Original Meaning

MORDECAI HAPPENED TO overhear a plot to assassinate Xerxes while he was “sitting at the gate.” This phrase refers to holding an official position in the court. The gate entering into the walled palace complex was a large building in which legal, civil, and commercial business was transacted. If archaeological evidence from Susa has been correctly interpreted, the gate built by Xerxes’ father and predecessor, Darius, measured 131 by 92 feet.1 This gate was a large building consisting of a central hall that led into the royal compound and two rectangular side rooms.2 The central hall was supported by four columns with trilingual inscriptions on the bases that read, “Xerxes the King says, ‘By the grace of Ahuramazda, the Gate, Darius the King made it, he who was my father.’ ” 3 The excavation of this gate and the square in front of it correspond well to the details of the palace given by the author of Esther (cf. 4:6), indicating that the author was familiar with the palace complex at Susa.

Mordecai foiled the assassination plot by reporting it to Queen Esther, who in turn reported it to Xerxes, giving due credit to Mordecai. All of this was recorded in the annals of the king. Herodotus refers to an official list recorded in the Persian archives naming the king’s “benefactors.”4 Acts of loyalty were usually rewarded immediately and generously by Persian kings, but Mordecai’s reward was apparently overlooked. Although this attempt on Xerxes’ life was foiled, Herodotus reports that a subsequent attempt succeeded when the king was assassinated in his bedroom in 465 B.C.

At this point, a new character is introduced into the story: Haman the Agagite. Xerxes had promoted Haman to a high position, though no explanation of why he deserved this honor is given. Given Mordecai’s demonstrated loyalty to the king, promotion would have been an appropriate reward. The author places the promotion of Haman just where the original readers would have expected a report of Mordecai’s reward as a benefactor of the king. Haman’s introduction forms an unexpected twist when juxtaposed with Mordecai’s unrewarded loyalty.

A subtheme in this conflict between Mordecai and Haman is again that of respect commanded and respect refused. All the officials at the king’s gate knelt and paid honor to Haman because the king had commanded it—all of them, that is, except Mordecai. Mordecai’s refusal to give Haman the honor commanded by the king is left unexplained. Perhaps he resented Haman’s promotion when he himself deserved, but had not received, a reward for his loyalty to the king. However, as much as five years may have passed (cf. 2:16 and 3:7), and if this was Mordecai’s reason for not bowing to Haman, it apparently was not obvious to his colleagues. They asked him repeatedly to explain himself, but he refused. The text does not say he refused to pay homage because he was a Jew, although that is implied. His colleagues reported his behavior to Haman to see if Mordecai the Jew would be given an exception to the king’s command (3:4). This suggests a lurking tension between the Jews and Gentiles of the court.

Interpreters throughout the ages have offered explanations for Mordecai’s refusal. It is known from other sources that in general, Jews did bow to pagan officials of the Persian court. It was not a religious act but one of court protocol, much as moderns still curtsey or bow to the British queen. This suggests that Mordecai’s refusal was not religiously motivated, but personal and specific to Haman. However, interpreters have been quick to exonerate Mordecai’s behavior by ascribing a religious motivation. In the Greek version of the story, Mordecai explicitly says that it was not from hybris or arrogance that he refused to bow to Haman, but that he might not give the glory due to God to any man.5 Some interpreters have suggested that Haman, being a pagan, wore an emblem of an idol on his garment to which Mordecai refused to pay homage.

In Hebrew narrative the characteristic described when a character is introduced is key to understanding his or her role in the story. When Mordecai is introduced in 2:5, he is identified not as a wise man or as an official in the court, but as a Jew of the tribe of Benjamin. When Haman is introduced, he is identified as an Agagite. The author implies that the perennial relationship of enmity between the Jews and the Agagites is mirrored in the personal relationship between Mordecai and Haman. The original readers would expect the relationship to be characterized by conflict and aggression.

Agag was the king of the Amalekites at the time Saul (also of the tribe of Benjamin) was the first king of Israel (1 Sam. 15). The Amalekites were a nomadic people of the southern desert region who frequently raided Israel from the beginning of its history. This heathen nation had the dubious distinction of being the first people of the world to attack and try to destroy God’s newly formed covenant nation. Because of this, God promised Moses that he would completely erase the memory of the Amalekites from under heaven and would be at war with them from generation to generation (Ex. 17:8–16). In Deuteronomy 25:17–19, God commanded Israel, once they were settled in the land, to be agents of his promise and so war against the Amalekites as to blot out their memory forever.

