Return to Me (39 page)

F
rom his foreman’s shelter on the temple mount, Iddo watched a team of workers raise a huge building block with the crane, the ropes creaking and groaning beneath the strain. It twisted in the air for a moment before the men steadied it and lowered it into place on the wall of the sanctuary. The satisfaction Iddo felt was as enormous as the block. Across the valley on the Mount of Olives, clouds of white almond blossoms sprouted on the trees, announcing that winter would soon yield to spring. The days would grow warmer and longer, providing more hours of daylight in which Iddo and his teams could work. Fields of barley and flax ripened in the distant fields thanks to the plentiful winter rains, signaling God’s grace and goodness, His pleasure in their obedience.

Iddo was about to turn back to his lists of supplies and expenditures when he saw Zechariah striding across the courtyard toward him. “If you’re coming to inspect our progress,” Iddo said, smiling, “we just laid another stone in place.” He pointed to where the workers maneuvered the limestone block.

Zaki shook his head, his expression serious. “That’s not why I’m here. Prince Zerubbabel received a dispatch from Samaria this morning. It’s a copy of the letter Governor Tattenai sent
to the Persian emperor about us. I thought you might want to come with me and hear what it says.”

Iddo slowly rose to his feet. “Tattenai certainly didn’t waste any time sending his report, did he?”

“No. As the proverb says of evildoers, ‘their feet rush into sin.’” Zaki took Iddo’s arm as they walked across the plaza, then descended the stairs from the mount. It frustrated Iddo to have grown so frail and in need of an arm to cling to for balance. He could accomplish so much more if he were as young and fit as his grandson.

“I’m sure it will take a few months for Tattenai’s message to get to the emperor,” Zaki said as they paused at the bottom of the steps to rest. “Then a few more months to receive his reply. How much progress do you think we can make during that time?”

Iddo wasn’t optimistic. “Even if it takes a year to hear back from the Persians, that still won’t give us enough time to finish. My best guess is that it will take three or four years to complete the entire temple.”

They walked the short distance to the throne room in the governor’s residence where Zerubbabel conducted business. The high priest and most of the chief priests and elders had crowded into the long, narrow hall already. Zechariah found a place for them to stand alongside one of the support pillars. “In the end, it won’t matter what Tattenai’s letter contains,” Iddo said. “I’m going to continue building no matter what.”

Zerubbabel stood to quiet the men. “As you’ve heard, this morning I received a copy of the letter that Governor Tattanai sent to King Darius. When I finish reading it to you, we can consider what our response, if any, should be.” The prince unrolled the letter and began to read.

“To King Darius:

Cordial Greetings.

The king should know that we went to the district of Judah, to the temple of the great God. The people are building it with large stones and placing timbers in the walls. The work is being carried on with diligence and is making rapid progress under their direction.”

Iddo leaned close to whisper to Zechariah. “I consider that a high compliment.”

“We questioned the elders and asked them, ‘Who authorized you to rebuild this temple and restore this structure?’ We also asked them their names, so that we could compile a list of their leaders for your information. This is the answer they gave us . . .”

Zerubbabel looked up from the letter and said, “Tattenai gives a fairly accurate account of our reply, saying that we’re building this temple for our God and that we have authorization from King Cyrus. The letter continues:

“Now if it pleases the king, let a search be made of the royal archives of Babylon to see if King Cyrus did in fact issue a decree to rebuild this house of God in Jerusalem. Then let the king send us his decision in this matter.”

“Good,” Iddo said, loudly enough for those around him to hear. “If they search, they’ll find the proclamation. And he’ll also see that exiles from other nations were allowed to return and rebuild, not just us.”

“Are there any questions?” the prince asked as he rolled up the scroll again.

The captain of the temple guards asked to speak first. “What if the Samaritan governor sends soldiers to force us to stop? We don’t have the manpower or the strength to fight them.”

“True,” Zerubbabel replied. “And you can be sure they noted
our lack of defenses when they came to inspect the building project. But for now, the province of Judah is still my territory, and the Samaritan governor has no right to send troops unless the Persian emperor orders him to.”

Iddo lifted his hand to be recognized. “We should not—we
will
not—stop building while we wait for the emperor’s reply.”

“My concern is also for your safety, Prince Zerubbabel,” the captain continued. “As the legitimate heir to the throne, you could be executed or carried back into exile if your actions are seen as rebellious.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m trusting the Almighty One’s promise that David’s throne will endure forever.”

