Peril for Hadassah

July 14, 2019 Esther 4:1-16

PERIL FOR HADASSAH

I have bad news and good news. The bad news is, somebody is going to die. The good news is, you get to decide who.

Terrible! Straight from the halls of Hell. But for just a split second, before the soul can put up the shields, something inside starts to smile. For just one flashing moment before the shields snap up, can you feel the beginnings of a sardonic glee? What if God had attached a rider to the sixth commandment: “If you are very good and faithful, if you are hard-working and responsible, then once every fifteen years – without guilt, detection, or blame – you may, if you so choose, blink somebody out of this life.”

I wonder if there is anybody here who would have exercised that option by now. I wonder if there is anybody here who would not have exercised that option by now. And how many of us think we would still be here? You probably would be. I know for certain that I would not still be here.

We are deep into summertime, and in summertime I like to tell Bible stories. Most people in our time do not know the Bible stories as well as many people did a couple of generations ago, so it’s not that I think summertime is a good time to fool around or go off duty. The biblical stories carry a lot of basic meanings and foundational perspectives. They are supposed to be the common heritage – the common language – that makes it possible for us to communicate and to understand each other in matters of faith and religion. So when we remind each other of our biblical stories, we are catching up with what has started to get lost.

Beyond that, many people who have heard the biblical stories have only heard them when they were children, usually in Sunday School. The childish versions of our stories leave out a lot of what they are really about. Grown-up Christians need to know the grown-up versions of our stories. Our stories have a lot to say about real life, what we are up against, and what it means to trust God and to stay faithful or not.

* * *

It is foolish to presume that we know for sure how people of former ages thought and felt. But sometimes we do wonder if they were less squeamish than we are about blood and pain and death and hatred. The Book of Esther, for instance, tells about the origins and events that established the Feast of Purim as one of the great holy days of Judaism. Today, its meaning is revised to focus on deliverance, providence, and the necessity for speaking out against injustice. But just in case some of you decide to read the rest of the Book of Esther this afternoon or wonder why we do not read from it more often, it is also the story of how the exiled Jews in Persia (around 450 B.C.) were given permission to massacre over seventy-five thousand people.

Even though the story makes it sound like simple justice, that is a disturbing event to celebrate. It is hard to know if the world today is more advanced or less advanced, morally and spiritually, than it was in 450 B.C. If someone threatens us or the ones we love, we feel perfectly justified in taking them out. We just need to make sure we did not jump to a false conclusion. So we threaten them and the ones they love. And where does it ever end? So far, it has not ended.

The Book of Esther tells a disturbing story, even if we do find it in our sacred Scriptures. The Jews end up justified in killing off seventy-five thousand of their enemies. And in the Feast of Purim (the 14th and 15th of Adar, a month before Passover), they still celebrate and rejoice in this event each year. We do not read it or talk about it very much. When was the last time you heard a sermon from the Book of Esther? Well, you may not hear much of a sermon today either, but should you go home and decide to read the whole story, I want you to know that I do know what the rest of the book tells us about.

* * *

Ahasuerus (Xerxes I), King of Persia, got sick of the telephone ringing all the time and people coming in wanting to know this and asking for that. So he made a law: If anybody approached him in the inner court without being summoned, the sentence was death. If he sent for them, well and good. But if they came to him unbidden, they would be executed. The King could waive the death penalty, of course; if he happened to be in a good mood or happened to like you, he could extend his gold scepter and waive the death penalty. Nevertheless, it was risky to bank on his favor. He thought highly of his privacy, and his moods could change rapidly.

In 587 B.C., about a hundred and fifty years before our story begins, most of the Jewish population had been carried captive into Babylon. Then Persia conquered Babylon. Intelligent, educated, and diligent – maintaining their own customs and beliefs – some of the Jews had risen to prominent positions in their new circumstances. This led, as we would expect, to considerable jealousy on the part of some of the native citizens, who could not see why they should have to compete with or share their jobs and positions with foreigners. This antipathy came to its apex between a Jew named Mordecai and an Amalekite named Haman, the Prime Minister of Persia. More on that in a moment.

