Original Meaning

MORDECAI REACTS WITH great emotion when he hears that the personal conflict between himself and Haman has brought the entire Jewish nation into jeopardy. Haman’s plan to annihilate all the Jewish people is way out of proportion to Mordecai’s offense. Apparently Mordecai’s behavior had merely given Haman the excuse to put his power behind his anti-Semitism. Whether or not Haman was a genetic descendent of the Amalekites, he is displaying the same contempt for God’s people that Moses and the Israelites experienced on their way to the Promised Land (Ex. 17:8–16; see comments on Est. 2:19–3:15).

Upon hearing of the king’s decree, Mordecai tears his clothes and puts on sackcloth and ashes in an act of deep mourning and distress. This gesture was common throughout the biblical period. Joshua and Caleb tore their clothes when they heard the people wanted to return to Egypt rather than to enter the land God had promised to give them (Num. 14:6). David ripped his clothing on several occasions, for instance, after hearing of the deaths of Saul (2 Sam. 1:11), Abner (3:31), and Amnon (13:31). Eliakim and Shebna tore their clothing when Jerusalem was threatened by the Assyrians (Isa. 36:22). Ezra used this same gesture to express his distress that God’s people, including the priests and Levites, had intermarried with pagan Gentiles (Ezra 9:3). The Persians in Susa would have recognized the significance of Mordecai’s behavior, for they, too, tore their clothes in grief when they were defeated by the Greeks in battle at Salamis.1

Although apparently separated from direct contact with Mordecai during the first five years of her marriage to Xerxes, Esther remains concerned for him. His distress distresses her, and she sends clothing to him to replace his sackcloth. However, it is only when he refuses to accept her gift that she attempts to find out what is actually troubling her cousin.

When Esther’s attending eunuch, Hathach, however, brings Mordecai’s entreaty that she go to the king to plead for “her” people, she begs off, explaining that she no longer routinely sees the king. Moreover, as Mordecai well knows, she cannot go to the king uninvited without risking her life, for unless Xerxes extends his golden scepter, her life will be taken on the spot. Surely Mordecai does not mean to suggest she jeopardize herself like that!

Herodotus attests that the Persian kings enforced a law first instituted by Deioces the Mede forbidding anyone to approach the king without a summons.2 The correct protocol was to request an audience with the king through his messenger-eunuchs and await an invitation for an audience. There were only seven men in the court known as the king’s “Friends,” who were permitted “to see the face of the king.” Herodotus explains that only they could enter the king’s presence unannounced, except when he was sleeping with a woman.

Haman had access to the king, but Esther did not. Apparently she does not expect to see the king anytime soon, since he has not summoned her for thirty days. She chooses not to request an audience, perhaps expecting to be ignored. Apparently five years into her marriage, the king’s desire for her has cooled. Or given her mission, perhaps she does not wish to arouse the suspicions of the court by requesting an audience. Whatever her fears, it seems likely that the ruthless King Xerxes will not extend the golden scepter if the queen’s death would be somehow expedient to his other interests.

Mordecai replies to Esther, “If you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place . . . and who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” Mordecai pointedly remarks that even if the queen should decide to continue to hide her Jewish identity, as he himself had previously advised, she will face certain death, but the Jews will be helped “from another place.” Some commentators have seen in this phrase an allusion to God’s intervention, should human agency fail. The reason the phrase “from another place” can be construed as a veiled reference to God is because in rabbinical Hebrew God is sometimes referred to as “the Place” (see Genesis Rabba [§68], where God is referred to as “the Place” in which all creation exists). This rabbinical idiom, however, dates from a later age; in any case, Mordecai does not say that help for the Jews will arise from “the Place,” but simply from “another place.” Mordecai is expressing his confidence that the Jews will not face annihilation, but will be helped through some other human agent.

