Monday, July 27, 2015
That would be like having your foot smashed by an overfilled grocery cart pushed by a little old lady at Aldi’s, and because she doesn’t even turn around or say she’s sorry, you make it your goal to eliminate every little old lady in the state. A counselor might call that an “inappropriate response.”
What was Haman’s problem? Let’s cut to the chase, here. He was a racist. He had been raised a racist. He came from a long line of people who were racists. He was taught as a child to hate Jews, perhaps hearing his father say often, “Jews are different, Jews are not the same as the rest of us, Jews are not good people.” In fact, maybe he was taught that Jews were not really people at all. Listen, racial prejudice is as old as mankind, an ugly sin with incredible power to destroy.
What seared the conscience of a 21-year-old man to the point that he could sit for an hour and have prayer with the nine people he was about to murder in cold blood, simply because they were black? How could Dylann Roof get to the point, even while so young, to write this in his journal: “I have no choice. I am not in the position to, alone, go into the ghetto and fight. I chose Charleston because it is the most historic city in my state, and at one time had the highest ratio of blacks to whites in the country. We have no skinheads, no real KKK, no one doing anything but talking on the internet. Well someone has to have the bravery to take it to the real world, and I guess that has to be me.”
How could Dylann do this? The same way Haman could. They gave themselves over to the power of darkness. You want to know the scariest thing of all? It could happen to anyone not walking in the power of God’s grace. The Bible says about each of us who are now believers, “And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of the world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience.”
Haman was a son of disobedience, seeking to do the bidding of his father, Satan, and to destroy the seed of the coming Messiah. He was not satisfied in just a personal vendetta. He wanted to institutionalize his racism. He sought to use the political machine at his disposal in Persia to make genocide a matter of public policy. He even said to the king, “it is not to the king’s profit to tolerate them (the Jews).”
Chilling words. I wonder which groups in our world have become “unprofitable?” Which religions, or races, or ethnic groups, or even age groups, from the womb to the walker, are in the crosshairs of those who seek to institutionalize their removal?
Sorry, Bob Dylan. The times, they’re not a’changing.
Monday, July 20, 2015
The only way the plan would work would be for Esther to be beautiful. God took care of that and made her exactly the way he chose to, just as he did you and me. Don’t rush past that thought without letting it sink in. Because until we come to terms with how God made us, we will struggle mightily. God made you and me exactly the way he chose to. He chose how tall we would be, and what color our skin and eyes and hair would be. He chose what gender we would be. And he looked on his creation, every one of us, and said, “It is very good.” Until we embrace that, we will struggle with comparisons and discontentment. We will wish we were taller or fairer or darker. We will wish we had curly hair or straight hair or any hair. We will buy into the lie that says our worth is determined by our looks, which leads to bitterness, even bitterness against God. I mean, whom can we blame for our height and hair color and complexion and gender? Just God. We must come to terms with the fact that God made each one of us exactly the way he wanted to, and that God doesn’t make junk. Have you been envious of another person’s position, or appearance, or personality? We all have at one time or another. But if that is something you struggle with on a regular basis, I urge you to tell God about it and ask him to forgive you for your discontentment with the way he made you. Thank him for it, and get on with the more important question of why he made you.
Esther was a woman of great beauty, which opened the door for her to be in the Miss Persia pageant. But it was her inner beauty that God used to open every door after that. To borrow from a familiar quote, “Physical design is God’s gift to you. Character is your gift to God.”
Make it count.
Monday, July 13, 2015
Got the picture? Hundreds, maybe thousands of men. Unlimited wine. Nobody’s working; everyone’s on paid holiday. No wives: they’re all with the queen in another part of the city. And, look! There’s the king, right in the center of the drunken bash, bragging about his riches and his possessions and his building projects and his army and his palace. He keeps bragging and drinking, and the wine slowly takes over the weak will of the egotistical monarch.
