“Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, And into his courts with praise: Give thanks unto him, and bless his name” (Psalm 100:4 KJV).
Growing up in the church, my family was surrounded by singing. We would sing in all the regular services. Periodically there was a 5th Sunday singing. There were singings in surrounding congregations that we would attend. Our family would also sing when we had family gatherings. After I got married, my husband’s family and mine would gather at one another’s house to sing.
We can look to the scriptures to find out more about singing.
Singing is a command:
“Speak to one another with psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord” (Ephesians 5:19 ESV).
Singing is a way of teaching others about God:
According to Paul’s words,
“Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom” (Colossians 3:16a ESV).
Singing helps summarize Bible truths to “dwell in you richly”:
There are phrases we memorize, singing them over and over through the years, and they stick with us.
Singing can be used to strengthen each other during trials and tribulations as “Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God” (Acts 16:25a) while in prison.
Singing is also a way of praising God:
“Sing to God, sing in praise of his name, extol him who rides on the clouds; rejoice before him—his name is the Lord” (Psalm 68:4).
Singing is to build one another up:
In Colossians 3:12–16 we see singing at the end of a long list of duties and encouragement that God wants his chosen ones to show. He wants us to have compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another, forgiving each other as we have been forgiven, binding everything together with love and harmony, and singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs.
Singing does all of this: it lets the word of Christ dwell in us; It teaches and admonishes each other; Singing helps us praise God; and give thanks to God. While singing we are all united in harmony in the musical sense and in the spiritual sense. We are all praising God and giving thanks. I am so thankful God gave us voices to sing praises to Him.
“And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14b).
Have you ever looked back and said, “that was the providence of God working.” Providence is acts of normal circumstances guided by God for the use of his will to be accomplished.
Let’s look at Esther and how the Jewish people were saved. After King Ahasuerus, king of Susa, ordered Queen Vashti to never again come before the king when she did not obey his order, Esther was chosen among many young virgins to become his new queen.
Mordecai, Esther’s cousin, who raised her, was sitting at the king’s gate, overhearing two of the king’s eunuchs arguing, wanting to lay their hands on the king. Mordecai told this to Esther, and Esther relayed the information to the king in Mordecai’s name. It was then put into the book of chronicles.
Haman, King Ahasuerus’ right-hand man had been advanced above all other officials. Haman devised a plot to kill all the Jews after Mordecai did not bow to pay homage to him and learned he was a Jew.
Mordecai told Esther it was up to her to save the Jews. He asked her, “And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14b)
Esther served two meals for the king and Haman. After the first meal, that night the King couldn’t sleep. He requested the Chronicles to be read to him. The king found out that Mordecai had not been honored for turning in the men’s names who were plotting against him. The king asked Haman, how should honor be given to one who the king delights. Haman, thinking it was him, told the king all the elaborate royalty to be given to him. The king told Haman to go and do all these things to Mordecai. This upset Haman all the more.
At the second meal, Esther tells the king of the one who is planning to destroy and annihilate her and her people. She told him it was the wicked man, Haman. Haman tried begging for his life but the king ordered for Haman to be hung on the gallows he prepared for Mordecai.
God is not mentioned throughout the book of Esther but he is working behind the scenes. Mordecai was honored and given the position of Haman. The Jews defended themselves in battle. Ultimately they won and the Jewish nation was saved.
The providence of God saved Christ’s lineage, God’s chosen people.
Remember to never complain about your circumstances, and have a strong and Godly spirit like Esther. For we never know if we are put in a position, for such a time as this.
when our integrity is on the line, it is comforting to stand before God, depend on God’s relationship with each of us before we go out and face the not-so-forgiving world.”
in The Book of Psalms (Eerdmans, 2014)
As God’s people, meditating over the rich world of Psalm 26 can help us meet the challenges of this unforgiving world.
Genre and Context
Genre. Psalm 26 is a poetic prayer framed in the language of a plea of vindication, asking God to evaluate David’s commitment to the path of integrity. There are other genre suggestions made to account for the palatable sense of a legal complaint, or a priestly approach to God (26:6–8), a lament (26:1), or of its liturgical sensibilities for God’s people to approach God (26:6–8).
A complaint appeal to God seems, however, to be the most fitting literary form for the psalm. David implies throughout that his spiritual and moral integrity is under scrutiny, and explicitly invites the Lord’s assessment, confident that he will be found “on level ground” (26:12).