Modern interpreters are not the only ones to see in this phrase a possible allusion to God. One of the two ancient Greek translations of Esther rephrases Mordecai’s statement this way: “If you neglect to help your people, then God will be their help and salvation, but you and your father’s house will perish.”3 However, this does not necessarily mean that “from another place” was understood by the Greek translator as a reference to God. God is referred to many places throughout the Greek versions of Esther where he is not in the Hebrew text (from which the NIV was translated). The reading in the Greek may simply be one of the many places where a reference to God is added independently from how the Hebrew read.

If “from another place” is a euphemism for God, Mordecai’s statement means that if Esther fails to act, God himself will intervene. This understanding is problematic, for it is not a choice between Esther’s delivering the Jews or God’s delivering them. Rather, it is a question of what human agency God will use to deliver the Jews since they have no king. Mordecai’s point is that the Jews will be delivered somehow, but that Esther’s doom is certain if she fails to act.

In Mordecai’s thinking, Esther’s life may be in jeopardy if she goes to the king uninvited, but her doom is certain if she does not. Mordecai’s remark is unsettling. If Esther fails to act as he is suggesting, is he threatening to reveal her identity as a Jew, thus bringing her under Haman’s decree? Or is he invoking divine judgment on her for her apparent apathy toward her people? Esther probably wondered the same thing.

Ronald Pierce sees Mordecai as actually threatening Esther’s life in this passage. He points out that Mordecai is certain that if Esther refuses, help will arise from another place, and the Jews will be delivered; but even so, Esther will die.4 Pierce interprets this to mean that Mordecai is prepared to take things into his own hands and kill Esther if she betrays her people in this dire hour. Therefore, he sees no reason to applaud Esther’s bravery for going to the king because she has at least a chance of surviving an uninvited audience with her husband, while apparently no chance of surviving Mordecai’s threat if she refuses. The author leaves the reader with tantalizing ambiguity.

Mordecai’s words also suggest that there is a purpose in all that has happened that exceeds Esther’s own interests. He asks, “. . . and who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” Mordecai points out that all of the previous circumstances of Esther’s life that led her to the Persian throne may have been just for this moment when she can intercede for her people.

It is only after hearing this remark containing both a veiled threat and a suggestion of a greater purpose that Esther decides to act as Mordecai wishes. Perhaps she believes Mordecai’s veiled threat and thinks it safer to take her chances with Xerxes. Or perhaps she glimpses a greater vision of the purpose for her life, regardless of the outcome (“If I perish, I perish”). The author does not let us in on Esther’s thoughts. In either case, this is the last time in the story that Mordecai commands Esther. After deciding to go to the king, she gives Mordecai a command, which he “went away and carried out.” Esther commands Mordecai to call the Jews of Susa to a fast.

Bridging Contexts

THE BOOK OF Esther and the prophet Joel. Biblical authors often use phrases from the other biblical books known to them, which would presumably also be known to the original readers. For instance, in addition to quoting full sentences from the Old Testament, the New Testament writers copiously use brief phrases from the Old Testament that would have been familiar to their readers. Richard Hays has pointed out how these “echoes” of the Old Testament can inform our interpretation:

When a literary echo links the text in which it occurs to an earlier text, the figurative effect of the echo can lie in the unstated or suppressed (transumed) points of resonance between the two texts. . . . Allusive echo functions to suggest to the reader that text B should be understood in light of a broad interplay with text A, encompassing aspects of A beyond those explicitly echoed. . . . Metalepsis . . . places the reader within a field of whispered or unstated correspondences.5

The Hebrew phrase translated in the NIV of Esther 4:3 as “with fasting, weeping and wailing” occurs in both 4:3 and in Joel 2:12.6 (Of course, the individual words of this phrase occur many other times in the Old Testament.) This phrase forms an intertextual link between Esther and Joel. The author of Esther, in other words, tells this episode of the story using an allusive echo of Joel 2. Metalepsis thus places the readers of Esther 4 within “a field of whispered or unstated correspondences” between the events of this chapter and the words of the prophet in Joel 2. If this echo is intentional, the author of Esther assumes his readers are familiar enough with Joel’s words to recognize them and invites his readers to interpret Esther 4 in light of its broad interplay with Joel 2.7

In the threat of impending judgment, the Lord commands his people through the prophet Joel (see Joel 2:12–14):

“Even now,” declares the Lord,

“return to me with all your heart,

with fasting and weeping and mourning.”