King Ahasuerus loved wine, and he let it flow freely at his banquets. He instructed his wine stewards to let each guest drink in their own way and to serve each one as much as they wanted. (By the way, such an attitude is one of the telltale marks of an alcoholic.) On the seventh day of one great banquet, the King was feeling quite good, and he sent word commanding that Queen Vashti appear before all his guests, dressed in her crown. This is not the Sunday School version; this is the grown-up version. The King meant dressed only in her crown. That’s one of the parts they usually slough over pretty quickly in Sunday School. In any case, the Queen was beautiful, and the King, in his cups, wanted to show her off and make everybody jealous.

The Queen did not relish the idea or the company (especially not after seven days of drinking), and perhaps she suspected that the King might not remember the incident anyway. In any case, she did not come.

Alas, King Ahasuerus did remember, and aside from being severely miffed, he was greatly concerned about the welfare of his subjects. If the Queen could openly disobey him and get away with it, surely all the wives in the land would begin to be rebellious and disobedient to their husbands. It was clearly a national emergency. (Therefore most of us suspect that the King was still drunk.) After consulting with his advisors (who were no doubt also drunk), Ahasuerus decided that it was only fitting and just that Vashti should never again appear before him, having declined to do so when she had been summoned. Therefore, a new Queen should be chosen in her place, one who would be subservient and obedient, not rebellious or contentious. Or, as our passage says: “in order that each man ... should be master in his own house.” (Esther 1:22) Letters were sent

BRUCE VAN BLAIR © 2019 – All rights reserved. PAGE 3 OF 9 PERIL FOR HADASSAH to all the provinces, each in its own language (since Persia was a very large empire), proclaiming that every man should be ruler over his own household. (Now you know for sure that the King was still drunk.) Soon afterward, the search for the most beautiful virgins began, that the Queen’s vacant place might be filled.

Onto this scene came a Jewish kid named Myrtle. Myrtle was an orphan who lived with her uncle, Mordecai, who was an attendant at the King’s court. She was a knockout and very sexy, as the name Myrtle used to imply: white flowers with aromatic, edible berries, sacred to Venus among the Greeks; among the Hebrews, the boughs of the myrtle were emblematic of sexual love. Naturally, lovely young Myrtle was picked up as one of the many possible prospects for the King’s attention. Mordecai instructed Myrtle not to disclose her Jewish identity. Next thing we know, Myrtle is being called Esther, after the Babylonian deity Ishtar, instead of by her own Hebrew name. No king wants to marry some kid named “Moitle.” Oh, I forgot to mention that in Hebrew, Myrtle is pronounced Hadassah.

Now, it took a whole year of practice and preparation before a girl could be ushered in to spend the night with the King. And after that first night, she would not be sent into the King again unless he expressly asked for her. But whatever it was that Myrtle had, the King wanted it. He kept asking for her, and he finally chose her as his new Queen. And so, the little orphan Cinderhadassah rose to highest prominence and became Queen of all Persia. That’s where most Cinderella stories end, but this story was just beginning.

Esther became Queen, and Haman became Prime Minister. And wouldn’t you know, Mordecai refused to bow down before Haman or to do obeisance before him. Discovering that Mordecai was a Jew and that Jewish people did not bow the knee except before their God, Haman determined to exterminate the Jews. He told Ahasuerus about the misfit band of people within the kingdom who would not cooperate with the customs or obey the laws of the King, but who insisted on obeying their own laws in their own way. So the King gave Haman his signet ring (power of attorney), and told him he could deal with the troublemakers however he saw fit. And that is where we come into the story in the Scripture reading this morning. I am really sorry there is not time to read the rest of the book to you.

Nevertheless, there is much in this story to muse about, far more than we have time for this morning. Esther has been thrust into this situation without design or request on her part. She has risen from an orphan, dependent on her uncle, to the Queen of Persia who has most anything she wants. We sense from the story that she likes it at the top, and that she is just beginning to understand and enjoy all the benefits of her new glory. Why can’t life stay simple, with her only problem being to keep the King happy?

