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| Rembrandt: Ahasuerus, Haman, Esther |
An unknown author wrote Esther around 350 BC, but it is a story about events in 485-465 BC. It gives me an occasion to discuss goodness and courage among the people of God, regardless of the hostility of culture. I also discuss the dangers inherent in the reversal theology suggested by this book. Your investment of a pleasant hour reading the whole book of Esther will reward you. Not only is it a good read, with twists and turns (it is often likened to a brief historical novel), but you will receive insights for preaching an often-ignored slice of biblical life. Some portions of Esther are troubling, but more are fascinating. And God may be travelling incognito within its pages.
The book offers rationale for a Jewish festival. Jews continue to celebrate Purim to this day. Esther is read aloud, accompanied by cheers and jeers, depending on which character is named. Esther and Mordecai continue to be honored for their wit, bravery, and skill at maneuvering their way around court intrigue and protocol, in a setting where women and Jews had little power. Diaspora Judaism survives against the odds. Although the name Esther is very popular as a Jewish name, it is actually derived from the Persian. The rabbis of the Talmud (Chullin 139b), however, trace the name to Deuteronomy 31:18, where God says He will “surely hide His face” from the Jewish people: “Anochi hasterastir et panai.” In a play on words, the rabbis are saying that the book of Esther represents a time when God is not found, is “hidden,” when the Divine Presence seems to be obscured. Yet, in the end, the people are saved.
The story of Mordecai may well have some basis in history, while the story of Vashti has its basis in popular accounts of intrigue in the harem, and the story of Esther herself is a simple story about a young Jewess who saves her people from persecution.
The community at Qumran may not have accepted the book as part of the canon, it being the only Old Testament book not represented. It does not explicitly mention God. Some rabbis did not accept the book as canonical, though the council of Jamnia accepted it in 90 AD. In the church, the west accepted it around the 300's, but the east rejected it. In antiquity, people often associated it with Tobit and Judith, a book with a similar theme.
One can understand these doubts.
From a contemporary perspective, many have argued that Esther is not an admirable role model. Esther competed in a beauty contest of sorts, sponsored by the king of Persia around 450 B.C. She won the Miss Persia title, married the Gentile king and had sex with him. She apparently did not live as a Jew, was a part of the king’s harem, and lived in a Persian court. This is not a girl Jewish mothers would ask their daughters to emulate. Yet, there she is in the Bible of both Jews and Christians.
From the Jewish perspective, it does not mention Yahweh or God, Law or Covenant, angels or afterlife, or the virtues of love, kindness, mercy, and forgiveness. Instead, it emphasizes a vengeful, bloodthirsty, and chauvinistic spirit. It has an absence of Jewish religious practices in Esther. One possible exception is the mention of fasting in 4:16, but the fasting here comes as a request from Esther before she appears before the king. It is more of a “wish me good luck” request than a reference to a Jewish religious practice.
So, we return now to the question: “Why include Esther in the biblical canon?” It’s an exciting story, to be sure. It’s Hollywood-worthy, and has made it to the silver screen, although not recently (Esther and the King [1960] starring Joan Collins as Esther and Richard Egan as Ahasuerus). But without a single reference to Yahweh or any mention of religious practices, why not move Esther to Jewish extra-canonical apocryphal literature where the story can take its place alongside similar narratives like Judith, for example, whose eponymous hero uses her beauty and coquettish personality to save Israel from destruction by decapitating the Assyrian General Holofernes?
From the Jewish and Christian perspective, where is God in all of this? The fact that the name of God is not mentioned in the narrative is a positive reason to exclude Esther from the Hebrew canon. That God is absent in Esther is unique to the Hebrew Bible and the Old and New Testaments of the Christian Bible. The name of God is not only absent, but so too is the presence of God. All the action in this drama is human action. There is no divine action or guidance to rescue any of the participants in this story.
From the Christian perspective, it is not connected to any Christian purpose, and indeed it seems to be motivated by the desire to tell a story in which the Jews are able to carry out violence against Gentiles. The fact that no Christian festival associates itself with Purim is a significant factor in the questions about this book. No surviving Christian commentary exists until 836. Even casual references in the early church fathers are rare. Martin Luther said, "I am so hostile to this book (II Maccabees) and to Esther that I could wish they did not exist at all; for they Judaize too greatly and have much pagan impropriety."