I couldn’t help but think of Brad Paisley when I read this story in the first chapter of Esther. I know that some of you have never thought of Brad Paisley, but here are a few lines from his song titled Alcohol: “I can make anybody pretty, I can make you believe any lie; I can make you pick a fight with somebody twice your size. I been known to cause a few breakups, I been known to cause a few births; I can make you new friends or get you fired from work. …I’ve influenced kings and world leaders, I helped Hemingway write like he did; And I’ll bet you a drink or two that I can make you put that lampshade on your head.”
The king does much worse than a lampshade, as the consequences of his drunkenness lead to a broken marriage and a deposed queen. Fueled by alcohol and his own foolish pride, he decides to show something to the men that they have never seen before. At least, not up close. The king may have thought in his inebriated state, “I’ve shown off my power, my pomp, my provision. Why not show them my prize?” They’d seen his golden wine goblets and gold and silver couches and the palace in its splendor. But they had never seen his queen, not like they were about to see her, if the king had his way.
There has been much speculation as to what is meant in chapter one when the king instructs his servants to go and fetch the queen “with her royal crown, in order to show the people and the princes her beauty, for she was lovely to look at.” If it meant that she was to come unveiled, that in itself would have been undignified, a violation of the Persian custom that a woman’s beauty was for the admiration and the enjoyment of her husband alone. Others have suggested that the king meant for his wife to come to his feast wearing only her crown. Either way, Vashti refused to come and be ogled by hundreds of drunken men. Who can blame her?
It is clear to me that the king may have been a provider for his wife, but he was certainly not a protector. A husband that is a protector will put himself in harm’s way before he will allow his wife to suffer humiliation or shame. He would never make her an object for other men’s lusts. He would never ask his wife to do something that would violate her conscience or cause her to sin. In short, he would put her needs above his own.
The sad truth is that this story is repeated in too many households every day. A huge ego, a weak will, and a belly full of alcohol will always be a dangerous combination.
Monday, July 6, 2015
The story takes place in Susa, when the Persians had their 200-year shot at ruling the world. Archaeological findings confirm what the book of Esther teaches.
There are four main characters in the story, and many who played smaller roles. There is King Ahasuerus. He is the central figure in the kingdom, but is not the central figure in the story. In fact, though he reigns over the known world, he is the weakest of the four main characters. I can’t help but cast Nicholas Cage in the part of the king. We are introduced to Mordecai in chapter 2: “Now there was a Jew in Susa the citadel named Mordecai.” I love this guy, as he plays the part of the voice of truth and the man of God in the story. I’m going to pick Dustin Hoffman for this pivotal role. Mordecai has been forced from his home in Jerusalem and is living in this foreign land, and has raised his much younger cousin there. That’s Esther. She is the heroine of the story, and some who heard me preach an introduction to this story last week suggested I cast Jennifer Lawrence in the role, though I like Keisha Castle-Hughes better. There’s no evidence that Esther was any good with the bow and arrow, but she was definitely clever, courageous and humble. I think of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, when Malvolio said, “Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.” The irony in this story is the one who most aspired to greatness, Haman, is the one from whom greatness is snatched away. The least likely woman in the whole empire to have greatness thrust upon her was Esther, a Jewess living in exile. That brings us to the last character, the evil Haman. Some suggest Tom Hardy for this role, although I like David Strathairn as the presumptuous antagonist. Haman is promoted above all the other officials and essentially becomes the King’s right hand man. He hates Mordecai because Mordecai will not bow and scrape before Haman like the rest of Susa does. Haman finds out that Mordecai is a Jew and hatches his plot to have Mordecai and every Jew in the kingdom slaughtered on a given day. The King signs the genocidal decree into law, and the law of the Persians cannot be revoked. What Haman doesn’t know, and what the king doesn’t know, is that Esther is a Jew, so the king has signed his wife’s death warrant. What will happen? Will Mordecai be able to escape the gallows Haman has built for him? Will Esther keep silent about her heritage and faith, even while her cousin and all the rest of the Jews perish? Or will she come up with a plan to not only save herself but save her people as well? Read the story in the Bible and see for yourself.
By the way, this book almost did not make it into the 66 books of the canon because there is no mention of God anywhere in it. His fingerprints are all over it, however, and we learn that even when we think God is absent, He is not.
This story has it all.