Rend your heart

and not your garments.

Return to the Lord your God,

for he is gracious and compassionate,

slow to anger and abounding in love,

and he relents from sending calamity.

Who knows? He may turn and have pity

and leave behind a blessing. . . . (emphasis added)

Since the same Hebrew phrase found in the Lord’s exhortation through the prophet Joel occurs in Esther 4:3 to describe the response of Mordecai and the Jews to the edict of death, the author, without explicitly mentioning divine judgment, casts Haman’s pogrom as an occasion for the Jewish people, in exile for their sin, to turn to their Lord, who may relent from sending this calamity on them. The very next statement Joel makes, “Rend your heart and not your garments,” resonates with Mordecai’s reaction to Haman’s edict. The invitation in Joel 2 to turn to the Lord in repentance is invoked by the allusive echo in Esther. The author of Esther portrays the Jews’ response of “fasting, weeping and wailing” in the face of this calamity as the repentance called for by Joel.

Prayer is usually assumed to accompany fasting in biblical idiom. Some commentators infer that the Jewish people naturally prayed for deliverance as they fasted, especially since Esther requests a fast “for me” (v. 16), presumably a request for intercessory prayer.8 Ronald Pierce takes the opposite view, that while readers would expect prayer to be mentioned in the same breath as fasting, its conspicuous absence is a further indication of the prayerlessness of secularization.9 Notice, however, that prayer is also not explicitly mentioned in the call to repentance in Joel 2.

If the people fast, weep, and mourn, Joel says, “Who knows? He [the Lord God] may turn and have pity.” Thus Mordecai’s statement, “and who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” again echoes Joel’s, suggesting that Esther’s royal position is the means by which the Lord God might “turn and have pity” on his people, “relenting from sending calamity.”

The prophecy of Joel continues (Joel 2:15–16a):

Blow the trumpet in Zion,

declare a holy fast,

call a sacred assembly.

Gather the people,

consecrate the assembly. . . .

Whether Esther was mindful of Joel’s prophecy or not, she in effect “blows the trumpet in Zion,” commanding Mordecai to call a fast for all the Jews of Susa, to see if the Lord may relent from sending this calamity on her people. For the first time in this story Esther identifies herself with God’s people and responds to the prophetic call to repentance by joining with the Jews of Susa in this fast.

Identity crisis for Esther. When the situation had come to a crisis, Esther was brought to a defining moment in her life by circumstances over which she had no control. Mordecai said to Esther, “If you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place . . . and who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” It was for “such a time as this” that she was forced to choose between identifying herself with God’s covenant people or continuing to live as a pagan in the king’s court. Apparently no one in the court, including her own husband, knew that she was a Jew. To save her people would mean revealing her own identity as well. She would be admitting that she had not been living as a devout Jew should live. Furthermore, she would be identifying herself as a target of destruction under Haman’s decree and an easy mark in the treacherous Persian court.

In this moment, Esther has to decide who she really is. As L. Ryken points out, Esther is the only person in the story with two names—her Hebrew name, Hadassah, and her Persian name, Esther. He reads this as an indication of the identity crisis with which she is faced when, after being raised as a Jew, she is thrust into the king’s court where she must live as a pagan.10 Her Jewish character led her to obey Mordecai, which meant, paradoxically, that she must deny that character and live as a pagan. She found favor in the court of King Xerxes, enabling her to become an agent through whom God would fulfill his ancient promise to her people, whether she was aware of it or not. Nevertheless, she had to overcome herself in order to do what God had created her and positioned her to do.

