The servant arranged the evening meal on an ornately carved table as a young couple in fine clothes waited patiently nearby.

“King Josiah has invited people from all over Israel and Judah to attend the Passover,” said the man to his wife.  His voice was deep and pleasant to listen to.  “There will be thousands of visitors coming, Abigail – thousands! – and so now he wants to hear from anyone who is willing to welcome any of the visitors to stay in their home during the feast.”

“How long will the feast last?”

“As I understand it, the Passover itself is just one evening, but the Feast of Unleavened Bread which immediately follows it lasts for seven days.”

“Have you found out yet what the Feast of Unleavened Bread is all about?"

“Our house will need to be cleaned of leaven.  All of it must go, and for the whole length of the feast we are only allowed to eat things without any yeast in them.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard, although it will be different from what we are used to.”

“And how do we get the leaven back again afterwards, Abigail?  Normally when you make bread, you just keep some of the dough to mix with the next batch, don’t you?  What happens when we get rid of all the yeast from the house?”

“Oh, it’s not hard, Zaccai.  We just mix some flour and water and wait for a few days.  The leaven comes easily enough.”

“That’s good.  I think we’ll be learning a few new things with this feast.”

The meal had now been attractively laid out and the servant withdrew.  Zaccai and Abigail sat down and began to eat, still discussing the upcoming feast.  Although there were only two of them, the room in which they sat was large and spacious.  Zaccai was in his mid-twenties, quite tall, with a pleasant-looking face and a neat beard, while Abigail was a very attractive young woman a few years younger than he.  They had been married for five years already, but no children had yet come of their union.  It was a source of grief to both, and their new and growing love for the God of their fathers gave them somewhere to direct their requests for children.

Neither had known very much about Yahweh and his ways until Josiah began to push his nation towards the God who had saved his nation from Egypt.  The feasts had not been kept since the reign of Hezekiah, and few knew anything about them.  Indeed, there had been little in the temple to lead people to Yahweh.  It held far more altars to other gods than reminders of Yahweh – until Josiah had begun his outstanding work.  Now there was much more information available through prophets and priests, and Zaccai and Abigail found the worship of Yahweh unexpectedly attractive.  It was a worship built on purity and a separation from evil – so different from the horrific worship of the many idols of Canaan that had taken such an important position in the life of the nation.

“Should we invite people to stay in our house, Zaccai?  We have lots of room.”

“Do we have any relatives we should invite first?”

“Most of my relatives live in Jerusalem, or near enough to easily take part in any of the celebrations each day, and I think most of yours are the same.”

“Yes, though my mother has a few relatives from further south.  We could ask them, but if they come at all they are more likely to stay with my parents anyway.”

“You mean the ones who wouldn’t come to Jerusalem even when King Josiah read the Book of the Law?”

“Yes, those are the ones.  Really, it doesn’t seem likely that they will come unless they’ve had a sudden change of heart.”

“Probably not, but don’t you think we should at least ask them?”

“I suppose so.  It would be good for them to learn more about Yahweh.  I’ll talk to my father tomorrow.”

Josiah had been king for 18 years when the Book of the Law was discovered.  Armed with the extra knowledge it provided, he had ordered that the Passover feast be kept in Jerusalem.  He had also made it clear that the invitation was extended to everyone in Judah, and even to those in Israel.  As a result, the inhabitants of Jerusalem were being asked to give careful thought to providing accommodation for visitors.

Many of the inhabitants of Jerusalem had spent at least some of the long evenings of that rainy winter considering which of their relatives they could invite to stay with them or whether they should instead welcome completely unknown worshippers into their house.

Numerous letters had been sent to relatives and friends with invitations to join in the festivities in Jerusalem.  The king’s enthusiasm was catching, and the number of positive responses was astonishing.  Some might be coming just to see what all the fuss was about, but they would find a city filled from end to end with excited worshippers.

Reports from areas outside Jerusalem were already showing that many who planned to come – particularly those from the areas of subjugated Israel – would not have any relatives or friends who could put them up in their houses.  Where would they stay?

Zaccai visited his parents the following day, and his mother happily told him that her relatives would indeed be coming to the great feast and staying with them.

“It was quite a surprise to me,” he told Abigail later in the day.

“Well, it is hard to resist Josiah’s enthusiasm,” she said, smiling.  “After all, we couldn’t!”

