Ruth and Esther — Unit 7

Heavenly Father, thank You for today. We pray that You would come into our presence now, teach us what You would have us know, fill us with Your Holy Spirit, and effect the changes in us that You want to see, so that we are made more and more into Your image. We pray these things in Your Son's name and for His glory. Amen.

We're still in the downhill stretch of Esther; our villain comes into this section, so it's an interesting time. Last week we had the brief, wonderful “Esther becomes queen and all is right with the world” moment, and today we dive in with Esther 2:21 through 4:3.

Observations

Mordecai was clearly considered an elder, because he sat at the king's gate — he is in some sort of judicial or official position, most likely given to him once Esther became queen. Marcy smiled to herself at how Haman prospers and how it's all going to come crashing down; it can be discouraging to watch evil people prosper, but here it won't last. Marcy also noted that in chapter three Mordecai refuses to bow to Haman, but the text doesn't say why — and remember, God is not mentioned anywhere in this book, which tells us a non-Jew (or at least a Jewish sympathizer) most likely wrote it. We'll look at several possible reasons for his refusal today, because that refusal starts the whole thing.

Mordecai and Esther were brought into the citadel of Susa during the Babylonian captivity — that's how they got there in the first place, before Esther's beauty ever entered the story. When Persia took over Babylon, they were there. In fact, it's generally assumed that Mordecai was a person of wealth, or even royalty, because he came in with the first group, with Jehoiachin, the king of Judah at the time. So it's very possible he arrived with a great deal of wealth.

So Mordecai is sitting at the gate in an official position — which carries over from the Book of Ruth, where Boaz goes to the town gate to gather ten witnesses for the kinsman-redeemer matter. While there, Mordecai learns of a plot by two of the king's eunuchs who guarded the door to assassinate the king. That's highly believable: Xerxes is something of a mad, volatile king — you never knew what you'd get on a given day. In external history, Xerxes is eventually assassinated by his prime minister, who then puts his son Artaxerxes on the throne — only a couple of years after this. We know nothing of the two eunuchs beyond their names, but their names are recorded for posterity.

Importantly, Mordecai reports the plot to Esther, who informs the king on Mordecai's behalf — that's huge, because it comes into play later. It gets recorded in the king's chronicles (his diary), but nothing is done at that time to honor Mordecai, which is a significant slight, since he just saved the king's life. The two men are hung on the gallows — and “gallows” is a polite word here; it's not a noose, but impalement on a spike, the body left in the city as a deterrent. A common Persian execution.

Then Xerxes honors Haman, our villain, who comes into the story as an Agagite. Some commentators say “Agagite” means he came from a province in Media called Agag; I lean toward the others, who connect it to the old, standing hatred between the Jews and the Amalekites, whom Agag headed. Whether this book is historical fiction or non-fiction, the writer clearly wants to emphasize the anti-Semitism between Haman and Mordecai, and likening Haman to one of the Jews' major enemies would be instantly understood by Jews of that era. We also know the book is written largely to establish the Feast of Purim, so it makes sense to set them up as mortal enemies.

So why does Mordecai refuse to bow? Several possibilities: first, the ancient animosity between the Amalekites and the Jews; second, that he wouldn't bow to anyone but God — though we've seen Jews bow and even prostrate themselves before people elsewhere in the Old Testament (the brothers before Joseph, Bathsheba and Nathan before Solomon), so the question is whether Haman was demanding some kind of divine recognition, in which case Mordecai's refusal would make sense; third, simple disdain for Haman's arrogance — but if it were only that, why would Mordecai give being Jewish as the reason? Fourth, that Haman's anti-Semitism was already well known to Mordecai, which is very likely. Ted offered another angle: poor people tend not to envy one another — a poor person whose neighbor lacks food brings food over — whereas the wealthy can resent one another (Tina: “keeping up with the Joneses”). With 127 provinces and a melting pot of peoples, not everyone is going to get along. Honestly, we don't know; it would all be supposition. But the refusal is what sets things in motion.