“Have there been any reports of trouble with our Samaritan neighbors?” someone else asked.

“Dozens of them, just like before. They’re waging a war of terrorism, using fear as a weapon. I’ve asked for volunteers to guard the temple mount again. But I believe that the Almighty One has commanded us to build, and we need to fear Him more than our neighbors.”

Iddo returned to the temple mount after the meeting, but work ended an hour early that afternoon so the workers would have time to prepare for the Sabbath. He arrived home to find Dinah, Yael, and Hodaya scurrying around as they put the finishing touches on the Sabbath meal. But Dinah pulled Iddo aside for a moment, still holding a loaf of fresh bread in her hands. “We heard about the letter from the Samaritan governor,” she said. “Some of the women are afraid there will be trouble again.”

“Our cisterns are full from all the rain, aren’t they?” he asked.

“Yes. Thankfully we won’t need to go to the spring for water, but—”

“Let’s eat in peace, Dinah. I’ve prepared something to say to everyone at the end of our meal.” Iddo had thought about Tattenai’s letter all afternoon. His family’s safety was his
responsibility, yet he knew he was helpless to protect them. Over and over, he had prayed to let go of his worry and fear and to trust their safety to God’s hands—a prayer he would likely pray for the rest of his life.

They broke bread, sipped wine, and feasted by lamplight. Singing the traditional songs of his ancestors filled Iddo with hope and courage. Afterward, the children quieted to hear him talk about the weekly Torah portion, his custom on Shabbat. “Our portion this week is very fitting for this time in our nation’s life,” he told them. “In this passage, the Holy One has brought Moses and our ancestors out of Egypt, just as He brought us out of Babylon. Then the Holy One says, ‘Then have them make a sanctuary for me, and I will dwell among them.’ He revealed to them exactly how to build this sanctuary and the people obeyed, freely offering their treasures of gold and silver and precious stones, fine linen and wood and spices. Today we’re again obeying the Lord’s command to build His sanctuary, even as our enemies try to stop us. Tonight I want to ask each of you: Do you trust God? Are you willing to obey Him, no matter the cost? Because this time the Holy One’s dwelling place may cost not only our gold and silver but our lives, as it did with Shoshanna. Will you offer up your fear and let Him replace it with faith?”

Dinah replied first. She sat beside Iddo, holding a very sleepy Sarah in her lap. “When the Holy One asked me to sacrifice my family and leave them behind in Babylon, I admit I wasn’t willing. But that’s because I didn’t understand why we had to come here. Now I do, Iddo. We would have become just like all the other nations if we had stayed in Babylon. I’m willing to obey now. And I won’t let fear stop me.”

“I agree with Safta,” Yael said. She held the baby against her shoulder, gently rubbing his back. “I used to study the stars because I wanted to know the future, while all that time, the Holy One was leading us into our future. The prophets said
He would restore our people, and here we are in our land. He said we would be as numerous as the stars, and He has blessed Zaki and me with three children. I know that God is with us, not with our enemies, and so I’m not afraid, either. That’s why we named our son Joshua, because the Lord saves.”

“What about you, Hodaya?” Iddo asked. She looked away, and he saw her eyes fill with tears. “Are you afraid? There’s no shame in admitting it if you are.”

“It’s not that,” she said, shaking her head. Iddo waited until she finally looked up at him again. “Yael told me about my real parents. I know I’m not Jewish. I know I’m a Samaritan, which means I’m one of your enemies. I’m not allowed to help you build the temple.”

Yael handed the baby to Zechariah and tried to pull Hodaya into her arms. “You aren’t our enemy! You’re one of us! Tell her, Zaki. I can’t explain it to her the right way.”

“I know the story from the Torah,” Hodaya said, pushing Yael away. “When Israel came into this land after leaving Egypt, the Holy One told them to kill every man, woman, and child. He said not to marry anyone who wasn’t Jewish.”

“This is my fault,” Yael said. “I didn’t explain it to her very well. I’m so sorry.”

