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“Knowing When to Speak Up” 2:1-18

Brett Younger Senior Minister June 6, 2021 The Third Sunday of Pentecost After these things, when the anger of King had abated, he remembered and what she had done and what had been decreed against her. Then the king’s servants who attended him said, “Let beautiful young virgins be sought out for the king. And let the king appoint commissioners in all the provinces of his kingdom to gather all the beautiful young virgins to the harem in the citadel of under custody of Hegai, the king’s , who is in charge of the women; let their cosmetic treatments be given them. And let the girl who pleases the king be queen instead of Vashti.” This pleased the king, and he did so. Now there was a Jew in the citadel of Susa whose name was son of Jair son of Shimei son of Kish, a Benjaminite. Kish had been carried away from Jerusalem among the captives carried away with King Jeconiah of Judah, whom King Nebuchadnezzar of had carried away. Mordecai had brought up Hadassah, that is Esther, his cousin, for she had neither father nor mother; the girl was fair and beautiful, and when her father and her mother died, Mordecai adopted her as his own daughter. So when the king’s order and his edict were proclaimed, and when many young women were gathered in the citadel of Susa in custody of Hegai, Esther also was taken into the king’s palace and put in custody of Hegai, who had charge of the women. The girl pleased him and won his favor, and he quickly provided her with her cosmetic treatments and her portion of food, and with seven chosen maids from the king’s palace, and advanced her and her maids to the best place in the harem. Esther did not reveal her people or kindred, for Mordecai had charged her not to tell. Every day Mordecai would walk around in front of the court of the harem, to learn how Esther was and how she fared. The turn came for each girl to go in to King Ahasuerus, after being twelve months under the regulations for the women, since this was the regular period of their cosmetic treatment, six months with oil of myrrh and six months with perfumes and cosmetics for women. When the girl went in to the king, she was given whatever she asked for to take with her from the harem to the king’s palace. In the evening she went in; then in the morning she came back to the second harem in custody of Shaashgaz, the king’s eunuch, who was in charge of the concubines; she did not go in to the king again, unless the king delighted in her and she was summoned by name. When the turn came for Esther daughter of Abihail the uncle of Mordecai, who had adopted her as his own daughter, to go in to the king, she asked for nothing except what Hegai the king’s eunuch, who had charge of the women, advised. Now Esther was admired by all who saw her. When Esther was taken to King Ahasuerus in his royal palace in the tenth month, which is the month of Tebeth, in the seventh year of his reign, the king loved Esther more than all the other women; of all the virgins she won his favor and devotion, so that he set the royal crown on her head and made her queen instead of Vashti. Then the king gave a great banquet to all his officials and ministers— “Esther’s banquet.” He also granted a holiday to the provinces, and gave gifts with royal liberality.

We have friends with whom we do not mention certain subjects. Not saying everything we think makes sense, but it is hard to know where to draw the lines. When do we talk? When do we keep quiet? Do we hide our love for Shake Shack from our vegetarian friend? Do we tell our aunt from Nashville that we have never liked country music? Do we mention to a college student that English majors do not make much money? Do we mention to the neighbor who still has a Make America Great Again sign in his window that we like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez? Do we let our boss know that we do not care for his racist jokes? Do we tell our barber whose partner is sick that we will pray for him? Do we tell our co-worker that she should visit Plymouth? Do we tell our cousin whose life is falling apart that we felt God caring for us through a hard time? It is hard to talk about things that matter. The state of American politics has made conversation problematic. People on either end of the political spectrum declare that they—and the policies they support—are more Christian than those on the other end. Democrats have trouble hearing Republicans. Republicans have trouble hearing Democrats. We struggle to reconnect with estranged friends and family members. Some think the answer is to talk louder, to muster up their righteous indignation, red faces and bulging arteries. The result is clear communication if what is being communicated is that the speaker is really mad. What is called the national conversation is often just shouting. People who did not use to talk about politics at all, now have trouble talking with those whose politics differ from their own. These damaged relationships are the casualties of a dysfunctional political system, but they also reflect the difficulty we have imagining other perspectives. We have trouble talking about things that matter—especially our faith. It has been difficult for a long time. The is the story of a heroine who finds it hard to talk about her faith. The first word in the book is translated “This happened in the days of.” The word is the fifth century B.C.E. version of “Here comes a great story.” King Ahasuerus is the Persian King Xerxes. His empire is enormous. Scholars argue about how historically accurate Esther is. The traditional view is that it is a precise recounting of historical events. Others argue that it should begin “Once upon a time.” The truth is somewhere in the middle. There is no historical information that contradicts the history in Esther or anything improbable in a story of attempted genocide. There are a few minor discrepancies. Historical records list Ahasuerus’ queen as . Neither Vashti nor Esther is mentioned outside of the Bible. They could start the movie version with “This story is based on a true story” (George L. Murphy, “Providence and Passion in Esther,” Currents in Theology in Mission, 29:2, April 2002, 122-123). The book begins with King Ahasuerus throwing a party big enough to make Mardi Gras look like a church council meeting. Ahasuerus is rich enough to throw parties of ridiculous length and extravagance. The author of Esther has an eye for detail that would fit on the society page, describing “white cotton curtains and blue hangings tied with cords of fine linen,” (1:6) and silver couches being brought in by the cartload. The king makes an official proclamation (1:8) that guests can drink as much as they want. While the men are enjoying the world’s most expensive kegger, drinking straight from the gold pitchers, Queen Vashti is hosting a wine and cheese tasting for the wives. By the time the seventh day rolls around, the king is feeling no pain. Having shown off everything else that belongs to him, he decides it is time to show off Queen Vashti. She is beautiful, and he wants to see the gang turn green with