Esther: Mechanics & Messianics

1 The Book of Esther: Mechanics & Messianics Summary: When the king backs Haman’s decree, Esther is faced with a major predicament. She’s been selected as Persia’s replacement queen not simply because of her natural beauty, but because of her (apparent) lack of allegiance to any particular people. And yet she now finds herself forced to defend her people, the Jews—a people who’ve exhibited exactly the kind of insubordination as Vashti did. Remarkably, Esther succeeds in her task, and the way in which she does so has distinctly Messianic overtones. Keywords: Esther, Ahasuerus, Haman, Messianic, Jewish tradition, liturgy, Psalm 22. Date: Apr. 2021. Credits: R. David Fohrman’s The Queen You Thought You Knew.1 Many of the events described in Esther are difficult to parse. An important example is Esther’s initial appearance before the king. When Esther approaches Ahasuerus in order to seek her people’s deliverance and is handed a blank cheque, why doesn’t she simply reveal her identity (as a Jew) and ask the king to deliver her people (and/or to dispose of Haman)? Our story could have been done and dusted in a mere five chapters. True, the irrevocability of the Medo-Persians’ laws may have complicated matters. But Esther could always have asked the king to issue a counter-decree (like ch. 8’s). Why, then, all the feasts and dissimulation? Why look a gift horse in the mouth? 1. Fohrman, Rabbi D., 2011. The Queen You Thought You Knew. HFBS Publishing in conj. w. OU Press, 1st ed. Ulmer, R., 2011. ‘Psalm 22 in Pesiqta Rabbati: The Suffering of the Jewish Messiah and Jesus’ in Z. Garber (ed.), The Jewish Jesus: Revelation, Reflection, Reclamation, Purdue University.  2 Elsewhere, I’ve proffered an answer based on intertextual considerations (esp. the feasts of 1 Sam. 20).2 In the present note, I want to explore an answer based on Esther’s inner logic. Consider, by way of recap, how the book of Esther opens and the purpose of ch. 1’s events. The king has recently acquired a vast empire (comprised of 127 provinces). And, in the 2nd year of his reign, he’s had to suppress revolts in Babylon and Egypt. Ch. 1’s feast, set in the king’s 3rd year, is presumably, therefore, supposed to cement Persia’s ranks. Ahasuerus wants loyal subjects, so he seeks to unite them around a common spectacle—to captivate them with the glory and might of the Persian way. And, for the feast’s grand finale, the king summons Vashti. The people will surely be dazzled by the beauty and majesty of Persia’s queen, adorned in her crown. Or so the king thinks. Vashti, however, has other ideas, which is a real spanner in the works as far as the purpose of the king’s feast is concerned. Vashti is supposed to set an example for the women of Persia to follow. And she does (1.16–17). But it’s hardly the kind of example the king wants other women to follow; it’s an example of the very behaviour the king wants to deter among his subjects—behaviour fuelled by individualism, disaffection, and insubordination. Vashti is thus banished, and the king begins to search for a new queen, which brings Esther to the stage. 3 In light of the above background, it’s not hard to see why king is so taken by Esther. Unlike Vashti, Esther doesn’t have any particular agenda of her own. She only takes what Hegai advises her to take from the harem (2.15). And, per Mordecai’s advice, she doesn’t speak to the king about her ethnic identity. Consequently, Esther doesn’t come across as overly individualistic, nor does she come across as a woman who represents a particular people-group or locality. As Rabbi David Fohrman puts it, 2. On which cp. «https://www.academia.edu/40042595/». 3. Note: Nebuchadnezzar’s ceremony (in Dan. 3) looks to have been motivated by a similar desire and hit a similar snag. In both cases, different people-groups are gathered, an extravagant ceremony/feast is staged, a decree is pronounced and— contra the whole purpose of the ceremony/feast—disobeyed, and the king is thereby filled with rage (‫)חמה‬. And, since Nebuchadnezzar is portrayed as a typical example of a Gentile king in Scripture (Dan. 2.38), it seems reasonable to view ch. 1’s events in a similar light.  