In the Bible, we are never simply speaking humanly. Even in a book like Esther, where God’s name is never mentioned and the characters in the story (including His own people) do their best to ignore His existence, He refuses to be written out of the script. Between the lines and behind the scenes, out of focus and incognito, the Lord continued to work to accomplish all His holy will. Esther 6 is a perfect case study in God’s way of working all things together for the good of His people, those whom He has called according to His purpose (see Rom. 8:28).

It all started with the king being unable to sleep (v. 1). The Bible gives no apparent reason for Ahasuerus’s insomnia. There seems to be reason for it, except God’s sovereign purpose to deliver His people. God’s sovereignty didn’t end with keeping the king awake. He also directed His choice of alternative activities for the night. In the absence of television, an insomniac like Ahasuerus had no lack of potential entertainments: food, drink, dancing girls…not to mention an enormous harem; all kind of pleasures waited at his disposal. Yet he chose instead to listen to a reading from government records the chronicles of his reign (v. 1). If anything would end Ahasuerus back to sleep, it was surely a monotone reading of his own life history!

In the midst of the reading, however, Ahasuerus found himself jolted wide awake. The scribe had come to the part where Mordecai had saved his life by revealing a plot against his life (v. 2). It made the king wonder: “What honor or distinction has been bestowed on Mordecai for this?” (v. 3). Persian kings were famous for their diligence in rewarding those who assisted them. The reply he received from his young attendants was shocking: “Nothing has been done for him” (v. 3).

We can almost picture the king leaping out of bed impulsively – everything Ahasuerus did was impulsive – and striding out of the royal bedchamber in dawn’s early light, trailing servants behind him. For all his impulsiveness, the king is helpless without his advisors. So, he asks his servants, “Who is in the court?” (v. 4). In other words, which of my counselors is around to tell me what to do? Normally at this time in the morning there well have been no one in the courtyard. But divine providence had been moving the other pieces into place as well, and Haman was in the courtyard, early though it was (vv. 4-5).

Haman had come for an entirely different purpose, intending to speak to the king about hanging Mordecai on his spike so that he could enjoy the rest of the day. Thus, he probably thought it a lucky moment when he was called in to see the king so early; for unlike Esther, he wasn’t about to risk his life by appearing unsummoned before Ahasuerus. As events would prove, it wasn’t a lucky moment at all, but rather a providential moment, and Providence had something far different in mind for him than Haman expected. In a delicious irony, Haman himself was asked what should be done (v. 6).

In making his request for advice, the king left out the crucial piece of information about who was to be honored, just as Haman himself had left out the crucial piece of information about the identity of the people to be destroyed in chapter 3. Haman was not slow mentally to fill in the blank, however, and with his own name (v. 6). Haman cut right to the chase, rolling the delicious words around on his tongue, savoring their sweetness: “For the man whom the king delights to honor…” (v. 7). His request was exactly what we would have expected, given the idolatry of public recognition that we saw in the past chapter. All he wanted was to be treated like the king in public (vv. 8-9).

Then reality rained on Haman’s parade in verse 10. The honors that he coveted above all else were actually to be bestowed on Mordecai the Jew, his prime enemy, and, worst of all, he personally would be the one to proclaim Mordecai’s elevation (v. 11). Haman’s own words had come back to haunt him, and the phrase he had so delighted to pronounce must have tasted like ashes in his mouth by the end of a long day of shouting it in front of Mordecai. His dream day had turned into his worst nightmare.

At the end of the day, the two men went their separate ways. For his part, Mordecai “returned to the king’s gate” (v. 12). He seems to have been virtually unaffected by the day’s events. We get the sense that for Mordecai, this was nothing special. Mordecai’s nemesis, on the other hand, was completely mortified: “Haman hurried to his house, mourning and with his head covered” (v. 12). Nor did Haman find much comfort when he got home. His wife and his other advisors had suddenly become the bearers of theological wisdom. Since Mordecai was of Jewish descent, Haman’s chances of overcoming him were nonexistent (v. 13).

This was potentially a Psalm 2 moment for Haman. His idolatry had been exposed as empty, his hatred of the Lord’s people shown to be vain. Now was the time to be wise, bow down, and kiss the son, submitting to the Lord and His anointed one, lest he be destroyed along the way (Ps. 2:12). But Haman was given little time to reflect on his foolish ways (v. 14).

What can we learn from this chapter of Esther? In the first place, once again we see the invisible hand of God changing the course of history. Yes, it’s an oxymoron to say that we see an invisible hand, but as other invisible objects (like the wind), sometimes the trail in its wake is unmistakable. So too, here in the Book of Esther, God’s work of providence is so clear that even the pagans cannot miss its significance. Even Haman’s friends are not so dense as to write off this day’s events as mere coincidence: they know that all this must be attributed to the intervention of Israel’s God, and that once He becomes involved in the world, the final outcome is never in doubt. Haman will now surely fall to destruction.