Context. There are nine psalms with the superscription (i.e., the headings) which reads, “Of David” (Psalms 25–28, 35, 37, 103, 138, 144). Although these are very ancient, they have never been thought of as inspired. They often provide ancient information about either its background (Psalm 51), its liturgical usage (“to the choirmaster,” Psalm 31), or its collection or authorship (Asaph, Psalm 80). “Of David” is so abbreviated and limited, Psalm 26 could be from any period of David’s life.
There are two additional ways to explore the context of individual psalms: their placement in the Psalter and internal references to other biblical themes. Psalm 26 is placed in Book 1 (Psalms 1–41) cataloging 37 Davidic psalms. The psalm also presumes an understanding of the priestly and sacrificial system (26:6–8), and the “path” of the righteous from Psalm 1.
Movements and Theology
Movements. The psalm clearly moves from the demand to be vindicated by God, with the declaration of having “walked in… integrity” (26:1) to the promise to “walk in … integrity” (26:12). The walk in integrity motif serves as an inclusio—two phrases serving as literary bookends. This is at the heart of the movement of the psalm. Once David’s past and present are vindicated by God’s refining fire of judgment, he promises to continue walking in integrity.
Our English translations do not always agree on how to divide these literary units but the most helpful way to see the movement of thought within the psalm is a five-part outline: (1) 26:1–3, (2) 26:4–5, (3) 26:6–8, (4) 26:9–10, and (5) 26:11–12. At the center of this outline are verses 6–8, which emphasize priestly preparation to stand in the presence of God (“Psalms” in The Transforming Word [ACU Press, 2009]). Clearly, David’s confidence in his innocence is not to be confused with a sense of sinlessness, for this reason, he pleads for redemption and grace (26:11b).
Theology. There are a few significant theological themes to soak in:
(1) A theology of vindication: In the opening invocation of God, David uses the verbal shopheteni (“vindicate me”; 26:1), a judicial term for “passing judgment.” It is used in the positive sense of “demonstrate my innocence.” The same phrase appears two other times: “Vindicate me, O Lord, My God” (35:24), and, “Vindicate me, O God, and defend my cause against ungodly people…” (43:1). Vindication of the righteous sufferer is a common theme throughout scripture (cf. Job; 1 Pet 2:18–25; Phil 2:5–11). David, too, insisted that God prove, try, and test his heart and mind (26:2).
(2) God’s Benevolent Faithfulness: Steadfast love (hesed) and faithfulness (‘emet) are found together fifty times in the Psalms. It affirms God’s character revealed at Mount Sinai: “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty…” (Exodus 34:6–7). As Jonah reluctantly learned, this God also exists for those outside of his covenant as well (Jonah 4:2). David knows his God prefers a redemptive relationship over penal punishment.
(3) The priestly approach: In Exodus 30:17–21, the priests who serve in the tabernacle (i.e., the Lord’s house; Psalm 26:8) must wash their hands and their feet in a bronze basin before entering, “so that they may not die” (17:21). Temple rituals for coming into the presence of God are often spiritualized by those outside the Levitical guild. David affirms that he appropriately prepares himself to be in God’s house since only by the grace of God do we have access to redemption, praise, and worship in his presence (Psalm 26:6–8, 11).
(4) The two paths: The first psalm establishes the two paths: the way of the righteous and the way of the wicked (Psalm 1:1, 4–6). The wicked and the righteous, and their deeds, are fully known by God; likewise, their fates are determined by their lifestyle. This theological framing is found in Psalm 26. David appeals to this language when he disavowed association with the wicked (26:5; 1:1), and in his request not to be lumped in among the sinners when God scoops them all together in judgment (26:9; 1:1, 5).
Application
It is hard to know the particular scenario in David’s life which gave rise to this psalm. The power of the inspired poetic form, however, is found in the accessibility of our contemporary settings despite the differences.
The integrity of God’s people will be challenged, but such an inspection should be welcomed if God’s people are seeking the way of the righteous in a humble, graceful, and redemptive way
Sources
Tanner, Beth LaNeel. “Psalm 26: Prepare to Appear” in DeClaissé-Walford, Nancy L., Rolf A. Jacobson, and Beth LaNeel Tanner. The Book of Psalms. NICOT Edited by E. J. Young, R. K. Harrison, and Robert L. Hubbard, Jr. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2014.