In the years between Moses and King Saul, God gave Israel the land as promised. When Saul came to power, God instructed him through the prophet Samuel to “attack the Amalekites and totally destroy everything that belongs to them,” and to “put to death men and women, children and infants, cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys” (1 Sam. 15:1–3). Saul did attack the Amalekites as commanded, but he took Agag their king alive and spared his life along with the best of the sheep and cattle, in disobedience to God’s command.

Over the centuries after Saul spared Agag’s life, other perennial enemies of Israel were called Agagites, even though they had no ethnic relationship to the Amalekites. In the first century of this era, for example, Jewish writers referred to the Romans as Agagites. In our own time, the Palestinians in Israel are sometimes referred to by that ancient appellation. The New York Times reported on a violent incident in Israel by saying that “a core of militant Jews has preached a doctrine of intolerance, often with the Arab as the biblical enemy Amalek.”6

Rabbinic tradition held that Haman was in fact a descendant of Agag. However, as the use of the appellation illustrates, Haman need not have been genetically descended from the Amalekites to have earned the name Agagite. By using this term, the author is characterizing him as anti-Semitic, an enemy of the Jews. The original readers would have understood this one clue as introducing yet another episode of the age-old conflict between Israel and the powers that sought to destroy her. God’s promise to protect Israel and to be at war with Amalek in every generation was given within the context of the Sinai covenant (Ex. 17:8–16). But would that promise still stand for the Jews living in exile precisely because they had violated that covenant? Could they expect God to be faithful to his covenant promises when they had failed to keep theirs? In other words, was the covenant between God and his people still in effect? This is the underlying question that would have generated plot tension in the minds of the original readers.

Haman’s name sounds something like the Hebrew word for wrath (Heb., ḥemah), an apt description of his temperament and role in this story. Once he knew that Mordecai was a Jew, Haman’s pride-driven wrath was turned against all the Jewish people in the empire. Since the text does not give any specific reason for this, the reader is left to infer anti-Semitism as first expressed in the ancient conflict between Israel and Amalek.

Esther had been queen for five years when Haman skillfully manipulates the king to gain support for his evil plan. He begins by bringing an accusation certain to arouse the king’s attention—that there is “a certain people” who do not obey the king’s laws. It may have been true that the Jews observed certain distinctive customs even in Persia, but in narrative fact it is only Mordecai who does not obey the king, and then only one specific command—to bow to Haman. Haman carefully avoids mentioning that these people are the Jews, and the king is apparently too apathetic to ask which people are so charged.

Haman then appeals to the king’s need to replenish the treasury depleted by Xerxes’ disastrous war with Greece. Herodotus reports that the annual revenue of the Persian empire under Xerxes’ father, Darius, was 14,560 thousand talents.7 This revenue was generated by receiving tribute (i.e., taxes) from the satrapies. Haman’s offer to provide ten thousand talents of silver (about 300 tons) represents a substantial contribution to the royal coffers. Haman may have thrown out an exaggerated figure of ten thousand talents to sell his idea. Presumably, whatever revenue he promises will come by plundering the possessions of those killed (cf. 3:13).

Haman, like others before him, informs the king what is in the king’s own best interest. Xerxes, whose word is irrevocable law, was first advised by Memucan on how to deal with Vashti. Then his personal attendants suggested how a new queen should be chosen. In both previous cases, the machinery of the entire empire was put in motion by the advisors’ manipulation of the king. In this scene also, the king blindly allows Haman to use the royal power to his own ends. The signet ring used to sign and seal official documents is given to Haman, vesting him with the full authority of the throne to do as he wishes. Whoever possessed the signet ring effectively held the king’s authority (cf. 3:12).

To determine the propitious time for an attack on the Jews, Haman consults the pur (pl., purim) or lot. Archaeologists have unearthed samples of purim, which were clay cubes inscribed with either cuneiform characters or dots that look almost identical to modern dice.8 “Casting the lot” literally meant throwing the dice. But unlike their modern use, the ancient lot was used not for gambling but for divination. It was a way of asking the gods for answers to questions about the future.

Purim is a Hebrew pluralized form of an Akkadian word used to refer to this cube-shaped object of divination. This word is found only in the book of Esther, and when the author first uses it (3:7), he also gives his readers the equivalent Hebrew word used to refer to the cube (goral), which the NIV translates as “lot.” The pur or goral was used also by ancient Israel to query Yahweh. For instance, Joshua cast lots before the Lord to learn how to assign the land to the various tribes (Josh. 18:6).

