Song of Redemption by Lynn Austin Page B

twilight.’ ” He looked up. “Do you think this applies to our situation?”
    “Yes, I’m certain it does. Like us, these men weren’t consecrated according to the Law at the time of the feast. But Yahweh gave them a second chance during the second month.”
    “Then let’s do it! We’ll proclaim the fourteenth day of the second month as the Lord’s Passover this year. Do you think we can make all the necessary preparations by then?”
    “With a little hard work, I think we could.”
    Hezekiah couldn’t sit. “I’ll send couriers to every town with the announcement. And I’ll notify the northern tribes of Israel, too.”
    “Yes! The timing will be perfect! The religious calendar for the northern tribes is one month behind ours. If we celebrate a month later here, it will coincide exactly with Passover in Israel.”
    “Then it’s settled.” Hezekiah crossed to the open window again and looked down on the bustling city. “Jerusalem is the place God chose as the center of worship for all His people,” he said. “The local shrines and high places must be abandoned for good. Passover will be the beginning. I’m going to reawaken in my people a knowledge of our history—and of our God.”

    King Hezekiah’s courier rode steadily during the daylight hours, traveling out of the mountains into the rolling foothills of the Shephelah. So far he found that the response to the announcement that Passover would be celebrated had been mixed. In some towns the people greeted the news with joy; in others, with indifference.
    The day was just beginning to cool off as the courier reached Lachish, one of Judah’s largest cities. He headed up the ramp to the main gate, knowing that he would find the new city governor, Prince Gedaliah, seated there with the elders of Lachish, judging regional disputes and local squabbles. He slowed his horse to a walk to avoid creating a dust cloud around them. The governor was arguing loudly with a dark-haired man in peasant clothing, and several moments passed before the men even noticed the courier. But when he finally dismounted and the emblem of David became clearly visible on his horse’s banners, the discussion halted. The courier removed a document from the folds of his cloak and passed it to Gedaliah.
    “This is for you, my lord, from King Hezekiah.”
    Gedaliah frowned. “Now what does he want?” He began reading the notice aloud in a voice that seemed to mock the king’s words. “ ‘From King Hezekiah to all the men of Judah. Return to the Lord, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, that He may return to you who are left. Do not be like your fathers and brothers, who were unfaithful to the Lord so that he made them an object of horror, as you see …’ And so on. Let’s get to the point… . Ah, here it is: ‘Come, let us celebrate the feast of Passover together on the fourteenth day of the second month in Jerusalem. For on this day Yahweh brought our people out of Egypt… . ’ And so on. That’s about it.”
    “The king is going to celebrate Passover? In Jerusalem?” the darkhaired peasant asked in astonishment.
    “That’s what it says.” Gedaliah handed the parchment back to the courier, who rolled it up and tucked it inside his cloak. He was eager to move on to the next village. If he could reach Arad and Beersheba within the next few days, he could then head toward home once again. He walked to his horse and prepared to mount.
    Suddenly the peasant raised his arms to heaven and shouted, “Yahweh be praised!” His left arm didn’t go quite as high as his right, but twisted crookedly at an odd angle. “In the last days the mountain of the Lord’s temple will be established as chief among the mountains,” he shouted. “It will be raised above the hills, and all peoples will stream to it. Many nations will say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob. He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his