envy when he parades her around. He sends a member of his staff to tell her to get there in a hurry. Some rabbis interpret the command for Vashti to appear wearing her royal crown as requiring her to wear nothing but the crown. We hope this is an overstatement, but they are right about how offensive this is. Vashti is the overlooked heroine. She will not be paraded like a play thing in front of the king’s drunken fraternity brothers. She refuses to be a trophy wife—not even for the king. She is a human being, and not a silver couch or a gold pitcher. She will give up her crown, but she will not give up her self-respect. Ahasuerus is furious. Not only has the king been insulted, but if Vashti gets away with this, who can tell what these women will be asking for next. Every wife in Persia hears about Queen Vashti putting her foot down. The husbands are worried about keeping their wives in their place. Memucan draws the short straw and hopes his wife will not hear about what he agrees to say: “King, with all due respect, if the queen gets away with this every man in Persia will be washing dishes and doing laundry. You can find a new queen who’s not so high maintenance. It will make life easier for all of us.” Ahasuerus divorces Vashti on the spot. Politicians are asking for trouble when they make pronouncements about marriage, but the king sends out a royal decree that whatever the husband says goes and his wife should be grateful if he comes home at all (1:21). In the same royal decree the king says that “beautiful young virgins” should sign up for the inaugural Miss Persia contest—a yearlong affair involving a spa, a team of beauticians, and Jenny Craig. The announcement sounds like an advertisement for The Bachelor: The search is on for eligible women! Do you have the beauty, charm and style to be the next queen? Interested, gorgeous, and submissive women should contact the pageant producers to learn more. The replacement wife for Ahasuerus’ insubordinate queen will be even more beautiful than the original. The winner gets to wear a crown until the king decides to have another contest. The Jews living in Persia who hear this announcement have been far from home for a long time. The temple has been destroyed and thousands deported. Mordecai’s family is among the exiles taken from Jerusalem three generations back. He and his adopted daughter Esther live in competing empires, the kingdom of Ahasuerus and the kingdom of God. Their dual citizenship is symbolized by her two names. To the empire, she is Esther, a loyal citizen with a Persian name. But at home, she is Hadassah. Other than the fact that contestants like Esther are kidnapped, this is a first-rate pageant. Six months of beauty oils follow six months of perfume. Mary Kay should have been the corporate sponsor. Mordecai tells Esther not to tell anyone that she is a Jew. If the truth gets out it might be the end, so she keeps her Jewishness a secret. Esther ignores the dietary laws of her people and has sex with the king for the talent portion of the contest. There are good reasons that many of us have never heard a sermon on Esther. Martin Luther had a point when he complained about the “pagan naughtiness” in the story. After his night with Esther, the king schedules a press conference to introduce the new queen. Every Jew in Persia feels the tension of living as subjects under Gentile rule. Esther has given up enough of her identity that her closest friends are not aware of her Jewishness. It is impossible to follow the Mosaic law without people noticing, so she chooses not to follow the law. When faced with the same decision Jewish heroes like , Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego chose not to hide who they are. But before we are critical of Esther’s decision to keep quiet, we should think about when it makes sense to bide our time, to be thoughtful as well as brave, and to let who we are speak louder than the arguments we make. We want to share who we are without putting down those with whom we disagree. We want to be honest without being judgmental. Sometimes when we cut people off because of differences, we do so to our own detriment. If we have a long history with someone who has treated us well and loved us, is it completely ruined by who they voted for? Shouldn’t we be able to be friends with people with whom we disagree? We need to have conversations where the goal isn’t to change someone’s mind. We can become more inquisitive— “I want to hear more about why you think that”—rather than judgmental— “How could you think that?” Sometimes being faithful is being silent. The world is so angry right now that anyone who chooses not to be angry just to be as angry as everyone else is making a contribution. We do good by not adding to the toxicity that surrounds us, not making judgments against people we have never met, and not holding grudges against those we have. Henri Nouwen writes: “In a world in which competition continues to be the dominant mode of relating, true believers proclaim compassion, not competition, as God’s way.” Some of the most revolutionary movements begin with kindness—the sanctuary movement, Special Olympics, community food pantries, gay pride, and Black Lives Matter. Those movements are, in their best moments, centered in compassion. We live faithfully by lending a hand to someone who is having a tough time, checking on our neighbors, praying for those we think are enemies, encouraging someone who is losing hope, and advocating for someone who’s underprivileged. In February, The New York Times decided it was a good time to share stories about kindness (Sara Aridi, February 13, 2021). Grace Curley writes: “I’ve been walking in the park more often. My heart’s been moved by two friends who meet every morning. They’re male and in their 80s. They arrive separately, each with coffee and a Dunkin’ Donuts bag. They sit on a bench, six feet apart. One doesn’t start his coffee until the other is there. They aren’t particularly talkative with others in the park—I’ve tried. Their focus is on one another.” Carol Lange tells this story: “I have a balance problem after an operation on a brain aneurysm affected my ability to do certain things like bending or looking sideways. One day while walking with a stick through the city, I realized that my shoelace was undone. I just kept walking. Suddenly a young woman stopped and said, “Hey, your shoelace is undone. Let me do it up in case you trip.” She tied the shoelace, smiled, and walked on.” This story is from Susi Reichenbach: “I was walking to the post office. An older, masked couple walked slowly on the other side of the street. During the pandemic, people walk fast, avoid contact and try to get their things done quickly. For a moment, the couple stopped. They kissed through their masks and continued walking. It gave me hope, that even in these times, love and human connection prevail.” Love and human connection are hard. Kindness is often the most difficult thing we can do, especially with those with whom we have friction, but God gives us the strength to be gentle, to hold one another in God’s love. sermon © Brett Younger plymouthchurch.org