From the beginning of chapter 6 onward, the enemies of God’s people are on the run and God’s people are on the upswing – not because of their bold faith and fearless action, but simply because of a sleepless night. Esther is completely absent from this decisive chapter and Mordecai is merely a passive participant, but God is invisibly turning things around and restoring His people’s fortunes. In a way, help is arising from another place (see 4:14), in such a way as to make it clear that their deliverance is entirely from God! Yet this decisive intervention by God’s sovereignty does not make human actions meaningless. Esther will still get her moment to stand up for God and His people, and God will use her courageous stand to bring Haman’s scheming to an end.

Haman unwillingly declared Mordecai’s honor. He was forced to declare his praise. So also, some will unwillingly declare the honor of Christ on the last day. But should we who are His people be unwilling to sing His praises? Should we be among those who are slow to glorify God and give thanks to the Lamb that was slain for us? How could we not exalt Christ in our hearts as Lord, even now? How can we grow tired of praising and shouting His excellence?

How too can we be slow to trust in God’s providence, seeing that He has sent His beloved Son to the cross in our place? Will He not also, along with Christ, give us everything we need for our growth in godliness (Rom. 8:32)? Maybe we are still in an “Esther 5” situation at the moment, surrounded by enemies on every side, whose plans against us seem to be succeeding. Though the evil empire does its worst, it cannot prevail against those who have taken refuge in Christ (Ps. 2:12). Ultimately, its raging will be in vain.

If we are exalting Christ as Lord in our hearts, and are trusting firmly in God’s providence to do what is good for our souls and to bring glory to Himself, why are we so troubled? Why are we so filled with doubts and fears about our own futures, or the future of our children, or the future of our churches? God will accomplish His purposes, often slowly and imperceptibly, but nonetheless certainly. Sometimes He will do it through human agents who willingly submit to Him. Sometimes He will do it by directing those whose hearts are at enmity to Him, so that their sinful motives accomplish His perfect purposes. Sometimes He will do it through the collaboration of a whole series of seemingly trivial circumstances. But in the light of the great and precious promises of God, this we know for sure: Our God will save His people. In light of the cross, we know that His salvation cannot be thwarted. In light of these heavenly realities, what is left for us to do but to bow our hearts and knees before Him and sing His praises?

Esther 6:1-14 Study Questions:

What evidences do you see of God’s hidden sovereignty and providence in this passage, even as He continues to remain unmentioned? As the passage opens (vv. 1-2), how is this similar to the glimpses we have seen of the hidden hand of God earlier in the story?

Haman immediately assumes that King Ahasuerus delights to honor him (v. 6). Why might he be assuming this, based on earlier details in the narrative? What are we told about Haman’s response to being forced to honor Mordecai in this way (v. 12)?

In some ways, the words of Haman’s wise men and his wife come the closest in the entire book to pointing to God’s hand in this story (v. 13). What do they tell Haman about his experience with Mordecai? How do they relate it to the role of the Jewish people?

What warnings should we take from this passage, as we observe the actions and words of Haman? How does Esther 6 point us forward to the gospel of Jesus Christ – and particularly to His final and ultimate exaltation?

At the end of Chapter 4, Esther declared her commitment to put her life on the line by appearing unsummoned before King Ahasuerus. Humanly speaking, such an act was playing Russian roulette, for those who appeared before the king without invitation were liable to immediate execution. This was no empty threat. Contemporary depictions of the Persian king excavated at Persepolis show him seated on his throne holding his scepter, flanked by various officials, including a soldier with an ax. The Jewish community fasted, along with Esther, and we hold our breath…

Chapter 5 quickly takes us to the resolution of that tension in verses 1-2. After her three-day fast, Esther dressed in her royal best and presented herself before the king. Against all expectations, she won favor in his sight and he extended the scepter to her in a gesture of recognition and welcome. The threat of death is now removed: Esther will not die, but live.

Actually, the direct threat to Esther’s life from King Ahasuerus may have been defused, but behind that threat was the far greater danger to Esther and her whole community posed by the edict to destroy the Jews. This decree was issued by Haman in the king’s name. It had now become law of the Medes and Persians, which according to custom could not be changed.

The difficulty of the task facing her seems to be the reason why Esther did not respond directly to the king’s invitation to unburden her heart. The king was doubtless aware of the enormity of the risk Esther had taken in appearing unbidden in his presence. Something important was clearly troubling her, so he invited her to name the request (v. 3). Nothing short of a miracle would enable Esther’s request to be favorably received, and even though she had spent three days fasting and (implicitly) requesting divine assistance, she was in no position to presume on extraordinary assistance from on high. Unlike Moses and Elijah, she had no dramatic signs and wonders that she could call upon to convince a skeptical audience. Instead, she would have to follow the best strategy she could come up with and rely on God to make it effective in changing the king’s heart.

