Overview
The book of Esther narrates the deliverance of God’s people from the schemes of Haman, who plots the death of every Jew in the Persian Empire over a personal insult (Est. 3:6). The book depicts this common biblical theme of deliverance as God’s people live in exile, under the authority of a Gentile king, without priests to consult or an army to fight for them. It also shows the kindness of the Lord to a portion of Abraham’s seed that seems to have forgotten about him. As argued below, the book’s famous silence about God is best interpreted not as a sign that God is uninvolved but as a sign that the Jews living in Persia are Jewish only in regard to their customs and ethnic identity, with no special allegiance to the God of Abraham. One consequence of their spiritual insensitivity is that the real victory God gives his people is muted and obscured. This prompts modern-day believers, who are also living in exile (cf. 1 Pet. 1:1), to consider how they can look for God’s deliverance amid hostility, as well as how they can speak about God to spread his fame among the nonbelievers all around them.
Author
The author of Esther reveals nothing about himself in his text. A number of details of Persian life imply he lived there, and his concern for Purim in chapters 8–9 suggests he was Jewish. Otherwise, he obscures his own personality to focus on God’s deliverance of his people.
Date and Occasion
The Persian king Ahasuerus is better known as Xerxes I, who ruled from 486 to 465 BC. (“Xerxes” and “Ahasuerus” are Greek and Hebrew renderings of his Persian name.) The book does not record the death of the king or of other major characters, but seems to have been written after Purim had been celebrated for some time (9:19). A date late in Ahasuerus’s reign is perhaps the most likely time of composition.
The book’s purpose is to explain the original circumstances leading to the creation of the Feast of Purim so that its meaning will never be forgotten. The author wishes his people never to lose the memory of the great deliverance that prompted the first Purim as they continue its celebration.
Genre and Literary Features
Although they are perhaps not very well known, the two most helpful genre classifications for the book of Esther are historical novella and diaspora story. To speak of Esther as a historical novella is in no way to disparage its historical veracity; three references to royal chronicles (2:23; 6:1; 10:2) imply the main events of the narrative can be verified. Rather, this term helps distinguish Esther from more straightforward accounts, such as Ezra or Nehemiah. The book’s humor, vivid characterizations, and abundance of coincidences and reversals all imply the author is giving us reliable history in the form of a story. Thus we will have to attend to the book as a story, with characters and unfolding plot, to learn what the narrator would teach us.
But what kind of story is it? Elsewhere in the OT we find the dangers and possibilities of Jewish life in exile brought into sharp focus. The book of Daniel, especially chapters 1–6, is perhaps the best biblical text to compare with the book of Esther. Both books show Jews struggling in foreign settings potentially hostile to them, without the benefits of living in the Promised Land, such as a standing army, priests receiving messages from God, and so on. (The story of Joseph from Genesis may be an early precursor to this, and the noncanonical book of Tobit is another good example of a diaspora story.) Although Esther and Daniel portray God’s intervention in the world in very different ways, they both focus on living wisely in exile in a way Ezra and Nehemiah (e.g.) do not, even though both Ezra and Nehemiah held high positions in foreign courts. This leads us to watch for how Esther, through its story, portrays living successfully in exile.
One important feature of this story is its tight structure. The descent of the plot to the point of most danger for the Jews is mirrored perfectly in their deliverance, with the king’s sleepless night as the turning point:
(A) The greatness of Ahasuerus (1:1–2)
(B) Two banquets (for men and women) (1:3–9)
(C) The elevation of Haman (3:1)
(D) The edict against the Jews (3:7–15)
(E) Mordecai informs Esther of the plot against the Jews (4:1–9)
(F) Esther’s first banquet with the king and Haman (5:1–8)
(G) Turning point: The king’s sleepless night (6:1)
(F') Esther’s second banquet with the king and Haman (7:1)
(E') Esther informs Ahasuerus of the plot against the Jews (7:3–6)
(D') The edict in favor of the Jews (7:7–8:14)
(C') The elevation of Mordecai (8:15–17)
(B') Two banquets on the two days of Purim (9:1–32)
(A') The greatness of Mordecai (10:1–3)1
This chiastic structure is built around a series of feasts located at significant junctures in the story. When Vashti refuses to parade herself during the book’s first two feasts, she loses her position as queen, allowing Esther to be crowned in her place, with another banquet (2:18). Haman is exposed during Esther’s second banquet, while Mordecai’s promotion is accompanied with feasting (8:17). Finally, as noted above, the book’s happy ending is celebrated with the Feast of Purim. The book’s tight structure serves to clarify its major theme: the perfectly symmetrical reversal of the Jews’ fortunes (9:1, 22). The story’s feasts do the same, each showing some reversal in power.
