Before we continue with the story before us, I want to make a couple of further comments on what we looked at last week. Firstly, I came across something that expresses the point I was trying to make last week regarding Esther’s choice, and it puts it far better than I could or did do (quote Jobes pp.114,5).
Then, secondly, notice the details of 2:18. Esther is elevated into the king’s affections and all the people benefit from it. We need to remember that Esther is a Jew, a descendant of Abraham to whom God said, “All peoples on earth will be blessed through you”. This small detail reminds us that God’s purpose still stands and was being worked out, even in ancient Persia.
1. Mordecai: A Good Citizen
Onto the next scene. The virgins are assembled a second time for Xerxes (his choice of Esther is not to the exclusion of all others) and “Mordecai was sitting at the king’s gate”. That would be a good place to try to keep an eye out for Esther (cf. 2:11) but we’re also being told something far more significant (and in case we miss it, it gets repeated in v.21). To sit in the gate implies that a person has some kind of official position relating to the court of the King.
Maybe Mordecai got to be where he was as a result of being Esther’s cousin; maybe not. But what is certain is that he was not a man who withdrew from engaging with life in pagan Persia; he did not retreat into an other-worldly pietism. Mordecai played his part in the life of the nation and a significant one at that.
What we see him doing here is just what the Lord had urged his people to do in Jer. 29:4-7 – he was seeking the welfare of the city, he was honouring the king. This is quite striking given his Jewish identity but even more so given what has happened to Esther (the LXX suggests that he would like to have married her).
But Mordecai is not a man consumed with desire for revenge. He is not out to destabilise the king; in fact, we’re told that the opposite is true – he overhears of a plot to assassinate the king and, through Esther, reports it to the king.
Here is a Jew standing up for a pagan king and one who had taken and used his beloved cousin at that! The contrast here is quite marked – those who oppose the king (Vashti, Bigthana and Teresh) are Persians; the ones who stand by the king are Jews.
Peter urges us in his first letter to “honour the king”; Paul reminds us that ‘the powers that be’ are put there by God himself. Mordecai is a man who recognises that and who is able to entrust the future of his people to the care of God, even while he serves the pagan king with a robust loyalty.
The example of Mordecai at this point is significant and needs to be taken to heart. He was not into protest politics but neither was he withdrawn from active engagement in the society where he had been taken.
But just because he was a good citizen didn’t mean he would get what was due him. To act as he did was worthy of reward (as 6:3 makes clear). But although his action was recorded, Mordecai wasn’t
rewarded. In fact, just when we expect to hear that the king has favoured him, we read instead that he honoured Haman!
Life is not straightforward. We must take God’s Word seriously and do all we can to live quiet and productive lives. We must seek the welfare of the society we live in. But there are no guarantees that our efforts will be successful and, if they are, that we will be rewarded in some way. Life in this world is often unjust – we need to recognise that and be prepared to live with it.
2. Haman and hatred: the clash of kingdoms
Haman is honoured where Mordecai isn’t. We aren’t told why the king honours him but we are told something of his pedigree: Haman, the son of Hammedatha, was an Agagite, a people also known as Amalekties and some of the longest-standing enemies of the Jews.
And the events that unfold show us just how deep that ancient hostility runs. When Haman feels slighted by Mordecai, he vents his fury not simply on the man but on the whole people. This scene is very disturbing and it leads us into a bigger biblical perspective.
Regarding that larger perspective, someone has written that “An assault on God’s covenant people at anytime in human history is really an attack on the authority, power and character of God himself.” And that attack on God himself springs from a source deeper than the human heart. What we’re seeing here is yet another instance of the war waged by the serpent upon the Lord which issues in terrible violence upon his people (see Rev. 12).
We’re to seek the welfare of the city but at the same time we’re not to be naïve about life in this world. We’re in a warfare situation and we can expect to be the targets of some very fierce opposition.
As we see the story of Haman’s rage against the Jews unfold, we need to remember that this isn’t just about one mean-spirited and hard-hearted man; this is about a whole spirit of opposition to God and his purposes and people. Our wrestling is not against flesh and blood but against principalities and powers – but those powers often manifest their enmity against God and his people through flesh and blood, through characters such as Haman.
We need to know that. We need to be ready for that.
3. Mordecai: A right to hate?
But one of the big issues that this chapter then forces us to face is how we handle the inevitable tension that exists in this world and the antipathy demonstrated by so many against the church.
Mordecai refuses to kneel down and honour Haman which the king has said should be done. Why does he do that? It isn’t a case of Jewish sensibilities over idolatry, for Mordecai no doubt would bow down to the king. And the same verse in Peter that tells us to honour the king also tells us to “show proper respect to everyone”.
The writer wants us to know that Mordecai’s reaction to Haman is a result of the ancient hostilities that existed between the Jews and the Agagites; that’s why we get to know Haman’s ancestry.
The big question that we need to ask – and which the author clearly raises but doesn’t necessarily answer for us – is whether it was right and wise for Mordecai to refuse to honour Haman.
Certainly he wasn’t worthy of such honour – but, frankly, neither was the king! So what should Mordecai have done? Is it possible that he could have honoured Haman without feeling that he had somehow defiled himself and compromised the faith? There seems no reason to suggest that he could not have done so.
Which leads us to ask and reflect upon whether the stands we take on various issues are principled and mandated by scripture or whether they’re down to personality and mood? If it is the latter, we need to be aware that our imprudence may put others in difficulty and cause problems for the gospel.
We need to stop and think very carefully about what the Lord expects of us in our relations with the world. He clearly wants us to be free from idols and not be deceived into worshipping false gods (such as prestige and power). But he also calls us to be salt and light, to be effective and attractive in our whole-life witness.
And at the heart of that witness is to be an attitude of peacemaking, of turning the other cheek, of gentle answers turning away wrath. Is it too harsh to suggest Mordecai could have done better by heeding Prov. 25:21f?
But we can also sympathise with his situation. He may well have felt trapped by ancient hostilities and unable to break free. His ancestor, Saul, did wrong and compromised by allowing Agag to live; maybe Mordecai is fearful of making a similar mistake? If we feel trapped by circumstances or history, we need to look to God for his freedom.
4. So who’s in charge?
Whether Mordecai should have taken a gentler approach or not, his refusal to honour Haman brings down the full fury of the state against the Jews. They are in grave danger. The lot is cast and a date is set for the destruction of the Jews and decree is written out on the eve of Passover.
Prov 16:33 tells us that though the lot is cast into the lap, its every decision is from the Lord and Passover was a reminder of his covenant love to Israel. Would he come through for his people? Or has Mordecai been just too foolish? We must let the book teach us!