In response to Ahasuerus’s invitation to unburden her soul, therefore, Esther merely invited her husband to come to a feast that she was arranging that day, bringing Haman in tow (v. 4). Ahasuerus kindly accepted Esther’s invitation (v. 5). At the feast, the king once again invited Esther to reveal her request (v. 6). Ahasuerus must have recognized that she hadn’t risked her life earlier in appearing before him simply in order to get a date for the evening! Once again, it seemed to be a prime opportunity: the wine had been served, the king was in a mood of expansive generosity, again offering Esther anything she desired, up to half his kingdom. Esther seemed almost about to comply (v. 7). But then she broke off and merely asked the king and Haman to come to another feast the next day, at which all supposedly would be revealed (v. 8).

Haman went out from the feast in high spirits, not just from the effects of alcohol but also from the intoxicating effects of prestige. What Haman craved above all things was not simply significance, but rather being seen to be significant. It was quite an accolade, he thought, that he alone was summoned to this unprecedented and intimate party with the king and queen. Surely his star was now rising to unparalleled heights.

It didn’t take much to spoil his happy mood, however, because on the way out of the banquet Haman saw Mordecai sitting calmly at his desk (v. 9). Once again Mordecai failed to show Haman proper respect by rising before him or trembling with fear in view of the recent edict. Haman’s failure to instill either fear or respect in his enemy popped his bubble and turned his joy into wrath. His emotional strings were being pulled by his idol, which was public respect. His joy and his anger were simply the outward expressions of his heart’s idolatry. For now, however, he simply bided his time (v. 10).

Once Home, Haman set about the task of boosting his dented ego. He summoned his friends and his wife and required them to listen to a lengthy recitation of his exploits (v. 11). Then he announced the plum piece of news (v. 12). Haman alone, in the company of the king, had been summoned to Esther’s banquet that day and was invited to another of the same tomorrow. But as far as Haman was concerned, even this was of no consolation as long as Mordecai refused to worship him (v. 13).

Haman is a case study in what happens in our hearts when our idols are challenged. He made public recognition his idol, and the result was that as long as he was receiving adulation, he felt great. However, when the achievement of his goal was challenged, he responded by lashing out in rage and seeking to feed his idol through boasting. Even though he still possessed unparalleled power in the kingdom, that wasn’t enough. There was a void at the center of his life that no amount of success could fill.

A skilled counselor would have advised Haman to trace back his negative and positive emotions and discover what was driving his life. His rage was an opportunity to discern the condition of his heart, to uncover what was filling the God-shaped hole in the center of his life. Once he had recognized his idolatry, Haman might have been shown how the reign of his idol was being challenged by the day’s events. He could have been shown that he needed to abandon seeing the world revolving around him and his successes and instead see a world revolving around God, in which his achievements had value as a means of bringing God the Glory He deserved.

Such counsel might have saved Haman’s soul, and perhaps even his life, if he had indeed been willing to turn from his idol to the true and living God. Unfortunately, Haman did not seek biblical counseling, but rather was content to receive the wisdom of his wife and his friends. Their counsel simply to “go with the feeling” and give full vent to his rage (v. 14). This idea pleased Haman, and he had the gallows made. But the problem with this advice was that is sought to eliminate the negative emotion of anger by feeding Haman’s idolatry rather than by mortifying it. It sought to bolster Haman’s need to feel important by going for a “giant size” vengeance.

This chapter also shows us that dealing with the empire sometimes demands great subtlety. Some portions of the Bible might seem to suggest that a simple, straightforward, direct approach is always the best. “Dare to be a Daniel” and let the chips fall where they may. And often that is the best approach. However, there are times in the providence of God when a more indirect approach will yield greater results. A direct confrontation isn’t always the wisest response to conflict with the world. Sometimes subtlety and meekness are more effective in the long run.

Notice that God’s plan in this case was worked out without thunder and lightning, or a parting of the sea in order to save His people. No one was delivered from a fiery furnace or miraculously preserved in a den of lions. God’s work here is every bit as subtle as Esther’s. It proceeds by unobtrusively nudging each of the characters in the story to behave exactly in accord with their own wishes and temperaments, while at the same time they do exactly what He decreed. So, God’s plans proceed in the world around us. It goes forward, not in spite of our desires and inclinations, whether sinful or righteous, but precisely through shaping us to be the people we are.

Once again, when we consider the empire of Ahasuerus and the kingdom of God side by side, we cannot but be struck at the contrast. Praise God that we serve an altogether different king than the one Esther knew. Approaching God is not like approaching Ahasuerus, with our knees trembling and hearts wondering whether we will survive the encounter. Who can predict how such a capricious ruler will respond? Our God, however, invites us to come into His presence regularly, indeed frequently, so that we may make known to Him our petitions and requests. No special subtlety is required in framing our desires. We don’t need flowery court language or crafty psychological maneuvers to trick God into giving us what we need. On the contrary, He is a Father to us, and if even earthly fathers provide good things for their children, how much more will our will our heavenly Father give us the things we need to grow and prosper? Our King has an open-door policy.