The terse and unadorned style of earlier biblical narrative is not reproduced in Esther. The narrator expresses himself in a more convoluted way, perhaps in imitation (or parody?) of the way language was used in the court.
Finally, it should be noted the book is one of the most humorous in the Bible. At several points in the story it is difficult not to laugh at King Ahasuerus and his bumbling, ineffective pomposity or at Haman’s being hung on the very gallows he built for Mordecai. The juxtaposition of these comic elements and Haman’s terrifying hatred for the Jews is, of course, unexpected. But this may be part of the narrator’s strategy: although there is nothing funny about Haman and his hatred of the Jews, the comic interludes in the book give a kind of release. The book prompts us to laugh even amid the most frightening of situations, as deliverance is worked out.
Theology of Esther
The central theological theme of the book of Esther is the deliverance of God’s people—and not just their deliverance, but the complete and total reversal of their plight. The book begins with the Jews of Persia powerless before the murderous designs of Haman, who holds authority second only to the king. The exact reversals detailed in the book show the author’s worldview: deliverance will come for the Jews (4:14).
Connected to the theme of deliverance is that of providence. Too many coincidences and reversals happen at exactly the right time to attribute the Jews’ deliverance to anything other than God’s control of all things, no matter how small: the Jewish Esther being chosen out of (probably) hundreds of young women to become queen; the king’s sleepless night, during which he is reminded of Mordecai’s unrewarded service; Haman being hung on the gallows he built for Mordecai; the king’s entrance just as Haman is imploring Esther, as well as his mistaken assumption that Haman is assaulting her. God is, of course, never directly mentioned as acting on his people’s behalf. Esther is well known for being the only book in the Bible that never directly mentions God. The reason for this is discussed below, under Interpretive Challenges; at this point, it need only be said that it is impossible to avoid the conclusion God is at work to save his people through the power politics of the Persian court.
The book’s ending gives much attention to celebrating the deliverance of the Jews at the Feast of Purim. The Jews do not just talk about the actions of Mordecai and Esther, but reenact and embody their deliverance with joyful celebration and gifts to the poor (9:22). Although the feasts and festivals of the old covenant are not binding on new covenant believers, the new covenant does have two rituals (baptism and the Lord’s Supper) that symbolically and joyfully reenact God’s deliverance of us in Christ.
Another theme of the book is Mordecai and Esther’s conduct in the Persian court. Although this commentary will argue that Mordecai and Esther fail to capitalize on a significant blessing in their deliverance from Haman’s plot, this does not negate how both show courage and skill throughout the story. This is easiest to see when Mordecai exposes a plot to kill the king—probably at some personal danger to himself—and continues uncomplaining in his work when this action goes unrewarded. For her part, Esther plays her hypersensitive, deeply unwise husband perfectly, avoiding a number of pitfalls as she exposes the plot of the king’s favorite adviser—a plot the king had approved. Without whitewashing the imperfections of either character, the narrator seems to be showing us the skill and tact that living in exile will sometimes require, especially when God’s people fall under hostile attack.
It is impossible to miss God’s love and care for Abraham’s seed even when they no longer remember him. The Lord’s ancient promises to bless those who bless his people and curse those who curse them still hold true—even if the Persian Jews fail to embody fully the blessing to the nations that the ancient promise to Abraham suggests (Gen. 12:2–3). The string of coincidences in the story shows that the deliverance of the Persian Jews is not simply a result of the strategizing of Mordecai and Esther. God is at work to deliver his people, even though he remains unrecognized by the book’s characters.