Marrs, Rick R. “Psalms” in The Transforming Word One-Volume Commentary on the Bible. Edited by Mark W. Hamilton. Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 2009.
[This is a pre-publication version of the chapter submission for the 87th Annual Freed-Hardeman University Lectureship (2023), Henderson, Tennessee. This is part of the lectureship book: For Such a Time as This: Restoring God’s People in Ezra, Nehemiah, and Esther (Link to book). Listen to the audio lecture as delivered here.]
In 483 B.C., Esther (Hadassah, Esth. 2:7) and her adoptive Jewish father-figure Mordecai rise to the innermost court of King Ahasuerus (Xerxes I, 486–465 B.C.) only to face the malcontent Haman who desires to eliminate the Jews spread across the vast Persian empire[1] through a state-sanctioned “pogrom” (Esth. 3:1–15, 5:9–14).[2] In chapter eight, Esther and Mordecai take advantage of Haman’s missteps and execution (cf. Esth. 6:13; 7:1–10).
The ascendant Mordecai uses his newly minted authority to issue a “self-defense” law protecting these diaspora Jews from this state-sanctioned genocide. They may now protect themselves from Haman’s pogrom across the Persian empire (Esth. 8:9). Esther inaugurates the Feast of Purim to commemorate their deliverance (Esth. 9:20–32). Since ancient times, the book is read as part of this spring feast along with “noisy, merry and secular” merriment (Webb 111).
The narrative of Esther leads the reader to reflect on the interplay between “coincidence,” human evil, divine sovereignty, and Israel’s preservation through its conflict-resolution story-arch. Esther 8 continues to speak to God’s people who must often live in hostile, secular, or unfavorable societies, calling on the faithful to endure the “Hamans” of their own time and to trust in God who can reverse the fate of his people.
EXEGESIS
Genre and Literary Movement
Esther is written in historical prose and outlines this history in dilemma-resolution format: how will the Jews of the Persian diaspora survive a state-sanctioned pogrom? The answer provides the historical foundation for the celebration of Purim. The narrative moves forward through a series of unfolding “coincidences” within the Persian court of Ahasuerus quickly immersing the reader into the crux of the story (Arnold and Beyer 272).[3] The artistry and realism of this story rely heavily on humor (satire), irony, and recurring motifs (Longman and Dillard 219–20). Clearly, Esther offers a unique kind of historical storytelling, one which forces the reader to conclude God is at work protecting his people from genocide.
Esther 8:1–17 is critical to the literary progression of the book’s plot as it functions as a bridge to the resolution of the narrative (LaSor, Hubbard, Bush 534–37). Haman’s plot to “destroy” the Jews by decree in a year’s time is introduced (3:1–15), and Mordecai successfully enlists Queen Esther to intercede (4:1–5:8). Matters complicate when an infuriated Haman plans to kill Mordecai on the “gallows” (5:9–6:14). [All Scripture references are from the English Standard Version unless otherwise noted.]
During a feast, the effect of Haman’s pogrom on Esther and against her people is revealed to the king; then, by a colossal misunderstanding, Haman is executed on the gallows built for Mordecai (7:1–10). Mordecai ascends to Haman’s position, with his estate, and then writes an edict authorizing the provincial Jews to protect themselves (8:1–17). This only partially resolves the problem. The full resolution takes place later in the “battle” of Purim (9:1–19).
Exegetical Analysis
Esther 8:1–17 reports how Mordecai and Esther “revoke” the disgraced Haman’s pogrom by authorizing the diaspora Jews across the Persian empire to protect themselves.
The Succession of Mordecai (Esth. 8:1–2)
Haman is treated as an “enemy of the state.” Following Haman’s execution (Esth. 7:10), the “foe and enemy” of the Jews is treated as “an enemy of the state” by the confiscation and transference of his estate and his position to Mordecai (Esth. 7:6; 8:1–2). Zeresh, Haman’s wife, had previously given him an ominous prediction of his impending failure (6:13). King Ahasuerus moves quickly to settle the custody of Haman’s estate, his position, and the royal signet ring.