Yet, one need not dismiss the book too quickly. The characters in Esther are typical stereotypes found in Wisdom literature. The author did not emphasize the usual elements of Jewish piety, such as dietary laws, covenant, and the immanent God who is easily accessible in prayer and acts in Jewish history. In that sense, it is more like Ecclesiastes, Job, and Proverbs. Further, God's presence and providence may be involved behind the scenes, such as within the multiple “coincidences“; and see 4:14 above. There are parallels to the stories of the God-aided Joseph and Daniel, who both received remarkable honors and positions in foreign lands. Further, some assert a few incidences of acrostically-combined letters which would spell out “YHWH“ [Yahweh/ the LORD] in Hebrew.
When Esther was written, Jews were not living in their homeland. They were dispersed and living in exile. So, Esther is a diaspora story, as is Daniel. This being true, the question for the exiled Jew becomes: How do I live as a Jew away from the temple, my homeland and my people? Esther offers insight, and this is why Esther is in the Bible. The purpose of Esther is to remind post-exilic Jews that one can prosper in a foreign land as an exile without giving up one’s identity as a Jew. In other words, if Esther can do it, so can you. Esther, by winning that beauty contest, and then by being smart and gutsy, saves her people and in doing so demonstrates to Jewish exiles that they, too, can not only survive but thrive if they play their cards right. The exiles also learn from Esther that they don’t need to be conspicuously religious to survive in a foreign country. God is not mentioned. Religious practices are absent from the story. So Jewish identity is essentially ethnic, not religious. Dr. Sidnie Crawford, president of the W.F. Albright Institute of Archaeological Research in Jerusalem, notes, “It is who Esther is that makes her Jewish, rather than what she practices or believes.” The message to the exiles who cannot worship in the temple and therefore cannot be religious Jews is that they can certainly retain their ethnicity and avoid assimilation in the “melting pot of the ancient Near East.” Esther is a diaspora story. It is in the Bible but not because it is overtly religious as is Daniel, another diaspora narrative. Esther is in the Bible because the title character and the story itself serve as reminders that Jews could live and survive in the diaspora and throughout decades, centuries and millennia without a temple and a homeland.
Esther reminds Christians that it is possible to live as a Christian in times that are completely unfavorable, even hostile, to us as believers and followers of Jesus. Throughout history, even U.S. history, she has inspired countless, especially those seeking freedom. Consider the case of Sojourner Truth, whose very name underscores one of the lessons we glean from Esther. Sojourner Truth was an American abolitionist and women’s rights activist. Truth was born into slavery in Swartekill, N.Y., but escaped with her infant daughter to freedom in 1826. After going to court to recover her son in 1828, she became the first black woman to win such a case against a white man (Wikipedia). At a Women’s Rights Convention in New York City in 1853, Sojourner Truth was one of the speakers. Although she was illiterate, she knew her Bible stories. She told the conferees: “Queen Esther come forth, for she was oppressed, and felt there was a great wrong and she said I will die or I will bring my complaint before the king. Should the king of the United States (Presidents were Millard Fillmore and Franklin Pierce) be greater, or more crueler, or more harder?” Sojourner Truth and Esther are models for us to emulate regardless of our gender.
Persia (modern-day Iran) is mentioned in several later biblical texts; e.g., it is prominent in Ezra and Daniel. Emperor Cyrus the Great (500's B.C.) authorized Jewish exiles to go home and to rebuild the temple. Esther is in the third portion of the Hebrew Bible, the Writings (ketubim). It is only 10 chapters long. No explicit mention of God, torah (God's law/instruction) or Jewish religious beliefs and practices (except fasting) appear in the Hebrew. But Roman Catholic and Orthodox churches accept as canonical more than 100 additional originally Greek verses, which do mention God and Jewish religious traditions.
The historical accuracy of Esther vis-à-vis Persian court-life, customs and history is debated, with evidence pro and con. Irrespective of that, it is an amazing piece of biblical literature, with plot developments revealing reversals of “fortune“ between Haman and Mordecai, and between those who would destroy Jews and the Jews themselves. The expressions “poetic justice“ and “being hoisted by one's own petard“ come to mind.