Finally, it should be noted that the narrator focuses on the relationship between the sexes at a number of points in his story. Like the rest of the ancient world, Persia was a highly patriarchal society. We see a law made that all wives must obey their husbands (Est. 1:20), and Esther is certainly not consulted when taken into the king’s harem for the rest of her life (note the passive verbs in 2:8, 16). In fact, part of the book’s portrayal involves a none-too-subtle mocking of Persian patriarchy; as the commentary will show, King Ahasuerus, although obsessed with his own honor, never acts or even seems to think for himself, but is always acted upon by those around him—most significantly by Esther, who knows how to flatter her husband to save her people (7:3–6; 8:4–6). It is difficult not to laugh at how threatened the king and his advisers feel by Vashti’s refusal to obey (ch. 1), or how they advertise their powerlessness through their decree meant to assert male authority. Although it would be incorrect to set the book of Esther against the apostles’ statements on male headship (Eph. 5:22–23; 1 Pet. 3:1–6) or their limitation of some roles in ministry to men (1 Tim. 2:12), Esther does contribute to the Bible’s portrayal of male-female relationships by showing Esther (together with Mordecai) working to save her people in a context in which women had virtually no power. The narrator does not want us to miss the thoughtless buffoonery and pomposity of the Persian royal male elite—a carelessness that is potentially lethal. The shifting relationship between Mordecai and Esther, in which Esther will come to take the lead, will be noted throughout the commentary.
Relationship to the Rest of the Bible and to Christ
The salvation of God’s people from their enemies is a constant theme in the OT: in the exodus from Egypt, the spiritually empowered warlords of the book of Judges, and Saul’s and David’s wars with the Philistines (to name only a few examples), the Bible repeatedly shows God saving his people from those who would destroy them. The book of Esther offers a variation on this theme, showing God’s deliverance when his people are outside the Promised Land, living in a society hostile to them: it is a deliverance worked out entirely “behind the scenes,” in the normal course of the tumult of the Persian court. Even if life for the Jews in Persia was vastly different from that of their ancestors, the same promise of God’s deliverance held true.
Although God’s people in the new covenant are not constituted as a political body nor engage in physical warfare, the same promise speaks to us as we endure this present evil age (Phil. 1:28; 2 Thess. 1:5–10; Rev. 19:11–21). This is probably the main connection of the book of Esther with the NT: although new covenant believers are not promised complete deliverance from every earthly trial (Rom. 8:35–36), the Lord Jesus does deliver his people from spiritual death within “this present darkness” (Eph. 6:12), even as we live in it. In the greatest reversal of fortunes imaginable, we who deserve death and judgment receive the opposite from God, who is working to deliver us even in our darkest hour. The joy of Purim is a hint of a greater celebration at a greater feast after a greater act of deliverance from a greater enemy (Rev. 19:1–8).
Beyond this, not many specific typological connections between characters and events in Esther and the NT can be found. It is difficult to see Esther prefiguring Christ as she wins a beauty contest and sleeps with a man before she is officially married to him. Mordecai is an admirable man in many ways, but with the possible exception of his being honored publicly (6:10–11), at no point does he adumbrate that greater coming Savior. The contrasts between them and Christ are more significant than the similarities.
Preaching from Esther
The book of Esther can be preached profitably in at least three ways. First and most important, pastors can point to the overarching biblical theme of God’s deliverance and how it is worked out through a string of coincidences none of the characters recognize, through the work of God’s people living and working in a pagan society. It may even help to awaken modern congregations to our difficult position as the NT describes it, as exiles (1 Pet. 1:1) vulnerable to slander and mistreatment (1 Pet. 3:9–17).
A second way the book of Esther is helpful for God’s new covenant people is in its examination of what it looks like to live wisely in exile. Although postexilic books like Esther, Ezra, Nehemiah, and Daniel in no way condemn living and working in pagan society, Esther especially portrays that society as potentially dangerous. Mordecai’s exposure of a plot on the king’s life is significant in this regard (2:21–23): Mordecai shows loyalty to a king undeserving of it, and does not complain when passed over for a promotion. When Mordecai finally is honored for exposing the plot, no reaction on his part is recorded; he simply goes back to work (6:12). For her part, Esther skillfully manipulates the king, exposing Haman without bruising Ahasuerus’s hypersensitive ego. In Mordecai and Esther, we see the kind of courage and resourcefulness living wisely in exile may sometimes require.
Finally, the way Mordecai is repeatedly identified as Jewish when under attack from Haman (3:4, 6, 10, 13; 5:13; 6:10, 13) warns us against any trace of anti-Semitism in our churches. Although national and ethnic identity does not determine our standing before God (Matt. 21:33–46), his promises to his ethnic people remain unbroken, so that all Israel will be saved (Rom. 11:26)—however one might interpret Paul’s words. Haman’s designs against the Jews of his day returned on his own head—a clear warning to anyone who would scheme against God’s people!