Once it's brought to Haman's attention that Mordecai won't bow, he becomes furious — and he doesn't just want to punish Mordecai; he wants to take it out on all the Jews. That's enormous anti-Semitism, which lends credence to the ancient-enemies theory. Then comes the casting of “Pur.” Casting Pur was done at the beginning of every year — like throwing dice, or more accurately a kind of bone-divination (scapulimancy), throwing bones to discern the future. They keep casting Pur to decide when to annihilate the Jews; it happens in the first month of the twelfth year of Xerxes' reign, and the date that falls is eleven months later. That's fair warning — and I'd say it's God's providence: lots can happen in a full year.

Proverbs 16:33 captures it: “The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord.” That's exactly what's happening with the casting of Pur. Even pagans like Haman think they're trusting their own gods, when God says very clearly, “No, that's my job.” We saw the same in Acts, when they cast lots to replace Judas Iscariot, expecting God to make the decision. It's striking that here Haman thinks he's casting lots to his gods, and it's the God of the Jews who makes the decision. (When we worked in Cuba, those practicing Santería did something very similar with chicken bones — the same kind of scapulimancy.)

So Haman goes to the king to plead for permission. Notice what he leaves out: he never mentions that it's the Jews — so from the king's point of view, he's probably thinking these are insurrectionists, not an entire people. Keep in mind the previous Persian kings were quite fond of the Jews — “go back, build your temple, and we'll pay for it.” Haman tells a half-truth: he says they practice their own laws (true) and don't obey the king's laws (false — they were law-abiding), which sounds like a threat. And he offers a bribe — 10,000 talents of silver, about 750,000 pounds, some 12 million ounces of silver. (The Persian Empire used silver as its monetary standard.) Clearly he expects to loot the Jews as he kills them, because even as wealthy as he is, he probably doesn't have that kind of money — and many Jews had come into Persia wealthy, with twelve years under Xerxes alone to prosper, so much so that many didn't want to go back to Jerusalem to rebuild the temple.

The king, clearly in one of his more manic moods, signs off on the decree and even tells Haman to keep the money — a surprising amount to wave off. In verse 10: “The king took his signet ring from his finger and gave it to Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite, the enemy of the Jews.” That's the first of many times Haman is called the enemy of the Jews — significant; whether from Amalekite descent or personal prejudice, he was truly an anti-Semite. The decree goes out on the thirteenth day of the first month: all the Jews are to be annihilated in one day, the thirteenth day of the twelfth month.

Doesn't giving them a year's notice seem foolish — couldn't they just flee? But consider the size of the Persian Empire. They wouldn't flee to Greece (Xerxes had warred with Greece; they'd be killed at the border). Rome at that time was in its Republic stage, and they may not even have known of it. The only other empires were the Zhou dynasty in China and Mesoamerica. So technically they could flee, but where would they go? And we'll see this all comes to a head within two months anyway. Incidentally, both the thirteenth of the first month and the thirteenth of the twelfth were ominous — thirteen was considered a bad omen in Persia, much as we skip the thirteenth floor.

So Haman and the king sit down to drink a toast over their plan, even though the king doesn't yet know it's the Jews. Meanwhile, the people of the city are bewildered — the translations vary (perplexed, agitated, bewildered) — they're in a tizzy, wondering what in the world is going on. Mordecai's reaction: he tears his clothes, puts on sackcloth, sits in ashes, and wails. How must he feel? Gutted — as though it's all on him: “If I had not had this animosity toward Haman and done what I was told, I wouldn't have caused this.” He recognizes the Jews may be annihilated because of something he did or didn't do.

Keep in mind that under the previous Persian kings the Jews had enjoyed great prosperity and been encouraged to worship their God by rebuilding the temple — so this would have come as a complete shock, especially to those in Jerusalem: “Wait a minute, we're rebuilding the temple because your previous king said we could.” Now they have a target on their backs simply for who they are. Why didn't they flee? Perhaps, like many Jews at the beginning of Nazism, they thought their wealth would protect them, or that surely this could not be true. Ted offered a parallel: in World War II it tended to be the intellectuals and the tradesmen who left Germany, while the wealthy Jews stayed because they felt protected — they didn't feel threatened. It occurred to me as I worked through this that the Jews in Susa may simply have assumed they'd somehow be protected — or, worse, that this was God's judgment upon them. Whatever the case, they're still there, and they're mourning. (The decree goes out on the thirteenth day of the first month; the counter-decree will come on the twenty-third day of the third month — so the dread is comparatively short-lived, though at this point they're all still trying to figure out what to do.)

