Stephen
Terry, Director
Esther
and Mordecai
Commentary
for the December 23, 2023, Sabbath School Lesson
"When Esther's words were reported
to Mordecai, 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. 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?'" Esther
3:13-14, NIV
While in the Army, I was
stationed for two years, in the early 1970s, at Fort Wainwright outside of
Fairbanks, Alaska. It was an isolated posting. I have not been back since, so I
do not know how things are today, but back then radio and television
entertainment was limited. It was therefore more of a challenge to find alternatives
to winter boredom with the very short days and exceedingly
long nights as well as the limitations caused by extremely cold temperatures. I
was married in December of 1974 and the entire week before my wedding the
temperature hovered around 50 degrees below zero Fahrenheit. At those
temperatures, the tires on a parked vehicle freeze with a flat spot where they
meet the parking pavement. So, when a car goes down the road, the tires go "Thump,
thump, thump!" until they become warm enough from friction to become round
again. Despite these challenges we had to find ways to entertain ourselves in
the far north.
I did a lot of cross-country
skiing. There were two ski trails on Fort Wainwright, a five-mile and a ten-mile
trail. Since we were an arctic unit, we were encouraged to ski as much as
possible. My first time skiing, I was worried I might freeze to death at those
temperatures so I bundled up, but I discovered that once I got going on the
trail, I generated so much body heat that all the extra clothing became a
useless burden as I stripped my coat and shirt, leaving only my long underwear
top. I did not make that mistake the second time.
The skiing was beautiful, and we
often went out in small groups. Since nighttime darkness surrounded us, the Northern
Lights were brilliant when they were out. They seemed so close that we could
touch them. Moonlight brought a special splendor. At those temperatures, the
air would freeze, covering the pine trees with millions of droplets of ice.
Those droplets would shimmer in the moonlight and the entire forest would be
alive with natural Christmas Trees. At times when skiing through this frozen
wonderland, an Arctic Fox would greet us in his white winter coat, reminding us
that it was possible for life to thrive even in such cold. These were pleasant
memories, but half a century later, I doubt I could manage the challenges that
my younger self took on with ease.
Another memory that has remained
with me through the decades was a Sabbath memory. Before I went to Alaska, I served
at Fort Bliss outside of El Paso, Texas. At that time, I attended the Central
Seventh-day Adventist Church on McRae Boulevard. One of the events I looked forward
to each week was Sabbath Vespers where a group of church members would gather on
Friday evening to welcome in the Sabbath with hymn singing and viewing nature
slides. They did not have this in Fairbanks, Alaska, so I was at a loss for Sabbath
fellowship opportunities outside of church attendance and potlucks. There was a
bowling alley across the street from my barracks on base, but that was not the
kind of atmosphere that I was looking for on Sabbath. Eventually, I came across
a flier that announced that there was a Jewish service each Friday evening on
base. A Rabbi at Fort Richardson, outside of Anchorage, Alaska was traveling to
Fort Wainwright weekly. He flew by military hop over seven hundred miles round
trip to minister to a handful of Jewish service members on our base. Curious, I
decided to attend and see what we had in common with these fellow Sabbath
keepers. As luck would have it, that exploratory visit was when they were
celebrating Purim.
Purim is where they read aloud,
as they do annually, the book of Esther. I was familiar with Esther, but not
the celebrations surrounding it. I was handed a noisemaker and instructed that every
time the name of the villain, Haman, was mentioned, I was to shout "Boo!" and
make lots of noise with the noisemaker. Since Haman is mentioned frequently,
this happened often. Esther was a Jewess who became queen in Persia. A royal
courtier, Haman, became incensed when Esther's uncle Mordecai refused to bow
down to him. He decided to do away with Mordecai and discovering that Mordecai
was a Jew, he decided to do away with all Jews as well. At Mordecai's urging,
Esther intercedes with King Xerxes, and the king destroys Haman and his family
as Haman sought to do with Mordecai and the Jews. Xerxes also signs a decree
for the Jews to rise up against those who sought to destroy them and promoted
Mordecai to the royal court. In celebration of this deliverance, Jews revisit
this story each year and after the reading and noisemaking have concluded, indulge
in a special treat - cookies called Hamantaschen or "Haman's Pockets." Others
refer to them as Onzie Haman or "Haman's Ears." One tradition says that the triangular
shape of the cookies mimics a tri-corner hat Haman was supposed to have worn.
Another tradition says it was the shape of Haman's ears. Whatever tradition one
clings to, the cookies were delicious. All these decades later, I have not
forgotten the experience.
While stories like Esther's can
provide hope and encouragement in the face of life-threatening challenges, we may
be jaded because we know that is not how life always plays out, even for the faithful.
Even the Bible has examples where the faithful were not delivered. One example
is the prophet Isaiah who was sawn in two at the order of the wicked King
Manasseh.[i]
Jesus also tells us of the prophet Zechariah "murdered between the temple and
the altar."[ii] A
third example is John the Baptist, beheaded by Herod. This last example is even
more puzzling for Jesus did nothing to prevent it.[iii] We
find a sharp contrast between the verses from Daniel and Esther that show God's
people being delivered from mortal danger and these
instances where they were not. If we look at the lives of the leaders in the early
Christian church, we see similar challenges to the God-will-deliver-you
narrative. Many died as martyrs while persecuted by Rome and even by their
fellow Jews as Stephen experienced when he was stoned to death[iv] with
Paul looking on before he had his Damascus Road conversion. "Foxe's Book of
Martyrs" abounds with stories of similar deaths occurring after the Bible goes
silent on the further history of such incidents. Despite the words of Psalm 91,[v] assuring
us of God's protection of those who are faithful, why are there so many martyrs
crying out for justice in chapter 6 of the Book of Revelation?[vi]
When we see contradictions like this, it is understandable why some turn away
from God, especially if they have not seen deliverance from challenges they
have faced while trying to remain faithful. But that is problematic as well.
If we deny God's existence, we end
up asking ourselves, "Is this all there is?" Is it like Shakespeare's character
Macbeth said, "Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and
frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by
an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing?" Without purpose, the
only answer to some may seem to simply exit, stage left. Are we only to be
subjects of pity, without meaning, biological accidents blooming for our short
existence and despite all protesting to the contrary, no more significant than
any single grain among billions of similar grains of sand on the beach? Is it
simply a conceit to claim we are more than that?
Something inside us revolts at
that thought. When we see injustice, we innately know it is wrong. Not because the
Bible tells us so, but because we have felt the sting of injustice ourselves
and recognized it as unnatural. It is that sense of right and wrong that brings
us to reject a world without justice. When we read the words of Christ, we see
someone who speaks in harmony with what our hearts are lamenting, the lack of
compassion, empathy, justice, and love. Our hearts cry out for this, and we are
not alone. Thousands came to see Jesus because he resonated with that cry. He
told us no matter how terrible things look, do not give up.[vii]
It is this faithfulness that spoke from the hearts of Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego when faced with being cast into a brick kiln to be burned alive. Their
response to the king who would do such a thing was "King Nebuchadnezzar, we do
not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into
the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he
will deliver us from Your Majesty's hand. But even if he does not, we want you
to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of
gold you have set up."[viii]
God did deliver them, but that did not matter. They were determined to maintain
their relationship with God even if he did not deliver them. Would we choose to
do the same?