Original Meaning

AT THE TIME of the war council, according to the book of Esther, Xerxes was married to Queen Vashti. Scholars have used this point to argue against the historicity of the story, because the Greek historian Herodotus gives the name of Xerxes’ wife as Amestris, not Vashti, and he mentions no other wives.1 Furthermore, some understand Herodotus to say that Amestris accompanied Xerxes during his campaign in Greece, though this point is less clear. It is known that Amestris was the queen mother during the reign of her son, Artaxerxes I, who succeeded Xerxes.

Although Herodotus has been shown to be sometimes wrong, many biblical scholars nevertheless favor Herodotus where he disagrees with the author of Esther. To harmonize Herodotus with the Esther story, some have identified Amestris with Vashti by suggesting that Amestris was her Greek name and Vashti the transliteration of her Persian name into Hebrew. It is of course difficult for scholars to identify with certainty vocabulary words from Old Persian, then to know how they would have been pronounced, and furthermore, how that Persian pronunciation would have been represented by the Hebrew alphabet. Some have claimed the name Vashti sounds similar to the Old Persian for beautiful woman.2 If so, the name simply may be a literary device used to characterize the woman otherwise known to history as Amestris.

Perhaps Herodotus mentions only Amestris, whether or not she was Vashti, because he was interested only in the royal wives who bore the successors to the throne. All other royal wives and concubines, of which Persian kings typically had many, were presumably irrelevant to his purpose of tracing the succession of the Persian dynasty. This motivation seems probable because Herodotus mentions only two of the several wives of Xerxes’ father, Darius. Both of these named women bore sons who contended for the throne of their father, which Xerxes eventually won. If Herodotus includes in his history only the royal wives who were directly relevant to the succession of the throne, then this historical problem in Esther disappears. Only Amestris would be expected to be named by Herodotus since she gave birth to Xerxes’ successor, Artaxerxes. Whether or not Amestris and Vashti are one and the same woman, there is nothing in Herodotus that is inconsistent with Vashti’s being Xerxes’ wife or with her fall from his grace as recorded in Esther.

After seven days of drinking, when Xerxes was “in high spirits from wine,” he sent for his queen to display her royal beauty before the men of Susa. In order to secure the loyalty and support of his empire as he went to war against the Greeks, King Xerxes was displaying “the vast wealth of his kingdom” and “the splendor and glory of his majesty” (1:4). The beautiful Vashti, wearing her royal diadem, was a living trophy of his power and glory. He sent seven eunuchs to fetch her, perhaps the number needed to carry her seated in the royal litter. This would create a dramatic and majestic entrance for her before the men being asked to go to war for the empire. Perhaps the sight of the queen in her royal glory was intended to inspire patriotism and loyalty, as public appearances of the British queen do today.

Within our modern culture we think of drinking as a social custom, often with negative connotations. However, the Greek historian Herodotus explains the interesting fact that the Persians drank as they deliberated matters of state (cf. Est. 3:15):

Moreover it is their [the Persians] custom to deliberate about the gravest matters when they are drunk; and what they approve in their counsels is proposed to them the next day by the master of the house where they deliberate, when they are now sober and if being sober they still approve it, they act thereon, but if not, they cast it aside. And when they have taken counsel about a matter when sober, they decide upon it when they are drunk.3

This custom may seem bizarre to us, but the ancients believed intoxication put them in closer touch with the spiritual world. If Herodotus is right on this point, excessive drinking would have been an essential element of Xerxes’ war council.

Because Xerxes was displaying his power and might in order to solidify his nobles as he went to war against Greece, the refusal of his own queen to obey his command must have been extremely embarrassing. No wonder Xerxes became furious and burned with anger! He needed his men to obey his commands as they went to war, but in his own palace he could not even get his own wife to obey!

Bridging Contexts

THE EXEMPLARY APPROACH. Many interpreters, from the earliest Jewish rabbis to modern preachers, have taken an exemplary approach to this passage. They use the king to preach against the evils of alcohol and Vashti to preach against rebellious wives. An exemplary approach to interpreting these characters is inadequate and misleading. It forces the interpreter to make ethical and moral judgments that the author himself refrains from making. It is natural for a reader to decide whether he or she likes or dislikes a character in a story. However, merely expressing one’s opinion about Xerxes or Vashti, Mordecai or Esther, and quoting biblical proof texts to back it up, is not exegesis of the text. An exemplary approach produces an inadequate interpretation of this story.4

The narrator of the story tells us that Xerxes was “in high spirits from wine” when he ordered Vashti to be brought before the men of the empire, who also had been drinking as each wished. By linking the king’s drinking with the command to Vashti, the narrator implies that the king was influenced by alcohol and perhaps would not have given this command had he not been drinking. But the author of Esther does not make the evils of alcohol the main point of this passage. The point is that the Persian court was not a safe place because Xerxes held great power, and he wielded it unpredictably, making decisions from dubious motives with impaired judgment.

