Previously on the Chosen People.

This wasn't just a conquest.

It was uncreation, Genesis in reverse, the undoing of Sinai.

It felt like the very end of the Covenant.

The priests were slaughtered, the scrolls reduced to floating flecks of carbon, the temple now just broken stone and melting gold.

A god shaped hole was carved into the city in the city square.

What remained of the people were bound in chains.

Bakers, stonecutters, scribes, poets, singers.

Every voice that once defined the soul of Judah now herded like cattle toward a future.

They did not choose the God who still holds the power to reverse every fate.

Still covered Zion like a burial cloth.

Bones still littered the valley.

The temple was still gone.

The king was blind, the ark was missing, the songs were faint.

But Hope, Hope was eating dinner in Babylon, and the Lord was not done, not even close.

Shello, my friends from here in the Holy Land of Israel.

I'm ya l extein with the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, and welcome to the Chosen People.

Each day we'll hear a dramatic story inspired by the Bible stories filled with timeless lessons of faith, love, and the meaning of life.

Through Israel's story, we will find this truth that we are all chosen for something great.

So take a moment today to follow the podcast.

If you're feeling extra grateful for these stories, we would love it if you left us a review.

I read every single one of them, and if you're interested in hearing more about the prophetic, life saving work of the Fellowship, you can visit IFCJ dot Org.

Let's begin.

In the years before Queen Ester's courage saved her people.

The elders of Israel still carried the weight of the past, haunted by memories of their temple in flames and Judah's final king in chains.

And then there were those who were born in captivity in the years of Babylonian exile, who had only the stories, stories of the rolling hills of Judah, the famed walls of Jerusalem, Solomon's once golden, gleaming temple.

But it was all rubble and ruin.

Now.

The once great House of David had allowed their hearts to be led astray, and the whole of Israel with them.

Jerusalem had fallen handed over to her enemies at last.

But despite the years and years of decline, betrayal, and abandonment, the word of the Lord did not fall.

The words of Prophecy, once whispered to the last kings in the stone halls of Jerusalem, and now echoed through the hushed whispers of captives, became the frail hope of God's chosen people.

The words of Jeremiah, almost seventy years to the day, hung in the air like the unrelenting force of fate, guiding the decisions of kings.

Hear the words of your God of Israel.

When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will send for you.

I will send you to breathe and bring.

You back to this place.

I know the plans I have you, plans to prosper will not harm you, plans to give you.

Hope and the future.

Then you will call on me, come and pray to me, and I will listen.

You will seek me and find me.

When you seek me with all your heart, I will be found by you and will bring you back from captivity.

I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you, and will bring you back to my arms.

And hope and seek and cling to the words of their long dead prophet.

The Jews did in the long years of their exile.

They murmured them in the markets, whispered them in the fields, and when they cried or prayed, they became like a hymn.

But the new king of Babylon did not fear their him or prayers.

He saw them as tools for peace in his vast empire.

When his name was uttered on the lips of their oppressors and his fame rose to prominence, the Jews were stunned at the truth of the prophecies of the feigned Isiah, who lived hundreds of years before the king called Cyrus ever ruled.

The lord says this.

To Cyrus, his anointing, whose right hand diet grass to subdue nations before him, and disarmed.

Kings to open doors before.

Him, and even city gates not beshas.

Cyrus had been a king and conqueror for over two decades before finally becoming the King of Babylon, and he did not become the most powerful ruler in the known world by happenstance or luck.

He carved out and took the territories he desired and he also allowed his subjects to worship their gods so long as they still observed Persian rule.

Cyrus was not a true believer or follower of Yahueh, but yet he was stirred by him and answered his promptings, issuing a decree that would restore order and loyalty among his subjects.

He sent for his scribes and issued a decree throughout his vast kingdom.

I am sis King and person, King of Babylon, ruler of four orders of the year.

The law.

The God of the heavens has given me all the kingdoms of the earth.

Then has appointed me to build him a house at Erusalem, him any of his people alone.

May his God be with and may he go in Jerusalem in Judah, and build the house of the Wall.

The God of Israel, the God who was in Jerusalem, but every survid wherever he resides, he assisted by the men of that Great with silver, goods and livestyle, along with a free will offering for the House of God in travers.