This contrast is not because there is no cost to gain access to the King, however. Our entry to the heavenly court is free, but it was not cheaply bought. As sinners, a death is required before we can enter the presence of the all-holy One. God can hold out the golden scepter of favor to us only because the fierce rod of His judgment has fallen upon Christ. Our peace with God is paid for in Christ’s blood. However, having been paid at such a high price, our peace has thereby been purchased once and for all. No one and nothing can now separate us from God’s favor and the right to bring all of our concerns directly to the throne of grace. Neither death nor life, neither heavenly forces nor earthly trials, neither adversity nor prosperity – in short, nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus (Rom. 8:38-39).

Esther 5:1-14 Study Questions:

How do the opening verses of this chapter (vv. 1-2) offer us resolution to the tension we felt as chapter 4 ended? In what way is this a hopeful moment – one that reminds us of God’s hidden hand in Esther’s life?

What do Haman’s joy and gladness in the first part of verse 9 reveal to us about his motivation, values, and treasure? What counsel would you have given to Haman, following his comments to his friends and wife (vv. 11-13)?

How would you evaluate the advice that is given to Haman by his wife and friends (v. 14)?

As we see the ugly, self-consumed heart of Haman being revealed to us in this passage, it is healthy for us to consider our own temptations toward idolatry. How might God be calling you to destroy the idol of acceptance and praise by others? How might He be calling you to accept criticism from others with more humility and grace?

In the whole Book of Esther there is one character who never appears on stage, never speaks, and is never actually spoken to: God. Nowhere is that truer than in chapter 4, where Esther must place her life in the hands of the unseen, unheard, and unrecognized God. The fate of the whole community lies in the balance. Verse 3 is how the community responded – but notice what is missing.

Mordecai too mourned the decree (vv. 1-2). Even though the empire had turned against him, Mordecai was still carefully law-abiding in everything (except bowing to Haman). He didn’t enter the king’s gate dressed in sackcloth because that was forbidden under Persian law. Yet instead of crying out to God, Mordecai’s first thought was to appeal to the king through Esther. He couldn’t go and speak to her directly, sequestered as she was, so he went to the entrance of the king’s gate in his sackcloth and ashes, knowing that word would get back to Esther of his condition. And so, it did (vv.4-5).

Notice how isolated Esther had become from the rest of the covenant community. Every Jew from India to Ethiopia was mourning and lamenting Haman’s edict, but Esther had no clue. She was apparently the only person in the whole Persian Empire who had not heard the news. Esther was not allowed to remain comfortably in the dark for long. Through her messenger, Mordecai informed her of the details of the plot (vv. 6-8).

Esther’s response to Mordecai’s first request was neutral. She didn’t say whether she would or wouldn’t go to the king. However, she underlined the risk that such a strategy would involve for her personally (vv. 9-11). According to custom, visitors had to be summoned into the presence of King Ahasuerus; no one could appear unannounced. The penalty for violating this law was death, unless the king extended his scepter in welcome. Everyone knew this, even people from outlying provinces. What is more, Esther hadn’t been summoned into the royal presence for thirty days – not a good sign, since doubtless the king had not been sleeping alone.

Mordecai was not so easily deterred. His second request to Esther was even stronger (vv. 12-14). In other words, Esther should not count on her comfortably isolated position in the royal palace. She too was part of the Jewish community, and her fate was intertwined with theirs. If they were to die, she would likely die too. If she didn’t act to help her community, though, she would be judged for failing to do her part and would suffer the consequences. But if she did intervene, things might perhaps turn out well after all. As Mordecai said, “Who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?”

Faced with these unpalatable alternatives, Esther made her choice (vv. 15-17). So, Esther agreed to show solidarity with the Jewish community. A mark of this new connection was that she asked Mordecai to gather the Jews in Susa together to fast for her for three days (v. 16). She and her maids would do likewise, and then she would go to see the king. Esther’s only recorded words were “I will go to the king, though it is against the law, and if I perish, I perish (v. 16). However, the Hebrew construction makes it clear that she is not talking about death simply as one possible outcome of her obedience to Mordecai, but as an almost inevitable outcome of choosing that course.

The Book of Esther highlights a very real conundrum that pastors wrestle with on a weekly basis. Simply put, it is this: “How can people who confess an orthodox creed week after week so easily and completely lose track of the implications of that theology whenever problems emerge in daily life?” Mordecai’s worldview may have been based on a solid theology, but he had difficulty connecting that theology to the issues of everyday life. If we know people, and the motions of our own hearts, we will not have to travel to ancient Susa for examples of this phenomenon. In times of crisis, for all our orthodox theology, our own first response is frequently the whimper resignation or human strategy rather than the bark of robust faith in God. We believe in God, but in practice react to life’s crisis as if we were virtual atheists. This is a world at enmity with God and at enmity with His people, as Jesus reminded us in John 15:18-21.

