"Third Day" Stories and Us ~ Esther chs. 5-6

 

This is a third day story (5:1). God loves “third day” stories, “third day” problems. The Bible is filled with them.

Abraham was stopped from offering Isaac by an angel on the third day (Gen. 22:4-19). Laban was stopped from harming Jacob by a divine word in a dream on the third day (Gen. 31:22-32). On the third day, Jonah was delivered from the belly of a fish (Jonah 1:17, 2:10). Hosea will proclaim of the LORD “after two days he will revive us; on the third day he will restore us, that we may live in his presence. Let us acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear” (Hosea 6:2-3). And who can forget, who can forget!, “For as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of a huge fish, so the Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth” (Matt. 12:40; 1 Cor. 15:4). Which day do you find yourself in today? Take a moment – on which of the three days do you find yourself now. What do you want to say to God about it? What might you need to remember? Listen. It’s easy to be glib. It’s easy to say “third day problems” and “God is good” and skip along, all the while shoving down the pain in our stomach, the scream in our throat. It’s easy to be glib when it’s someone else’s “third day” problem. 

So 2 quick remarks: 

1) First, Jesus – the faithful one, the one who lived perfectly and loved God fully - cried, wept, shouted, wailed – about “third day” problems. When his friend Lazarus died, Jesus even as he expressed faith in the goodness of God, the promise of life, wept (John 11:35). On the cross, Jesus – the faithful one, who lived perfectly and loved God fully - cried, wept, shouted and wailed - Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”). (Matt 27:46). He shouted these things at God and you can too. You can be faithful and cry about three day problems.  

2) You can still be afraid, still be upset, still ask questions, and trust in faith that God determines your end. This isn’t the same thing as knowing exactly what will happen. This is not saying that, this side of heaven, everything will work out. But, it gives us courage to inhabit our story, to do what is right apart from immediate circumstances, because God is good. That’s why we need stories like Esther. It’s recognizing that the story always reads differently when you know the end. Clip from Free Solo from 2:26-3:27 . When you look at that how do you feel? Does it help to know that he doesn’t fall? 

That’s what the Bible does for us. It doesn’t tell us every thing that’s going to happen. It tells us that God is good and determines our end.

That’s the context. What about the characters? Let’s look at Esther, Haman, and then carefully for God.

1.     Esther the bravely prayerful, well-dressed, and strategic advocate.

Esther dangerously enters, unbidden into Xerxes’ presence. There is an ancient Persian relief in the city of Persepolis which depicts this danger showing an enthroned Persian king holding a long gold scepter and guarded by a soldier brandishing a large axe. Courage, Brene Brown says, “starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.” The NIV, like most English translations, renders the Hebrew as “Esther put on her royal robes,” but the more literal translation feels more appropriate: “She wore a kingdom.” Esther dressed to challenge Persian law as well as the king who upheld it and who supported Haman. Her bold act was symbolized by her putting on that which would help her be brave. What is that for you? What helps you be brave? My wife had a brave outfit for a certain season of her life when she needed a physical reminder of courage and strength. As Esther gets ready for battle take a moment and be reminded of your own. As she dresses for her challenge – take a breath and consider how you want to dress for your own. Though we don’t know what she’s thinking, can you imagine it?

Vs. 2 reflects a powerful change in the story. Before taking this courageous step she was referred to as Esther. But now she is “Queen Esther.” Now we find the repeated use of Esther’s name together with her royal title from this time forward as she takes up her title and role as deliverer of her people (5:3, 12; 7:1, 2, 3, 5, 7; 8:1, 7; 9:12). It’s courage that makes us Queens and Kings not marriage, money, family, or education.  

Esther does more than break the law and barge into the throne room unbidden. She also strategically communicates and shifts the center of power toward herself. In vs. 8 she uses deferential clauses, which seemingly place the power the king had given her by reminding him of what he had said: “If the king regards me with favor and if it pleases the king to grant my petition and fulfill my request” (5:8) and shifts the confrontation with Haman to her own quarters. She carefully crafts a plan to bolster the egos of both the king and Haman before blindsiding them by exposing the malevolent plot to kill all of the Jews. Esther, in other words, is more than a pretty face or an off-the-cuff-rabble-rouser. She thinks carefully about what she needs to do. She prayerfully uses her brain. Friends, it is a godly, spiritual thing to use your brain. It is a godly, spiritual thing to have a plan. It’s a godly, spiritual thing to think about how you communicate something and not simply what you communicate.  Esther’s courage and tactics should inspire us to take risk in order to do what is right but nevertheless to not act haphazardly but strategically. The story suggests that those, who like Esther find themselves in situations of power and gender imbalance, need to be wise and strategic in order to bring about the good. To recognize that we don’t control outcomes is not the same thing as simply leaving things up to chance. Those who participated in civil disobedience in the 1960s did more than pray- they also trained.

