Original Meaning
QUEEN ESTHER WAS last mentioned in 9:13, when she requested the second day of killing and the humiliation of the bodies of Haman’s sons. As the author reports it, she was the major player during the days of holy war; Mordecai was not mentioned as an active agent. Now Esther reappears to write “with full authority.” At the beginning of her story she is referred to as “Esther (the girl Mordecai had adopted, the daughter of his uncle Abihail)” (2:15). At the end of her story her Jewish identity and Persian position are integrated in the reference to her as “Queen Esther, daughter of Abihail,” who writes “with full authority to confirm this second letter concerning Purim” (9:29). The Hebrew of this passage is obscure, making it difficult to know with certainty how many letters were written and which letter is the “second” one.
It is clear that the writing down of the events forms the authoritative basis on which future generations were to celebrate the holiday. This is consistent with the emphasis throughout this book on the written word. In Esther, written decrees are necessary to effect law, and once written in the king’s name they are irrevocable. In a humorous parody of the notorious bureaucracy of the Persian court, one targum of Esther says that the women of the king’s harem were summoned to his bed by written memo! (Can you imagine the king dictating that invitation to the royal scribes?) In Esther, the written word not only has authority, it has perpetuity. As Clines puts it, “In Esther, reality tends toward inscripturation, and attains its true quality only when it is written down. What is written is valid and permanent; what happens merely happens and is thereupon cast to the winds—unless it is recorded.”1
It is therefore remarkable that Esther, Jewish woman and Persian queen, should write with full authority to confirm Mordecai’s letter and establish Purim as something to be remembered and observed in perpetuity. The Hebrew is clear in using the third singular, feminine form of the verb “to write,” making it certain that Esther is the one who writes this final confirmation of Purim. The phrase translated “along with Mordecai the Jew” is grammatically problematic in the Hebrew because of the gender and number of the verb; it is possibly a later addition. Mordecai first records the events and sends letters to the Jews to celebrate Purim annually (9:20). Then Esther writes “with full authority” to confirm the establishment of the feast.
In verse 32 it is “Esther’s decree” that “confirmed” the regulations concerning Purim, which was written down in the archives. The form of the noun translated “decree” is the same word previously used in 1:15 to refer to the king’s command to Vashti and in 2:20 to Mordecai’s command to Esther. Apparently the author’s use of this word invites the reader to consider Queen Esther’s word to be on par with that of Xerxes and Mordecai.
Esther is remarkable in biblical history not only for her role in the deliverance of God’s people, but for the authority she achieved to write—though she most likely used the scribes to record her words, just as Haman and Mordecai had done. Esther had initiated Mordecai’s promotion and bestowed his wealth, and it was her authority that confirmed his previous letter. No other woman among God’s people wrote with authority to confirm and establish a religious practice that still stands today. The importance of most biblical women, such as Sarah and Hannah, lies in their motherhood. Esther’s importance to the covenant people is not as a mother, but as a queen.
Nevertheless, in chapter 10 it is Mordecai who gets the last word. When life returned to normal after the crisis, Mordecai continued to use his rank as second only to the king for the benefit of his people. When Haman had worn Xerxes’ signet ring, he was effectively, though not formally, the king of the enemies of the Jews. Now Mordecai wears that same ring and is effectively, though not formally, king of the Jews. As the majority of Jews continued ever after to live in lands governed by pagan powers, Mordecai became the paradigm of a Jew who could achieve success in a pagan world and use that achievement for the protection and well-being of the Jewish people.
The ancient Greek version of the Esther story (LXX) was produced during the intertestamental period and reflects the high esteem in which Mordecai was held. The original Hebrew autograph is the divinely inspired text, but the subsequent Greek translation gives us insight into how the story was understood in the intertestamental period. There are two chapters inserted into the Greek version that envelop the book. Referred to as addition A and F, these two chapters contain, respectively, a dream of Mordecai and its interpretation.2 The effect of these two additional chapters is to cast Mordecai as a prophetic dreamer similar to Joseph or Daniel.