Interpretive Challenges
Clearly the greatest interpretive challenge of the book of Esther is the absence of any explicit mention of God. Nor, in fact, is there any mention of Torah, the Promised Land, the temple, or other heroes from the OT. Although a fast is called in chapter 4, no mention is made of prayer during the fast or of worship of God after it. There is no indication that Mordecai and Esther keep dietary laws or observe the Sabbath; indeed, it is not clear if the other Persians even knew they were Jewish. Surely, if they had been keeping these laws, they would have distinguished themselves from the Persians much earlier in the story. The books of Ezra, Nehemiah, and Daniel, written at a similar stage in redemptive history, form stark contrasts to Esther in this regard. How is this silence on all matters theological to be interpreted?
Certainly God does sometimes work in quiet and unobtrusive ways: in Judges 14:4, for example, we are explicitly told that none of the characters in the story realize events are playing out as they are because God is secretly ordering them. Doubtless the narrator of Esther is, at least in part, making a similar implication about the quietness and subtlety of God’s work by never mentioning him directly. Furthermore, if we are meant to assume God’s activity even when he is unmentioned (as I believe the narrator means us to), perhaps we are meant to assume the same about the religious behavior of the characters. This is what ancient translations did. The Aramaic Targums (later translations and embellishments of the biblical text for Jews who did not speak Hebrew) and the Greek Septuagint of Esther add much religious behavior and speech we would expect from these characters; for instance, the Septuagint records a long prayer by Mordecai after Esther tells him to call a fast (4:16), which is followed by a prayer by Esther where she says she hates sleeping with the king and keeps the dietary restrictions of the law. Similarly, the first Targum to Esther adds that God kept sleep from the king in chapter 6 because of the prayers of Jewish women. But even if these translators simply added text to bring Esther in line with their expectations, it may be that the narrator assumed we would understand (for instance) that Esther and Mordecai were praying fervently when it looked as if Haman might get his wish. Another example of this kind of assumption is found in Mordecai’s theologically fraught statement in 4:14. As will be discussed in the commentary, Mordecai uses a theologically loaded word to express his certainty that the Jews will be delivered. Perhaps we are meant to read this in a way similar to Paul’s expecting that the Philippians’ prayers “will turn out for [his] deliverance” (Phil. 1:19)—clearly, though not explicitly, referring to God’s action on his behalf.
The problem with this reading is the sheer number of places God’s name is not mentioned where we would expect it to be. By the book’s end, the silence has become deafening. If the narrator is asking us to assume that Mordecai and Esther act as devoutly as we would expect, he is asking too much. For instance, Esther apparently does not keep any of the laws that would distinguish her as a Jew in the king’s harem (in fact, she never self-identifies as Jewish), even sleeping with a man to see if she pleases him (Est. 2:16–17). No mention of prayer is recorded during the fast (4:16), nor is any mention of praise made after the Jews’ fortunes are reversed (9:1). A new festival is added to the Jewish ritual calendar without divine authorization (9:20–23). The book ends by speaking only of Mordecai’s greatness—not God’s (10:2–3). Even the conversion of some of the Persians in 8:17 is ambiguous; as will be discussed in the commentary on that passage, this probably means only that some Persians adopted Jewish customs. It is possible, in fact, to read this book as a story of Jews who are only culturally Jewish—who have kept some of their ancestral traditions but have lost any knowledge of the God of Abraham. (This would not, in itself, make the book secular, only the characters.) It appears that Purim could be celebrated without any specifically religious activity (similar to how Christmas is celebrated in some homes). The book ends not with praise of God from his people and surrounding Gentiles, but with the Jews safe and secure—a happy ending, to be sure, but one that could have been better (cf. Isa. 45:22–23).
This suggests the narrator is guiding us to the uncomfortable conclusion that the deliverance he records was a real victory, but only a partial one. In the larger context of Scripture, it is impossible not to see God at work “behind the scenes” to deliver his people through Mordecai and Esther. But what if the military and cultural victory for the Jews of Persia had been a spiritual one as well? What if the book ended with many Persians explicitly aligning themselves with the God of Mordecai and Esther, with Mordecai working for the good, not just of his own people but of the Gentiles as well? This, in turn, raises the issue of how God’s people can most fully glorify God when he works on their behalf. A number of OT texts emphasize the speech of God’s people in praise of the God who intervenes for them (Pss. 96:7–10; 145:6–7; Isa. 43:10–11; 45:20–25; 66:20). Without denigrating the happy deliverance God worked through his courageous servants Esther and Mordecai, it is worth asking how we can most fully exploit God’s deliverance of his people so that the interests of his kingdom are best served. We will wrestle with this ambiguity at numerous points in the commentary.