2.     Haman, the prideful, ego-centric, successful, fool.

Unlike Esther, Haman doesn’t fast, pray, or even think too strategically. Haman brags and thinks only of himself. In vss. 5:9-13, Haman enumerates his many accomplishments before his inner circle – the glory of his riches; his large family; his personal achievements, and his recent invitation to hob-knob with the Queen. But notice – he is not godly – that is, he doesn’t in any way care for others nor do they care for him and he has no satisfaction (vs. 13). Haman doesn’t enjoy these things for the pleasure that they give but more for the way they make him look. By the way, it’s not lost on me that Haman’s successes are often used by people, even in the church, to speak of God’s favor or an upstanding life. Friends, your character is not revealed by what you have or don’t have but rather by what you do – or even what you’re willing to lose in order to do what is right. The revelation of things that Haman truly cares about and values – wealth, recognition, and glory don’t necessarily make one a better person. In fact, sometimes good things have the allure of making one believe that he or she is good. Rather than a deferential vision of himself, like Esther, Haman’s own pride becomes the very source of his shame as he must do for Mordecai what he longed to do for himself.

3.     God, the silent, Gubernatorial actor.

As in the whole book, God, in chs. 5 & 6, is strangely absent and yet feels very much a part of this story. For everything seems providential – or coincidental, which is the author’s own sneaky way of introducing God into the story. What are these coincidences? How many do you count?

·       The sleeplessness of the king

·       His decision to have the records of his reign read to him (in order to fall asleep)

·       The reading of the account of Mordecai thwarting the assassination attempt on his life

·       The timing of Haman’s entrance

·       Haman’s prideful attempt to name how he should be honored, which becomes how Mordecai will be honored

Esther chapter six describes a series of seeming coincidences that together provoke a momentous reversal of fortunes, suggesting that God is present, though perhaps unseen. Theologians often speak of three forms of such providence: Conservatio – the power of God to uphold actual existence and the natural order of the universe; Concursus – God acting directly in the lives of individuals; Gubernatio – God’s use of people as agents in the larger story of God bring about God’s final purposes.

Trusting in God’s providence doesn’t take away the pain and trauma of life. Esther experienced terrible suffering in losing her parents, being separated from her uncle, being trafficked and denied dreams of a future as a Jewish woman, wife, and mother. She did not have the big picture that we as readers of Scripture do to see the whole picture. If you had less than twenty seconds to grab her before chapter 5:2, right before she was to risk it all and enter before the king, what would you say to her?

And we don’t know our story fully either. We can’t see everything. We don’t know what God is doing. Which part of the Esther story are you currently in? What might you hear God whispering to you? By the way, if what you hear is accusatory, hurtful, alienating, shaming, that’s not God. I want to invite you to bring your story to God and ask to be brave.

Privilege "for such a time as this" ~ Esther 4

 

We have continued to ask the question: Is Esther a story for us? I hope that you are finding that being met with a resounding “yes” and perhaps no more so than today. Today, we are going to see how Esther chapter four helps us understand a concept that is too often misunderstood, hated, feared, and yet critical “for such a time as this.” We’re going to let the story of Esther teach us about the concept of privilege and see that the concept is not simply important as we seek to become anti-racist as a church but also one that is fundamentally Biblical. We are going to encounter the conversion of Esther who must learn to use her own position of privilege for the benefit of those in need, even at the expense of her own comfort and safety. Let’s dig in.

4 When Mordecai learned of all that had been done, he tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and ashes, and went out into the city, wailing loudly and bitterly. ² But he went only as far as the king’s gate, because no one clothed in sackcloth was allowed to enter it. ³ In every province to which the edict and order of the king came, there was great mourning among the Jews, with fasting, weeping and wailing. Many lay in sackcloth and ashes.