Yahueh moved Cyrus as he had once moved Pharaoh, to finally let his people go.

The Lord did not turn Cyrus's heart to a true conversion but instead used his political mind to act in the interest of the Israelites.

He desired the loyal and grateful subjects as opposed to a conquered enemy plotting to rise up against him, and it was through that policy that the Lord worked in his people's favor.

Through every province and dusty outpost, the scrolls of Destinies were carried and read aloud in town squares, hope igniting like wildfire in a dry field, it spread and spread until finally it reached the heart of exile in Babylon, where the so called Prince of Judah lived the Monaco Malked Sir Rubabel born in captivity in the years of exile.

He was the descendant of kings, but he was also a strategic hostage for the Persian government.

He was appointed to lead his people and keep them subdued and assimilated to Persian life.

Sir Rubabell held the title of governor, but the position boasted no real power, and he often wondered if he was truly made of the stuff of kings, as his lineage proclaimed, or if he was just an empty figurehead.

But then the scroll arrived and everything changed.

Any of his people among you may go to Jerusalem, and he built the temple of the Lord, the God of Israel, and let every survivor be supported by neighbors with silver and gold and goods and livestock.

Sir rube Bell gaped at jeshua A priest of Yahoeh, as he read from the worn parchment in his hands.

It was evident he had read and re read it dozens of times before he finally caught up to Zeruba Bell.

He had been on his way home from the city gate, where he had been listening to the disputes of his people when Jeshuah came huffing and puffing after him, a triumphant expression on his face.

We could go back and rebuild it.

We can go home, Yes, can you believe it.

We'll finally see Jerusalem.

We'll finally see the place the elders have.

Told us about since we were children, and we will finally be able.

To worship our God and a house worthy of him, proper temple, not those shabby altars hidden in corners are shared in false gods.

No, who'll be able to teach the word of the Lord from the gleaming.

Steps of Solomon's temple instead?

Of in cramped workshops and alleyways.

Can you imagine it?

The days Jeremiah spoke of are finally here, and we're the ones alive to see it.

Sir Rubabill, usually stern and serious, felt his soul stirred by the earnest, heartfelt words of Jeshua.

Too many thoughts to count flashed through his mind, the logistics questions, doubt, fear, but also hope, triumph, and joy.

The Jews were permitted to go home at last, and it would all fall on him to get them there.

Say something nice, my friend.

I can see the wheels turning in.

That stoic mind of yours.

I had to read it half a dozen times myself before.

I believed it.

Ha ha ha, I can hardly believe it.

This is what I've been waiting for.

On one lies, I.

Can't wait to see everyone's reaction when they hear the news.

Sirube Bell's face split into a wide smile to match the one on Jeshua's.

Joshua was slightly younger than Zaruba Bell, and like Zaruba Bell, he too had only known life in the gilded cage of captivity that was life in Babylon.

It was said to be the grandest city in the world.

It was a city of mighty temples and towering cigarets, of hanging gardens and golden idols, every corner steeped in the illusion of luxury and prosperity.

But to the careful, watchful eyes of both Zaruba Bell and Joshua, they saw the allure of Babylon for what it was, yet another trap of idolatry for the Israelites to fall into.

As if the slow decline and eventual collapse of their kingdom wasn't warning enough.

Jeshua and his band of trusted priests had worked tirelessly to set up synagogues throughout the city and organize the reading and studying of the law so that the Jews would not be tempted to stray away from their God in the city of temptations.

So Rubabel admired Joshua's fervent dedication over the years, and now that they were faced with the prospect of leading the people homeward last, he would need men like Jeshur at his side to accomplish this.

Sir John gather the elders sin word for the other priests and leavit.

Tell them means time.

Words spread like wildfire through Babylon.

At first disbelief, then questions could it really be true?

Were they really allowed to return to rebuild?

And memory can often be a double edged sword.

Some remembered the glory, others remembered the ruins.

Been seventy years, the city's gone.

Foreigners have taken our homes, bandits from the hills.

The hopeful Jeshua gauged in disbelief at the bitterness he was hearing from the gathered elders and leaders of the Jews.

But zeruba bell was more measured.