A second difficulty in reading Esther is the moral ambiguity of its heroes and the violence in the story. Mordecai acts sensibly and selflessly, both as a Persian bureaucrat and on behalf of his people, with one exception: his refusal to bow to Haman in chapter 3. Mordecai is probably refusing to do so as a matter of principle: as discussed in the commentary, Mordecai’s reasons for not bowing, although not explicit in the text, probably have to do with Haman’s being an Agagite, a descendant of the Amalekite king Agag, whom Saul spared in 1 Samuel 15. (That Mordecai is a descendant of Kish, Saul’s father, strengthens this connection.) Mordecai’s sense of loyalty to his people probably made it difficult for him to genuflect before this Amalekite, with their ancient hostility to Israel. But even if Mordecai’s refusal is understandable and in some sense justified, it is still worth asking whether it was wise. His action endangers every Jew in Persia. As a government official, Mordecai probably had to genuflect before many superiors, irrespective of their moral quality. This issue will be discussed further in the commentary.
Esther, for her part, does act with courage and great skill on behalf of her people in chapters 5–7. Before that, however, we are told nothing of her feelings about being taken into the king’s harem and sleeping with the king: although she might have loathed her time there, it is possible she enjoyed being part of the beauty contest. But perhaps more troubling is Esther’s request of the king for a second day of fighting in 9:13. Although Esther’s other requests find moral justification and are harder to criticize, there seems to be no reason for this second day of fighting beyond revenge, for the Jews’ enemies had been given only one day to attack the Jews. Esther seems cruel and acts in a way not dissimilar to the enemies of the Jews. The book bearing her name shows God working his deliverance through entirely imperfect people, prompting the reader to reflect on how God’s acts of deliverance for his people living in exile might be better stewarded, not in vengeance upon our persecutors but in speaking about the God who works such deliverance.
Outline
I. Setup and Background: Queen Vashti’s Deposal (1:1–22)
A. Ahasuerus’s Feast for His Officials and People (1:1–9)
B. Vashti’s Refusal of the King (1:10–12)
C. The Edict against Vashti (1:13–22)
II. Esther Becomes Queen (2:1–23)
A. The Beauty Contest (2:1–4)
B. Introduction of Esther and Mordecai (2:5–7)
C. Esther’s Success in the Contest (2:8–20)
D. Mordecai’s Rescue of the King (2:21–23)
III. Haman’s Plot against the Jews (3:1–15)
A. Mordecai’s Refusal to Bow to Haman (3:1–6)
B. The King Approves Haman’s Plan to Exterminate the Jews (3:7–11)
C. The Statute against the Jews (3:12–15)
IV. Mordecai Convinces Esther to Petition the King (4:1–17)
A. Mordecai’s Tears (4:1–3)
B. Esther Learns of the Plot from Mordecai (4:4–8)
C. Esther Resists Helping Mordecai (4:9–12)
D. Mordecai Convinces Esther to Help (4:13–17)
V. Esther Begins Her Appeal to the King (5:1–14)
A. Esther Holds a Feast for the King and Requests a Second Feast (5:1–8)
B. Haman Plots Mordecai’s Hanging (5:9–14)
VI. The Turning Point: Ahasuerus Honors Mordecai (6:1–14)
A. Ahasuerus Decides to Honor Mordecai (6:1–3)
B. Ahasuerus Designates Haman to Honor Mordecai (6:4–9)
C. Haman Honors Mordecai (6:10–14)
VIII. Esther’s Second Feast and Haman’s Exposure (7:1–10)
A. Esther Reveals Haman’s Plot (7:1–6)
B. Haman Is Hanged (7:7–10)
IX. Haman’s Edict Is Counteracted and the Jews Slaughter Their Enemies (8:1–9:18)
A. Esther’s Permission to Write a Decree Countering Haman’s (8:1–8)
B. The Content of the Decree (8:9–14)
C. The Effects of the Decree (8:15–17)
D. The Execution of the Decree (9:1–10)
E. The Hanging of Haman’s Ten Sons and a Second Wave of Killings (9:11–18)
X. Conclusion: Purim Is Instituted (9:19–10:3)
A. The Victory Is Commemorated by the Festival of Purim (9:19–32)
B. Epilogue: Mordecai’s Greatness (10:1–3)