Song of Redemption Page 6

  "If you renew Judah's covenant with God," Zechariah said, "then God's part of that covenant requires Him to deliver us from all our enemies"

  "Then you favor rebellion?" Hezekiah asked.

  "I favor obedience to the Word of God, which says, `Do not place a foreigner over you."'

  Hezekiah exhaled. "I think I'm a long way from your level of faith. Assyria is the most powerful empire on earth. Maybe if we joined a military alliance with some of our neighboring nations we could rebel, but-"

  "No:' Zechariah said firmly. "There are no alliances in God's plan, especially not with Egypt. Read the next part."

  "'The king, moreover, must not acquire great numbers of horses for himself or make the people return to Egypt to get more of them, for the Lord has told you, "You are not to go back that way again." " ' "

  "Alliances with other nations lead to bondage," Zechariah explained. "Joseph started out as Pharaoh's trusted advisor in Egypt, but later generations ended up as slaves. And wasn't it Ahaz's so-called alliance with Assyria that led to our present slavery?"

  "Yes, but aren't alliances with other nations necessary? Times have changed since this law was written"

  "No. Yahweh's Word will still be valid one thousand years from now You don't need to trust in the fickleness of other nations. Put your trust in God"

  Hezekiah knew that his faith wasn't very strong. Yahweh had saved him from Molech, but would that knowledge be enough if the powerful Assyrian armies marched against his tiny nation? "I'll be honest," he said. "This is too new for me. I've been taught to rely on the facts and on my own judgment and-"

  "Then rely on your judgment and forget all this." Zechariah scooped up the scroll with a sweep of his hand. "But don't try to do both. It won't work. Either your faith in God is absolute, or it's worthless. There's no way to compromise."

  Their eyes met and held. Then a slight smile flickered across Hezekiah's face. "I have a lot to learn, don't I? Come on-teach me" He unrolled the scroll again and found his place. "'He must not take many wives, or his heart will be led astray."' Hezekiah looked up in surprise. "But kings always have harems full of wives."

  "That's because kings don't always follow the laws of the Torah."

  "What do wives have to do with anything?"

  "King Solomon had seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines, and they led him to compromise his faith in God."

  "Wait a minute," Hezekiah said. "I thought kings were supposed to have large harems to make sure they produce an heir to the throne."

  "God promised that there would always be an heir of David reigning on his throne. Does God need the help of a hundred women to fulfill that promise?"

  Hezekiah smiled. "No, I guess He needs only one."

  "Marriage is a sacred covenant, much like Israel's covenant with God. Our affections must stay pure toward one wife, just as Israel's affections toward God must remain pure, not lusting after other gods. Do you have many concubines?"

  "A few, and I'm not sure I want to get rid of-"

  "How many wives?"

  "Only one-her name is Hephzibah."

  "Good. Do you love her?"

  Hezekiah leaned back in his seat. "No. I hardly know her. My father arranged the marriage as a political payback. I've always thought of her as a present from Ahaz, so I guess I never showed much interest in her. I want to choose my own wife now that I'm king."

  "Does Hephzibah love Yahweh, or does she practice idolatry?"

  Hezekiah frowned. "I don't know what she believes. Why?"

  "If you decide to be faithful to one wife, as the Torah commands, then Hephzibah would be the mother of your heir."

  "I really don't know anything about her," he admitted. But the thought that he might be stuck with the wife that Ahaz chose for him made him uneasy.

  Hezekiah thought back to the day he married Hephzibah, and how young she had seemed. He remembered how she had trembled when he held her in his arms. He smiled to himself when he remembered her daring scheme to get a glimpse of him, fearing that he might resemble his father. Maybe he should give her another chance.

  "I guess it isn't her fault that she was a gift from Ahaz," he murmured.

  "It wasn't until after my beloved wife died that I realized she was my most cherished treasure. Hold your wife close to you, son. Confide in her. Listen to her. Sometimes women see things more clearly than we do. If you win her loyalty and her love, you'll be the happiest man alive. God gives us wives for more than offspring and physical pleasure. Ancient tradition says that Yahweh dwells amid married couples."