The vengeance-taking offends certain readers, but in Esther's biblical context, it is seen as justly righting a wrong, turning the tables on oppressors. See Psalms 7:14-16; 9:15-17; 149:5-9; 124 (all).
The story concerns court intrigue and ethnic prejudice during the reign of Xerxes I, who lived from 519-465 BC and reigned from 486-465. History knows him as Xerxes the Great. He is a monarch with absolute power and authority. Even today, Hollywood movies like 300 (2006) immortalize him. The primary task of Xerxes left by his father Darius was to conquer Greece, at which he failed in 480 BC. His other task was to complete the royal palace at Persepolois, at which he was successful.[1] The author shows awareness of the Persian court as well. There are many historical improbabilities, such as the events recorded here occurring at the same time the king, we know from non-biblical sources, is planning an attack upon Greece, and that Mordecai came to the capitol city in 597 BC and now it is, according to the book, 482 BC. This betrays a lack of historical knowledge by the author, likely caused by distance from the events described. Such historical questions open the possibility that the story has an association with other legends from the ancient Near East, such as A Thousand and One Nights, such as at 1:1-2:14. Herodotus, in IX, 108-113, refers to Queen Amestris rather than Vashtai. Further, one suspects that Purim has its origin in a pagan festival adopted by Jews along the way.
Esther is the story of several ironic reversals. She becomes the paradigm of the diaspora Jew. She successfully became part of the power structure of Persian society. She showed how a Jew could attain some comfort in a foreign environment. In the end, the reversal will involve the oppressed becoming powerful, influential, and oppressive. The reversal occurs through human action motivated by ethnic solidarity and an underlying faith in divine providence. Esther was a powerless member of a powerless group. Yet, we read of the reversal of expected outcomes. The status various parties hold undergoes sudden change. The reversals are significant:
- Vashti the queen becomes Vashti the banished.
- Esther the humble orphan becomes a powerful queen.
- Haman, who swings high and mighty, becomes the person swinging mighty high ... by his neck!
- Mordecai, Haman's targeted victim, becomes the grand poo-bah in the empire instead of Haman.
- The diaspora Jews, whose destruction the royal edict sanctioned, become the victors over their enemies, thanks to a counter-edict. Their mourning turns to rejoicing.[2]
The hero of the story is actually Mordecai, for he provided the brains while Esther follows his direction. The story reads more like a historical novel. There are interesting novelistic twists. The author was more interested in plot and action, telling an interesting and lively story that would provide the basis for the festival of Purim. It is unique that the book does not mention God. The text does refer to prayer and fasting at a critical moment in the development of Esther's plan. Even if God is not mentioned, God is in the background. We might wonder if providence does not guide the story. Did God help matters along by making Esther so well liked? When Mordecai says that if Esther does not help, there will be assistance from "another quarter," one wonders if this does not refer to God.
Chapter 1 begins the story in which the means by which the king planned to establish male supremacy in the choosing of a queen ended in the new queen, Esther, controlling the king. Esther 1:1-9 sketches briefly the opulence of the Persian court as well as a court crisis prompted by the refusal of Vashti, the Persian queen, to appear at the king’s command, resulting in her banishment (1:10-2:4). We see here his authority and power. We do not know why she refused to attend. Her actions have the effect of publicly humiliating the king. The king is infuriated. He decides that he needs a new queen, someone who will be more attentive to his royal needs. A search among the kingdom’s virgins brings Esther to court as Ahasuerus’ new queen (2:8-18), while her cousin and guardian Mordecai (whose name has the same root as the Babylonian god Marduk) foils a plot to assassinate the king (2:19-23). Mordecai thinks his young cousin should present herself as a possibility. The text says the servants of the king took her. Did she go voluntarily? Regardless, she pleases the king. Esther, a teen girl, suddenly receives the gift of elevation in status to queen of the realm. She spends a year in the harem.
