by Lynn Austin
“Our worst offense was idolatry,” Yonah said, “worshiping the gods of the pagan people around us.”
“Yes. And as the Torah warns, pagan wives will entice our sons to worship idols. The gods of the Gentiles allow immorality and lust. It’s part of their worship. When our people refuse to control their lust, they are drawn to idols that promise no moral restraints. Yet God exiled us to lands known for their sensuality and idolatry. He was testing us to see if we would learn our lesson there or become like them.”
Ezra thought of the men who’d remained behind in Babylon, unwilling to give up its comforts and pleasures. How many generations would it take before their sons and grandsons adopted Gentile ways and forgot the God of Israel? And would the same thing happen here if His people continued to intermarry with Gentiles?
“What should we do about these mixed marriages, Rebbe Ezra?” someone asked. He recognized the man as one of the elders from his council, a man named Shecaniah ben Jehiel. But Ezra didn’t reply, waiting for the community to reach their own conclusions rather than invoking his authority. “Six men from my clan have married Samaritan women,” Shecaniah continued, “including my own father, who married a Samaritan after my mother died. None of the Gentile women who are now part of my clan have renounced their gods, although they say they also believe in the Holy One. But what should I do about it? What should all of us do?”
“What does the Torah teach?” Ezra asked.
“Abraham sent his pagan wife Hagar and their son Ishmael away,” someone replied.
“Can you really expect a man to give up his wife of many years?” a Levite named Shabbathai asked. “And send his own children away? That’s impossible. Doesn’t God care about the bonds of love we have with our families?”
“Of course He does,” Yonah replied. “Yet He told Abraham to send Hagar and Ishmael away. Then He commanded Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac on Mount Moriah. Abraham needed to decide whom he loved more—the Almighty One or his own flesh and blood. He needed to decide if he would obey God no matter what.”
“We recite God’s greatest commandment every morning,” someone else said. “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.’ Love for Him comes first.”
“Yes,” Ezra agreed. “And I have no doubt our brothers will suffer great pain at making such a sacrifice. But we can always expect pain as a consequence of disobedience. Did these pagan wives deceive their husbands into believing they were Jewish? Or did the men knowingly sin?”
“There was a shortage of women among the first group of exiles who returned from Babylon,” a man named Meshullam said.
“That’s no excuse,” Yonah said. “Not when the Torah clearly warns us not to intermarry with Gentiles.”
“Perhaps God caused the shortage of women to test our resolve,” Ezra said. “One of the causes for our exile was idolatry, and so this challenge gave us an opportunity to triumph over the temptation to marry idolatrous wives and bring idols into our homes.”
“And we clearly failed that challenge,” Shecaniah said. “The six men from my clan are all guilty. My own father . . .” He shook his head, too overcome with emotion to speak.
“We all share the guilt of their sin,” Ezra said. “All Jews are responsible for each other in the Holy One’s sight.”
“That’s why we went into exile together,” Yonah said. “And it’s why we’ll all suffer once again if this sin isn’t dealt with.”
The gathered men fell silent, the problem and its consequences clearly spelled out. There was nothing more to say. Ezra knew they were waiting for him to act, but he deliberately refrained from doing so, praying that the will to purge the province of mixed marriages would come from the people themselves. If it did, the guilty men would be opposing the entire community, not just him. Banishment was a severe punishment that could be fatal in such a small community surrounded by hostile neighbors. It should be clear by Ezra’s anguish and torn garments just how severely he judged the matter. The silence lengthened, and the majority of men decided to sit in sorrow with him, some openly weeping as he was doing.
When it was time for the evening sacrifice, Ezra finally rose and went into the Court of Men to worship, shivering in his rain-soaked robes. The swelling crowds followed his every move. He watched as the priest sacrificed a lamb and laid it on the altar to be consumed, hoping the congregation saw a clear picture of sin’s consequences in the animal’s death. Disobedience led to death ever since Adam and Eve disobeyed God in Gan Eden. But the lamb’s sacrificial death also pictured God’s mercy and forgiveness in providing a way to atone for sin.