Esther’s actions raise serious questions for each of us to answer. Am I still blind to the true nature of the world and the plight of many of God’s people around me? Do I know enough about what is going on in the world to mourn and lament the situation of God’s persecuted people? Often, we not know the burdens of our brothers and sisters in the church well enough or care about them deeply enough to fast and pray. We do not even know enough about what is going on in our own hearts to mourn and lament our sin. We are so blinded by our own good lives that we neither hear, nor heed the cries of God’s people. If our eyes are opened to the true nature of our world, then surely, we will find plenty of reasons to fast and cry out to God.

In fact, our actions will reveal whom we regard as our true community. When those around us in school or at work mock Christianity and we remain silent, we deny that we are part of God’s people by our silence (the dog that didn’t bark), effectively declaring instead that the world is our true community. When we judge ourselves and others according to the world’s values of what is fashionable and desirable, we declare that the world and not the people of God is our true community. What do our speech and our silence say about who our people are?

By itself, however, all the fasting in the world would accomplish nothing for God’s covenant people in Persia. What they needed was a mediator. They needed someone who was willing and able to go and plead their case where they could not go, into the presence of the king. They could not appear in the king’s presence to seek mercy for themselves; someone else had to do it for them.

Esther therefore had to act as well as to fast. She needed to take her life in her hands, risking everything for her people. She did so without any explicit promises from God to protect her, or to bring about a successful conclusion to her mission. Perhaps God would remain hidden and allow many of His people to die, including Esther herself, as He has done on other occasions in history. Yet at another level, Esther’s success was guaranteed. God had committed Himself to maintain a people for Himself, not so that they could be comfortable, but so that they could bring Him glory. No matter what sinful paths had led Esther to where she was, she was undeniably now in a position to give God glory by publicly identifying with her people and, if necessary, laying down her life through that identification. It was up to God how to glorify Himself through Esther’s obedience, whether by delivering the people through her or allowing her to be martyred in His service, but He would be glorified one way or another.

It is the same for us, when we step out in faith, however weak and trembling. We cannot know ahead of time how God will choose to use us. He may heal our diseases, transform our breaking marriages, and plant thriving ministries through us. Or He may sustain us in obedient submission to Him as our earthly hopes are dashed and our lives poured out for apparently little purpose. Either way, though, we have the guarantee that He will use even our faint faith as the means of bringing glory to Himself.

If it is true that a mediator was needed with King Ahasuerus, how much more do we need a mediator to intercede for us with God, the Great King. God is the great King of kings, the sovereign ruler of the universe, against whom we have rebelled. Fallen, sinful people cannot therefore simply saunter into His presence, unannounced and uninvited. On the contrary, His edict has gone forth against us, declaring us worthy of death because of our sin. The truth has been disseminated throughout His empire that “the soul who sins shall die” (Ezek. 18:4). His decree is settled and determined, all the more so because it was not formulated in ignorance and haste, but by perfect wisdom before the foundation of the world. Who then will argue our case? Who will come to bring relief and deliverance for us?

The answer is Jesus Christ! The true Mediator between God and man, in the fullness of time He took flesh and appeared in this world. He went before the Father, knowing that He was not just risking His life but laying it down. There was no other way in which our sin could be judged and we could be saved. Through His death, we have received life. Raised from the dead, Jesus Christ once again appears before the Father, where He continues to intercede for us.

Esther 4:1-17 Study Questions:

As the passage opens, how are the Jewish people responding to the announcement that has just been circulated throughout the kingdom (v. 3)? What is missing from their response? What might that tell you about the spiritual state of many Jews who were living in Persia?

What does verses 4-8 tell us about Esther’s awareness of the decree of the king? How does she seek to comfort Mordecai? What might that attempt at comfort reveal about her initial understanding of the imminent danger that is faced by the Jewish people?

What do you make of Esther’s initial response to Mordecai’s request of her (vv. 9-11)? What seems to worry Esther, as she considers going before the king to make an appeal?

Consider the choice Esther now has before her. What might her fears be? What additional challenge and perspective has Mordecai set before her? What do her final words in the chapter reveal about her heart and intentions (v. 17)?

In Esther 3 (vv. 1-2), Mordecai refused to pay homage to the newly appointed high official, Haman. Opinions vary as to why exactly Mordecai refused to bow. The king had commanded it, and everyone else was doing it – but not Mordecai. He alone was refusing to bow. Why? Some scholars have thought that Mordecai didn’t want bow down before any human being, giving worship to man that is due to God alone. Other scholars have argued that Mordecai was being obstinately arrogant in his refusal to bow, or that he was jealous of Haman for having been promoted to the office of a high official. But there is no hint of either of those attitudes in the text.