We can imagine she is enjoying this. Attendants pamper her and take care of her. Attendants lather her with the latest in oils and cosmetics. She has a raft of maids attending to her every need. In a sense, it is a "Cinderella" "reversal-of-fortune" story. A number of such stories appear in the Bible -- reversal of fortune theology. David, for example. When the Bible introduces us to the future king of Israel, we find a kid tending sheep, playing the guitar (okay, lyre) and writing poetry. Through a series of events well-known to any preacher, Samuel anoints him as king. Shortly thereafter, he slays a giant, and his legend is secure in the history of Israel. Or Joseph. He is a favorite of his father, but despised by his brothers. His brothers toss him into a well, and then sell him to a caravan of merchants. The wife of Pharaoh falsely accuses him of taking sexual liberties with the overseer's wife. Pharaoh throws him into prison. He has no future, no life. Then -- suddenly -- he is virtually the pharaoh of Egypt! Daniel. Here is a young man who rises in favor with the king. Then, enemies accuse him of treason and toss him to the lions. However, they refuse to eat this godly man. God delivers Daniel and his accusers get what is coming to them.
At this point in the story, here are a couple of texts I find interesting.
Esther 2:15b (NRSV)
15 Now Esther was admired by all who saw her.
Esther 2:17 (NRSV)
17 the king loved Esther more than all the other women; of all the virgins she won his favor and devotion, so that he set the royal crown on her head and made her queen instead of Vashti.
What I find interesting here is that, while many beautiful women rely only on their beauty, Esther also won the favor of all who encountered her. For this to occur, she would have had to eat, dress, and live like a Persian rather than an observant Jewess. Note the contrast with the story of Daniel. She wanted to be queen. She realized that goal because of the support and counsel of others. She appears as a Jew, but one wonders if she was not more like the modern "secular" Jew, where her religion was quite in the background. Yet, one also wonders if this concealment of her identity was not more for the purpose of the plot, rather than to make us think of history.
Concurrently, as Mordecai rises in the Persian court, he runs afoul of the Persian nobleman Haman, favored by the king, by refusing to bow down to him. Showing proper respect for those in authority or honor by bowing and/or performing obeisance (a gesture somewhat more extensive than mere bowing) was not, in principle, prohibited to Jews. Abraham bowed before his guests (Genesis 18:2). Lot bowed before his angelic guests (Genesis 19:1). Abraham bowed before the Hittites (Genesis 23:7). Leah, Joseph, and Rachel bow before Esau (Genesis 33:7). The brothers of Joseph, not knowing they stood before their brother, bowed before him as an Egyptian official (Genesis 42:6). Moses bowed before his father-in-law (Exodus 18:7). Balaam bowed before the angel of the Lord (Numbers 22:31). Abigail bowed before the servants of David (I Samuel 25:41). Therefore, the conjunction of Mordecai's identification as a Jew and his refusal to bow down to Haman appears to have its basis in a personal grudge rather than on a religious precept: Mordecai simply refuses to acknowledge an undeserving cad. In an enraged response not dissimilar to the king's tendency toward overreaction (a literary device used throughout the book), Haman persuades the king (3:6-11) to kill all the Jews living in the Persian Empire (which dominated the Middle East from cc. 550 to cc. 330 B.C.). Haman vows to avenge this perceived slight by destroying not only Mordecai, but also all the Jews in the Persian realm (3:1-15). Learning of this plan to destroy his people, Mordecai enlists the aid of Queen Esther, who risks capital punishment by approaching the king unbidden (4:1-5:1). The reason that Esther did not know about the plot to kill Jews is that the author wishes to tell an interesting and fast-moving story, ignoring minor details from time to time. We do not need to look for historical answers.
A text I find interesting at this point.
Esther 4:13-16 (NRSV)
13 Mordecai told them to reply to Esther, "Do not think that in the king's palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews. 14 For if you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father's family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this." 15 Then Esther said in reply to Mordecai, 16 "Go, gather all the Jews to be found in Susa, and hold a fast on my behalf, and neither eat nor drink for three days, night or day. I and my maids will also fast as you do. After that I will go to the king, though it is against the law; and if I perish, I perish."