3 ‘Esther could be from anywhere—or everywhere’; she’s able to represent the whole kingdom. While, therefore, we frequently read of ‘Mordecai the Jew’, never do we read of ‘Esther the Jew’ (even after she’s revealed her identity). Esther is a citizen of Persia in its best and broadest sense. That very fact, however, makes life difficult for Esther when Mordecai asks her to petition the king on behalf of her people. Esther has advertised/sold herself to the king on the basis she’s not wedded to a particular people-group. And Haman has given Ahasuerus a perfectly good reason to dispose of the Jews. (Like Vashti, the Jews are individualistic and insubordinate and should thus be removed: cp. 3.8.) How, then, can Esther now put her love of her own people above the good of Persia, whom she’s supposed to represent? It would undercut her USP as Persia’s queen. Esther therefore needs to make things personal. She clearly can’t rely on the king’s concern for the Jews. She needs to make it seem as Haman’s existence is a threat to her life and persuade the king to act on the basis of his concern/desire for her rather than her people. Which is precisely what she seeks to do. If Esther is to succeed, however, she’ll need to be as wise as a serpent and innocent as a dove. After all, Esther’s life isn’t really in danger,4 so a certain amount of dissimulation will be necessary. 5 And it won’t be easy to convince the king to punish Haman on the basis of his decree to eradicate the Jews, since the decree (quite literally) has the king’s name all over it. Esther therefore plays her cards carefully. First she arouses the king’s suspicions (and perhaps also his jealousy), and then, once the king is well oiled, she startles him with news of Haman’s (alleged) intention to kill her. (Esther didn’t want the king to have time to reflect on Haman’s actual intentions and/or the generosity of his donations to the treasury.) The specifics of Esther’s method can be summarised as follows: 4. 4.14 could be taken to suggest otherwise. For my proposed interpretation of it, cp. «https://www.academia.edu/40042595/». 5. True, Haman’s decree called for the annihilation of the entire Jewish race. But Esther hadn’t yet revealed her identify, and even if her identity did become known, the king would surely be able to protect her if he wanted.  4 • Esther enters the king’s presence without an official invitation, which implies an urgent situation has arisen. • When the king asks Esther what she wants, she doesn’t blurt out her request; she’d rather discuss the matter with the king at a more opportune moment, she says, namely at a feast she’s prepared. Esther thus gives the impression her issue is a sensitive one. In addition, she phrases her invitation in a deliberately ambiguous manner. In the presence of both the king and Haman, Esther refers to a banquet she’s prepared ‘for him’. For who exactly? For the king? Or for Haman? Esther thereby arouses the king’s curiosity, and perhaps also his jealousy. And then, rather than reveal exactly what the problem is at the (first) banquet, Esther asks the king to attend a second banquet the next day, which keeps him in suspense. It may even have been part of the reason why the king couldn’t sleep before the second banquet. • When Esther finally reveals her problem to the king, she makes it clear she isn’t motivated by merely nationalistic concerns; her primary concern is the welfare of Persia. If her enemy has his way, she says, the Jews will be slain, which will be a great loss to the king (7.4). Esther’s words are carefully chosen. The grammar of her statement is intended to portray her as a passive member of an endangered people-group (rather than as their representative or spokesperson6). And, since Esther employs a passive verbal form (‫‘ = נמכרנו‬we’ve been sold’), her question doesn’t specify who has given Esther’s people over to destruction, which is handy since it happens to have been the king! Equally well thought-out is Esther’s decision to raise the issue at a banquet, since it means the king is 6. Throughout the book of Esther (with the exception of the verse at hand), constructions of the form Verb-Subject-A-waw-Subject-B are conjugated on the basis of Subject A, which frames Subject A as the lead agent (or similar). The text of 7.4, however, is an exception. Esther doesn’t say ‫נִמְ כ ְַרתִ י אֲ נִי ו ְעַ מִ י‬, but ‫נִמְ כ ְַרנו אֲ נִי ו ְעַ מִ י‬. Esther thus portrays herself as a passive member of her people rather than an advocate/spokesman for them. Note: The other Verb-Subject-A-waw-Subject-B constructions in Esther are as follows: ‫( קָ צַף בגתן ותרש‬cp. 2.21), ‫( גם־אני וְנַעֲ ר ֹתַ י אצום כן‬cp. 4.16), ‫( י ָבוא המלך והמן‬cp. 5.4, 5.8, 7.1), ‫( ו ַת ֹאמֶ ר לו זרש אשתו וכל־אהביו‬cp. 5.14), ‫( ו ַתִ כְת ֹב אסתר המלכה בת־אביחיל ומרדכי‬cp. 9.29), ‫( קִ יַם עליהם מרדכי היהודי ואסתר‬cp. 9.31).  5 separated from his legal team (cp. 1.13, etc.), which makes him more likely to make a rash decision. Given Esther’s careful preparation (together with God’s providence), Esther’s announcement to the king in 7.4 has its intended effect. The king is astounded by what he hears, yet at the same time he doesn’t find it hard to believe. Only the night before he was reminded of an attempt on his own life (6.1–2). The king’s surprise is reflected in 7.5’s syntax, viz. ‫‘ = ו ַי ֹאמֶ ר הַ מֶ לֶך אֲ חַ שְ ו ֵרוש ו ַי ֹאמֶ ר לְאֶ סְ תֵ ר‬King Ahasuerus said, and he said to Esther…’. The king seems to have opened his mouth to say something and found himself lost for words.7 Once he’s composed himself, however, the king asks Esther to tell him who has dared threaten his queen (and her people),8 which brings us to the climax of ch. 7’s events as Esther finally unmasks Haman’s identity. ‘My foe and enemy’, she declares, ‘is none other than that wicked Haman!’