Actually, the text itself suggests the reason why Mordecai didn’t bow, if we look closely enough. Haman was an Agagite. He was thus a descendent of Agag the Amalekite, the ancient tribal enemy of the Jews. When Israel came out of Egypt, the Amalekites attacked them in the wilderness, for which God cursed them and condemned them to extinction (Ex. 17: 8-16). Because of that assault, God declared that there would be a lasting enmity between the two peoples, and He committed Himself to blot out all remembrance of Amalek from the face of heaven. In the time of King Saul, God sent Israel to carry out that sentence on Amalek, destroying man and beast (1 Sam. 15). But Saul failed to carry out the terms of holy war, as God had commanded him to do. Instead, he spared the best animals and King Agag himself. Even though Saul had good intentions, in God’s sight however, obedience is better than sacrifice. Doing what God says is better than creatively attempting to produce our own plan to serve Him. For this act of disobedience, Saul was abandoned by God and rejected (1 Sam. 15:28).

So, for Mordecai, whose genealogy links him to King Saul’s family (see Esther 2:5), to bow to Haman, a descendant of King Agag’s family, was just too much to swallow. It would have seemed to be giving in to a hated enemy, whom God had cursed. Bowing to King Ahasuerus, the pagan authority set over God’s people by God on account of their sin, was one thing; bowing to Haman was another thing altogether. Further evidence for this interpretation comes in the ensuing events in verses 3-4. Mordecai presumably recounted the history of his people to the other servants of the king when they challenged him over his repeated refusal to bow to Haman. This explains why, when they finally reported him to Haman for his subordination, Mordecai’s Jewishness was a key element of their report.

Bowing to Haman was only a secondary issue. It was an issue only because of past failure on the part of God’s people. If King Saul had carried out his commission properly in the first place, there wouldn’t have been any Agagites left to threaten his descendants. This is a perennial problem. Past sins have a way of coming back repeatedly to haunt us, and sometimes our children after us.

Once the complications begin, they tend to proliferate. So, it was for Mordecai. It didn’t take long before Mordecai’s behavior was brought to Hamman’s attention. Mordecai’s associates were interested to see what their mutual boss would think of his behavior (v. 4). The result of their report was a quick change for the worse in Mordecai’s prospects (vv. 5-6).

Haman scorned a simple revenge upon Mordecai as a personal enemy. Eliminating a single individual was far too small a payback for his wounded vanity. Instead, he planned an end to all of Mordecai’s people throughout the empire. Mordecai’s stand for truth would have repercussions not just in his own life but also in those of his family, his friends, and his community (v. 6). The whole people group would have pay for the actions of a single individual.

This remains a reality in many parts of the world. There are powerful enemies who wish to harm Christians, and we can’t always count on the empire bailing us out. Christians who stand up for their faith may suffer not merely the loss of their own goods, but in some cases, they are forced to watch as their loved ones suffer for their commitment to the cause of the gospel. Does this mean that we should not make a stand for the gospel? By no means. There are times when we all need to stand up and be counted. However, it does mean that we need to count the cost carefully and pick our battles wisely.

Having decided on a plan to eliminate the Jewish people, Haman needed to put it into action. The first thing to do was to find the most suitable date for this massacre. So, Haman held a lottery to determine when the ugly deed would take place (v. 7). Haman’s plan to destroy an entire people group could not be carried out on his authority either. In order to make it work, he needed the compliance of King Ahasuerus. Not that such permission was hard to come by. The empire could be manipulated by a skilled political operator, its laws used to oppress and destroy. All that was needed was for those who should have been in charge to stand by and let it happen (vv. 8-11).

So why did Ahasuerus allow Haman to pass his decree? In the first place, he didn’t care enough to find out what was really going on. Second, Ahasuerus was motivated by simple greed. Haman offered him a vast sum of money, ten thousand talents of silver – more than half of the annual tax revenue of the entire empire. Where Haman proposed to come up with such a vast sum in not clear. Yet Ahasuerus seemed as unconcerned by that question as he was by any others. When he weighed the potential financial benefit against the cost of signing off to destruction an obscure, unidentified people, there was no contest. The result was that he handed his power over to an evil man, who used it to plot genocide. Meanwhile, the king and his trusted advisor gave the ramifications of the whole matter so little thought that they went off to celebrate the deal with a drink or two (v. 15).

So, the edict for the destruction of God’s people was signed, sealed, and delivered to the furthest corners of the empire, in the various languages of the peoples (vv. 12-15). The mail delivery system that had carried the king’s fatuous decree declaring men heads in their own households now carried this darker decree with the same haste. The city of Susa was thrown into confusion, showing that not everyone in the empire was against the Jews.

Haman was wrong when he thought that the future lay in the stars, to be decerned by the casting of lots. As Proverbs 16:33 put it: “The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord.” So, it transpired. The date selected by lot was far enough away that God’s rescue plan had plenty of time to unfold. Similarly, Ahasuerus was wrong when he said to Haman, “The people also [are given to you], to do with them as it seems good to you” (v. 11). The people were ultimately not his to give into Haman’s power. They were God’s people, and He would not allow them to be destroyed at the whim of the empire. Proverbs 16:9 addresses this fundamental reality too: “In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.”