Afterward, the priest removed a coal from the altar of sacrifice and carried it into the sanctuary, where he would use it to light the incense on the golden altar before God’s throne. The prayers of the people would ascend with the incense. Ezra fell to his knees with his hands spread out to the Lord, praying aloud on behalf of his people:
“O my God, I am too ashamed and disgraced to lift up my face to you. Our sins are higher than our heads and our guilt has reached to the heavens. Because of our sins, we have been subjected to the sword and captivity at the hand of foreign kings, as it is today. Yet the Lord our God has been gracious in leaving us a remnant and giving us relief from our bondage for a brief moment. He has shown us kindness in the sight of the kings of Persia.”
Rain coursed down his face along with his tears as he continued. “But now, O our God, what can we say after this? For we have disregarded the commands you gave when you said do not give your daughters in marriage to their sons or take their daughters for your sons. Our evil deeds and our great guilt have led us to this result and yet, our God, you have punished us less than our sins deserve. Shall we again break your commands and intermarry with the peoples who commit such detestable practices? Would you not be angry enough to destroy us, leaving us no remnant or survivor? O Lord, God of Israel, you are righteous! We are left this day as a remnant. Here we are before you in our guilt, though because of it not one of us can stand in your presence.”
When Ezra finished, he heard many in the crowd weeping along with him. As soon as the sacrifice ended and the last strains of music died away, Shecaniah stood before the men and said, “We have been unfaithful to our God by marrying foreign women, but in spite of this there is hope. Let’s make a covenant with God to send away all these foreign women and their children. Let it be done according to the law and the will of all God-fearing people. Rebbe Ezra, we put this matter in your hands. We stand behind you, so take courage and do it.”
Ezra rose to his feet, hearing in Shecaniah’s words echoes of God’s charge to Joshua and the Israelites: “Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law . . . that you may be successful wherever you go.” To see the people responding so quickly and decisively filled him with hope.
“Are we agreed?” he asked the crowd. “Are we ready to take an oath before the Almighty One, here in His temple, to send away all our foreign wives and their children?” A resounding yes filled the courtyard. When the voices died away again, he faced the sanctuary and lifted his right hand to make a covenant with God. “May God deal with us, be it ever so severely, if we don’t rid our homes and our towns of all our Gentile wives and their children.”
The men in the courtyard behind him, who had also raised their hands to swear the oath, confirmed Ezra’s words with a loud, “Amen.”
“Your oath now carries the same legal and moral force as the king’s decree,” he said, facing the crowd again. “Your willingness—” For a moment, Ezra’s words all fled when he spotted Reuben in the crowd. The young Levite had a wild, frantic look on his face, and Ezra remembered he had married an Edomite woman. Ezra needed to talk with him privately and convince him of all the reasons why he must divorce her. Otherwise, not only would Reuben be stripped of his duties as a Levite, he would be excommunicated from his people.
“Your willingness to make this enormous sacrifi
ce,” Ezra continued after a moment, “is a testimony of your devotion to God and to His Torah. The proclamation I’ll issue will be sent throughout the province of Judah, telling all men to assemble here in Jerusalem in three days’ time to follow through on our oath. Anyone who fails to appear will forfeit all his property, in accordance with the decision of the officials and elders. He’ll be expelled from the community of returned exiles. The survival of our people is at stake—just as it was after Haman’s decree.”
A man named Meshullam, who had argued with Ezra earlier that day, stepped forward to speak again. “Rebbe Ezra, it’s winter. This proclamation presents a hardship for our people.”
“I’ve traveled the length and breadth of our country,” Ezra said. “No one is more than fifty miles from Jerusalem. Three days provides plenty of time.”
“Why not assemble only the men who are involved?” Meshullam asked.