Mordecai suggests that Esther needs to have an attitude of openness to what God wants, even when we have puzzlement. God may be leading us in a direction that God has not yet revealed. He is inviting her to take a risk. We must never be afraid to trust an unknown future to the God who has graciously given us knowledge of who God is.[3] Our little lives become great in the sense that they become part of the mysterious work of the salvation God seeks to bring to humanity. In that context, nothing is accidental, casual, or futile. The most insignificant events can speak the language of faith, hope, and love.[4] Although some people speculate that "another quarter" may refer to Nehemiah, the suggestion that it refers to God is attractive. Further, the story reinforces that Esther might have some temptation to keep her Jewish identity a secret even at this critical time. The reference to fasting and the suggestion of prayer is important, suggesting some guidance from God at a critical moment in the story. With this impending tragedy ready to fall upon the Jews, God stands in the wings, following the play and encouraging the actors, as references to sackcloth, ashes, and fasting suggest. Even when we are unsure of our situation, we can be sure that the will of God aims at our well-being at all levels. The will of God is toward help, healing, liberating, and saving. The will of God is toward life, joy, freedom, peace, and salvation.[5] We see in Esther that basic goodness orients itself toward others. She was in no immediate danger. If her goal had merely been to save herself, all she had to do was keep her mouth shut, as nobody in the court knew she was Jewish. Mordecai shows her that the unnamed God had placed her in this royal position for this moment. Esther resolves to do the right thing, regardless of the possible negative outcomes and therefore the possible cost. She shows that goodness is a powerful force and shows great courage. When you think defeat is coming before you begin, but you begin anyway, and you see it through no matter what, you display courage.[6]
Esther delays revealing her request to the king and instead invites him and Haman to a pair of banquets she hosts (5:2-9). Haman’s delight in receiving the invitation to the queen’s very exclusive banquet — only the king and Haman are present — seems spoiled by his growing jealousy of Mordecai, who by now has advanced in the king’s service and favor. Haman redoubles his efforts to destroy Mordecai (5:12-14), but before he can do so, he receives further humiliation by a royal decree forcing him to honor Mordecai before all the residents of Susa, the Persian capital (6:5-11). Haman concealed the identity of the people he wanted killed, while the king conceals the identity of the one he hopes to honor.
The theme of 6:12-8:2 details the reversal of fortunes of Haman and Mordecai; two of the principals in this story of court intrigue and the triumph of the Jew in a foreign court (cf. similar accounts about Joseph in Genesis 39-41 and Daniel in Daniel 1-6). It is the climax of the ongoing rivalry between Haman, a high official in the Persian court (3:1-2), and Mordecai, a Jew living in exile in the Persian citadel city of Susa (2:5). The story is devoid of any direct mention of the deity. Thus, the ingenuity and strength of character of the story's protagonists reveal the divine will in the midst of historical exigencies. Esther shows us that goodness is “wise as serpents and innocent as doves,” (Matthew 10:16). Goodness, far from being a weak, doormat attribute, is a characteristic of God himself. Thus, it is both innocent and wise. After Esther took the huge risk of approaching the king on her own, he welcomed her. Then, instead of blurting out her request, she invited both her husband and Haman to a banquet. Esther is careful to make her request at the right time. Esther never lost sight of her goal.
As we consider 6:14-7:10, the story unmasks Haman in a way that leads to his execution.
In Chapter 7, Esther asked Haman to come. She unveils the culprit who would bring about the death of her people, but she also discloses herself and her heritage for the first time. Esther identifies with the Jewish people. Haman appeals to a Jewess for help, even though he issued a decree for them to be exterminated. He shows himself as either stupid or vain. Mordecai receives Haman's wealth and position. Chapter 7 is part of a larger portion of the book (6:12-8:2), the downfall of the wicked Haman and the rise of the virtuous Mordecai. Mordecai and Esther live peacefully as diaspora Jews in the Persian Empire at the time of King Ahasuerus, a monarch identified as either Xerxes I (486-465 B.C.E.) or, less likely, Artaxerxes II (405-359 B.C.E.). Neither the historical references in the book itself nor external witnesses such as Josephus and the Greek version of Esther allow us to date the book exactly.