When Esther learns of Haman’s plot against her people, she clearly wants no part of it. She would prefer to be ignorant of what is going on. Next to that, she would like to be left out of it. Next to that, she would like to insist that there is nothing she can do about it. Oy veh! Why can we never read a story without seeing ourselves there reflected?

Mordecai had insisted that Esther keep her Jewishness a secret. Now she seems to be on the verge of forgetting it altogether. Why should an orphan risk such new and glorious heights for an old identity, an old God, an old way of life? Oh why couldn’t the whole mess just disappear or drift on by?! Why couldn’t somebody else do something? “Oh please, dear God, not now! Not when I’m just on the brink of ...” Isn’t it strange how often we are on the brink of something when God calls?

Have you ever had that sinking feeling? “I’m the one for this. This is my assignment, my trouble, my issue. This one has my name on it.” Poor Esther! I can just imagine her tossing and turning and pacing and anguishing. To have to risk it all, and after all the years of hoping and working and wondering and dreaming. And now, when the dream has finally come true, suddenly real life comes thundering in with great urgency. And real life often carries with it the threat that our lives are about to be over in one way or another.

Remember, the whole affair had come about over the issue of obedience. Wouldn’t the King be watching carefully to see if Esther would abuse her Queenship? He did not want another Vashti. Wouldn’t he be eager to make an example of Esther also, if she showed the slightest inclination to be contentious? If she walked in at the wrong time – to make demands, to interfere in the King’s business, to reveal that she herself was one of the Jews whom Haman hated – what were her chances of survival? Very, very slim, from any practical, logical perspective.

Looking from the bottom up, it always seems clear that if we had some high position, we could make a lot of changes and do a lot of good. From the high positions, however, somehow all those advantages seem to melt away. Here is Esther, the Queen of all Persia, feeling helpless, thinking, “There is nothing I can do. If I stick my neck out, I will lose it, and all for nothing.” On the other hand, she cannot shake that sinking feeling: She is the one. It is her turn. The task belongs to her, win or lose. And if she does not risk it all, her people will all die.

It was indeed peril for Hadassah.

* * *

Esther is both brilliant and subtle. “When the king caught sight of Queen Esther standing in the court, he extended to her the gold scepter he held, for she had obtained his favor. The king said to her, ‘What is it, Queen Esther? Whatever you request, up to half my kingdom, it shall be granted you.’” (Esther 5:2-3)

At this point, Esther only requests that the King and his Prime Minister Haman come to a banquet she has prepared for them. At the end of that banquet, the King again asks what Esther wants, again promising anything up to half his kingdom. Esther only requests that the King and Haman come to another banquet she will prepare for them on the following night.

Haman is delighted that he has been so honored by being invited to dine with Esther and the King at these private banquets. After the first banquet, he brags to his wife and friends about the heights to which he has risen. Meanwhile Haman, who has the King’s signet ring, remember, had previously sent letters to all the provinces instructing that they get ready to murder all the Jews. After the first banquet, he orders a gallows built in Susa (the capital city) seventy-five feet high on which he intends to hang Esther’s uncle Mordecai before the second banquet.

Later that same night, however, the King discovers that a couple of years earlier, Mordecai had saved his life by uncovering a plot to assassinate him, and that Mordecai had never been thanked or acknowledged for it. So instead of hanging Mordecai the next day, Haman is forced to honor him. Then Haman attends the second private banquet.

At the end of that banquet, when the King asks what she might request, Esther tells him that her real hope is that her life and the life of her people might be spared. Then it comes out that Haman has been plotting and preparing the death of all the Jews in the land – and Esther is one of them.

When it all comes to light, Haman is hanged on the gallows he had prepared for Mordecai. Mordecai is made the new Prime Minister and given the King’s signet ring. And the Jews begin to wreak havoc on all those throughout the empire who had been ready to kill them. Which brings us back to the deliverance celebrated in the Feast of Purim every year.