“It’s amazing how much difference the reading of the Book of the Law made, too.  So many of us now feel that we know a bit of what life should really be like.”

“And prophets like Jeremiah are helping with that too.  If people won’t turn to Yahweh because of Josiah’s encouragement, maybe they will turn to him through Jeremiah’s warnings instead.”

“Yes, he’s a very serious young man, and his warnings are grave.  I wonder if things really are as bad as he says.”

“You’ve told me before that King Josiah believes him completely, and Huldah the prophetess agrees too, so why would you doubt him, Zaccai?”

“Oh, it’s just hard to believe that things can really be so terribly bad when we have a good king and so many are turning away from idols to worship Yahweh.”

“I haven’t been obeying God’s commands very well myself – I didn’t even know them,” argued Abigail.  “And I know that my parents haven’t either, nor my grandparents.  It’s hard to see how Yahweh could be pleased with us.  We haven’t been worshipping him properly for generations.”

“That’s true, but surely he is pleased that we are listening to him now?  And I don’t really think you have been too bad, my dear.”

“If you were a king whose subjects had ignored him and his rules for months, didn’t pay taxes, didn’t answer questions, broke his rules, fought in other armies and generally did whatever they wanted, would you be happy?  Then imagine that some of them started to pay some of their taxes – just every so often – would you be willing to forget all of their failures, the taxes they still owed and everything else?  God is meant to be our king, and our failures have been going on for centuries, not just a few months or years.”

“I suppose you are right, Abigail.  I hadn’t thought of it that way.  But when I do so, I start to wonder whether there is any way that we can ever make peace with God after so much rebellion.”

“I think all we can do is repent and try to do better from now on.”

“You’re probably right, and one of the ways we can do better is to offer lodgings to some people who come faithfully to Jerusalem to keep the feast.”

“I would like that, Zaccai.”

“Then I shall put our names on the king’s register.”

 

 

As the time for the Passover feast drew closer, and the first hints of spring appeared in the city and on the surrounding hills, the magnitude of the task Josiah had taken on became clearer.

The king had sent messengers throughout the cities and villages of Judah and Israel, calling everyone to come to Jerusalem in time for the fourteenth day of the first month.  “Don’t be late!” was the king’s urgent reminder; “We won’t be able to wait.”  Thousands from all over the country gave their word to the king’s messengers, and as the time approached, the numbers were tallied in Jerusalem.

One week before the feast, Shaphan the secretary saw the expected number of visitors and raised his eyebrows.  He showed the numbers to Maaseiah, the governor of the city, and the response was little short of spectacular.

“What?” shouted Maaseiah.  “You must have made a mistake with your adding.  We can’t possibly fit that many people in Jerusalem, however tightly we pack them in!”

“I don’t think there’s been any mistake in counting,” replied Shaphan, quietly.  “My chief of staff said that he checked the numbers five times because he couldn’t believe them.”

“I’m not surprised he couldn’t believe them,” said Maaseiah grimly, but calming down a little.  “They must be impossible, surely?”

“Well, you can be sure that some people who planned to come will be sick and unable to come.”

“Yes, and probably some who thought they were too sick to come have now recovered and are setting off as we speak.”

“Actually, I’ve heard that some people have already set off, to make sure that they get a good position, whether in the city or outside on the hills.”

Maaseiah put his hands to his head.  “We have arranged as many billets as possible.  Everyone with a room big enough to fit a person lying down has already been asked to fit two or three people in it.  All of the squares are full of temporary sleeping quarters.  We’ve even cleared all of the streets so that we can use them if we need to.”

“Well, you may be surprised to hear it, but King Josiah was pleased when I told him the number.”

“He’s not doing the organisation.”

“No, but he is paying for most of it.”

“I suppose so.  And I suppose that means he is very serious about it.  Strange, really.”

“Why, Maaseiah?”

“Well, it’s already been a big few months, and calling everyone to Jerusalem again just seems a little bit over the top.”

“Yahweh is important to the king, you know.”

“Yes, I understand that, but wasn’t the crowd that came to listen to the reading of the Book of the Law enough?”

“If these numbers are right, many more people will be coming for the Passover than came to hear the Book of the Law.  But no, the king won’t be satisfied until everyone is coming along every year.  Just think how crowded your city will be then… and try to keep your mouth closed, Maaseiah – it doesn’t look very statesmanlike.”