. Needless to say, Haman is as terrified as the king is enraged, and he no doubt fears the worst. But, rather than immediately pronounce Haman’s doom, the king retreats to his palace garden, apparently to cool off. (Perhaps he wants to work out how he can punish Haman and not implicate himself at the same time.) From Esther’s perspective, his retreat to the garden is far from ideal, since Esther doesn’t want the king to have time to mull things over; she wants the king’s decision to be fuelled by a cocktail of anger and wine rather than by careful consideration. The king’s retreat could easily, therfore, have undone Esther’s plans. Yet, by a remarkable stroke of good fortune--not the first in the book--, the king returns just in time to find Haman fallen prostrate on Esther’s couch, and the king’s dilemma is thus solved. He can dispose of Haman without any reference to ‘the Jewish decree’ at all. Haman’s assault on the queen alone is worthy of the death penalty, which the king duly pronounces. 9 Moments later, Haman is led away and hung on his own gallows. 7. Alternatively, the king’s hesitation may reflect a moment of regret/realisation, since he may have recalled a recent occasion when he signed a certain people’s death warrant. 8. The king’s question (‫ )מִ י הוא זֶה ו ְאֵ י־זֶה הוא‬is reminiscent of Esther’s question to Mordecai in 4.5 (when Mordecai came to visit her in sackcloth, viz. ‫)מַ ה־זֶה ו ְעַ ל־מַ ה־זֶה‬, since it reflects a similar horror. 9. Despite all her carefully-laid plans, then, Esther would still not have been able to make a final end of Haman but for the providential handiwork of God.  6 NT echoes As we’ve seen, the book of Esther isn’t simply an isolated story about some exiles in Susa; it’s the culmination of an age-old rivalry (between Saul and Agag).10 It also happens to resonate with NT theology in a number of important ways, since it forms part of a rich exodus-shaped tapestry. Consider, for instance, the nature of Esther’s confrontation with Haman. When Haman first arises, Esther is safely tucked away in the upper ranks of Persia’s soceity. In order to deliver her people, then, Esther must become more like her kinsmen. She must openly associate herself with the Jewish people and put herself in the crosshairs of Haman’s decree. Esther’s actions thus have distinctly Mosaic and—from a Christian perspective—Messianic overtones. These overtones are underscored by the chronology of Esther’s mission. Esther arises to seek her people’s deliverance in the month of the Passover, puts herself within the reach of death on the eve of the Passover, and, three days later, is granted life (3.12, 4.1ff.). The climax of Esther’s story also repays careful study, since it resonates with the climax of Passion week in some important ways. As we’ve noted elsewhere,11 the book of Esther arranges many of its scenes in couplets, whose events are juxtaposed against one another. (For instance, while Haman and the king sit down to drink wine in the palace, panic breaks out in the city. While Esther enjoys the finery of the palace, Mordecai stands outside in sackcloth. And so on.) The close of the book of Esther involves similar couplets of scenes. On 13th Adar, as the Jews gain the upper hand in Susa, their enemies mourn their losses. On 14 th Adar, as the Jews in Susa fight, the Jews outside of Susa feast. And the day afterwards (15th Adar), as the Jews in Susa feast, the Jews outside of Susa return to their daily lives. 10. For details, cp. «https://www.academia.edu/40042595/». 11. For details, cp. «https://www.academia.edu/40087250/».  7 These couplets find a curious echo in the Passion narrative, which, like Esther’s story, climaxes in two consecutive ‘special/feast days’ (viz. Passover and Unleavened Bread) and appears to involve two opportunities to ‘eat the Passover’ (cp. John 18.28). As a result, disparate couplets of activities unfold in tandem on three consecutive days, just as they do in Esther’s case. On 14th Nisan, as Israel prepares to feast, Jesus defends himself against Pilate and the ‘bulls of Bashan’ (cp. Psa. 22). On 15th Nisan, as Jesus’ enemies ‘eat the Passover’, the disciples mourn. And, on 16th Nisan, as life returns to normal in Israel at the start of a new week, life’s great reversal takes place—the resurrection —, at which point the disciples rejoice. As can be seen, then, Esther’s final Adar resonates with Jesus’ final Nisan—or, to put the point another way, Esther’s Purim resonates with Jesus’ Passover. Indeed, in ‘leap years’, it wouldn’t have been unheard of for different Jewish communities to celebrate Purim and Passover in tandem (due to different methods of intercalation), which creates an unusual association/overlap between the two feasts, and the Purim regulations with which Esther concludes are distinctly Passover-esque (cp. esp. Est. 9.28ff. w. Exod. 12.14–17, 42). 