For Such a Time as This
December 16, 2012 | Patty Friesen

The Book of Esther begins like a fairy tale, “This happened in the days of Ahasuerus, the same Ahasuerus who ruled over 127 provinces from India to Ethiopia.  In those days when King Ahasuerus sat on his royal throne in the citadel of Susa in the third year of his reign, he gave a banquet for all his officials and ministers.  The army of Persia and Media and the nobles and governors of the provinces were present, while he displayed the great wealth of his kingdom and the splendor and pomp of his majesty for many days, one hundred eighty days in all.” 

While sounding like a fairy tale, the book of Esther purports to be a historical work set in the court of an actual Persian king while the Jews were in exile in Persia.  Ahasuerus is the Hebrew word for “mighty man” a title that King Xerxes used on his monuments.  “Mighty Man” must have been secure in his reign to allow his government to grind to a halt while they banqueted for six months.  Then he has a second banquet for the people of Susa, described with lavish detail. “There were white cotton curtains and blue hangings tied with cords of fine linen and purple to silver rings and marble pillars.  There were couches of gold and silver.  Drinks were served in golden goblets and the royal wine was lavished according to the bounty of the king.  Usually the king set the pace of drinking, when he drank, everybody drank. 

The extended description of the banquets, contrasts greatly with the usually scanty physical descriptions in the Hebrew Bible.  Through these descriptions, we get a glimpse of the Persian character, ostentatious, showy, and unbridled.  This is in direct contrast to the usual Jewish values of modesty and self-restraint.  Banquets in this story signal that something important is about to happen and all the drinking is a red flag for trouble.

“On the seventh day, when the king was merry with wine, he commanded his seven eunuchs to bring Queen Vashti before the king, wearing the royal crown, in order to show the people her beauty.  But Queen Vashti refused to come.”  This makes the king mad but he doesn’t know what to do with the fact that he has been a fool so his advisors tell him to fire her and give her crown to another and decree that all husbands shall be the head of their household.  The all-powerfulness of Ahasuerus is revealed as a sham when he doesn’t even have power over his own wife.  It is not enough to declare that one has power.  To truly have power, one must have the accompanying wisdom and skill to exercise it. 

When the king sobers up in chapter 2, he remembered Vashti and what she had done and what he had decreed against her.  Again he is powerless in the face of his emotion and regret and his advisors tell him to select a new queen from all the beautiful young women.  The theme of power arises again as the king wreaks havoc on the lives of every family in the empire in a gross sexual contest.  Suddenly we are introduced to an orphaned Jewish girl, raised by her exiled cousin Mordecai, from the least tribe, the Benjamites, brought into the story – a classic tale of rags to riches, orphan to queen.  While obviously fatherless, verse 15 names her as Esther, daughter of Abihail, which in Hebrew means “mighty father.”  She is the daughter of a different kind of mighty man; a mighty father which makes her a different kind of princess, a beloved daughter.  This knowledge must give her strength.  The king is impressed with and gives her the crown and another wedding banquet – Esther’s banquet – such as is described in Psalm 45. 

Chapter 3 introduces the fourth main character Haman, the king’s new right hand man to whom Mordecai refuses to bow.  Haman’s revenge goes beyond personal to racial, telling the king, “There is a certain people scattered and separate among the peoples in all the provinces of your kingdom, their laws are different from other people, and they do not keep the king’s laws.”  Note the “they” versus us language and charges of truths, half-truths and lies.  The king has no qualms about handing this unknown people over to Haman.  He isn’t anti-Semitic, but simply thoughtless and lazy, characteristics that are just as dangerous as Haman’s evil.  As soon as the decree to kill all the Jews and plunder their goods is issued, the king and Haman sat down to drink at a banquet of ultimate power while the city was thrown into confusion.  The city doesn’t know what to do with such a command – to obey or resist.

The focus now turns to Esther and Mordecai.  The fate of the Jews hangs on their courage and resourcefulness.  It is striking that the author continues to avoid any mention of God, even in this moment of extreme danger.  It is righteous human action that must save the day.  Mordecai and all the Jews put on sackcloth and ashes, the clothing of mourning.  Esther’s entourage tell her about Mordecai and he reminds her that she will not escape death either and that maybe she is in this place for such a time as this.  Esther replies that she will fast and will go before the king, saying, “If I die, I die.” 