  Zechariah picked up a clay tablet and a writing tool. "You see, here's the word for man-and the word for woman. All the letters are the same except for these two. And if you put those two letters together, they form the name of God. If you share a love for each other and for God, His presence will dwell in your midst."

  Hezekiah still wasn't sure he wanted to dismiss all of his concubines, even if what Zechariah said was true. He turned back to Zechariah's scroll and continued to read. "'He must not accumulate large amounts of silver and gold.' Well, this won't be hard to obey," he said. "The royal treasuries are empty. I can only hope that this nation will prosper again someday."

  "It will, son, if you obey God. I promise you."

  "'When he takes the throne of his kingdom,"' Hezekiah read, "'he is to write for himself on a scroll a copy of this law ... it is to be with him, and he is to read it all the days of his life so that he may learn to revere the Lord his God.... Then he and his descendants will reign a long time over his kingdom in

  Zechariah stopped him again. "Yahweh knows that a king's three biggest temptations are power, pride, and pleasure," he said. "When we begin reading the history of your forefathers, you'll see how often one of these three contributed to their downfall. Yahweh requires you to write the words of His Law yourself so that you can study them. The king must have no doubt about what God demands of him."

  "Will you come every day and teach it to me as I copy it?"

  "Yes, I'll get you started. And there is a promise in this passage of Scripture-'Then he and his descendants will reign a long time"'

  "My father and his father both died relatively young."

  "That's no coincidence, son. It was Yahweh's blessing that Ahaz died before he completely destroyed this country"

  "Sometimes I wonder if it isn't too late already," Hezekiah said. "Rabbi Isaiah doesn't seem to think that the men of Judah will repent and turn back to God. And it all depends on the people, doesn't it? I mean, I can do only so much as king, and if the people don't respond, if they continue in their idolatry-" He stopped, remembering Isaiah's vision of ruined cities and a desolate land.

  "God has set before them life and death," Zechariah said. "We can only pray that they choose life."

  Hezekiah noticed that the room had gradually grown darker in the last few minutes as the sun dropped below the western ridge of mountains. He could barely see to read the scroll. "Shall I call a servant to light the lamps?" he asked.

  "No, it's time for prayers." Zechariah rolled up the scroll, then stood and covered his head with his prayer shawl. Hezekiah did the same. But before Zechariah closed his eyes to recite, he gave Hezekiah a somber, penetrating look. "When it comes to obeying the Law, you can't pick and choose. If you decide to obey His Word, you must obey all of it."

  Hezekiah nodded and closed his eyes. But as soon as Zechariah began to recite, Hezekiah knew by the psalm that his grandfather had chosen that they were back where they had started: Zechariah still disagreed with the decision to appoint Shebna.

  "'Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night."'

  That evening, drawn by curiosity, Hezekiah decided to visit Hephzibah. The realization that he knew nothing about her-and that he had ignored her since the week of their wedding-disconcerted him. He won
dered how she would react to his sudden appearance after so much time. But when he saw Hephzibah again, he was the one who was astounded. She was a strikingly beautiful woman.

  Hephzibah was dressed in white linen and adorned like a queen with golden earrings and bracelets. The fragrance of fine perfume and bath oil filled the room. Hephzibah's long dark hair hung loose down her back in thick curls, and it looked so luxurious that he had an overwhelming urge to bury his hands in its softness.

  Hephzibah gazed at him in astonishment when she first saw him standing in her doorway. He saw surprise in her eyes and many unspoken questions, but she quickly recovered and bowed low.

  "Welcome, Your Majesty. Come in. Shall my servants bring you some refreshments?" Her voice shook, and she kept her head lowered as if awed by his presence.

  "No, that's not necessary. You may dismiss them." Before Hephzibah could say a word, the servants all disappeared. "You look lovely," he told her. "Your dress ... your perfume ..." He couldn't take his eyes off her. Was this incredible stranger really his wife?