“Because we’re accountable for one another and united in our collective guilt. Those who saw these mixed marriages and didn’t protest are just as guilty as the men who married foreign wives. I don’t think you realize how serious this is. Intermarriage will destroy us as a people.”
“We are one!” someone shouted from the crowd.
“Draw up the proclamation,” Ezra told Yonah and Shecaniah. “I’ll sign it.”
As the men dispersed, Ezra looked around for Reuben but didn’t see him. The magnitude of this crisis and what it meant for his people’s survival so overwhelmed Ezra that he sent word home to Devorah that he’d be spending the night here at the temple, fasting and praying. Ezra refused all offers of food and water as he continued to mourn, remembering how Moses had done the same thing after Israel sinned with the golden calf. Once again, the threat of divine judgment seemed to hover over his people because of their unfaithfulness. And although Ezra grieved, the community’s quick and decisive action gave him hope. It remained to be seen how the entire province would respond.
He thought again of Reuben, how frightened and devastated he had looked, and Ezra dropped to his knees before God. Covering his face with his hands, Ezra prayed for Reuben to have the strength to do the right thing and divorce his Edomite wife.
Chapter
52
JERUSALEM
I don’t think you should wait up for your father any longer,” Devorah told her sons. She had put their daughters to bed a few hours ago and had nearly fallen asleep alongside them, but the twins had asked to wait up for Ezra. He sent word home last night not to expect him, but she hadn’t heard from him tonight.
“When do you think Abba will come home?” Judah asked.
“I don’t know. This is a very difficult time for him, as you can imagine. All Jerusalem is in an uproar.”
“We saw the men taking the oath yesterday at the evening sacrifice,” Shallum said. “Not everyone seemed happy about it.”
“Even so, your father will do what the Torah says.”
“But why is he staying at the temple? Why doesn’t he come home?”
Devorah thought she knew why. He needed to listen to God, not to criticism and political maneuvering. He hadn’t been to his council chamber next door for two days, but the noise of the disturbance among the elders had spilled over into her private living quarters. She was glad Ezra wasn’t there to hear it. She’d repeatedly told the elders he wasn’t home and had finally instructed the servants to answer the door in her place and send everyone away.
“He needs time to pray, Shallum. I don’t think he’s coming home tonight, either, so you’d better go to bed now or you’ll be too tired for school tomorrow.”
Devorah was preparing for bed herself after they had fallen asleep when Ezra finally dragged home in the dark. She met him with an embrace, and he held her tightly in return. She felt his sigh as clearly as she heard it.
“You must be hungry. Can I get you something to eat?”
“I don’t know. . . . Have you heard what’s been going on, Devorah? Have you been up to the temple?”
“Yes. I was at the evening sacrifice yesterday. The entire city is talking about it. This must be quite an ordeal for you.” She watched him remove his sandals and sink onto the cushions in their living area. He looked bone-weary, with dark circles beneath his eyes. His hair and beard seemed to have turned even whiter than before. Was it possible in only two days? She started toward the storeroom to get him something to eat and ran into one of their servants. Devorah was still unused to having them around. “Will you fetch the governor something to eat, please? Thank you.” She knelt beside Ezra to rub his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles.
“Devorah . . . I need to ask you something,” he said quietly.
“Yes?”
“Why didn’t you tell me Reuben’s new wife was an Edomite?”
She stopped massaging. “What are you talking about? Amina is Jewish!”
“If she told you that, then she lied to you.”
“She did no such thing! We celebrated Shabbat together, and she knew the rituals and songs better than Reuben did. I just assumed . . .”
“Neither of them mentioned that she was a Gentile?”
“No. Are you certain it’s true, Ezra? I think you must be mistaken.”
“I’m not. The elders who brought the issue of mixed marriages to my attention told me Reuben had married an Edomite woman. So I asked Joshua ben Zechariah, one of the priests she used to live with here in Jerusalem, and he confirmed it was true. The woman is an Edomite from a village outside of Bethlehem.”