Esther approaches the king unbidden and invites him to a banquet.  He has such a good time that he offers her half of his kingdom.  She invites him to another banquet, obliging his favour to her.  Esther’s two banquets of intervention contrast the king’s two banquets of indulgence at the beginning of the book.  Here we see a biblical tradition at work, where God uses powerless women to carry out divine purposes as in Ruth the Moabite and indeed, Mary of Nazareth. 

Haman is happy about being invited to Esther’s banquets but is filled with rage at Mordecai’s resistance.  Haman’s wife tells him to build a gallows for Mordecai, which will become his own gallows. Haman is a sterling example of the foolish man warned against in Proverbs 27, “Whoever digs a pit will fall into it, and a stone will come back on the one who starts it rolling.”  Wisdom assumes that God rewards those who act wisely.  The focus is on human action, rather than divine intervention.  God does not have to be mentioned, since the righteous moral program will work itself out without direct divine action.  Self-interest stands in the way of people’s doing what is right.  Esther overcame her self-interest and hers is a moral as well as political victory.  At her second banquet, she reveals her identity and Haman’s plot and for the first time, the king takes decisive action to have him hanged and his good plundered and given to Mordecai.  But Haman’s decree remains active and cannot be changed so Mordecai writes another edict for the Jews to defend themselves in a kind of holy war.  And so the victims become the victors in an extravagant and repulsive violence.

Commentators debate whether chapters 9-10 originally belonged to the book of Esther.  Martin Luther declared about the book of Esther, “I am so hostile to this book that I wish it did not exist, for it has too much heathen naughtiness.”  It is particularly difficult to reconcile this vengeance with the Christian notions of forgiveness.  It is a case of do unto others as they would have done unto you.  The purpose of the story is that those who wished to destroy the Jews are instead themselves destroyed, thus establishing the Festival of Purim.  Purim is still celebrated today in synagogues, a Mardi Gras style celebration with people dressing up as the main characters and reading the story of Esther with the audience hissing every time the name of Haman is read.  Esther inspires Jewish courage and justice and begs the question of all listeners, in the face of injustice – what would you do?

This is precisely why Christians should also read and discuss Esther, even on the third Sunday of Advent.   Jesus himself barely escaped his first pogrom of all the Jewish boys of Bethlehem and indeed his life ends by such a decree by King Herod.  Like Esther’s banquet, Jesus’ banquet served others, not himself.  Like Esther, Jesus was always in control of the banquet as host and servant, despite the betrayal in the room.  Like Esther, he wasn’t passive but actively intervening despite the risk with the same “if I die, I die,” attitude and refusing violent self-defense.  The Esther story could have turned out differently with such Jesus-like, non-violent intervention if the city of Susa instead of being confused, simply refused, saying, “We won’t do it.  We won’t kill Jews and take their stuff and if we die, we die.” 

There are plenty of stories in history where courageous people, Jews and Christians alike stood up for justice without violence.  During the roundup of male Jews in Berlin in 1940, their wives marched down to the prison and demanded their release; blocking prison doors, wailing and making a ruckus until the SS released their husbands.  When the Jews in Denmark were forced to wear the yellow star of David, all the Danes, including the King worse the yellow star of David.  Corrie Ten Boom’s family hid Jews in Holland because of their Christian faith.  As did the Catholics of Le Chambon, Vichy France.  When the Nazis tried to found up the Bulgarian Jews in Sophia, the patriarch of the Orthodox church linked arms with them and said in the word of Ruth, “Your people, my people, your God, my God.”  Not a single Bulgarian Jew was deported or executed during the whole war because of the intervention of Bulgarian Christians.  The Holocaust never could have happened if every European Christian refused cooperation with Haman-like decrees. 

We need to be telling the stories of Christian non-violent resistance of evil because each one of us will be called upon to stand up for someone sometime – each one of us will be called on for such a time as this - even if it is standing up to the bully at school or the work lunchroom.  Even at our peaceable Mennonite Nursing Home, I’m shocked by comments made in the lunchroom.  Sometimes I’m so shocked I’m silent, but sometimes my voice shakes as I say, “Well, actually, I have a few gay cousins who are devoutly Christian or I have gotten to know a few First Nations people who impress me with their commitment to family.”  There is always an awkward silence as conversation grinds to a halt and everyone looks down the long lunch table at me but if I don’t say it, who will?

May God grant each one of us the courage and wisdom of Esther and Mary this Advent season in our homes, schools and work.  Amen.