“Hodaya, look at me,” Iddo said. He waited until she did. “The Holy One told us to totally destroy those nations for the same reason that Jerusalem was destroyed and the Jewish people taken into exile—because we had all become corrupt, worshiping false gods, doing immoral things, sacrificing our children to idols. But it has always been the Holy One’s plan to bless all the people on earth through our nation. He made that promise to Abraham and repeated it to Isaac and Jacob. In the past, I didn’t want to see that prophecy fulfilled because I hated the Babylonians for what they did to my family and to this city. But then you came into our lives, and the Holy One began to show
me how much He loves all people, not just the sons of Abraham. You became one of us, worshiping our God and obeying His Torah. And in the future, that’s what will happen with all the people on earth—they will all worship our God and obey Him.”

He paused, looking at Hodaya’s beautiful face in the flickering lamplight, realizing how much he had grown to love her as his daughter. “Are you listening, Hodaya? Do you understand what I’m saying? The reason we couldn’t let the Samaritans help us rebuild was because they still practiced a mixture of religions. But any Samaritan who turns wholeheartedly to God is always welcome to worship with us. You’re Jewish because you belong to us. But even if you weren’t ours, you would be welcome to worship with us and marry our sons because you serve our God.”

“Yes, Saba is right,” Zechariah said. He leaned close to Hodaya and took her hand. “The prophet Isaiah wrote that in the last days the mountain of the Lord’s temple will be established as chief among the mountains, and all nations will stream to it. He said that foreigners who serve and worship the Lord and keep His covenant will be accepted by Him, and His temple will be called a house of prayer for
all
nations.”

“That’s why we’re working so hard to finish it,” Iddo said. “And why our enemies want to stop us. They’re rebelling against God. But you, Hodaya—you are the firstfruits of God’s promise. His prophecies are being fulfilled in you.”

Hodaya looked around at all of them and smiled faintly as she wiped her tears. “So . . . does that mean . . . you’ll let me marry Aaron when his father asks you for my hand?”

“Yes!” Iddo said, laughing. “Yes, my dear girl. I’ll dance with joy at your wedding.”

“But not for another year or two,” Dinah added with a worried look. “You’re still much too young.”

Everyone at the table laughed, and Hodaya’s face was flushed with happiness.

T
hat night Zechariah’s son awakened him from a restless sleep, crying to be fed. “Stay in bed,” he told Yael, who snuggled beneath the covers on this cold, late-winter night. “I’ll fetch him for you.” The stone floor felt icy beneath his feet, the room chilly as he lifted Joshua from his basket and laid him beside Yael. But instead of returning to bed, Zechariah put on his outer robe and slipped his sandals onto his feet. He felt wide awake for some reason, even though dawn was still a long way off, judging by the lightless sky outside his window.

A multitude of thoughts had tumbled through his mind all day, everything from the letter that Governor Tattenai had sent to the Persians, to Hodaya’s concerns about God’s love for the Gentiles. He would pray about all of these things, he decided. And rather than pace the floor of his room and keep Yael from sleeping, he closed the door behind him and tiptoed outside to the courtyard.

And there stood a man.

Zechariah backed up a step, startled, remembering the night that Rafi had come. But without moving or saying a word, the man conveyed peace to Zechariah as if he had poured it from a pitcher, saturating him with it. Zaki walked slowly toward him,
his legs a little shaky. And as he stepped into the open courtyard and glanced around, it was as if a curtain had been drawn back and instead of seeing the houses and streets of his neighborhood, Zechariah stood in a ravine among myrtle trees. He saw a man riding a red horse, and behind him were red, brown, and white horses. He knew he wasn’t dreaming because he could feel the stone floor beneath his sandals, the night breeze ruffling his hair. But the vision in front of him was as real and vivid as the cobblestones. He heard the pounding hooves of the horses, smelled their scent. The wind rustling his hair rustled the leaves of the myrtle trees, as well.

He turned to the man in the courtyard and knew he was an angel without knowing how or why. Zechariah gestured to the horses and asked in a hushed voice, “What are these, my lord?”

“The Lord has sent these to go throughout the earth.” The power of God filled the angel’s voice, and Zechariah’s entire body resonated in tune with it the same way his body vibrated when he blew the silver trumpet. “I asked the Almighty One how long He would withhold mercy from Jerusalem and the towns of Judah,” the angel continued, “and He said, ‘I will return to Jerusalem with mercy, and there my house will be rebuilt. My towns will again overflow with prosperity, and the Lord will again comfort Zion and choose Jerusalem.’”

