. What is this wicked thing you're doing—desecrating the Sabbath day? Didn't your forefathers
do the same thing so that our God brought all this calamity upon us and upon this city? Now you're stirring up more wrath against Israel by desecrating the Sabbath. Is it any wonder that our province has been without rain for two years?”

He stepped down from the dais as his anger stirred him into action, walking between the rows of men and looking many of them in the eye. Some wouldn't meet his gaze. “These foreign merchants who don't know our God or His law assured me that Jews all over the province tread their winepresses and do other work on the Sabbath. These are
Jews
, people in
your
districts who are doing this, people who are supposed to know our God. Do you understand what the word
desecrate
means? It means turning what is sacred into common use and profaning it. Making the seventh day just like any other day by doing work or buying and selling instead of keeping the day holy and set apart as God commanded.

“Each of you is responsible for setting an example in your district. Our role as leaders is a sacred trust from God, not something we deserve or covet or strive for. We must govern with justice and integrity as God's representatives and follow His law, not our own. Here in Jerusalem, when evening shadows fall on the city gates before the Sabbath, the doors will be shut, and they won't reopen until the day ends. A temple priest will sound three blasts on his trumpet to announce the precise moment of sunset when the people must cease their labor. Three more blasts will follow to mark the division between the common day and the sacred one. The trumpet will be sounded again when the Sabbath day comes to an end. I've commanded the Levites to purify themselves and guard all the gates from now on to help keep the Sabbath holy.”

If some of these leaders were disgruntled, their faces didn't reveal it. No one spoke or argued with him. All of the men on Malkijah's list were in this room, and Nehemiah knew they would report everything he said to Tobiah at the first opportunity. Let
them. With God on Nehemiah's side, Tobiah would be no match for him. He no longer feared a coup by disgruntled members of Judah's nobility. His life was held firmly in His hands.

Nehemiah had one more announcement to make, but the room felt too dark and confining to him. “Follow me,” he said as he strode toward the door. “There's something I want to show you.” Outside, the rain continued to fall intermittently, but Nehemiah didn't care if he got wet. He led the men down the hill along the city's eastern wall, halting at the southern tip near the Fountain Gate. The misty rain beaded on the men's clothing and hair like tiny jewels. For their nation, the rain was every bit as precious as jewels.

“After surveying this city countless times while constructing the wall, I believe I know every square inch of it,” Nehemiah said. “And it has bothered me for some time that although the city is large and spacious, comparatively few people live in it. Take this entire neighborhood, for instance. None of these houses have been rebuilt.”

“What can we do about it?” Rephaiah said, lifting his palms. “Most of the men who returned with Zerubbabel or with Rebbe Ezra chose to return to their ancestral estates.”

“I understand. But even with new walls and gates, this city and the Almighty One's temple will be difficult to defend if we don't have enough men living here. So here's my plan. More than thirteen years have passed since Rebbe Ezra arrived, and nearly one hundred years since the first families returned with Zerubbabel. During that time, no one has recorded our people's births and deaths. God has put it in my heart to assemble the nobles, officials, and common people and register all of them by families.”

“You're taking a census?”

“Yes.” It had occurred to Nehemiah that if the Almighty One did make him king, he would need to know how many fighting men he could recruit. “Yes, and once we have an accurate figure
of Judah's population, I plan to cast lots and bring one out of every ten men here to live in Jerusalem.”

Nehemiah could tell that his announcement surprised every man on his council. They began talking and arguing amongst themselves, and as he listened, Nehemiah was encouraged to see that more of them seemed in favor of the idea than opposed to it. He wiped the rain from his face and raised his voice to be heard above the noise. “I'm guessing that some men may decide to move here voluntarily, especially second- or third-born sons who won't inherit their fathers' ancestral land. And especially when they learn that I'll be rebuilding houses for them to live in at my own expense.” The discussion rose in volume following his remarks. Nehemiah let it continue for a few minutes, then called for silence.

“I expect each of you to return to your own districts and begin the census registration as soon as possible. You're also responsible for holding the lottery to select one out of every ten men in your district to move here. If you have any questions, you're welcome to bring them to me in my audience hall. That's all, gentlemen. You are dismissed.”

He strode up the hill without waiting to hear their comments or arguments. The rain was coming down harder now and he silently thanked God for it.
Remember me for this also, O my God, and show
mercy to me according to your great love.