Herodotus tells how, a few years later during his campaign against the Greeks, Xerxes beheaded the men building a bridge at the Hellespont for his army when a storm delayed its completion.5 When such absolute power is combined with decadence and ruthlessness, no one is safe. This scene, which shows the dangers of living under Xerxes’ power in the Persian empire, provides a backdrop for the major conflict of the story when the power of the Persian empire will be turned against the Jewish people.

Throughout centuries of interpretation, Vashti has been interpreted as an exemplary model (in either a negative or a positive sense). Traditionally she has been villainized by both Jewish and Christian interpreters as a wicked and rebellious woman. According to Jewish tradition she was the granddaughter of the Babylonian king, Nebuchadnezzar, and was not only deposed but executed. This was her just end for forcing good Jewish girls to work on the Sabbath.

Martin Luther also (mis-)used Vashti as a negative role model to illustrate one of his arguments for divorce:

The third case for divorce is that in which one of the parties deprives and avoids the other, refusing to fulfil the conjugal duty or to live with the other person. . . . Here it is time for the husband to say, “If you will not, another will; the maid will come if the wife will not.” Only first the husband should admonish and warn his wife two or three times, and let the situation be known to others so that her stubbornness becomes a matter of common knowledge and is rebuked before the congregation. If she still refuses, get rid of her; take an Esther and let Vashti go, as King Ahasuerus did.6

On the other hand, some interpreters have seen Vashti’s refusal to be put on display as evidence of noble character. The Reformed theologian Abraham Kuyper, for example, writes of her, “Vashti is one of the nobler women of humanity.”7 She has also recently been commended by feminist interpreters for standing up to the king and refusing to be treated as a sex object, something Esther is accused of failing to do. Regardless of whether one considers Vashti noble or rebellious, both interpretations share the mistake of taking an exemplary approach.

Is sexism a major theme of Esther? The feminist interpretation of Vashti and Esther mistakenly views sexism as a major theme of the book. In the nineteenth century, both Vashti and Esther were commended as upholding the dignity of women. In The Women’s Bible, Elizabeth Cady Stanton describes Esther as “noble and self-sacrificing,” Vashti as “self-respecting and brave.”8 In this century, Esther continues to be a heroine to some, but has fallen into disfavor with many feminist interpreters because she did not assert herself against what is viewed as male domination. In comparison to Esther, Vashti’s refusal to obey the king is applauded as an admirable attack on patriarchy. Alice Laffey writes:

. . . feminist interpreters have begun to see that buried in Esther’s character is also full compliance with patriarchy. In contrast to Vashti, who refused to be men’s sexual object and her husband’s toy, Esther is the stereotypical woman in a man’s world. She wins favor by the physical beauty of her appearance, and then by her ability to satisfy sexually. . . . Rather than defend Vashti’s decision and protest the injustice of her banishment, Esther uses Vashti’s rejection for her own benefit. When feminists compare the two women, they extol Vashti, though they are not at all surprised that the literature, produced as it was in a patriarchal culture, honors Esther and relegates Vashti to oblivion. Their concern, however, is to reclaim Vashti.9

By introducing Esther’s story with Vashti’s, the author does invite a comparison of the two women. However, he does not play the character of the two against each other, as recent feminist interpreters do. Feminist interpreters seem to overlook the fact that, like Esther, Vashti was herself a beautiful woman, who no doubt had ability to satisfy sexually. Her “compliance with patriarchy” had no doubt been as extensive as Esther’s, having won the bed (if not the heart) of the most powerful man in the empire. The feminist assumption is that Esther has an honored place in the canon only because she was viewed as nonthreatening to the patriarchal society that preserved and published her story.

One could argue, however, that Esther was an even more subversive presence in her “patriarchal” society than Vashti (if it’s even legitimate to characterize the Persian culture by this modern label). This book of the Bible bears the name of a woman who outwitted powerful, evil men and lived to write a decree celebrating it (9:29, 32). This was such a remarkable feat for a woman in the ancient world (patriarchal or otherwise) that an author, who was almost certainly a man, dared to write a book about it that has survived well over two thousand years. Because of the part a woman played in the deliverance of her people, the author is interested in gender politics throughout the story. Especially in verses 1:13–22 (see comments), the dynamics between the women and men of Esther’s world is a topic addressed at length.