Zechariah’s heart raced with excitement. He wanted to run into his grandfather’s room and awaken him with this good news, but he heard a sudden noise above him and when he looked up, he saw four horns, emblems of political power and might. “What are these?” he asked the angel.

“These are the horns that scattered Judah, Israel, and Jerusalem so that no one could raise his head. But now the nations that destroyed you are about to be destroyed.”

Another sound got Zechariah’s attention, and when he looked in that direction the scene had changed. He saw a man with a
measuring line in his hand as if preparing to build. Zechariah felt a prickle of excitement, remembering all the building they had done when they’d first arrived, and how Jerusalem had risen from the ashes. He had learned to use a measuring line like the one this man held, and a plumb line to make sure the walls were straight. But then their enemies had brought the construction to a halt. “Where is that man going?” he asked the angel.

“To measure Jerusalem, to find out how wide and how long it is. Jerusalem will be a city without walls because of the great number of men and livestock in it. ‘And I myself will be a wall of fire around it,’ declares the Lord, ‘and I will be its glory within.’”

Did this mean that more exiles would be allowed to return? Zechariah was about to ask, but it was as if the angel had read his thoughts. “‘Come! Come! Flee from the land of the north,’” he shouted. “‘Escape, you who live in Babylon. I will surely raise my hand against the nations that have plundered you,’ declares the Lord, ‘for whoever touches you touches the apple of my eye.’”

Zechariah wanted to shout along with the angel at God’s comforting words, but the vision hadn’t ended. “‘Shout and be glad, O Daughter of Zion. For I am coming, and I will live among you,’ declares the Lord. ‘Many nations will be joined with the Lord in that day and will become my people. I will live among you and you will know that the Lord Almighty has sent me to you. Be still before the Lord, all mankind, because he has roused himself from his holy dwelling.’”

Zechariah sank down on the courtyard wall, overcome with emotion. He had left his home and his parents to seek the Lord’s presence, and now He was promising to live among them. Even more, as if in answer to Hodaya’s concerns, God promised that the people of many nations would become His, as well. Zechariah sat on the wall for a long moment, his eyes closed as he silently praised God.

When he opened them again, the angel beckoned to him.
“Come with me.” They walked only a few steps—and there was Jeshua, the high priest. Zechariah wanted to touch him to see if he was real, but the scene had changed to that of a courtroom. The Accuser stood at Jeshua’s right side as they stood before the angel of the Lord. Zechariah felt the cold chill of evil in the Accuser’s presence. “The Lord rebuke you, Satan!” the Lord’s angel said. “The Lord, who has chosen Jerusalem, rebuke you! Is not this man a burning stick snatched from the fire?”

The high priest wore filthy clothes as he stood before the angel and his fellow priests, robes that only the lowest beggar would wear. But the angel of the Lord ordered those standing near him to take off his filthy clothes. He said to Jeshua, “See, I have taken away your sin.” And as Zechariah watched, Jeshua was clothed in a clean white robe. A spotless turban was placed on his head. “This is what the Lord Almighty says,” the angel told Jeshua. “‘If you will walk in my ways and keep my requirements, then you will govern my house and have charge of my courts, and I will give you a place among these standing here. Listen, Jeshua and your associates—you are symbolic of things to come: I am going to bring my servant, the Branch. And I will remove the sin of this land in a single day.’”

Zechariah’s heart beat so rapidly he feared it might burst. The angel spoke of the promised Messiah, the seed of the woman who would crush the serpent’s head. Before Zechariah could react, the images faded into the night as if dissolving into a pool of dark water. When they had all disappeared, Zechariah stood in his familiar courtyard again, surrounded by the homes and streets of his neighborhood. It seemed as though days had passed, but the night sky was still black, the mountains to the east still cloaked in darkness. Exhausted, he sank down in the courtyard with his back against the wall and closed his eyes. The next thing he knew someone was shaking him. He looked up and saw the angel.

“What do you see?” the angel asked.

Zechariah scrambled to his feet. “I see a solid gold lampstand with a bowl and seven lights. And two olive trees, one on the right and one on the left of the lampstand.”

“This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel,” the angel said. “‘Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,’ says the Lord Almighty. ‘What are you, O mighty mountain? Before Zerubbabel you will become level ground. Then he will bring out the temple’s capstone to shouts of “God bless it!” The hands of Zerubbabel have laid the foundation of this temple and his hands will also complete it.’”