12 Note: That the events of Purim and Passover embody similar themes is reflected in the way Psalm 22 has become an integral part of both Jewish Purim liturgy and Christian Good Friday liturgy.13 In Jewish tradition, Esther is portrayed as a Messianic figure who has to undergo a time of trail and tribulation (cp. her three-day fast) in order to overcome her enemies and deliver her people, and whose experiences are peculiarly reflected in Psa. 22 (Ulmer 2011). Esther is said to be ‘the deer of the dawn’ (‫)אילת השחר‬. Her tongue cleaves to the roof of her mouth due to her three-day fast (cf. Psa. 22.15), and the ‘strange bulls of Bashan’ who surround her are Haman’s ten sons (cf. 22.12). 12. That we find any feast-related regulations at all in the book of Esther is in fact very unusual, since every other Jewish feast has its origins and regulations in the Pentateuch. 13. Lexical contact points between Est. and Psa. 22 include the phrase ‫חָ פֵ ץ בו‬, the assonance between ‫פָרים‬ ִ and ‫פֻרים‬, ִ and the mention of ‘lots’ (‫)גורל‬.  8 True, the parallels between Jesus’ final Passover and Esther’s final Adar aren’t exact, but they are sufficient (in my view) to be suggestive. And, of course, if Esther’s deliverance of Israel foreshadows the work of the Messiah, then Haman’s downfall foreshadows the fall of Israel’s ultimate enemy, namely Satan. Just as Haman plans out his victim’s downfall on a particular day (and by a particular means), so Satan plans out Jesus’. And, just as the ‘tree’ (‫ )עֵ ץ‬on which Haman seeks to hang his enemy becomes the means of Haman’s downfall, so the cross/tree become the means of Satan’s (1 Cor. 2.7–8). These parallels are no coincidence. Ultimately, God’s enemies are all judged in a similar way. By their words and actions, they condemn themselves (some more literally than others), and, in the end, they receive what they deserve. Haman’s downfall also finds a significant echo in Pilate’s. Just as Haman is granted power over the life of Mordecai, so Pilate is granted power over Jesus’, which is bestowed on him ‘from above’ (John 19.11). Just as Mordecai is delivered into Haman’s hand in exchange for silver, so too is Jesus (cp. Judas’ bribe: Matt. 26.15). Just as Haman’s wife warns him to distance himself from Mordecai (due to a premonition she has received), so too Pilate’s wife warns him away from Jesus. And yet, just as it is too late for Haman to act on his wife’s advice (since he’s whisked away by the king’s men: 6.14), so Pilate is carried along by the multitude and unable to wash his hands of Jesus’ blood. Again, these parallels are no coincidence. Satan works by means of human intermediaries, and often employs similar means to manipulate their behaviour. The love of money, the fear of mob rule, greed, cowardice: these are tried and tested weapons in Satan’s arsenal, and, sadly, they lie behind the rise of many of the world’s Hamans. Final reflections Many commentators consider it fruitless to examine the coherence of Esther’s plot. ‘Too much pursuit of precision’, says one, ‘is unwise...when the text is so vague’. But, in my experience at least, the details of Esther’s plot repay careful study. Even the few details discussed in the present note afford us valuable insight into the subtleties and sensitivities  9 of Esther’s mission, which are important for us to appreciate. Esther doesn’t deliver her people in the manner of a Gideon or a David. She has more in common with men like Joseph and Daniel—men who work within the Gentile world and seek to direct its power towards godly ends —, though even then, her role is quite different from theirs. Esther can better be thought of as a sanctified version of John’s ‘woman who rides the beast’ (Rev. 17), though of course, in Esther’s case, the beast’s horns don’t turn on her; rather, Esther turns the beast on its own horns (cp. Haman’s ten sons?), and hence leads the beast to dehorn itself (cp. Zech. 1.20–21).14 Esther’s story also adds nuance to the OT concept of a Messiah. For Esther, the deliverance of the Jewish people is not fundamentally about war or superior might; it is about danger, dissimulation, and irony, all of which are (quite remarkably) an integral part of Jesus’ Messianic mission. 14. Can Esther even be seen as one of the ‘four craftsmen’ (‫)ארבָעָ ה חָ ָרשִ ים‬ְ mentioned in Zech. 1.20? She can certainly be described as ‫ חרש‬insofar as she’s ‘silent’ about her identity at the outset of the book (cp. 4.14). And, curiously, Zech. 1b’s vision is set against the backdrop of a group of ‘myrtle trees’ (‫ הֲ דַ סִ ים‬cp. 1.8), which, of course, resonates with the name ‫הֲ דַ סָ ה‬.