  "Thank you," she murmured. "Everything is for you."

  "But ... but how did you know that I was coming tonight?"

  "I didn't."

  "You mean you go through this every night? Just in case?"

  "Yes, my lord."

  For a moment Hezekiah glimpsed the absurdity of her situation, the hours of preparation and waiting just to cater to his whims. He suddenly felt awkward with her, as if it was their first time together. The discovery that such a beautiful woman had been waiting in vain for him every night stunned him.

  She was small and delicate, the top of her head barely reaching his chin, and her skin was a golden, tawny color that matched the high lights in her hair. Her deep brown eyes were flecked with gold and fringed with thick dark lashes that brushed against her cheeks as she stood before him. She seemed so young to him, with a vulnerability that made him want to shelter and protect her. She was his wife, yet the only thing he knew about her was her name. He took her hand and led her to a cushioned couch, then sat facing her. Her hand felt icy, and he cupped it between his own.

  "How old are you, Hephzibah?" he asked, trying to shake the disturbing awkwardness he felt.

  "Nearly twenty, Your Majesty."

  He reached out to hold her other hand. It was icy, as well. "Is it too cold in here? You're shaking. Shall I have the servants light a fire?"

  "No, Your Majesty. Thank you ... I'm fine."

  He should have warned her that he was coming. She seemed nervous, and he wondered if that was what made it so difficult for him to relax with her. He raised her chin to make her look at him, and when their eyes met he was startled to read in them the depth of her love, a love he knew he didn't return. And he also realized that she wasn't shaking from cold, but from fear.

  "Hephzibah, why are you afraid? Is it because I'm the king now?"

  "Yes ... a little." Her voice was barely a whisper.

  "And why else? You can tell me."

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  Hezekiah guessed that he was probably to blame but he couldn't imagine what he had done to make her cry. Nor did he know how to make her stop. "Have I made you unhappy somehow?"

  "No, my lord! I'm the one who hasn't pleased you!"

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Because you never come to see me like all the others."

  "Is that what you think?" Hezekiah was horrified to learn that she had interpreted his lack of interest as her own fault. "It's not that way at all, Hephzibah."

  She looked down at her hands, still in his, and her tears continued to fall. "And I've failed to give you an heir."

  Hezekiah sighed in frustration and let her hands drop. He felt angry with himself and guilty for allowing his hatred for Ahaz to hurt this beautiful woman. He wanted to make things right with her, but he didn't know where to begin. He stroked his beard, trying to think, and remembered Zechariah's words: "Yahweh dwells amid married couples."

  He placed his hands on Hephzibah's shoulders. "Listen-I know we haven't gotten our marriage off to a very good start, but it hasn't been your fault. You've never done anything to displease me. Maybe we should start over again. Do you think we could give each other another chance?"

  "Oh yes! I want that with all my heart!" She gazed up at him with a mixture of hope and joy, and once again her deep love for him shone clearly in her eyes. He pulled her into his arms and felt her tears, warm and wet on his chest, as she clung to him with surprising strength.

  "I want our marriage to be happy," he said. "I want to know all about you. After all, you'll be the mother of my heir."

  She lifted her head and stared up at him. "But suppose one of your concubines has a son first?"

  Again, he thought of Zechariah's words: "When it comes to obeying the Law, you can't pick and choose." The Torah instructed him to be faithful to one wife, and if he had to decide between Hephzibah and one of his concubines, there was no contest. None of the others could match her elegance and grace-or her astonishing beauty.

  He took a deep breath. "It won't happen. From now on I'll have only one wife, as the Torah commands."

  She stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

  "It's true. You'll be my only wife."

  Hephzibah gave a cry of joy and threw herself into his arms, clinging to him as if she would never let go. He had surprised himself, as well. He certainly hadn't made this decision ahead of time. And as he held Hephzibah close and stroked her soft, fragrant hair, he was equally surprised to discover that he no longer cared about the rest of his harem. How could he have forgotten how beautiful Hephzibah was?