Haman casts the lot in the first month, Nisan, the month the Jews celebrate Passover. It falls on the twelfth month, Adar. Haman will have to wait eleven months for the propitious day to attack the Jews, but immediately he sends out the decree sealing their fate. The edict of death is sent out on the thirteenth day of the first month, which ironically is the very eve of Passover (cf. Ex. 12:18; Lev. 23:5; Num. 28:16). The decree orders the citizens of Persia to take up arms against their Jewish neighbors, killing young and old, women and children, exactly eleven months later, on the thirteenth day of the twelfth month.

Passover commemorates the deliverance of Israel from Egypt, the event that constituted the founding of God’s covenant people as a nation. It celebrates the existence of the Jews as a people and their special relationship to God. The joy of this holiday is turned to sorrow in Persia when the decree is delivered on Passover, calling for their annihilation simply because they are Jews. The coincidence of the decree with Passover is tragically ironic, but serves to heighten the glory of the subsequent deliverance and links it to the ancient covenant of Sinai.

When he was first introduced in 3:1, Haman is referred to as “son of Hammedatha, the Agagite.” That appellation is repeated here, but with the additional phrase “the enemy of the Jews.” In this chilling scene, all of the power of the Persian empire is about to come down on the Jewish people because of Haman’s overweening pride.

Bridging Contexts

GOD’S PROVIDENCE THROUGH life’s injustices. Haman’s prideful demand of Mordecai’s respect and Mordecai’s refusal to give it precipitate this threat of genocide. Notice that the king had to command his lower officials to pay honor and respect to Haman. This is another example of how the power of the empire was used to demand respect, just as Memucan’s immoderate need for honor and respect motivated the king’s decree in chapter 1 that wives everywhere respect their husbands.

In chapter 1, Memucan’s similar fear of losing respect drove him to escalate an incident between Xerxes and Vashti to empire-wide proportions through the issuing of a royal decree. The disobedience of one woman, Vashti, had reverberations for all the women of the empire. A similar pattern is seen in this episode, where an incident involving two individual people escalates to empire-wide proportions. The disobedience of one Jew, Mordecai, brings an edict against all the Jews of the empire. A subtheme of the Esther story is that when such maniacal need for honor and respect is coupled with absolute power, the result is oppression and injustice.

“You are always righteous, O Lord, when I bring a case before you. Yet I would speak with you about your justice: Why does the way of the wicked prosper? Why do all the faithless live at ease?” (Jer. 12:1). This question no doubt crossed Mordecai’s mind when Haman the Agagite was promoted to live in the power and wealth of being second only to the king himself. Readers familiar with the custom that Persian kings liberally rewarded their benefactors would have noticed at the end of chapter 2 that Mordecai’s unrewarded good deed, which saved Xerxes’ life, was an injustice. The circumstances of Mordecai the Jew, one of God’s people, and Haman the Agagite, an enemy of God, surely gives rise to the question so eloquently expressed in Jeremiah 12:1.

Esther became queen in the seventh year of Xerxes’ reign (2:16–17), and Haman conspires against the Jews in the twelfth year (3:7). Sometime within this five-year period, Mordecai foiled the assassination plot and Haman rose to power. While Mordecai went unrewarded for quite some time, the man who would eventually attempt to eliminate the Jews was rising to a position in the court where he had the power to actually make good on such a threat. But had Mordecai been rewarded immediately as was custom, there would have been no opportunity for the deferred reward to become a crucial link in the deliverance of the Jews from the threat of genocide.

Haman has risen to his position of power, but both Esther and Mordecai are also now in position to be agents of the later deliverance of their people. But of course, they cannot see what is ahead. Both Esther and Mordecai have come to this place through the injustice and wickedness of others. Yet even so, they both had made decisions to live as they did in the Persian court. These unfolding events begin to show the inscrutable interplay between circumstances thrust upon us, sometimes unjustly, and those the result of our own behavior, often flawed. God’s providence marvelously moves through both in his own good time.

Haman’s casting of the pur or goral introduces the element of destiny into the story. The word goral was used not only as a noun to refer to the cubes thrown in divination, but also to the destiny or choice that they indicated. In Psalm 16:5–6 David praises the Lord because “you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot [goral] secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.” Using a literary allusion to Joshua’s division of the Promised Land by casting lots, David, now king of that land, reflects on the security found in the Lord alone. It is the Lord who has secured David’s destiny.

In Proverbs 16:33 the goral (lot) is mentioned again: “The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord.” Haman cast the lot to secure a date for the successful annihilation of the Jews, but it was Yahweh, the God of the Jews, who determined how it fell. Even the date of the planned annihilation of God’s people was determined neither by Haman’s gods nor by chance; it was determined by Yahweh, according to the ancient covenant he had made with Israel when he brought them out of Egypt. At the Exodus, commemorated by the Passover, God saved his people from destruction by the Amalekites and promised to do so from generation to generation (Ex. 17:8–15).