According to ancient custom, traitors and other enemies of the state would have their wealth confiscated by the state. Haman himself included this element in his plan, likely to remunerate the potential taxes lost with the elimination of the Jews (Esth. 3:9, 13; Berlin 41). Limiting the evidence to ancient historians aware of this practice in Persia, consider two examples. Herodotus reports a comparable story that King Darius I (521–486 BC) avenged the wrongful “destruction” of Mitrobates and his son by executing Oroetes (Satrap of Lydia), confiscating his estate and returning it to Susa (Histories 3.127–129).[4] Josephus published a letter from Cyrus II (559–529 BC) to the returning Jewish exiles under governor Zerubbabel, cautioning that any Jews who violate his “injunctions” for the rededication of the temple would be crucified and “their substance brought into the king’s treasury” (Antiquities11.17; Ezra 6:11).[5]
The second movement is the promotion of Mordecai to Haman’s role as “vizier.”[6] Interestingly, Herodotus recounts the promotion to “ruler of Cilicia” of a relatively unknown Persian figure named Xenagoras, for saving King Xerxes’ brother Masistes (Histories9.107.3). The event is comparable, but not exact, in that Mordecai was already known and honored by the King; further, Mordecai is elevated much higher (Esth. 3:1–2).
Wasting no time, on the second day of the feast (Esth. 7:2; 8:1), Mordecai receives the king’s signet ring previously entrusted to Haman (Esth. 3:10; 8:1). This is a significant move of power reversal. Apparently, the ring remained with Haman until his execution, but now it is entrusted to Mordecai (Esth. 8:2). This brief “ceremony” mirrors the problem-solution pattern of Haman’s edict, finalizing with Mordecai’s public recognition as the king’s “vizier” (8:15–17). Progress toward a resolution continues, and hope is taking root.
The Countermand of Haman’s Pogrom (Esth. 8:3–8)
Haman’s death has not annulled his pogrom, however, since it is irrevocable (Esth. 3:12). Clearly, the narrative has shifted in the right direction but not far enough. All is not lost, but all is not gained. Queen Esther and the newly minted vizier must continue to find a way to realize the hope of “relief and deliverance” the Jews desperately need as the pogrom looms nine months away (Esth. 8:9, 12). Will it come from “another place” (Esth. 4:14)—i.e., God—or will Esther and Mordecai sense the urgency to use their high position to preserve their fellow Jews (Kaiser, et al. 252)? Will these series of fortunate events continue?
Esther initiates a dialogue with King Ahasuerus by daringly asserting herself through humble intercession (fell to his feet, weeping, pleading; Esth. 8:3). Esther is still committed to her resolve, “if I perish, I perish” (Esth. 4:16), as her words were about a week’s time old (Esth. 4:16; 5:1, 4, 8, 9; 6:1; 7:1; 8:1). Esther’s gamble proved successful again (cf. Esth. 5:2), as the king grants her another unbidden audience by “holding out the golden scepter to Esther” (Esth. 8:4). This was a necessary risk, nothing had been truly gained since the pogrom was an unalterable law (Esth. 3:6). In the words of Cline, “How can an unalterable law be altered?” (Cline 393). This will prove to be the wrong question to ask. The king is asked to act one more time against Haman’s “plot” (Esth. 8:3). The solution does not prove to be straightforward.
The dialogue is framed as a short problem-solution interaction (Esth. 8:5–8). The king seems not to understand that Esther is representing more than just herself and Mordecai (Esth. 7:3–6). It is clear that Esther uses it all (her ancestry, her marriage, her favor) to her advantage as she seemly goes beyond court language. The rhetoric is loaded with this history in mind and she has not been afraid to use it on behalf of her people (Esth. 5:8; 7:3). She presumes on the “eye” of the king which she has gained (Esth. 8:5). Gaining the king’s favor has been her path from her time in the harem and nights with the king (Esth. 2:3, 12, 14), to gain his favor, love, and the crown (Esth. 2:15, 17).
The king himself will not personally “revoke” Haman’s letters with the plot against the Jews (Esth 8:5, 8). The word translated “revoke” (shūb), with a basic sense of “turn, return,” carries a wide spectrum of meanings in different contexts and relationships (BDB 996–99). This is apparent in Esther, such as a spatial “return” to a person (Esth. 2:14; 6:12; 7:8; 9:25), a verbal “response” (Esth. 4:13, 15), and politically to “reverse” a law (Esth. 8:5). The problem, again, is the law is an official irrevocable edict of the king (Esth. 8:8; cf. 1:9).