1So, based upon the preceding events, the king Ahasuerus (also mentioned in Ezra 4:6 and Daniel 9:1) and Haman, identified in 3:1 as the “son of Hammedatha the Agagite,” went in to feast with Queen Esther. The writer has depicted the king throughout the story as an impetuous and impulsive pawn of courtiers and advisers — a deliberate ironical twist on his name, which means “chief of kings.” Of Haman’s father we know nothing, and his origin as a descendant of King Agag of the Amalekites links him to one of the historic enemies of the Hebrew people (Exodus 17:8-16; Numbers 24:20; 1 Samuel 15). The meaning of Haman’s name is unknown, but his function as chief antagonist in the melodrama is clear: His overweening pride, his fragile ego and his ruthless cunning represent the antithesis of the virtues of modesty, nobility, courage and dignity embodied in Mordecai and Esther.
2On the second day, as they were drinking wine (literally “at the feast of wine,” suggesting the wine is flowing freely) the king again said to Esther, using poetic couplets, ‘What is your petition, Queen Esther? I shall grant it to you. What is your request? Even to the half of my kingdom, it shall be fulfilled.’ Esther must have been relieved to hear the king's sweeping promise. Esther waits until the right moment to explain her boldness in approaching the king earlier. Vashti has already set the precedent in this story for a queen’s banquet (1:9), who gave a banquet for the women of Susa in tandem with the banquet given by the king for its male residents (1:5). While women and men could dine together in Persia, the literary device of separating their banquets advances the story with colorful detail and suspense while also linking its several pivotal episodes (recurring at 1:7-8; 2:18; 3:15; 5:5-8; 7:1-10; 9:22). Vashti’s refusal to leave her own all-women’s banquet to attend the king was what triggered the chain of events leading to Esther’s elevation and the endangering of the Jews. In the context of the story, women’s banquets pose a variety of threats. Banquets, no doubt in part because of the influence of alcohol on the judgment of the guests, frequently function as liminal occasions in traditional literature, offering an occasion when any number of unforeseen possibilities may occur. The ingesting of wine occasioned any number of disasters in biblical literature. We could refer to Canaan's cursing after Noah's drunkenness (Genesis 9), the incestuous union of Lot and his daughters (Genesis 19:32ff), Nabal's apoplectic attack (I Samuel 25:36-38), Absalom's revenge against Amnon (II Samuel 13:23-29). The dangers of strong drink were to be avoided altogether by some members of Israelite society (e.g., Nazirites, I Samuel 1:11). In such an unstable context, the final confrontation between Haman and Mordecai occurs and a second royal favorite will fall. 3Then Queen Esther also named Hadassah, “Myrrh,” 2:7, answered, also in poetic parallelism, ‘If I have won your favor, O king, the usual royal obliquity, an idiom prefacing a supplication, and if it pleases the king. Biblical authors use such phrases for requests to both human rulers (e.g., Genesis 47:29, 50:4; I Samuel 20:29, 27:5, etc.) and God (Exodus 34:9), It seems likely that the authors transferred the human usage secondarily to the divine usage. She continues with the request let my life be given me—that is my petition—and the lives of my people—that is my request.[7] In spite of nervousness, Esther speaks with dignity and uses court etiquette. Esther displays real wisdom, goodness, and courage. She has no raw physical power. For all she knew, the revelation of her identity with the Jewish people could have meant her death. She named herself first, not out of self-interest, but because she astutely knew that saving her would be more important to the king, and the rest of her people could ride to safety on the tails of her royal gown. The king, besotted with both drink and Esther's beauty, comes off badly in the tale as an unenlightened ruler easily manipulated by courtiers and favorites. 4For we have been sold, possibly referring to the transaction between king and Haman, I and my people, to be destroyed, to be killed, and to be annihilated. She uses a repetitive stock phrase that forms a leitmotif in the story, also occurring in 3:13, where the decree for the destruction of the Jews announces the crisis of the story, and at 8:11, when the king reverses the fortunes of the Jews. If we had been sold merely as slaves, men and women, I would have held my peace; but no enemy can compensate for this damage to the king.’ Esther’s plea for the Jews includes reminding the king that his subjects targeted for destruction — with whom she identifies herself without specifically naming the victims or herself as Jews — will be destroyed wantonly, i.e., not even for purposes of slavery, political exchange or corvée. Had the king sold them into foreign slavery, Esther argues, there might have been opportunity for compensation for the economic and political damage done the king, but with the destruction of the people — and for a bribe, no less — the loss is permanent and an insult to the king’s majesty. Thus, the mere "transferring" of resident exiles into slavery would not have merited the king's attention; destroying the king's property, however, is a gravely different matter. 5Then King Ahasuerus said to Queen Esther, ‘Who is he, and where is he, who has presumed to do this?’ Given that the life of the king was in jeopardy earlier, and now his queen, we as readers find it understandable that he is upset. 6Esther said, ‘A foe and enemy, this wicked Haman!’ Then Haman was terrified before the king and the queen. Esther, in unmasking Haman, also unmasks herself. She shows oneness with her people, a trait of Jewish people down through the centuries. The king vindicates Esther and hangs Haman. Esther is not necessarily cold to Haman. As long as one so cruel continued to live, the people were in danger. He was falling, but not defeated.