The tale of Esther and Mordecai in the court of Xerxes is introduced in the Greek version with addition A, where Mordecai has a bizarre dream of two dragons prepared to fight, of a righteous nation about to perish, and of a little spring of water that becomes a great river. In addition F, which ends the LXX version of Esther, Mordecai remembers the dream he had and interprets the events that had transpired as the fulfillment of his prophetic dream.
These things have come from God. The little spring that became a river, Esther is that river. . . . The two dragons are I myself and Haman. The nations gathered to destroy the name of the Jews. But my people, this is Israel, who cried out to God and were saved. The Lord saved his people and the Lord delivered us from all these evil things. . . . Because of this he [God] made two lots, one for the people of God and one for all the nations. And these two lots came to the hour and day of judgment before God and for all the nations. (LXX Est. F:1–8, pers. trans.)
The eschatological significance of the events that had transpired in Persia and the explicit belief that they were controlled by God are revealed through Mordecai’s interpretation of his dream in this Greek version of the story. The Jews of the Diaspora continued to face the threat of death brought by the changing winds of political intrigue under the Hellenistic kings. Without a king of their own, a Jewish man in high places in government was seen as the agent of God’s covenant protection. Mordecai provided both a rationale and a role model for successive generations.
Bridging Contexts
THE MAIN CHARACTER in Esther. When students of mine reading the Hebrew text of Esther were asked to identify the main character, opinions were evenly divided between Esther and Mordecai. On literary grounds Esther is the main character of the story, but it is difficult to separate the roles of Esther and Mordecai in the story of this great deliverance.
• Had Mordecai not reported the assassination plot on Xerxes’ life, he would not have later been due a reward from the king; but had Esther not been Xerxes’ queen, Mordecai may not have been credited for his loyalty.
• Had Mordecai not refused to bow before Haman, the crisis would not have happened; but had Esther refused to please the king in his bedroom, there would have been no one to intercede for her people.
• Mordecai had persuaded Esther to go uninvited into the king’s presence to plead for her people; but Esther had devised the strategy of forcing a confrontation between Haman and the king.
• Had Esther not identified Mordecai to the king as her close relative, Mordecai would not have worn the king’s signet ring; but without Mordecai’s decree, Haman’s decree of death would have prevailed.
• Because Mordecai had come to power, the fear of him reversed the Jews’ fate; but had Esther not interceded for her people, they would have perished.
Even at the very end of the book, in 9:29–32, it is difficult to completely separate Mordecai’s role and authority from Esther’s in writing the documents that established Purim. As Fox observes,
the author depicts a successful relationship of power-sharing between male and female, in which both attain prestige and influence in the community. In the pivotal scene in chapter 4, man and woman give each other mutual obedience.3
The ancient Greek version magnifies Mordecai’s prominence in the story and diminishes Esther’s. One easily quantifiable illustration of this is found by counting the number of occurrences of Esther’s name compared to Mordecai’s. In the Hebrew text each is mentioned by name an almost equal number of times (Esther, fifty-five times; Mordecai, fifty-two). In the LXX., including the six additional chapters, Esther is mentioned by name forty-six times and Mordecai, fifty-four.4 Perhaps this reflects the esteem with which Mordecai was so highly regarded at the time the Greek translation was made. It may also reflect a possible desire for Jews of the Ptolemaic era to distance themselves from a female queen during the time of a succession of Ptolemaic queens named Cleopatra, who ruled over them in Egypt when the Greek translation is believed to have been made.
Nevertheless, in the scene when Esther calls a fast in preparation for her uninvited audience with Xerxes, the Greek version includes the prayers of both Esther and Mordecai that are not found in the Hebrew (and therefore, neither are they found in the NIV).5 These prayers introduce a strong religious element to the Greek version that moves the story into the mainstream of biblical tradition. In their prayers Mordecai and Esther mention Abraham, the Exodus, circumcision, and the temple. They plead with God to deliver them even as he had delivered their ancestors from Egypt. However, in this case, Esther and Mordecai were pleading for a people in exile, standing under the judgment of God. Was their annihilation to be the final and ultimate execution of his severe justice? Was there any point in pleading with God?