The king’s move is to delegate to another to write the law. Esther and Mordecai may use the authority of his name and his seal to “write” as they “please with regard to the Jews” (Esth. 8:8). Although a number of critical scholars balk at the supposed flippant way these irrevocable laws and their despotic use of power are enacted in Esther, the narrator’s historical knowledge of the inner workings of the Persian court commend good reason to believe its realism (Longman and Dillard 216, Archer 464–67, Kaiser, et al. 254). There is a subtle wrinkle in Ahasuerus’ words to Esther and Mordecai, as he seems to imply there is a way to countermand a law in such a way as to make it powerless (Esth. 8:10–12). They received authority, but not a map, highlighting that this could have gone as bad as it went well.
The Ascendency of Mordecai (Esth. 8:9–17)
Esther 8:9a timestamps Mordecai’s “self-defense law” to Sivan, twenty-third, 472/1 BC. This is about two months after Haman had enacted his pogrom on Nisan, the thirteenth of the same year (Esth. 3:7, 12). Looking forward, Mordecai only had about nine months to protect the Jews in Susa and across the Persian empire from genocide (Esth 8:12).
Esther 8:9b–14 reports how Mordecai commanded the king’s scribes to write the countermand “self-defense” edict and to dispatch its copies across the vast terrain of the Persian empire in a hurry. It is seemingly Mordecai’s first act of business. Little did Mordecai expect that when he exchanged messages with Esther to take her newfound position to protect the Jews (Esth. 4:11–17), he himself would also be God’s providential instrument. He looked for “relief and deliverance” from “another place,” even from Esther. This was perhaps an unexpected turn of events, as are all moments when God places “us” into the heart of the story.
Cline describes Mordecai’s countermand as “ingenious” (393). The king provided no direct advice but seemingly implied there was a loophole. Mordecai, then, read between the lines of power and “effectively” annulled it. Seemingly, he concluded that if a law cannot be revoked, it can be countermanded. The narrative mirrors Haman’s enactment of his pogrom (Esth. 3:12–15; 8:9b–14).[7] Mordecai’s decree is a revised duplicate of Haman’s original, but with significant differences. He adds the permission of the Jews to defend themselves with lethal force, even permitting them to plunder their aggressor’s goods (Esth. 8:11). Again, there has been movement but no final resolution. Two Persian laws exist, one which allows the Persians to attack the Jews, and another authorizing the Jews to protect themselves.
This new decree is sent out by “couriers, mounted on their swift horses that were used in the king’s service…” (Esth. 8: 10, 14). There was a courier road system established by Darius I, known as the “Royal Road” which extended from Susa to Sardis in the west (Yaumachi 1:343). On average, a route of 1,700 miles could be covered by the average person in ninety days (19 miles a day), but royal couriers (rākibum) could cover the same mileage in a week (243 miles a day) as they traded horses and rode through the night (Herodotus, Histories, 8.98; 5.52–53). Additionally, the “swift horses” (rékesh) are specialized horses used in the king’s royal dispatch systems (1 Kings 4:28; Mic. 1:13; BDB 940). In the course of about nine months (Sivan to Adar), these riders would carry multiple copies of the decree, likely engraved clay tablets, from Susa to all the provinces from India to Ethiopia.
The narrative quickly fades and opens to the public presentation of Mordecai in Susa, the capital, arrayed as a member of the royal court (fine royal garments, a great golden crown; Esth. 8:15). This is quite a turn of events for what initially seemed to be a “tag along” figure to his adoptive daughter. Only through a series of fortunate events, interwoven with despair, had he come to this point as the “invisible” hand of God protected his people in the diaspora of Persia. Mordecai’s presentation to the public is likely the first sign to the Jewish community in Susa that things in Persia have truly changed in their favor (Esth. 8:17).
What had become his ascendency story, quickly became the cause of the city of Susa to rejoice; but now more importantly this transition of power gifted the Jewish people four things: light, gladness, joy, and honor (Esth. 8:16). Additionally, the favor now given to Mordecai and his people led many citizens of Persia to “declared” (or “professed”) “themselves Jews” as well (Esth. 8:17). The form (miteyahadim) is unique in the Hebrew Bible. It is not clear if this is a “conversion” to Jewish beliefs, customs, or practices; or, pragmatically, aligning with the Jews for advantage (Berlin, 80; Mangano 110). Berlin is right, however, “there was no middle ground” (80). Much had been gained, but things still wait to play out. The glow of hope is on the horizon.