Haman is revealed to be the mastermind behind the plot and throws himself (quite literally, 7:8) on the mercy of the queen.
9Then Harbona, in true turnabout fashion, one of the eunuchs in attendance on the king makes a helpful suggestion, showing a characteristic of this story and beloved in Bible stories like Joseph in the court of Pharaoh and Daniel in the court of Nebuchadnezzar. The eunuch said, ‘Look, the very gallows that Haman has prepared for Mordecai, whose word saved the king, stands at Haman’s house, fifty cubits high.’ The king said, ‘Hang him on that.’ Normally, Haman would have had opportunity to defend himself, but the king seems struck by the poetic justice of it all. 10So they hanged Haman on the gallows that he had prepared for Mordecai. Then the anger of the king abated.
Just as Haman had plotted to kill all the Jews to avenge himself against a single Jew, so now, with the king’s blessing, the Jews are permitted to attack their enemies in self-defense (8:11-9:19), which they do, although refraining from despoiling their victims (perhaps collectively remembering earlier difficulties with Amalekite spoil, I Samuel 15).
The theme of the Jewish festival of Purim dominates Chapter 9. Some scholars suggest that the festival may have its roots in a Persian new year’s celebration. Jews living in the Persian diaspora may have seen in the celebration of casting lots to determine individual and collective fortunes for the coming year a reflection of a Jewish legend involving the unexpected rise of a courtier named Mordecai (for whom the day receives its name in II Maccabees 15:36) and his beautiful cousin, Esther. Thus, the storyteller joined the pieces into roughly the biblical book as we have it today. I find a challenging text at this point.
Esther 9:5 (NRSV)
5 So the Jews struck down all their enemies with the sword, slaughtering, and destroying them, and did as they pleased to those who hated them.
Esther 9:16 (NRSV)
16 Now the other Jews who were in the king's provinces also gathered to defend their lives, and gained relief from their enemies, and killed seventy-five thousand of those who hated them; but they laid no hands on the plunder.
Such verses in the bible puzzle modern readers. We see here the beginning of ethnic hatred as it relates to Judaism. The text does not say that God commanded the people to do this. Rather, the people simply act, even though their action occurs after much prayer and fasting. Thus, the end of the story is less edifying. Not content with having saved their people and taken care of Haman, Esther and Mordecai used their new power to orchestrate the slaughter of 75,000 of their old enemies. The whole unpleasant account is contained in the book of Esther, which has the distinction of being the only book in the Bible where the name of God isn't even mentioned. There seems every reason to believe that he considered himself well out of it.[8] 9:20 Mordecai recorded these things, and sent letters to all the Jews who were in all the provinces of King Ahasuerus, both near and far. He 21enjoined them, in response to this unexpected reversal of fortune, that they should keep the fourteenth day of the month Adar and also the fifteenth day of the same month, year by year. 22On these days, the Jews gained relief from their enemies, and as the month that had been turned for them from sorrow into gladness and from mourning into a holiday; that they should make them days of feasting and gladness, days for sending gifts of food to one another and presents to the poor.
Chapter 10 shows why there are two different dates for the festival called Purim. The author makes it clear that the people, not God, brought about the victory against those who hated them.