Up to this point in the story, while Esther was pretending to be a pagan, she was controlled by her circumstances. She has been passive in the story, not initiating action, but following along the path of least resistance. Then comes that defining moment when she is faced with taking responsibility for the life God has given her by identifying herself with the people of God. According to Ryken, it is through this traumatic ordeal that Esther, “initially a beautiful young woman with a weak character, becomes transformed into a person with heroic moral stature and political skill.”11

If Esther decides to remain silent and to continue to live as a pagan, God will use some other means to fulfill his covenant promises. Deliverance will arise from another place. Yet God has placed Esther in that era of history, in that city of Persia, and even in that bedroom of Xerxes, so that when the moment comes, he can fulfill the ancient promise through her. In this scene the interaction of human responsibility with divine sovereignty is eloquently pictured. Esther comes to this defining moment through her past decisions, whether they are right or wrong. The decision she now faces will irrevocably define her future and determine the destiny of her people as well. Her predecessor, Vashti, was deposed for taking her own initiative. If the king’s ardor has cooled toward Esther, given the intrigues of royal polygamy, perhaps Xerxes will find it expedient to allow Esther to die one way or another. She has good reason to be afraid of the consequences of her decision.

While her people fast with her, Esther overcomes herself and finds the courage to reveal her identity as a Jew before Xerxes regardless of the consequences. Whether or not she is mindful of the covenant and its promises, her decision to identify with God’s people is a decision to risk being an agent through whom God can fulfill those promises.

Who is the main character in the story? This development in Esther’s character suggests that the author understands her to be the main character of the story. The question of whether Mordecai or Esther is the main character has been debated. An informal poll I took of about fifteen seminary students reading the book in Hebrew showed that about half thought Mordecai was the main character and half, Esther.

Scholars, too, have debated this question. A literary analysis of characterization in the book suggests that the three couples, Vashti and Xerxes, Zeresh and Haman, and Esther and Mordecai, function as literary foils, that is, pairs that are intended to be compared and contrasted.12 As a literary character, Esther’s development is complex and progressive throughout the story in contrast to Mordecai, who shows no character development through his rise to power. This suggests that in the author’s mind, Esther is the main character on whom he expects his readers to focus.

Esther’s decision to go to the king begins a role reversal with Mordecai. Although he continues to play a prominent role in the story, it is only because Esther facilitates his involvement. It is Esther, not Mordecai, who plans the strategy to unmask Haman and prevent the genocide, and it is Esther, not Mordecai, who finally has to courageously face the king. Furthermore, although it is not known that the author of the book assigned its name, the book is, after all, called “Esther,” not “Mordecai.” Someone must therefore have considered Esther to be the main character. Given that Esther is the main character of the story, the author invites his readers to reflect on her character development, comparing it perhaps with our own.

After her decision to identify herself with God’s people, Esther becomes the active agent, commanding Mordecai, planning a strategy to save her people, and even confronting Haman to his face. Her decision energizes her, gives her purpose, and emboldens her to face a threatening and uncertain future. There is first a great reversal in Esther’s own life, through which consequently comes the great reversal of the destiny for her people. The defining moment in her own life is at the same time a crucial moment through which God will sovereignly fulfill his promise to his people in Persia. This is where wisdom and encouragement for Christian living is found in the example of Esther’s life.

The Bible from Genesis to Revelation is the story of God’s reconciling fallen humanity to himself in Jesus Christ. Other than Jesus himself, the people in the biblical stories are no paragons of virtue. Each of them has serious character flaws and questionable motives. Because of this, we must be cautious and discerning before imitating the specific behaviors of any biblical person, particularly those of the Old Testament. As Christians our exemplary role model is Jesus, and the basis for ethical living the fruit of the indwelling Holy Spirit (Gal. 5).

Each of the biblical characters is shown in relationship to God and his people. Some end up rejecting God and opposing his work. Those who are reconciled to God become testimonies of God’s redemptive work in history, and to that extent are examples to be followed. The author of the Esther story does not hold up Esther or Mordecai as exemplary role models in their specific behaviors. But his story does show that there are two opposing sides represented by God’s people, albeit scattered in exile, and the rest of humanity, who by opposing God’s people end up opposing God himself.