He could sense what the elders and other onlookers were not saying aloud.

They were afraid.

Though this was what they had been hoping for all these years, for many of them, all their lives, it was still frightening to leave the world.

You knew there would be unknowns and hardships on the road ahead.

Zerubabll gently placed a hand on Jeshua's shoulder to quiet whatever hasty words were surely forming on his lips.

Then we'll plant vinyards on the hills.

We'll rebuild the ruins with our bare hands, and even if there's not a foundation left on the temple mountain.

We'll raise an altar because I'm worship.

We will go and praise the Lord for all that he will restore, and then we will get to work rebuilding Zion, the Holy One of Israel, the city of God.

The elders took his measure.

Then they were all gathered in the modest Jewish quarter of Babylon, discussing the king's decree.

Perhaps this Prince of Judah would lead them, Yet, perhaps he was not just a figurehead of nobility installed to subdue them.

The bent and aging elder who led the doubting majority, sighed and inclined his head towards the Uba bell.

We will go, we will follow you, s of Robber bull Love shield Tel, the grandson of King Jehoiachen, the last heir of the Kings of Judah.

The people stirred and similarly inclined their heads respectfully before Zaruba bell.

He nodded and fought back the gnawing doubt that threatened to consume his mind.

His distant heritage loomed over him like a dark shadow.

His forefathers had failed and fell before their enemies, those from within and those from beyond.

Their borders.

Was he doomed to follow in their footsteps.

As if sensing his hesitation, Jeshuah turned and gave him an encouraging nod, and Zaruba Bell then spoke to the fear in his own heart, assuming it would be the very same fears the people would have about the unknown.

Do not be afraid.

If the Lord is with us, even rubble can become holy ground.

We go not to reclain powers.

That is where we begin with that.

Men gathered their tools, women packed their woven baskets, Elders dusted off family scrolls and whispered prayers of gratitude they hadn't thought would ever come.

Children ran through alleyways, wide eyed, overhearing talk of a city they'd only ever heard of in stories, Jerusalem.

As the day of departure drew near, neighbors and onlookers came forward with silver, gold, livestock and goods.

Just as Cyrus had decreed, Even gentiles gave freely, moved by something they couldn't quite name, from dusty courtyards to market squares.

Families began to form clusters, heads of households, sons of priests, levites and servants, singers and gatekeepers.

Every name remembered, every clan recorded.

The list went on and on, forty two thousand, three hundred and sixty people, not counting the servants in livestock, every one of them stepping into history.

The articles stolen from the temple decades before, silver basins, golden bowls, sacred vessels were brought out of storage and placed carefully into the hands of Zaruba Bell, the appointed prince of Judah, and entrusted for the journey.

These treasures, once defiled, were returning home, and so they departed, not as captives but as pilgrims, not as the forgotten, but as the remembered, returning to a land they had only heard in stories to become the next chapter in the story themselves.

If your faith has been kindled by this podcast and it has affected your life, we'd love it if you left her review.

We read them, and me personally, I cherish them as you venture forth boldly and faithfully.

I leave you with the biblical blessing from numbers six Iva Hashem vishmerechra Yeah Heir hashempanave ele y sa hachempanavelera shaloon.

May the Lord bless you and keep you.

May the Lord, make his face shine upon you.

May he be gracious to you.

Made the Lord turn his face towards you and give you peace.

Amen.

You can listen to the Chosen People with Isle Eckstein add free by downloading and subscribing to the pray dot Com app today.

This prey dot Com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents.

Steve Gattina, Max Bard, Zach Shellabarger and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of the Chosen People with Yile Eckstein, edited by Alberto Avilla, narrated by Paul Coltofianu.

Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotten, Aaron Salvado, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Stephen Ringwold, Sylvia Zaradoc, Thomas Copeland Junior, Rosanna Pilcher, and Mitch Lshinsky, and the opening prayer is voiced by John Moore.

Music by Andrew Morgan Smith, written by Aaron Salvato, bre Rosalie and Chris Baig.

Special thanks to Bishop Paulinier, Robin van Ettin, kayleb Burrows, Jocelyn Fuller, Rabbi Edward Abramson, and the team at International Fellowship of Christians and Jews.

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