To the Jewish reader, Haman’s casting of the pur and the resulting edict of death on Passover eve would be profoundly ironic, suggesting the critical question: “Would God still deliver his people, now in exile in Persia, even though they had violated the very covenant in which he promised protection?” In other words, the knowledgeable reader would be asking whether the covenant with Yahweh, celebrated by Passover, was still in effect for the Jews of Persia. Because the remnant of Jews who had returned to Jerusalem to rebuild the city and the temple were nevertheless still under Persian rule, their fate, too, was being cast in faraway Susa.

Threats against God’s people. History has shown that there is a force at work in the world bent on destroying God’s people and thwarting God’s promises. It can unleash the power of the world’s greatest and mightiest nations by using the depraved nature of those entrusted with that power. This episode from Esther shows that the security of God’s people is fragile as they live under worldly rulers. Because of an interpersonal conflict between two individuals, the existence of the whole nation of God’s people is jeopardized. The world is shown to be a dangerous place, a place where “it is not in the king’s best interest” to tolerate the people of God.

A situation similar to this story from Susa occurred in the life of the early church when first-century Christians felt the full force of Roman might. The Roman emperors demanded “respect” by issuing a decree that an offering of incense must be burnt in their honor. All good citizens of the empire would in this way express their appreciation for the benefits and well-being the Roman emperor provided. When Christians saw that demand to be in conflict with their allegiance to Jesus Christ and refused to pay such honor, the charge brought against them was treason, a political crime punishable by death. It was not in the emperor’s best interest to let such “traitors” live, though their only offense was a refusal to offer the “respect” demanded.

The New Testament book of Revelation portrays the worldly power of the Roman empire as an ugly beast who demanded “worship” and who received his authority from the dragon. “The beast was given a mouth to utter proud words and . . . to make war against the saints and to conquer them. And he was given authority over every tribe, people, language and nation” (Rev. 13:5, 7, emphasis added). Everyone whose name was not written in the book of life, those who did not belong to the Lamb, bowed down and worshiped the beast. Those who refused to bow put their lives in jeopardy.

Satan, the dragon, drives the beast of world empires to demand “respect” and to destroy those who refuse it. When he was in the desert, Jesus himself endured Satan’s demand to be worshiped. In Luke 4:5–8, Satan displayed “all the kingdoms of the world” and said to Jesus, “I will give you all their authority and splendor, for it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to. So if you worship me, it will all be yours.” Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’ ” Jesus refused to bow down to Satan, and consequently, the worldly powers of the Jewish aristocracy consorting with the Roman regime were eventually turned against him at his crucifixion.

An assault on God’s covenant people at any time in human history is really an attack on the authority, power, and character of God himself. Although neither God nor Satan is mentioned in the book of Esther, there is a force at work directing the mighty power of Persia against God’s people. It is a force that demands to be “respected” and “honored,” a force that is willing to destroy those who refuse. However, an even greater power is concurrently at work protecting, preserving, and saving the Jews from destruction. Both the power that would destroy and the greater power that would deliver from destruction are veiled in the actions of Haman and Xerxes, of Mordecai and Esther.

Satan’s rebellion against God and his people is played out in the lives of people whose individual decisions have far-reaching consequences. Although Mordecai did not refuse to pay homage to Haman for explicitly religious reasons, in the Esther story, he (and Vashti?) stands on the side of those who refuse to bow to the beast and who, as a result, suffer the crushing force of earthly powers driven by Satan.

Contemporary Significance

GOD’S MYSTERIOUS WORKING. Most of us like to think that through thoughtful planning and wise living we can successfully direct the course of our lives. While much of the time life might cooperate with our plans, all of us can probably look back and see how circumstances beyond our control have redirected our lives, whether for good or for sorrow. Our sense of ultimately being in control is at times revealed by life’s circumstances to be an illusion.

Whether we like it or not, we often feel caught in circumstances beyond our control. Life is full of seemingly insignificant events that in retrospect we recognize as changing the course of our lives. Every new day brings circumstances and decisions, and we cannot know how one event will lead to another. Only God knows the end of a matter before it has even begun. The author of Esther is demonstrating the workings of divine providence. God works mysteriously, patiently, and inexorably through a series of “coincidental” events and human decisions, even those based on questionable motives and evil intents. All of the “chance” events in life are really working toward the end that God has ordained.

