Keepers of the Covenant by Lynn Austin Page B

day,” he’d told them, “although we’re seldom aware of it until we find ourselves facing danger. He knows the number of days written for each of us in His book. And so, whether we live or die in the coming hours, we can trust Him completely—because He is worthy of our trust. As Joshua prepared to fight the Gentile armies in Jericho, God told him, ‘Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you.’”
    Then Ezra led the community in prayer one last time, begging for God’s mercy for the coming day. “Not because we deserve it,” he’d prayed, “but for your name’s sake, for your glory. Let not our enemies triumph over us.” And Ezra had continued to pray silently throughout the day as he’d helped construct barricades and secure their defenses and distribute weapons. He’d learned the difference, these past months, between talking about God with his students and colleagues in the yeshiva, and talking with the Almighty One, alone, on his face in prayer. If he survived the coming night and day, Ezra knew he could never go back to the way he’d approached prayer or Scripture in the past. The Torah would be a radically different book. Prayer would be intimate and sacred.
    “It will be your responsibility to lead the evening prayers tonight,” he had told the young yeshiva students earlier today, the boys too young to fight. “It will be the most important job you’ll ever have.” They would be praying right now. The sky was already darker in the east, an indigo curtain falling closed as if the disappearing sun were a weight that yanked it shut. Before long, the first stars would poke through the curtain’s folds.
    “Good evening, Rebbe Ezra.” His young Torah student, Shimon, hurried over to greet him when he arrived at the barricade. The sword looked awkward and out of place in the young man’s hand. “May the Almighty One be with you this night.”
    “And also with you, Shimon.” He saw apprehension in Shimon’s eyes and pale face, and fought the urge to send him back to his books and his studies, away from the shadow of death. But he also saw his young student’s determination. Like their forefathers under Joshua’s command, he and the others were no longer individuals but the people of God, fighting together.
    Earlier today, the men had blocked all the lanes leading into the Jewish community. Ezra and the others would defend those entrances while the women and children took refuge in the house of assembly. The arguments over that decision had been fierce. “Our families will become easy prey if they’re all grouped in one place,” some had insisted. “Why not hide them throughout the community, so at least a few might survive?”
    Others had disagreed, arguing that it would be easier to protect the women and children if they were all in one place. “That way, if we’re forced to retreat we can form our last ring of defense around the house of assembly, guarding the women and children.” And the Torah scrolls. Shimon had helped Ezra wrap them in cloth and bury them in leather-bound boxes beneath the floor of the yeshiva in case their enemies set the building on fire.
    Another group of men had wanted to make a suicide pact in case the enemy broke through and all was lost. “Let’s agree to kill the women and children and then ourselves,” they’d said, “rather than allow our enemies to slaughter us and rape our women.”
    The arguing parties were unable to reach a consensus and had turned to Ezra to make the final decision. “I’m not an expert in military strategy and defensive tactics,” he’d said, “but I do know how to pray.” He’d become quite skilled at praying in the dwindling weeks—and so he’d turned to the Holy One before deciding. “The women and children will take shelter inthe house of assembly. But let’s not talk of suicide or rape or defeat. ‘God is our refuge and strength, an