In their plea, Mordecai and Esther echo words and phrases from the Greek version of Moses’ prayer as he intercedes for God’s people in Deuteronomy 9:26–29. Neither Mordecai alone nor Esther alone is portrayed as the intercessor and agent of deliverance. It is the combination of their two independent prayers that echoes the ancient plea of their ancestor, Moses.6 In the LXX version, Esther and Mordecai together succeed as the spiritual leaders of God’s people.
Esther and Mordecai as partners. The Lord instructed Moses to write his words on a scroll because God’s promise to defeat the Amalekites was “something to be remembered” (Ex. 17:14). Just as the independent prayers of Esther and Mordecai in the Greek version together echo Moses’ prayer, so in the canonical Hebrew book the writings of Mordecai and Esther together establish Purim as something to be remembered. In prayer, in concert of action, and in writing, Esther and Mordecai together reenact Moses’ leadership of the covenant people.
The meta-message of what is implied by the Hebrew and amplified in its Greek translation is that both Esther and Mordecai were indispensable as God worked providentially to fulfill his covenant to his people exiled for their sin in Persia. Esther was not and, because of her gender, could not have been a religious leader of the Jews. But then neither was Mordecai. He was not a prophet, priest, or king in Israel.
Esther was both queen and Jewish, effectively making her the queen of the Jews during this crisis period. Because Esther willingly shared her power with Mordecai, he wore the signet ring of the Persian king, effectively making him king of the Jews. Mordecai was the highest-ranking Jewish man at that moment in history, bearing the authority of a pagan monarch. Esther and Mordecai together functioned as Israel’s monarchy in the Persian exile. Together they accomplished what had previously been entrusted to the theocratic monarchy when God’s people lived within the borders of the Promised Land—successfully leading holy war, assuring the survival and safety of the covenant people, and exercising authority over the religious practices of the people.
Neither Esther nor Mordecai had the power or position alone to deliver their people. It was only as they acted in concerted power and authority that they were able to lead God’s people through the crisis of death and into deliverance. Neither of them aspired to the role; perhaps neither of them deserved it. It was thrust on them by a series of improbable circumstances largely beyond their control. Nevertheless, their unlikely partnership accomplished God’s ancient promise, and the Jewish race was preserved until in the fullness of time, God entered history through this people as the Messiah. How marvelous are God’s inscrutable ways!
Contemporary Significance
BEYOND MOTHERHOOD AND ordination. Because the book of Esther has eschatological significance, it endows eternal purpose to the partnership of women and men in roles other than marriage and childbearing. Moreover, it endows the laity of the church with that same eternal purpose. God has placed Christian women and men not only in marriage relationship, but in community with one another in the church. The sound marriage and family structure is essential for the well-being of both society and church, but it is not the only way in which women and men may effectively relate to each other for the glory of God. Christian men are not only husbands and fathers, nor are Christian women only wives and mothers. Both have a wider range of interests, talents, gifts, and calling from the Lord.
Consider the words of Jesus in Luke 18:29–30, which suggest that family relationships and responsibilities do not exhaust our service to God:
“I tell you the truth,” Jesus said to them, “no one who has left home or wife or brothers or parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God will fail to receive many times as much in this age and, in the age to come, eternal life.”
Since the time of Christ both men and women have a responsibility beyond the confines of the home. In our society women and men receive the same education in the classroom, fill the same positions in the workplace, and worship side by side in the church. Scripture affirms that both women and men bear the image of God (Gen. 1:27) and have equal standing in Christ (Gal. 3:28). The relationship of men and women in community outside the family should work for the glory of God and the fulfillment of his redemptive purposes.
Unfortunately, the question of woman’s role in the church has been too narrowly focused on the question of ordination. In fact, relatively few Christians—either men or women—are heading for ordination, and so the discussion completely overlooks the reality of life for most members of the church. Nevertheless, the evangelical church unfortunately has made the question of ordination the central one in its discussion of women’s roles and, worse yet, in many places a litmus test of orthodoxy (regardless of whether one defines “orthodoxy” as favoring or opposing women’s ordination). Judging from the state of the discussion, one would think that the church has no vision for the significance of a woman’s life in Christ other than motherhood or ordination. Can no other calling be affirmed?