Esther suffered the humiliation of being taken into the king’s court to be sexually used. Apparently no one considered what plans she might have had for her life, plans perhaps to be a godly wife with a home and family.9 Her plans for her life were forever changed when the king’s men seized her from her home. Mordecai suffered the humiliation of being deprived of his rightful reward after putting himself at risk to save the king’s life when he reported the treacherous eunuchs. To add insult to injury, Haman was all the while gaining the power that would eventually be turned against Mordecai and his people. There is the sad irony that when the wicked do prosper, God’s people are often overlooked and unrewarded.

It is frustrating when our best plans are overturned and our good deeds and hard work go unnoticed and unrewarded. Most bitterly, we often see others prosper who are less deserving, at least in our own opinion. Such injustice hurts, but the example of Esther and Mordecai give us reason to bear such situations with patience and grace. Mordecai’s forbearance when he did not receive the expected reward allowed that injustice to lead to greater good when it was finally put right. God is invisibly at work, making even life’s greatest disappointments a link in a chain of good things yet to come. We cannot see the end of things from the middle and must walk by faith, not by sight. The Lord will bring a greater good, his perfect plan, out of all the frustration we feel and out of all the evil we experience. When all is said and done, God uses even injustice to fulfill his promises to us. As Joseph explained to his brothers, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good” (Gen. 50:20).

Paradoxically, Satan channeled wrath against Jesus through human agents who nailed him to the cross, but it was simultaneously God’s work of atonement. The apostle Peter preached that the human agents involved in that action were ignorant of their role and were acting from their own instincts and interests (Acts 3:17). Nevertheless, “this is how God fulfilled what he had foretold through all the prophets” (Acts 3:18). When Peter and John were released after being arrested in Jerusalem, they led the church in a prayer that indicted all the worldly powers for the death of Jesus (Acts 4:27–29):

Indeed Herod and Pontius Pilate met together with the Gentiles and the people of Israel in this city to conspire against your holy servant Jesus, whom you anointed. They did what your power and will had decided beforehand should happen. Now, Lord, consider their threats and enable your servants to speak your word with great boldness. (emphasis added)

It was not in spite of the greatest injustice and most concerted evil against Jesus that God achieved his work of atonement, but through those very acts of injustice and evil. What mind-boggling mystery!

God’s absolute sovereignty is displayed magnificently in the great paradox that even Satan’s wrath and retribution working through worldly powers is nevertheless constrained by God’s eternal decrees. God works concurrently through the very forces that Satan means for evil to bring about his perfect good. It was with this confidence that the early church prayed for boldness to preach the gospel while facing life-threatening opposition. With this same confidence, Christians today can face the powers of evil arrayed against them.

Encouragement for persecuted Christians. The book of Revelation was written to encourage Christians who, like the Jews of Susa, found their existence threatened when the government under which they lived turned beastly. American Christians probably cannot fully appreciate this situation, for there has never been a time in our nation’s history when the government has issued a decree outlawing the church or demanding a “respect” that compromises allegiance to Christ. Unfortunately, this has not been the experience of Christians in other parts of the world. One source reports that in this century alone, an average of 300,000 Christians have been martyred each year.10

Because Christians (and Jews) throughout history have typically been executed on the charges of political treason rather than for religious piety, it is sometimes debated whether such numbers include Christians killed for reasons other than faith. Regardless of the precise number of those martyred, the church around the world still suffers in many ways at the hands of governments who are ideologically antithetical to the fundamental principles of Christianity. The prayer of the earliest Christians, “Now, Lord, consider their threats and enable your servants to speak your word with great boldness,” must still be the prayer of the church today, offered up with a confidence in God’s powerful providence.11

The book of Revelation shows that despite the terrible power world empires now hold, the true King of kings will have the victory over these ungodly empires of the world. Christians are to live faithfully for that day, even under the shadow of persecution and death. After describing the beast and his satanic power, John acknowledges that, like their Lord, Christians will suffer and die when the government turns against them, just as the Roman empire did. However, because Jesus arose never to die again, we are safe in Christ even when the beast threatens to devour us. “He who has an ear, let him hear. If anyone is to go into captivity, into captivity he will go. If anyone is to be killed with sword, with the sword he will be killed. This calls for patient endurance and faithfulness on the part of the saints” (Rev. 13:9–10).

God intends to save and protect his people in Christ (e.g., Rom. 8:28) and ultimately to destroy those who wickedly remain opposed to Christ. There is no power, no enemy, that can thwart God’s electing purpose. We, too, like David in Psalm 16, can praise God because he has made our lot secure in Christ.