In our first three verses there are two striking realities, two amazing contrasts: On the one hand, is the pervasive lament and fear of Mordecai and the Jewish people. We have Mordecai wailing in the streets and Jews “in every province” in “great mourning” laying in sackcloth and ashes. This is nothing less than an empire wide movement of pain and protest. On the other hand, despite this widespread weeping and wailing – Esther doesn’t weep because she doesn’t know. She remains unintentionally ignorant “because no one clothed in sackcloth was allowed to enter” the palace. Privilege and power often seek to silence or erase lament. Intolerance of public displays of emotion and sorrow by troubled or uncooperative citizens fits with what we know about Xerxes’s need to be surrounded by order, beauty, and luxury. Limiting direct access to royalty was a common way of restricting their exposure to problems or danger. The Greek historian Herodotus notes that the Persian king, Deioces, “was first to establish the rule that no one should come into the presence of the king, but everything should be done by means of messengers.”

Privilege smothers dissent, keeping problems hidden, keeping marginal voices out. It insulates us from realities that others experience. It can even leave us wondering if such things are even true. It’s what happens when people of color talk about negative experiences with law enforcement or instances of racism in public spaces or at work. I recently read an account of a black student at George Fox who was pulled over on three separate occasions to see if he was wearing a seatbelt. Friends, an indicator of privilege is when others weep about danger, mistreatment, pain, and we don’t know.

The act of lament in Esther functions in two ways. I will mention the first one now and the second one later, even though both realities are present together throughout. The first purpose of lament is that it aims to make injustice visible and create a setting for change. Dominique Gilliard, the Director of Racial Righteousness and Reconciliation for our denomination, says “Lamentation begets revelation.” Mordecai’s lament is a staged public response to make Haman’s plot visible and garner the support of Esther and the Persians against this genocidal edict. His protest also assumes a theology of human-divine cooperation that understands that humans facing dire circumstances must initiate game plans to save themselves.

⁴ When Esther’s eunuchs and female attendants came and told her about Mordecai, she was in great distress. She sent clothes for him to put on instead of his sackcloth, but he would not accept them. ⁵ Then Esther summoned Hathak, one of the king’s eunuchs assigned to attend her, and ordered him to find out what was troubling Mordecai and why.⁶ So Hathak went out to Mordecai in the open square of the city in front of the king’s gate. ⁷ Mordecai told him everything that had happened to him, including the exact amount of money Haman had promised to pay into the royal treasury for the destruction of the Jews. ⁸ He also gave him a copy of the text of the edict for their annihilation, which had been published in Susa, to show to Esther and explain it to her, and he told him to instruct her to go into the king’s presence to beg for mercy and plead with him for her people.

When we move to vss. 4-8, Esther’s journey of recognition and responsibility about privilege begins when she hears of Mordecai’s lamenting protest. And her first response is also a typical response of those with privilege. She becomes incredibly uncomfortable (vs. 4, the Hebrew word hyl translated “great distress” literally means to writhe or tremble). And in that fear she seeks not to discover what is going on but kindly tries stop her pain by ending Mordecai’s lament with a gift. Mordecai refuses. A number of years ago I became friends with someone from Kenya who was experiencing both overt and covert racism personally and institutionally. In one lamenting conversation where he poured out his heart to me about how he was trying to name and fight such indignities I shamefully offered the gift of good advice: “Perhaps the best strategy is to be nice.” Like Esther, I offered a gift that aimed to silence. “Mordecai, stop going around crying all the time, can’t you see that things aren’t so bad? Hey, put away your naked lament and put on some clothes, won’t that make you feel better? Brother, sister, can’t you see that your distress makes me tremble? This would all go better if you would simply play nice, dress appropriately, and please, o please, just shut up.” But Mordecai, we are told, “would not accept them.” Friends, the story of Esther reminds us that privilege also seeks to force those in pain to play nice before they can be heard; to calm down and dress up, before any conversation can happen. We must not allow our fear of disruption to keep us from listening to our brothers and sisters in pain. But thankfully, Esther is learning. Praise God, for Esther is starting to become aware signalled by that o so important word, “then” in vs. 5. And what is Esther’s first move toward using her privilege well and becoming the advocate that God is calling her to be? What is the “then”? She sought “to find out what was troubling Mordecai and why.” And that’s been our journey as a church. It’s why we read Rediscipling the White Church in small groups. It’s why we engaged our Anti-racism Discipleship Pathway created by Dominique Gilliard, which anyone can engage on our website. It’s why we have a Racial Righteousness Team. It’s not our last step toward becoming anti-racist. We don’t imagine that by learning about racial injustice we are done. No, “finding out what’s troubling and why” is the first Biblical step of those with privilege. And Mordecai tells his story, it says, and sent her facts – the text of the edict. We must listen and do our own research. It’s important to recognize that even learning is a challenging experience, especially for those who are lamenting. Mordecai will take the extra brave effort to oblige Esther’s request to tell “everything that had happened to him,” even providing her with a copy of the edict but we must not put the burden on those who are oppressed to always be our teachers. We must give thanks for the Mordecais who take the terribly burdensome step of educating us while in deep pain. We must also strive to resource our own learning and learn to stand in their stead.