Not only the focus of the discussion of a woman’s role in the church, but also the format has been unproductive. In many churches discussions work toward a negative summary of what women cannot do, regardless of how the given church body defines the role. Women need a positive statement from the church validating their roles as other than wives and mothers and affirming their calling as responsible adults living and working for the glory of God.
The role of the laity. The story of how Esther and Mordecai share responsibility in a mutually dependent way is a story that dignifies the role of the laity. It affords the church the opportunity to reflect on the part the laity have to play in the larger picture of life and redemptive history. Neither Esther nor Mordecai held “ordained” positions in the community of faith, yet it is they, and not the “ordained clergy” of that period (to use modern terms), who find a place in redemptive history. It is by their “lay leadership” (to use another modern expression) that Purim was instituted and still stands. Moreover, it was through their “secular” vocations—Mordecai as a court official and Esther as queen of a pagan empire—that God worked.
In other words, the story of Esther and Mordecai is an example of how the laity of the church has also been vested with an essential place in God’s plan of redemption. While Christians might debate whether the ordained clergy may or may not be both male and female, there is no escaping the fact that the body of Christ is certainly both.
The story of Esther and Mordecai endows the “secular” roles of God’s people with eternal significance. As a young Christian I was once taught that every Christian should reach a point of spiritual maturity that takes them into “full-time Christian work” as a pastor, missionary, evangelist, or Bible teacher. In retrospect, I believe that well-intentioned teaching had a deficient theology of the laity, as the “holy priesthood” chosen by God (1 Peter 2:4–5). I also suspect that the teaching was actually intended, perhaps unconsciously, for the men of the congregation, because the women who seriously responded to it met resistance and suspicion whereas the men were applauded and affirmed. The point, however, is that the church must not forget the spiritual significance of vocation, of God calling women and men to “secular” positions where their work glorifies him no less than the work of those called to be ordained clergy in the church.
Redemptive history and “secular” history. The story of Esther and Mordecai shows how God fulfills his covenant promise from age to age through divine providence in the lives of both women and men. In the book of Esther we see the inseparable relationship between God’s redemptive covenant and his providential rule of history. God rules not only redemptive history, but by his power all of history serves his redemptive purposes. Redemptive history and secular history are not two separate streams of human existence, but one. Redemptive history is united to and is one with “secular” history. The events that define redemptive history emerge from the stream of “secular” history only by being so identified and interpreted through Scripture.
The union of redemptive history and “secular” history under God’s sovereign rule implies a synergistic relationship between the clergy and the laity as the body of Christ fulfills its role in the world today. The Reformation principle of the “priesthood of all believers” was developed in opposition to a clergy that was withdrawn and separated from the unordained believer both in life and liturgy. The “holy” and the “secular” were deliberately kept apart. The laity participated in God’s redemptive work only by receiving the sacraments from the ordained clergy, who stood between them and Christ. The medieval clergy had in effect taken Christ hostage, and in their human weakness used their power to abuse God’s grace. The Reformation put God’s Word into the language of the people and the Bible into the hands of the laity. The Reformers saw salvation as a living relationship with the Lord, embracing every aspect of life.
Leadership of the church and administration of the sacraments are rightly the responsibility of the ordained clergy, but God’s redemptive work in the world is not confined to those who are ordained. The apostle Paul writes in Ephesians 4:12 that those holding the offices of the church are to equip God’s people, both women and men, for the work of ministry so that the body of Christ might reach its goal in him. The ordained officers of the church do not alone carry the work of the Lord from generation to generation. Both clergy and laity have a role in the ministry of the gospel. The work of the laity is shown both in Scripture and history to be essential for actualizing God’s redemptive plan and bringing it to its culmination in Christ. The significance of Esther and Mordecai as agents of God’s providential rule encourage all of us to live for Christ as we live out the calling God has given to us, both men and women, whatever that calling may be.
As we continue to live faithfully in Christ, we can be sure that whatever happens to us—the decisions we make, the mistakes we regret, and even the sins that shame us—are all links in God’s plan not only for our individual lives but for his greater work in history. Through his inscrutable ways, along paths that are sometimes dark and treacherous, he brings his people to that day when all creation will rejoice that our sorrow has been turned into joy and our mourning into celebration.