“The woman has a name, Ezra—it’s Amina.”
The servant entered with a tray of food and set it on the low table in front of Ezra’s cushion. “Thank you,” he mumbled, though he appeared too weary to lean forward and eat it. When the servant was gone, he said, “They never should have allowed Reuben to marry her. Now he’s embroiled in this whole mess, and his future is at risk.”
“But they did marry. They love each other. We were invited to their wedding feast, but you were away. Look, I know Moses forbade mixed marriages when our ancestors conquered the Promised Land, but what about afterward? Ruth was a foreign woman, wasn’t she? A Moabite? And what about all the prophecies saying the Gentiles will worship the Holy One with us one day?”
He leaned forward and picked up a piece of bread. “I can’t find any place in the Torah reversing God’s original ruling on mixed marriages.”
Devorah’s frustration grew as she remembered how happy Reuben and Amina had been. “So Ruth’s marriage to Boaz should have been dissolved? Is that what you would have advised if you lived back then? Should the entire line of King David descended from Ruth be sent away as ‘unclean’ Gentiles, like the children of mixed marriages?”
“I can’t answer that. It isn’t the question that’s before me. Foreign wives lead to idolatry. Even King Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived, ended up worshiping idols because of his foreign wives, remember?”
“What will happen to Reuben and Amina?”
“You were there at the temple. The people swore an oath before God saying anyone involved in a mixed marriage must put away his foreign wife and children. Reuben will have to comply. He will have to divorce her.”
“Oh no . . .” Devorah felt sick at the thought. She watched Ezra swallow a few bites of food and wondered if his own hatred toward Gentiles influenced his decision. “And if these men don’t divorce their wives?” she asked. “Will they be subject to ‘banishment, imprisonment, death,’ and all those other terrible things in the Persian king’s decree?”
Ezra nodded. “Reuben won’t be allowed to serve in the temple. His children won’t be considered Jewish. The community will banish him.”
“Where will he live? What will he do?” Ezra shrugged in reply, multiplying Devorah’s frustration. “Listen, I care about Reuben. I can’t imagine what he’s going through. Nor can I imagine being asked to make a choice like this. You didn’t see how much he and Amina love each other.”
Ezra set down the bowl again. “The Torah forbids intermarriage. I can’t change the law. And when we disobey God’s law, it always causes pain in the long run. Reuben will suffer if he disobeys. I’ll suffer if I disobey.”
“Isn’t there any room for God’s grace? For His mercy? You showed Reuben grace once before, and it led him to God. Can’t grace heal our community this time, too? Suppose the law made you divorce me and give up our children?”
“But you aren’t a Gentile. You and I wouldn’t have married a pagan spouse to begin with, any more than we would have married a dog. I’ve been appointed our nation’s leader, and it’s my job to enforce the law. That’s my mandate, Devorah. I can’t change what the law says, nor can I show favoritism to Reuben and look the other way, no matter how fond I am of him. He married a Gentile. Whether he knew that’s what she was beforehand or not, I don’t know. But now he must obey the law. Intermarriage is just as deadly to our people as Haman’s decree.”
“Every time you say the word Gentile I can hear the hatred in your voice. God doesn’t hate them, you know. And neither do I.”
“How can you say that? They tried to destroy our people. They would have killed every Jewish man, woman, and child. They killed Jude, remember?”
“Of course I remember. But I also remember that God promised Abraham all the nations on earth would be blessed through his offspring—through us! If you really want to understand God, then you need to understand that He loves the Gentiles, too.”
“Devorah, I’m already facing opposition over this—men who don’t want to live by the Torah’s laws and who resent my leadership. Please don’t fight with me at home, too.”
For a moment, his words stunned her. Ezra promised before they married to share everything with her. She should be free to discuss this with him, giving her opinion on the matter. But maybe tonight wasn’t the best time to remind him of his promise. He had come to her for solace and a respite from the heavy burden he carried.