Sermon 7/23/17
Esther 1:1-2:4, 4
Women of the Bible: Vashti and Esther
Today we’re looking at the story of
two women, two queens, Vashti and Esther. The book of Esther is a fairly short
book, set in the time of exile. Remember, Israel had been conquered by foreign
rulers, and many Israelites had been sent away from Israel to live in foreign
lands. Some Jews find themselves living in the kingdom of Persia, under the
rule of a man named King Ahasuerus, who is known elsewhere as King Xerxes.
Persia is in the region we know today as Iran.
Esther is unique in being one of only two books of the Bible
named for women – we read from the other, the book of Ruth, two weeks ago – but
it is also one of only two book of the Bible that doesn’t explicitly mention
God anywhere. (The other is Song of Songs.) So why is this book part of the
scriptures you might wonder, if God isn’t mentioned? Today we’ll talk about
this story of Esther, and see if we can see God woven throughout this text,
even when God isn’t explicitly named.
Ahasuerus gives a banquet for the leaders of his government,
including military figures and nobles of the region. The display of his wealth
and splendor and pomp goes on for 6 straight months. And at the end of that
lavish party, he gives another party, this one 7 days long, for all of the
people present in the citadel – higher ups and regular folk. The scripture
describes the extravagant decorations, food, and festivities in detail. We read
that drinking was “without restraint,” and that the king ordered everyone to do
just as they desired. At the same time, Vashti was giving a party for the women
of the palace.
On the last day of festivities, Ahasuerus orders his servants
to bring Queen Vashti before him and his guests, wearing her crown, so his
officials can see her beauty. And Vashti refuses to come. We’re not told why. In
fact, we never hear Vashti speak a word. Readers of the Bible have imagined a
variety of possible reasons over the millennia for her refusal, including
everything from her being ill, to being modest, to being unhappy with her
appearance that day, to being simply stubborn. But to me, it seems pretty
obvious why she doesn’t want to appear. She’s being ordered to present herself
to be stared at by a large group of very drunk men. It feels like a demeaning
command, and one that would leave her vulnerable. So she refuses. The king is
enraged, and he seeks to impose the harshest punishment possible. For a woman
in her time and context, her actions are actually illegal. She’s not allowed to refuse the king this way! And her
bold refusal might stir up other women to question the commands of their
husbands! So, Vashti is permanently banished from the king’s presence, and
letters go out from the king declaring that “every man should be master in his
own house.” And then, a group of young women are collected together to undergo
beauty treatments, so one of them can be chosen as a new queen for Ahasuerus.
Although we never hear Vashti speak, I can’t help but admire whatever led her
to refuse the king. It seems it was the only power she had at her disposal, and
she used it.
Her banishment paves the way for a young
Jewish woman named Esther to be chosen as queen instead. Esther has been raised
by her cousin, a man named Mordechai, because Esther was an orphan. She was
raised as Mordechai’s own daughter. When Esther is made queen, Mordechai tells
her not to reveal her Jewish identity, and she obeys. She is loved and admired
by the king and his court, and showered with gifts. Mordechai somehow also uncovers
a plot to kill the king, and through Esther, the king is warned, further
putting Esther in the king’s good graces.
Eventually, though, Haman, a high-ranking
official promoted by the king, is insulted by Mordechai, who fails to bow when
Haman enters the city gates. Haman isn’t satisfied just to punish Mordecai
though, so he decides that he will try to have all Jews in the whole kingdom put to death. He suggests
to the king that it’s not right to have these people, these Jews, scattered
through the kingdom who have different laws and practices than everyone else.
“It is not appropriate for the king to tolerate them,” he says. Haman offers to
pay a lot of money to the king for the right to have them all put to death, and
the king agrees. A date for the execution of all the Jews, men, women, young
and old is set.
When Mordechai hears what is happening, he
puts on sackcloth and ashes, a sign of mourning. All the Jewish people fast and
weep and lament. And Mordechai appeals to Esther to beg the king for mercy. But
Esther is scared. No one goes to the king without being summoned. And look what
happened to Vashti! She can’t risk it. She could be put to death! Mordechai
speaks to her bluntly: “Do not think that in the king’s palace you will escape
any more than all the other Jews. For if you keep silence at such a time as
this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but
you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to
royal dignity for just such a time as this.” Finally, she agrees to go. She
asks Mordechai to fast on her behalf. And she says, “I will go to the king,
though it is against the law; and if I perish, I perish.” Fortunately, she
finds favor with the king, receives an audience, and saves her people from
death.
The book of Esther is about this
moment of truth: when crisis comes our way, when conflict comes, what will we
do? What is safe, or what is right? What is comfortable, or what is hard, but
just? What protects ourselves, or what will serve God and serve others? It
isn’t an easy question to answer. But we have to ask it of ourselves, again and
again.
Some of you may know the famous poem
penned by Protestant pastor Martin Niemöller
during World War II. He has a compelling story of transformation, and over
time, he became more opposed to and more outspoken about Hitler and Nazism. He
wrote about our tendency to not speak up for others as long as we ourselves are
safe. He wrote, “First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak
out—Because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and
I did not speak out—Because I was not a Trade Unionist. Then they came for the
Jews, and I did not speak out—Because I was not a Jew. Then they came for
me—and there was no one left to speak for me.
I was thinking about Niemöller’s poem as I thought of Esther. It was
so tempting to stay silent, even as her own people were being set up for
slaughter, because speaking up might mean forfeiting her own life. What does it
take for us to be moved to speak on behalf of someone else who is being
wronged, hurt, threatened, mistreated? What does it take for us to speak up for
what we believe is right, when doing so would put ourselves at risk? When by
staying silent, we might be able to remain comfortable and safe? Esther could
have stayed quiet and played it safe. I think perhaps a large part of her wanted to stay quiet. I know that would
have been my impulse. Who could blame someone for wanting to protect their own
life? Mordechai helps Esther see things differently. Perhaps Esther – a Jewish
woman who somehow ended up as Queen of Persia – perhaps Esther is where she is
when she is for just such a time as this, for just such a purpose as this –
standing up for a whole people.
Remember earlier this summer, when
we talked about Sarah and her long-awaited child, and about kairos, God’s right time for action?
God’s right time, kairos time, is all
over this story. Esther is in just the right place at just the right time to
act for God, for others. So where has God placed you? Where are you now, in the
right time and the right place to serve God? Who are you in just the right
place at just the right time to serve?
Is God explicitly mentioned in
Esther? No. But God is all over Esther’s story, and working so clearly in
Esther’s life. Is God’s work in our life so clear? Can we see God written all
over the stories of our lives? Sometimes I hear Christians lamenting a
diminishing of Christianity in the public sphere. People might mentioned prayer
in public schools, or the separation of church and state, or settings becoming
more secular that once seemed more steeped in religious language and practice.
But I have to tell you, I’m not too worried about these things. Because I think
that our lives can have God written all over them, like Esther’s life
eventually does, when our actions are steeped in following God’s call. You
might work and live and move in a “secular” setting, but your discipleship and faithfulness and
openness to God’s call can be seen in all that you do. Your voice, speaking up
for those who are in desperate need, is a voice of faith, a sign of God at work
in the world, and at work in you.
Who knows, friends, but that God has
called you for just this time, and just this place? How will you answer that
call? Amen.
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