As someone added, sometimes you're just numb — and that's it. Many of them sit in sackcloth and ashes in complete shock. Everybody's grief takes a different path: some are moved to action quickly, others not.

Interpretation

Nothing is done to honor Mordecai for saving the king's life — highly unusual. Can we assume God's hand is on this? That's what I love about God's providence: He can work through the ordinary in a way that doesn't appear to be a miracle. As Ted put it, so often what we interpret as a setback is one of the greatest gifts God can give us — if he had gotten a tenure-track position stateside, he wouldn't be here, and this is clearly much better. Setbacks can look insurmountable, yet often they're God's plan putting you right where you need to be.

Remember, the Jews are God's chosen people — it's in our best interest not to feud with them, and in fact it's in our best interest to be at peace with all men (Romans 12:18). That's an important point to remember when we live in a country or empire that is a melting pot of ethnicities. Christ showed no favoritism, especially on the cross, when He said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” We would do well to emulate that. This text clearly shows that disdain for someone — for whatever reason — leads to ruin: Mordecai's disdain for Haman and Haman's disdain for the Jews can burgeon into something larger, even into war. We've seen it happen many times; it's part of how World War I began. This is why Jesus reminds us to pray for our enemies. Our faith is to be lived outward and upward, not inward, thinking of our own best interests; when we put others above ourselves, we are most like Christ. Had Haman or Mordecai behaved that way, this wouldn't have happened.

Even when it seems like a game of chance — as in casting Pur — God is still in control, working out His divine providence. Another interpretation: rash decisions, decisions made in anger, decisions made without seeking the truth and fully understanding the situation, are never our best. Mordecai, Haman, and the king are all guilty of such decisions — the king never even asked who the people were. As Ted said, we're supposed to act in love, and love takes time; that's how we should base our decisions. It's always best not to celebrate until the victory is certain — and pride goes before the fall (Proverbs 16). Finally, when we receive bad news, what should our first action be? Wait — and I'd add, prayerfully wait, in active waiting, because God will work out His plans; He always does.

Application

We as humans — even nations — tend to define ourselves by a hostile “other.” Ted pointed to Edward Said's book Orientalism: the West has tended to look down on other cultures it once called “Oriental” (meaning anything that wasn't Western), defining ourselves by what we are not — and building ourselves up by putting others down. There always seems to need to be someone we are fighting against: Republicans versus Democrats, Christians versus Muslims, the U.S. versus Russia, the cool kids versus the nerds, the legalists versus the grace-oriented. We have real differences, but that doesn't make us sworn enemies — we are all made in the image of God. No matter what you believe or how you live, God desires that none should perish, but that all come to eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord, and He calls us to pray for our enemies.

As we've been hitting again and again in the Acts class — whether it's Peter or Paul proclaiming the gospel to the Gentiles — they believed and the Holy Spirit came upon them; it wasn't that they first had to straighten up their act and get everything perfectly in line. Salvation came, and then the Holy Spirit brought the conviction. We don't make the judgment, and we forget that. He asks us to love those who persecute us — Christ on the cross, pleading, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” We would do well to remember this and walk humbly in the power of the Holy Spirit, rather than being fueled by hurt, bitterness, anger, or feelings of betrayal. Pray for my enemies; pray for those who wish me harm; pray for those who believe differently than I do; pray for those who are simply reacting from their gut. Often it's far easier said than done.

In short: when I doubt, when I'm afraid, when I seek understanding, when I feel downcast or trodden upon, when I feel hurt and betrayal, when I feel weak or insignificant — I need to be on my knees in prayer, because that is where truth comes in, through Scripture and through prayer. That is where I encounter the immeasurable love of God; that is where I gain strength and understanding; and that is where I can rest assured that I am walking the path my God has set before me, instead of walking my own. As Ted said, if you're walking a path of hatred, you're not walking with your Lord.

Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, thank You for being with us in this time to delve into Your word; we thank You for how You are always teaching us and helping us to grow in You. May we never quench the Holy Spirit's work within us. We pray now, as we go forth, that we would honor and glorify You in all that we do and say. It's in Your Son's name that we pray. Amen.