Ironically, God Himself has far more reason to act against us and our families than Ahasuerus did against the Jews. We have not kept God’s law. We have refused to bow down before Him and submit to Him as we ought, giving Him the honor that is His by rights as our Creator. It is actually true in our case that it is not to God’s profit to tolerate us, since we are born cosmic rebels against His goodness and grace. What is more, we have a cosmic enemy, Satan, who would happily present of valid reasons why we should not be allowed to live. The edict for our destruction could legitimately have been signed against us by our Great King. But that is not how God, the true sovereign King, has chosen to deal with us.

Esther 3:1-15 Study Questions:

As the narrator describes the promotion of Haman (v. 1), what does he include about Haman’s family and lineage? Why might it be an important detail for understanding Mordecai’s response to Haman?

In what ways do Mordecai’s peers respond to his refusal to bow to Haman? How and why does Haman’s hostility expand from Mordecai to encompass to all of the Jewish people (vv. 5-6)?

How is Haman able to manipulate King Ahasuerus into complying with his plan to destroy the Jews (vv. 8-11)? What do we know about God, which Haman and King Ahasuerus ultimately do not know?

As you consider the stand that Mordecai takes against bowing to Haman, how are you challenged to stand more boldly for God and His Word in your daily life? In what ways have you been guilty of standing boldly for peripheral issues while failing to stand courageously for core gospel concerns?

The search for Queen Vashti’s replacement was in some ways a competition like today’s Golden Raspberry Award. The original idea when Vashti was deposed and sent away from the king’s presence was to find a better woman to fill her royal position. By “better,” the king’s advisors presumably meant someone more compliant than Vashti, someone who would toe the royal line and obey her husband. Yet strangely enough, in their search for a replacement it never seems to have occurred to those in charge to include a character assessment. Instead, only three virtues were necessary in this “better” woman: she had to be young, she had to be unmarried, and she had to be extraordinarily good-looking (vv. 1-4).

In the midst of this all-consuming empire, two relatively insignificant people, Mordecai and Esther, step onto the stage in verses 5-7. Mordecai was a descendent of Kish, from the tribe of Benjamin. He was related to King Saul, a fact that will become significant later on in the story. One of his ancestors was carried off into exile in the time of Jehoiachin in 597 B.C. In fact, exile was the defining feature of Mordecai’s position, as verse 6 makes clear. As a second or third generation exile, he would thus have known nothing other than life in Persia under the empire.

Mordecai lived in the citadel of Susa, along with the imperial employees, rather than out in the city of Susa itself. The other member of his household was his cousin, whom he had taken into his care because she was an orphan. She had a kosher heritage; she was the daughter of Abihail (v. 15). Esther was her Persian name. She too, like all the exiles, had to live in two worlds. As her life unfolded, though, there would come a day when she would have to decide which of those two worlds define her.

Those two worlds collided one fateful morning in the citadel of Susa. Ahasuerus’s officials were collecting his new flock of young women, according to the edict that his advisors had framed for him (v.8). We had anticipated this fate as soon as Esther was introduced to us as a woman who had a beautiful figure and was lovely to look at. In fact, the text makes the point that she is actually more than qualified. Visually speaking (which is all that the empire – then and now – cares about), she is doubly blessed.

Esther quickly learned not simply how to survive, but how to thrive in her new situation (v. 9). Esther learned that the harem was simply life in the empire in miniature” a relatively pointless existence, where life was regulated in all its details, and promotion depended not on talent or character, but on pleasing those in charge. Thus, Esther learned to be a pleaser, first of all charming Hegai – the “keeper of the women,” to give him his official title. In return for this compliance, Hegai rewarded Esther with special food and an early start to her beauty treatments (v. 12).

Esther had apparently no ethical qualms about eating the empire’s food and being used as the emperor’s plaything, and following Mordecai’s advice, her Jewishness remained perfectly concealed (vv. 10-11). After a year of preparation, Esther’s turn finally came to go in to the king for her one-night audition, she was careful to follow Hegai’s instructions (vv. 13-15). At this point in the story, Esther was the perfectly compliant child of the empire, the ultimate anti-Vashti, and her tactics appeared to be succeeding. Wherever she went, she won with her compliant ways the favor of all who saw her.

We are therefore not surprised to find out that sweet little Esther also charmed the heart of King Ahasuerus (vv. 16-17). Here surely was the “better woman” than Vashti that he had been seeking: as beautiful as the former queen, but much more compliant. The king “loved” Esther more than all the other women; he found what he was looking for. Ahasuerus made Esther queen in Vashti’s place, a substitution that is underlined by the reference to the royal crown and to a feast given in her honor (v. 18). The result of Eshter’s promotion was happiness and blessing all around.

