Violence and the Survival of Israel in the Book of Esther The Harvard community has made this article openly available. Please share how this access benefits you. Your story matters Citation Wetzel, Thomas A. 2015. Violence and the Survival of Israel in the Book of Esther. Doctoral dissertation, Harvard Divinity School. Citable link http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:HUL.InstRepos:22801840 Terms of Use This article was downloaded from Harvard University’s DASH repository, and is made available under the terms and conditions applicable to Other Posted Material, as set forth at http:// nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:HUL.InstRepos:dash.current.terms-of- use#LAA Violence and the Survival of Israel in the Book of Esther A dissertation presented by Thomas A. Wetzel to the Faculty of Harvard Divinity School in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Theology in the subject of Hebrew Bible Harvard University Cambridge, Massachusetts June 2015 © 2015 Thomas A. Wetzel All rights reserved. Dissertation Advisor: Jon D. Levenson Thomas A. Wetzel Violence and the Survival of Israel in the Book of Esther Abstract The book of Esther stands in a complex relationship to the Christian tradition. Accepted as canonical by ancient Israel, Judaism, and Christianity, the book nonetheless is known in the Church not for its powerful narrative of Jewish deliverance, but rather for the ways in which Christian interpreters have rejected the narrative as too violent and too “Jewish” to be normative in any way for Christians. Reading the Hebrew version of the Esther story preserved in the Masoretic Text, one at first notices the story’s complete lack of overt references to Israel, Torah, or even the God of Israel, suggesting to many gentiles throughout Christian history that it is not a religious narrative, but rather a story of Jewish nationalism “gone mad” in a willful excess of ethnic violence, as one interpreter has described it. Reading the narrative with attention to the myriad of canonical allusions contained within the story, however, the interpreter will recognize that the God of Israel is indeed present in the Esther story, manifest precisely in the perduring presence of his covenantal partners, the Jews. This reading of the narrative is made apparent in the Septuagint versions of the Esther story, which display their religious sensibilities overtly. But this reading is also evident in the Masoretic Text, seen first in the victory of Esther and Mordecai over Haman. This victory both represents and embodies the Jewish victory over Amalek, the cosmic opponent whose existence throughout history has continually challenged and undermined the divine order in creation. The reader then sees that Israel is present in the Esther story in the zeraʻ hayyĕhûdîm, the seed of the Jews who (perhaps even unknowingly) enact a real and efficacious form of liturgical memory in their fasting, penitence, and military action. Despite the characters’ (and the narrative’s) religious iii silence, the portrayal of Jewish victory in the Esther story challenges the Church to rethink its understanding of salvation history, as well as the Church’s place in the biblical understanding of God’s covenant with Israel and the divine order of creation. iv Table of Contents Abstract iii Acknowledgements vi Chapter One. “Establish Me for All Generations” 1 Chapter Two. A Set of Greek Correctives 37 Chapter Three. A Gentile Warning and a Revelation 74 Chapter Four. Seeds of History, Seeds of Holiness 109 Chapter Five. “Reveal Yourself in this Time of Our Afflictions” 165 Bibliography 204 v Acknowledgements Jon Levenson served as my teacher, my advisor, and my dissertation director during my studies at the Divinity School. In all of these situations, he was a careful reader, a challenging guide, and a constant reminder never to take our shared discipline too seriously. I am only beginning to understand the delicacy and delight he brings to his work as an interpreter of Scripture and the traditions that grow from it. I hope that parts of this project represent a stumbling attempt to work with Scripture as richly and with as much nuance as he does. Paul Hanson not only came out of retirement to see my dissertation through to its defense, but he also was (and remains) for me the epitome of the collegiality and joy found in an academic life well lived. One of my fondest memories of my course work involves a walk with Paul across Harvard Yard that was interrupted at least five times by custodians, secretaries, and other staff at the university who greeted Paul with warmth and humor and welcomed me because I was with him. D. Andrew Teeter offered his services as a reader of my dissertation even though we had never met, much less studied together. His careful work in preparation for my defense gave to me a light and clarity that helped me to understand my own views better. I hope that our time together has been but the beginning of a long academic friendship. Kathryn Kunkel, the administrator of the Divinity School’s doctoral program, miraculously blends kindness and good will with the ability to keep her charges to deadlines and on task. It is safe to say that I would easily have fallen through the historic cracks and fissures of Harvard University were it not for Kathryn’s encouragement and attention. Three faculty members at Marquette University strongly encouraged me to pursue doctoral work in biblical studies, and I owe it to them that I even considered such a crazy venture. Fr. Joseph Mueller and Sharon Pace challenged me to reach beyond my perceived limits and to find in that place new horizons. Deirdre Dempsey reminds me always that the study of the Bible must have heart and soul. I count each of them as friends and have learned from each of them much of what that word means. Don Damsteegt of Mount Mercy University not only turned out to be a relative I had never known but also unleashed me on the Adult Education Forum at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and it was in those presentations that I finally understood what I meant to argue in my dissertation. Several members of the theology department at Loyola University Chicago offered support and encouragement during my time there as an adjunct, especially Catherine Wolf, Marianne Wolfe, Susan Ross, and Dennis Martin. Kristy Raine of the Busse Library at Mount Mercy University is one of the most conscientious and thoughtful librarians I have ever met, and I’ve known many. She aimed me in better research directions more than once, especially as I have learned to navigate the seemingly infinite riches of electronic databases. vi While he may no longer remember it, Michael Wise started me on this journey many, many years ago during my brief time as an undergraduate at Trinity College in Deerfield, Illinois. Michael then was my academic advisor and strongly encouraged me to enroll in his biblical Hebrew course, setting me on a path that it has taken literally decades finally to understand and appreciate. It may seem odd in an academic setting to acknowledge the work of automotive dealerships, but the staffs at McGrath City Honda of Chicago and Classic Scion of Waukegan created quiet and relaxing environments in which more than a few pages of my dissertation were formed. On a more personal level, I am deeply grateful to Cliff and Linda Williams, a wonderful couple who have been present at every step of my academic journey, always full of love and friendship and a shared love of the life of the mind and the joys of the written word. My parents-in-law, Dorothy and Max Ranft, have been two of my biggest fans and have constantly showered me in encouragement. Their family gatherings are feasts of food and thought, offered with grace, humor, and in abundance. Lastly, to my wife and the love of my life Kate Ranft, I owe a debt of gratitude for challenging me to pursue and continue this wonderful adventure. There are not enough words to speak of my love for her and the joy she has brought to my life. You make me complete, and you are present in every word I write. Park Ridge, Illinois 2 July 2015 vii Chapter One. “Establish Me for All Generations” “Theology,” says Stanley Hauerwas, “is the delicate art necessary for the Christian community to keep its story straight.”1 The “story” of the Church, according to Hauerwas, consists of the Church’s shared narratives, as well as the beliefs and practices that arise out of the Church’s reflection on those shared narratives. At its root the story of the Church is the biblical canon. As a result, Hauerwas can also assert that “at least one of the tasks of theology [. .] is to provide a timeful reading of the scripture for our time.”2 A “timeful” reading must bring the beliefs and practices of the Church today into meaningful contact with those shared narratives of the Church’s canonical Scriptures. Without such contact, the story of the Church falls apart; and without a coherent story, the life of the Church falls apart. Regardless of his own skill as a biblical exegete, Hauerwas here has touched upon the critical role that biblical exegesis plays in the Church. As the bishops of the Catholic Church expressed this at the Second Vatican Council, all the teaching of the Church rests ultimately on a coherent canon of the Bible: Sacred theology rests on the written word of God, together with sacred tradition, as its primary and perpetual foundation.