A world of caution is in order. One reason many people did not accept that Jesus was the Messiah was because he was not promoting the swap-places kind of reversal the Esther story illustrates. The danger of such a swap places reversal is that it becomes an example of the story of George Orwell in Animal Farm. The oppressed become the oppressor. Rather, Jesus' great reversal, founded on love, meant showing that the weakness demonstrated in such things as servanthood and compassion was real strength, and that the poverty shown by not holding too tightly onto possessions was the real wealth. As the apostle Paul (I Corinthians 1:27-29) explained it, God chose the foolish in the world to shame the wise. God chose the weak to shame the strong.
Esther is an example of making a soft difference in the world. I do not mean weak. The people of God have a fundamental difference with the way the world orders itself. The difference does not involve threats or coercion. It does not involve thinking the people of God are better than the world or that they have redemption and the world does not. The world and the church are both fallen and redeemed. For the Christian, this redemption occurs through the cross. The people of God know this and seek to live their lives in the light of that knowledge. The question then becomes whether the people of God are vibrant, engaging, and enticing in their witness in the world. If the people of God are walking in the world of politics, they are walking in particularly dangerous territory. Repeatedly, the political world has co-opted the Christian faith for its ungodly purposes. Yet, even here, Esther teaches us, the people of God need to show their courage wisely, with goodness and wisdom.[9]
[1] Regarding Xerxes I and the Battle of Thermopylae (as retold via the movie 300 [2006]): During a lull in the battle, Xerxes personally approaches Leonidas to persuade him to surrender, offering him wealth and power in exchange for his allegiance; Leonidas declines and mocks Xerxes for the inferior quality of his fanatical warriors. In response, Xerxes sends in his elite guard, the Immortals, later that night. Despite some Spartans being killed, they heroically defeat the Immortals (with slight help from the Arcadians). On the second day, Xerxes sends in new waves of armies from Asia and other Persian city-states, including war elephants, to crush the Spartans once and for all, but to no avail. Meanwhile, Ephialtes defects to Xerxes to whom he reveals the secret path in exchange for wealth, luxury and (especially) a uniform. The Arcadians retreat upon learning of Ephialtes' betrayal, but the Spartans stay. Leonidas orders an injured but reluctant Dilios to return to Sparta and tell them of what has happened, a "tale of victory." --http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/300_(film). Retrieved April 21, 2015.
[2] Crawford, Sidnie White. “The Book of Esther -- Introduction.“ The New Interpreter's Bible, Vol. III. (Nashville: Abingdon, 1999), 857. Sidnie Ann White, The Women's Bible Commentary, Carol A. Newsom and Sharon H. Ringe, eds., Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1992, pp. 126-129.
[3] Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God. –Corrie ten Boom, Hiding Place.
[4] Our little lives become great -- part of the mysterious work of God's salvation. Once that happens, nothing is accidental, casual or futile any more. Even the most insignificant event speaks the language of faith, hope and, above all, love. --Henri J. M. Nouwen, from the Conclusion to With Burning Hearts: A Meditation on the Eucharistic Life (Orbis, 2003).
[5] From the first to the last page of the Bible, it is clear that God's will is aimed at our well-being at all levels. God's will is a helpful, healing, liberating, saving will. God wills life, joy, freedom, peace, salvation ... both of the individual and of [humanity] as a whole. And this is the meaning of all that Jesus proclaims. --Hans Küng, The Christian Challenge: A Shortened Version of On Being a Christian (Doubleday, 1979), 146.
[6] I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what. --Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird (HarperCollins, 2006), 128.
[7] Ahasuerus introduces the two-part expression (5:6), which Esther adopts (5:8) and formalizes in 7:3. Her petition is that her life be given her and her request is that the lives of her people, the Jews, be spared. It is very likely that the splitting of the original single request into two desiderata is an over-literalization of poetic parallelism: "What is your petition - it shall be granted you - and what is your request?" is actually a single question with a parenthetical insertion, not two questions and a statement. That later transmitters of the original tale (in oral or written form) would misunderstand the poetic device should occasion no surprise; a similar misunderstanding resulted in Jesus' riding into Jerusalem on two beasts instead of one in Matthew's account of Palm Sunday (Matthew 21:5, referencing, but not quoting, Zechariah 9:9).
[8] —Frederick Buechner, Beyond Words: Daily Readings in the ABC’s of Faith (HarperOne, 2009), 417.
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