Esther seems caught between the Gentile world of the pagan court and the Jewish world in which she was raised. By showing all the good that came from her decision to identify with God’s covenant people, the biblical author implicitly invites his readers to consider where they are in relationship to God. Thus, as readers today we can gain insight and wisdom in the example of Esther as she resolves the tension in her identity by deciding to cast her lot with God’s covenant people.

Contemporary Significance

DEFINING MOMENTS. IT is unlikely that any of us will ever be in Esther’s dire predicament, but every one of us faces defining moments in our own lives. Certainly the most fundamental of them comes when we hear the gospel of Jesus Christ and decide how to respond to it. The gospel confronts us with the decision either to continue to live as pagans or to identify ourselves with God’s people, the church. Our choice defines who we are and with what people we identify. The decision to be identified with Christ energizes our lives. It gives us a purpose bigger than our own concerns and problems and a hope that goes beyond our own death. It transforms us into people moved by the Holy Spirit, human agents of God’s grace and love in the world.

However, the new birth is only the beginning of decisions. It is followed by a continuous sequence of defining moments throughout life as we daily face decisions that demand we choose either to identify ourselves with Christ by obedience to his Word or to live as pagans in that moment. Only if we live as Christ commands, in every moment and every decision, will we be the agents through whom the promises of the new covenant are fulfilled. By the winsome testimony of our words and our lives, others are called to come to Christ and to identify with his people. By sustained obedience to God’s Word, which the apostle Paul calls “the renewing of your mind” (Rom. 12:2), God’s promise of his transforming work in our own lives is realized and touches the lives of others in ways we can neither control nor predict.

Motivation to live as God’s child. However, it sometimes happens that even after coming to Christ, some Christians continue to think and live like pagans. At decision points, they take the path of least resistance instead of making the hard choice to obey God’s unpopular Word. How long can one live like a pagan before one’s true identity is revealed?

It seems to be human nature that sometimes we will do the right thing only when it becomes too painful to continue to do the wrong thing! Esther finds herself between a rock and hard place. Her life is in jeopardy by whichever choice she makes. She decides finally to identify with God’s people only after feeling too threatened by the alternative. It is interesting to see that even though Esther’s decision to “fast, weep, and mourn” with her people is made under duress, she does nevertheless end up identifying herself with God’s covenant people. She leads her people to do what God commanded his people to do through the prophet Joel in the face of such calamity. In spite of its flawed quality, Esther’s right decision enables her to become the agent through whom her people actually are delivered, in fulfillment of the ancient promise.

It is encouraging to realize that even if we turn to God reluctantly and perhaps even for the wrong reasons, we are still putting ourselves in a position to receive God’s promise of mercy. The Lord’s hand may graciously lead and guide his people who are living like pagans in the court of the king, but those defining moments will come around when each must decide whether or not to identify with God’s people through obedience to his Word.

Some defining moments may come unexpectedly and pass quickly, yet with far-reaching consequences. That moment of opportunity when a student must decide whether to cheat on an exam, or a taxpayer on her tax return, or a husband on his wife, defines the person one way or the other, depending on the decision made. The incident becomes a part of who that person is within himself or herself, even if the decision never becomes known to others. The cumulative effect of many such defining moments in the past determines who we truly are at this moment.

Then there are those predictably big defining moments, such as when a profession or a marriage partner is chosen. There is probably no larger a defining moment than when we decide how we will spend our lives and with whom. Recently I met a woman who told me that in college her great desire was to be a foreign missionary. “But then I got engaged to a man who wasn’t a Christian, and . . . you know . . . ,” her voice trailed off with a fleeting look of embarrassment and regret.

Perhaps, like Esther, you have been brought to this moment in your life by circumstances over which you had no control, combined with flawed decisions you made along the way. Perhaps instead of living for God, you have so concealed your Christian faith that no one would even identify you as a Christian. Then suddenly you find yourself facing calamity, either in the circumstances of your life with others or just within your own inner emotional world. Regardless of the straits you find yourself in, turn to the Lord. Rend your heart, not your garment; “fast, weep, and mourn,” and return to the Lord your God. His purposes are greater than yours. And, who knows? Perhaps you have come to your present situation for such a time as this.