This is not to say, however, that the author intended to write a feminist tract, holding up Vashti and Esther as feminist role models—in either a positive or negative light. Sexism is not the major theme of the book, and those who interpret the story through that lens have either missed or ignored the author’s concerns in favor of an ideological reading. One such modern reading of Esther arises from the sociological struggle of black women in South Africa. Using self-consciously a “hermeneutics of liberation,” Itumeleng Mosala indicts the book of Esther for sacrificing

gender struggles to national struggles. In the name of the struggle for the national survival of the Jewish people it disprivileges the question of gender oppression and exploitation. The matter of the subsumption of some struggles under others is a serious issue of discourse imperialism.10

Such readings of biblical texts arise from the personal, and usually painful, experiences of the interpreters. Their problems and pain are real, causing them to identify with the characters in the biblical stories they interpret differently from how those readers who have not similarly suffered interpret them. We can gain valuable insights from listening to readings of the biblical texts from others who have been shaped by experiences significantly different from our own. However, such readings must not be confused with the authoritative message of the biblical text as intended by its author, which must form the basis of normative application to our lives today.

The struggles of twentieth-century South Africa, for instance, are not the same struggles experienced by the Jewish people of ancient Persia, though both may be rooted in the universal depravity of human nature that has been unjustly structuring societies from Eden to Susa to Johannesburg. The threat of genocide faced by the Jewish people in Persia and the struggles of black women in South Africa may be two examples (out of countless many) of the horrific power of human evil, but their respective historical locations, and the issues specific to each, must be respected.

For the author of Esther the issue of the dignity and position of women in the Persian court paled in contrast to the pressing threat of death for an entire race of people, who were God’s covenant people at that. The threat against the Jews of Persia was a threat against God’s plan of redemption. This distinguishes it from other instances of genocide against other peoples, evils that are no less morally reprehensible. The major sociological distinction within the book is an adversarial relationship between Jew and Gentile, not between men and women. Feminist interpretations fail to note that although both Vashti and Esther are women, Vashti was a Gentile and Esther a Jew. That difference is of far greater significance to the story than their common gender.

Feminist interpreters who condemn Esther for not directly opposing blatant sexism are missing an important point. If there is any lesson to be learned from Vashti’s experience, it would seem to be that women who directly oppose the male power structures will simply be banished, with no opportunity for further influence on those structures. Esther, who is accused by some feminists of playing into the hands of men, skillfully uses the power of a male-dominated world to accomplish something still celebrated annually twenty-five hundred years later. If we wish to use Vashti and Esther as focal points of a discussion on women’s empowerment (even though that is not their significance to the ancient author), Esther is arguably the more empowered of the two.

It is not sound hermeneutics to interpret an ancient text through the lens of any modern ideology, regardless of the social value of that ideology. The interpreter must respect the concerns of the author of Esther, which were indigenous to his own times and culture, not ours. Therefore, we must not read Esther as if the author’s intended purpose was to address the concerns of feminism as articulated in our own time.

Vashti and marital relationships. Some Christian interpreters have been quick to see Vashti as a negative example of the wifely submission commanded by Ephesians 5:22–23: “Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior.” Such a reading is just as anachronistic as the feminist approach, because it, too, reads concerns of a later time, albeit biblical concerns, into a text that were not intended by the author.

Even if Vashti is taken as an example of a rebellious wife, Ephesians 5:22 would not necessarily condemn her. Christian interpreters of this verse by and large agree that if an ungodly husband makes unholy demands of his wife, the wife can justifiably disobey them. Given the state of mind of Xerxes and the implied purpose of his command, one might be inclined to give Vashti the benefit of the doubt in this case. Perhaps she was the more noble of the two, after all.

There is further reason why Vashti’s refusal should not be viewed through the lens of the husband-wife relationship of Ephesians 5:22. Just as the author of Esther is not concerned with the interests of modern feminists, he is also not concerned with Xerxes and Vashti as a married couple. He repeatedly refers to King Xerxes and Queen Vashti, but not once does he mention them as the spouse of the other. Vashti’s refusal to be displayed before drunken men was perhaps motivated by personal reasons, but it was a public political embarrassment to Xerxes, especially so because it caused Xerxes to lose face in front of his entire administration during an important war council. In the verses that follow, the king’s advisors rather humorously turn this political embarrassment into an issue concerning the relationships between husbands and wives throughout the empire, but certainly not in a way that exemplifies Ephesians 5:22–25 (see comments on 1:12–22).

The author views Vashti specifically as the queen, not the wife, who refuses. The political ramifications of her decision foreshadow that of her successor, Esther. Both Vashti and Esther are portrayed in the story in their role as queens, not as wives. To color Vashti as the bad wife and Esther as the good one is to lose sight, as feminist interpreters do, of the major sociological division in the book between Jew and Gentile. Judging strictly from the letter of the law, we would have to condemn Esther as well, for she should not have accepted marriage to a Gentile according to the Torah (see comments on 2:1–11).