* * *

It’s not a big deal, I guess, but I cannot help noticing the juxtaposition of submissiveness. The story makes a big point, for instance, of the obedience Esther gives to her uncle, Mordecai. He instructs her in many things, and she is much praised for her submissive spirit and her obedience down to the smallest details. Clearly the story is making her an example to all Jewish girls and women. Then suddenly it becomes imperative that Esther be a bold, courageous, fearless woman who would dare to defy the King’s law and walk in on him, risking death on behalf of her people. Esther almost cannot bring herself to do it. Her training in submissiveness very nearly costs the lives of all the Jews in Persia. And the storyteller never seems to realize this inherent contradiction. Or maybe the storyteller waits for us to realize that when Esther’s submissiveness reaches to her prayers with God, everything straightens out again.

Was Esther ever assertive again? Or was this the only time? For that, you must read the rest of the story. Though they did not tell us much about it in Sunday School, Esther had some things going for her. Clearly she was a great courtesan; in the vernacular, she was the best “lay” in all of Persia. That was how she became the Queen. And that was what saved her when she appeared before the King unbidden. He extended the scepter because he did not want to lose her. Even faith has its reasons. Paul was very faithful, but he was also rabbinically trained, spoke Greek, and was a Roman citizen. Peter was faithful too, though he lacked some of Paul’s credentials.

Well, Esther had some credentials of her own. You remember that beautiful song in Fiddler on the Roof, where Tevye and his wife Golde are singing about their daughters? “May you be like Ruth and like Esther.” Ruth became the great, great grandmother of King David, even though she was a Moabite. And Esther saved her people by intervening with the King when Haman was about to destroy them. Ruth and Esther are two of the sexiest women in the Bible, though all we learned in Sunday School was that they were great models of purity and faithfulness. We do not really hear the story until we realize that the physical side and the spiritual side are somehow put together.

What reaches me most is the inner spectrum of the story. The physical peril was great. No doubt about it. But was not the spiritual peril even greater? What if Esther had decided to remain silent? What if she had decided to keep her privileges and luxuries and enjoy her new position and all that went with it? What if she had decided to let whatever befell her people remain none of her business, while all of her people perished around her? She could have spent the rest of her days sitting on velvet cushions, wondering what would have happened if she had been a real person (a mensch ) – an actual living soul.

So there was peril for Hadassah. She had to risk her position, her prosperity, and her life, all in the hope that she might save her people. This she did, finally, asking all her people to join in fasting and prayers with her – that she might not lose courage, and that she might present herself in the very best manner possible. And she said, “If I perish, I perish.” It is often the final cry of the faithful: “Though he slay me, yet will I trust him.” The real peril for Hadassah was greater than the loss of her life. She might have done nothing, and lost her soul.

* * *

God made the sun – it gives heat, light, sight, even life. God made the moon – it gives tides, moonbeams, romance, and mystery. God made the stars – they give beauty, inspiration, direction, awe. God made the air – it gives breath, coolness, balmy breezes, great winds. God made the clouds – they give shade, beauty, rain, imagination. God made the earth – it gives grandeur, solidity, resources, gems, nourishment. God made the seas – they give fish, plants, transportation, majesty, nurture. God made the trees – they give perfume, lumber, fruit, shade. God made the birds – they give beauty, grace, fragrance, color. God made the beasts – they give companionship, meat, milk, wool, hides. God made you – what do you give?

I have bad news and good news. The bad news is, some things are going to die. The good news is, you get to decide what. It really is not a joke, is it? People and things do die. And maybe it is not very good news, but in very real ways we decide who and what will die in our own lives. If enough of us withdraw our interest or our concern or our support, something will die. A person, a thing, a church, an idea, a concept, or faith will die upon the earth. That is the peril for Hadassah, and that is the peril for all of us. What shall we let die? Ourselves? Our neighbors? The Christ? And sometimes, to choose to survive is the death of the soul.

But then, I guess that is what the man was trying to tell us when He said, “Whoever would save his own life shall lose it. Whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THIS DOCUMENT AND ANY RECORDING ARE DUE TO COMBINING REWORKED VERSIONS OF THIS SERMON INTO ONE DEFINITIVE TEXT VERSION.