Zechariah could scarcely wait to see Saba’s joy when he told him this news. But the lampstand and olive trees still puzzled him. “What are these two olive branches?” he asked the angel.

“These are the two who are anointed to serve the Lord of all the earth.” The king and the high priest. God’s anointed servants.

Suddenly Zechariah heard a noise like flapping wings or rattling parchment, and when he looked up he saw a huge scroll, fifteen feet wide and thirty feet long, flying through the air above him. He recalled dreaming of this as a boy. “What is that?” he asked the angel.

“This is the curse that’s going out over the entire land. It will enter the house of every thief and everyone who swears falsely, and whatever they attempt to build will be destroyed, left with nothing but timbers and stones. Now look there, Zechariah.”

He looked where the angel pointed and nearly laughed out loud at what he saw. It was a measuring basket, and when the cover of lead was lifted, there sat the sorceress from Babylon who used to visit Yael’s house next door. She was dressed in black, and Zechariah heard the soft jingling of her bracelets and amulets. “This is wickedness,” the angel said as he pushed the lead cover back into place over the woman. Zechariah watched
in amazement as two women with wings like storks lifted the basket and flew away with it.

“Where are they taking her?” he asked.

“Back to Babylon where she belongs. God will remove wickedness from this land.”

Zechariah watched until the winged women were out of sight, and when he turned back to the angel, the scene had changed again. Four chariots rode out from between two mountains of bronze, each chariot pulled by a team of differently colored horses—red, black, white, and dappled. He could hear the horses snorting, their hooves thundering, the chariot wheels creaking and rumbling as they raced forward. “What are these, my lord?” he asked.

“These are the four spirits of heaven, going out from standing in the presence of the Lord, going throughout the earth. Look, those going toward the north country have given God’s Spirit rest in the land of the north.”

Once again, Zechariah felt the Holy One’s peace wash through him. This was a sign to him and to His people that whatever happened—today, tomorrow, or the next day—the Almighty One was in control, working for the good of His people and not for harm.

The sound of the chariots faded in the distance and once again the vision dissolved into blackness. Zechariah found a place to sit down, leaning against the courtyard wall so he could watch the sunrise above the Mount of Olives when it finally came. The next thing he knew, someone was calling his name, shaking him awake.

“Zechariah . . . Zechariah . . .” His grandfather, not an angel. A flesh-and-blood man, not a vision. “Are you all right?” Saba asked. “Why are you sleeping out here in the cold?”

Zechariah slowly pulled himself to his feet. “I wanted to pray, so I got up and came out here. But then . . .” He had no words
to describe what he’d seen last night but he knew he had to try. “The Holy One sent an angel who spoke with me, Saba. He showed me things in visions that were so real that I could smell them and touch them. I need to get parchment and some ink so I can write them down and tell everyone.” But Zechariah knew that God had etched the visions on his heart as if on stone. He would never forget what he’d seen and heard. He ran his hands through his hair as Saba stared at him in amazement.

“What you and I are doing here in Jerusalem is so much bigger than we can ever dream, Saba. I saw time pulled back like a curtain last night, and I glimpsed eternity. The things the angel showed me . . . it was like . . . like I could finally make sense of everything that’s happened to you and to me and to our people. And God reassured me that we
will
finish building His temple. Zerubbabel will lay the capstone himself. Our enemies can’t stop us. The Lord Almighty said, ‘Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit.’ I need to tell Jeshua and the others that the defilement of the past is gone—washed away! The Accuser of men has nothing to say to us now that the Holy One has cleansed us and forgiven us.”

“Praise God,” Saba murmured.

The women joined them in the courtyard as Zechariah spoke. He looked at his beautiful wife and smiled to himself when he recalled the vision of the Babylonian woman who had nearly enticed Yael away. Now the woman of wickedness was gone. Their land was being purified. He gestured to Hodaya to come to him and rested his hand on her shoulder. “The Lord promises that many nations will be joined with Him,” he told her. “They will become His people. You are His, Hodaya. You belong to Him.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“Zechariah?” Yael asked. “What . . . how . . . ?”

“The Holy One opened eternity and showed me visions to encourage us, Yael. We shouldn’t be disappointed if the work
we do seems small in our eyes. The future will be so much more than this temple we’re building. The Holy One is coming! He is coming and will live among us!”

It was all Zechariah could say. The enormity of it—
God with us
—took his breath away.