By introducing Vashti’s refusal with the remark that the king was “in high spirits from wine,” the author seems to subtly cast Vashti in a better light than Xerxes. The implication is that Xerxes’ judgment was impaired. If Vashti and Amestris were in fact the same woman, she would have been in the late stage of her pregnancy with Xerxes’ son, Artaxerxes, and perhaps unable to appear in public. The author does not label Vashti as a rebellious wife nor does he evaluate her refusal as good or bad, right or wrong. Interpreters should also resist the temptation to build an interpretation by imposing such judgments.

The ambiguity of Vashti’s action and motives must be allowed to stand as the deliberate intention of the author, for he could have easily supplied an evaluation. Either a moral appraisal of Vashti’s refusal is irrelevant to the author’s point or the ambiguity is itself a part of what he is saying. If the former, then an exemplary approach is completely inappropriate because it violates the author’s intention. If the later, then an exemplary approach blinds us from seeing the author’s point. Though the exemplary approach has been most frequently used, it is almost certainly not how the author intended us to understand the characters in this story.

Queen Vashti as the context for Queen Esther. The author refrains from commenting not only on Vashti’s behavior and motives, but also does not supply such an evaluation of any of the people in the story. This unusual silence creates such a conspicuous ambiguity that it cannot be ignored if an interpreter insists on taking an exemplary approach. It can be fixed only by filling in motives and evaluations that simply are not in the text. The present commentary takes the ambiguity not as a problem to be overcome in order to interpret the text, but as part of the literary fabric of the story.

Note that this passage is the first of many in which the author refrains from making any moral or ethical evaluation. He does not fault the king for drinking, nor does he commend or condemn Vashti for refusing to appear at the king’s command. The ethical and moral ambiguity of the characters is an important element in the story and is particularly appropriate to its meaning and application, for divine providence works through human behavior that flows from even the most ambiguous and confused of motives.

This episode between Vashti and Xerxes paints a picture of life in the Persian court that provides a context in which the later events of the story are to be understood. (1) In the Persian court the king holds tremendous power and uses it ostentatiously to reinforce his own glory with little or no thought for the consequences to others. The reader begins to see a glimpse of what life under the Persian king was like. Mordecai, and especially Esther, are up against tremendous odds as they seek to survive in the Persian court. They not only survive; they gain power, which is even more remarkable.

(2) This portrayal of Queen Vashti provides the reader with a context in which to understand her successor, Queen Esther. Both women are locked in a relationship with Xerxes that is sexually and politically charged. By introducing Esther’s story with Vashti’s, the author invites the reader to make comparisons between the two that amplify the irony and power of its message.

Contemporary Significance

THE AUTHOR OF the book of Esther knew when he began to write that he was telling a story about how, against all odds, the fate of God’s people was reversed and became the reason for the celebration called Purim. One seemingly insignificant event led to another, and in this mysterious chain of human actions the promise of the covenant made long before between God and his people was upheld and fulfilled. It is therefore worth noting with what event the author begins to tell this story.

The author does not begin with Mordecai or Esther. He does not retell the history of the Jews. He begins the story with the Persian king Xerxes, who neither knew nor worshiped the God of the Jews. Xerxes decides to give a banquet, apparently from the purely political need to solidify support for his impending military campaign. A completely pagan king decides for purely worldly reasons to give a banquet designed for self-aggrandizement. On the last day of the banquet, he decides to treat the men of his empire to a good look at his beautiful Queen Vashti. This decision is probably not made from the most admirable of motives, at least not as judged by Christian standards. With this, Xerxes sets in motion a chain of events that takes on a life of its own.

In reaction to Xerxes, Queen Vashti, who also is not a worshiper of Yahweh, decides, for whatever reason, to refuse the king’s command. She probably does not realize at the moment that her decision will change her life forever and bring another woman to the throne of Persia. With his one decision to display Vashti at his war council, Xerxes sets in motion a chain of events that culminates in the deliverance of God’s people, fulfilling the promise of the ancient covenant made ages before in a faraway place.

When we think of redemptive history, we think of the great miracles that display God’s power. But these mighty acts of God are linked together through long years of human history by a chain of seemingly insignificant, ordinary events. We are now living in one of those long stretches of history between the ascension and return of Jesus Christ. Like Xerxes of long ago, modern kings, presidents, and rulers make decisions from purely political motives. Like Vashti, people today unwittingly make decisions that have long-reaching consequences far beyond what they could have foreseen. These events may be completely secular and perhaps made by people who give Christ no thought. Nonetheless, through them God is moving all of history forward to accomplish all that must happen before the return of his Son, Jesus Christ, the true King of kings.