Through all of this lengthy procedure Mordecai had been keeping a watchful eye on his cousin, advising her along the way. He was the one who advised her to keep secret her Jewish identity – not because the empire was inherently anti-Semitic, but because, in his opinion, one could never be too careful in a place like Susa. He knew the way the empire operated. Walls have ears and information is power. Even after she became queen, it was because of Mordecai’s command that Esther kept her ancestry quiet (vv. 19-20).

Mordecai himself proved the power of the right information used in the right way, when he uncovered a plot to harm Ahasuerus (vv. 21-23). Two of the king’s eunuchs conspired to kill the king. Mordecai became aware of their plot while he was sitting at the king’s gate (this location identifies him as an official to the king). He passed the information on to the king through Esther, who herself was careful to give credit to Mordecai. In that way, both positions were made a little more secure by putting the empire in their debt. The result was that the conspirators were hanged, while Mordecai’s name was inscribed in the royal annals.

What this chapter of Esther teaches us is that disobedience and sin – even the disobedience and sin of others – have far-reaching consequences. Why was Esther caught up and condemned to this apparently meaningless life in a gilded cage? In part, at least, because she lived in Susa. Why was she living in Susa? She was there because of the sin and disobedience of her forebears. It was disobedience that had brought the family of Mordecai and Esther into exile at the time of Jehoiachin. The destruction of Jerusalem was not simply and accident of fate: it was the culmination of the judgment of God upon His own people who had abandoned Him. Disobedience brought God’s people into exile in the first place.

What’s more, it was disobedience that kept Mordecai and Esther’s family in exile. In 538 B.C., Cyrus issued a decree permitting the Jews to return home. Some went back with Zerubbabel at that time (Ezra 1-2), but many stayed, comfortably settled where they were, outside the land of promise. Had Mordecai and Esther (or their parents) returned to Jerusalem at some time in the previous fifty years, would Esther still have been taken by the harem recruiters? Perhaps, but she certainly wouldn’t have been such an easy target. The result of the family’s history of disobedience compromise was that Mordecai and especially Esther found themselves in a position that, for all its worldly advantages, was potentially disastrous spiritually. Esther ended up married to an uncircumcised pagan and virtually cut off from the community of faith, successfully pretending not to be a child of the true and living God.

Yet we see in this chapter more than just the bitter fruit of disobedience. We also see God’s ability to turn our disobedience – and the sour fruits of our parents’ sins – to His own glory and His people’s good. Ahasuerus and his cronies meant their edict purely for the satisfaction of the king’s selfish pleasures. Mordecai and Esther found themselves impaled on the horns of a dilemma because of their earlier compromises with the empire. They found it much easier to comply with the empire’s wishes than to resist assimilation – and which of us can be sure that we would have charted a different course? Yet God’s hand hovers over every detail, moving the pieces into the place He has determined – even through their sin and compromise – in order to achieve His own good purposes.

This observation presses us to see both similarities and differences between the empire of Ahasuerus and the kingdom of God. Like the empire of Ahasuerus, God’s claims on our lives are absolute. He owns our bodies, our sexuality, our career plans, our hopes, our dreams, our children…everything we have are His to do with as He wills. When we were baptized into His community, we were marked out with His name – the name Christian – and He will not share our loyalty with others. God demands and will exercise complete sovereignty over our beings. Of course, this is relatively easy to confess in the abstract. What is much harder is to continue to confess that sovereignty joyfully when God takes our lives and the lives of those around us in directions different from those we had hoped and prayed for, and of which we had dreamed. When God brings trials into our lives and calls us to submit willingly to the loss of the very things that this world calls most precious – money, friends, reputation, health, strength, dreams, and aspirations – how do we respond? With Esther’s sweet and compliant spirit? On the contrary, our hearts swiftly revolt against God whenever things do not go our way, whenever our will is not done.

When God exercises His claims on our lives, He does so to bring us good. He wants to move us on in our spiritual walk, to develop and deepen and display our faith before a watching world (1 Peter 1:6-7). As we suffer loss, and He pries our fingers off the idols to which they are so desperately attached, then our hearts are prepared more and more to be with Christ, and to see in Him our only good in this world.

Esther 2:1-23 Study Questions:

How are we sometimes tempted to become frustrated with God regarding His timing? When have you struggled with unanswered prayers or unfulfilled dreams? How were you tempted to view God in the midst of those disappointments?

What evidence, if any, of personal faith and courage do you see on the part of Esther and Mordecai in this passage? Where do you see evidence of the sovereign hand and plan of God?

How is the hidden hand of God evident in the “favor: that Esther quickly wins (vv. 9-15)? What effect does she have on those around her?

What are you learning about the sovereignty of God as you study this passage? How does the kingdom of Jesus Christ (and His role as Bridegroom in it) clash with the values of King Ahasuerus and his kingdom, as revealed in this chapter?