⁹ Hathak went back and reported to Esther what Mordecai had said. ¹⁰ Then she instructed him to say to Mordecai, ¹¹ “All the king’s officials and the people of the royal provinces know that for any man or woman who approaches the king in the inner court without being summoned the king has but one law: that they be put to death unless the king extends the gold scepter to them and spares their lives. But thirty days have passed since I was called to go to the king.”

In vss. 9-11 we begin to get to the heart of the challenge and often one of the more misunderstood elements of what privilege does and doesn’t mean. Many folks who encounter the term "privilege" often rightfully wish to point out that they too suffer, that they also struggle, that they too have aches. And that’s true. No one could accuse Esther of simply having an easy life: she was present in the Empire due to forced migration and war, she was an orphan, she was trafficked as a sex slave, and is now being asked to put her life on the line. Using one’s privilege still has a cost, a price, a danger. She could have easily said, “I didn’t do this. It’s not my fault. I’ve suffered too.”  But despite these suffering realities, she also knows that she has power that others, including Mordecai, do not. Despite all these troubles, she has access to resources that others do not. Despite all her trembling, she has a choice to stand up or flee that others do not. And that’s what privilege means. What will she do? Will she break the law and risk her life? Or, will she look the other way, mind her own business, worry about herself, and let others reap the horrors of injustice that she is privileged to potentially avoid.

¹² When Esther’s words were reported to Mordecai, ¹³ he sent back this answer: “Do not think that because you are in the king’s house you alone of all the Jews will escape. ¹⁴ For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?”¹⁵ Then Esther sent this reply to Mordecai: ¹⁶ “Go, gather together all the Jews who are in Susa, and fast for me. Do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my attendants will fast as you do. When this is done, I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish.” ¹⁷ So Mordecai went away and carried out all of Esther’s instructions.

Mordecai will argue to Esther in vs. 14 that her privilege, in this instance that not necessarily true of all privilege, was there by design, at this time, to aid others. He encourages her to see "privilege" not as something to feel guilty about but something intended by God for the present moment. The challenge is that God is at work in our lives and calls us to use our privilege for others. John Newton, the converted slave trader, is known to have challenged William Wilberforce, who wished to leave British politics, saying: “God has raised you up for the good of the church and the good of the nation, maintain your friendship with Pitt, continue in Parliament, who knows that but for such a time as this God has brought you into public life and has a purpose for you.”Mordecai threatens that if she fails to act (lit. “is completely silent”) God will use someone else and she will not be spared. If we don’t, we all will fall. Racism is the downfall of us all. Esther must stand with both Vashti and Mordecai in their disobedience to the king’s orders and rise above the law that mandates order, power, and silence.

Esther’s response is to ask Mordecai “to gather all the Jews who are in Susa, and fast for me” brings us to our second purpose for lament. Lament, weeping and fasting, was a well-worn path of prayer to God to express hope that God will hear and bring deliverance. Mordecai’s own remarks and Esther’s response, hearken to another text that reminds us who God is, Joel 2:12-15:

“Even now,” declares the Lord,
    “return to me with all your heart,
    with fasting and weeping and mourning.”

¹³ Rend your heart
    and not your garments.
Return to the Lord your God,
    for he is gracious and compassionate,
slow to anger and abounding in love,
    and he relents from sending calamity.
¹⁴ Who knows? He may turn and relent
    and leave behind a blessing—
grain offerings and drink offerings
    for the Lord your God.

¹⁵ Blow the trumpet in Zion,
    declare a holy fast,
    call a sacred assembly.

So lament and fasting are the deep recognition of faith that our plans are often mysteriously later recognized as God’s plan. Such a theology encourages us to act and yet also calls us to pray aware of God’s hand behind the surprises, coincidences, and reversals that are part of God’s larger plan. We don’t exactly know what will happen but we know that God is good.

In all this Esther reveals the power of privilege as God intended. Privilege is responding to the call to use whatever power one has received on behalf of others.