  "I know that in time we'll have a son," he said, "maybe by this time next year. But there's really no hurry. I plan to live a long time, so I won't be needing an heir right away."

  She looked up at him, smiling through her tears, and Hezekiah was overcome again by her loveliness. "I will give you an heir-I promise! If I bring regular offerings to Asherah, she-"

  "Oh no:' Hezekiah groaned. Hephzibah worshiped idols. He released her from his arms.

  "What's wrong?" she asked.

  Hezekiah saw the look of horror on her face as she realized she had lost him again, and in spite of the revulsion he felt toward her idolatry, Hezekiah couldn't bear to hurt her. He studied her delicate face for a moment, the perfect slope of her nose, the slant of her eyes, the flush of her smooth, tawny skin.

  "Do you believe in Yahweh, Hephzibah?" he asked.

  "Yes; my family taught me to offer sacrifices to him."

  "Other gods, too?"

  "Which ones?"

  "The lord Baal ... the goddess Asherah ..."

  "And Molech?" He felt his stomach turn.

  "No, my lord. Not Molech."

  Hezekiah sighed. Once again he remembered that Hephzibah had been a gift from Ahaz, and her idolatry didn't surprise him. He knew he was free to divorce a wife who worshiped idols and to choose his own wife, but he was amazed to realize that he didn't want to. Maybe it was because he recognized her deep love for him. Or maybe because she was so very beautiful. Hezekiah didn't fully understand why, but he knew he wanted to give Hephzibah another chance. He felt irresistibly drawn to her, like the proverbial moth to the flame.

  "There is only one God," he said gently. "Yahweh. He is the only God we will ever worship in this nation and in this household as long as I am king. The others are only wood and stone. If you want to remain married to me, you must give up Baal and Asherah and worship only Him." He wondered if he was asking for too much too soon.

  "I will do anything for you," she said, and again he saw the love in her eyes. He believed her.

  Hezekiah wondered what would happen if he opened his heart to her in love. He hadn't really loved any of his concubines. "Confide in her. Listen to her. Win her loyalty and her love, and you'll be the happiest man alive," Zechariah had assured him. But how would he begin to build a life with her? Hezekiah didn't even know her. He gazed around the roo
m, searching for a place to start, and spotted a small lyre.

  "Is that little harp yours, Hephzibah? Can you play it?"

  "Yes" Her smile was both shy and radiant.

  "Would you play a song for me? I love music, but I don't play an instrument myself. My grandfather is a Levite singer, and of course my ancestor David was a musician, but I didn't inherit any of their talent."

  "Shall I sing for you, too?"

  "Yes, I'd like that." He watched as she picked up the lyre and began strumming it softly. He could tell by the way her delicate fingers caressed the strings that she was an accomplished player. But when she began to sing, her voice was the most beautiful sound Hezekiah had ever heard. It flowed so sweetly and effortlessly that she made singing seem easy. He sat entranced, feeling the tension and strain of his day melt away. He was sorry when the song ended.

  He sat in silence for several moments, enjoying her beauty, basking in it. Then he said, "Please ... sing another one."

  She smiled. "All right. I'll play one that was written by another ancestor of yours." She strummed a few bars of a haunting melody, then began to sing.

  "'Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth-for your love is more delightful than wine.... Take me away with you-let us hurry! Let the king bring me into his chambers.... Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me."'

  When she finished, Hezekiah gently took the lyre from her hands and gathered her into his arms.

  KING HEZEKIAH LEANED BACK on his throne as another long day of listening to petitions drew to a close. "Are we finished for today, Joah?" he asked the court scribe.

  "Almost, Your Majesty. A delegation of priests and Levites from the Temple requests an audience with you."

  "Good. Send them in." He turned to Shebna, seated by his right hand. "I've asked them to report their progress in purifying the Temple. Let's hope it's good news for a change."