Finally, there is some “unfinished business” to round out this discussion. Since ancient rabbinic times, it has been suggested that the tension between Haman, the Agagite (Esth. 3:1), and the Jews in Persia materialized an extended hostility between God and the Amalekites (Webb 126–28). Exodus 17:14b reads, “that I will utterly blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven.” The notation that Haman is a descendent of Agag, king of the Amalekites (1 Sam. 15:8), seems to lend support to this view, though other possibilities may exist. In parody to the various nations with long-held grudges against Israel (Ammon, Edom, Moab, etc.; Ezek. 25:1–17), Mordecai seemingly only inflames Haman’s preexisting hostility toward all the Jews. This ancient tension seems like a likely explanation for the roots of Haman’s anti-Semitism.
Again, what are the odds that the chief antagonist and architect for the genocide was a descendant of Agag, king of the Amalekites the enemies of God (Deut. 25:17–18)? What are the odds, that the man who replaces him is Mordecai, a descendant from the same clan of King Saul (Esth. 2:5; 1 Sam. 9:1–2)? The demise of Haman and the ascendency of Mordecai seem to play out as part of God’s continued protection of Israel even if they are in Persia (Gen. 12:3).
ILLUSTRATIONS
The Hiddenness of God
In the original Quantum Leap series (1989–1993), a fictional Dr. Samuel Beckett created the technology to time travel within his own lifetime. The opening narrator to the show says Beckett was
driven by an unknown force to change history for the better… leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong…[8]
It was the first show I watched where a Sci-Fi show made God a subtle but hidden main character, who was significantly aligned with Beckett’s desire to do good. Even in the reboot, they raised the potential of God again,
Something supernatural is not entirely impossible. Sam Beckett believed that God was guiding the quantum accelerator.[9]
There are times in our lives when all we know is that God is doing something in our lives, but we must live in faithful service to God with the hope that we may one day learn what that “something” is.
The Corruption of Power
Although humanity was created to subdue the earth and have dominion over it for good (Gen. 1:28), history is replete of individuals amassing and abusing their power. These regimes have brought tremendous human evil into the world. Clay Jones outlines a short but appalling list (49–56):
Russia’s starving to death of 5–7 million people to quell an uprising of Ukrainians between 1932–1933;
Nazi Germany’s genocide of 6 million Jews and an equal amount of Poles, Ukrainians, Russians, Gypsies, and the handicapped;
in December 1937, 300,000 people were raped, tortured, and murdered by the Japanese army in an event known as “The Rape of Nanking”;
Mao Tse-tung (d. 1976) is known to have buried alive 46,000 scholars in China;
since 1973, the legal system of the United States has permitted us and our neighbors to put to death more than 58 million babies through abortion.
Esther 8 reminds us of the importance to use opportunities of power to protect, with force if necessary, the vulnerable against evil forces (Creach 96).[10]
APPLICATIONS
Timeless Applications
First, Let us pray for our civic and religious leaders “that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way” (1 Tim. 2:2). Imperfect people of God can be used as part of God’s sovereign economy over world affairs. The portrayals of Esther and Mordecai are not always flattering; in fact, they are very compromising.
Esther works her way through the harem to win the king’s favor. Mordecai is an arrogant man, whose spite likely accelerated Haman’s attack on the Jews. Nevertheless, they accepted that God is working through their rise to the royal court and used their opportunity to be God’s instruments to protect his people (Esth. 4:14; 8:1–17).
Second, let us live with confidence that God intervenes in our lives. Divine providence is purposeful intervention. A definition of providence defined by the “natural law” of deism is a dead end, as it fails to account for the supernatural nature of an interventional God. Providence is by definition a supernatural manipulation of the human story to accomplish God’s will.
The ascendency of Mordecai and the “self-defense” law of Esther 8 do not happen without a series of seemingly disconnected events orchestrated together for the common good of the diaspora Jews. Perhaps, providence may be described as a “nudge” (Philm. 15), but that nudge is the result of supernatural intervention.
Timely Applications
First, let us embrace the “exile” and “pilgrim” components of our faith. We do not have a border-bound nation as such, we are pilgrims and our citizenship is in heaven (1 Pet. 1:1, 17; 2:11). Most commentaries highlight the secular nature of Esther and the Jews in Persia, and yet, it is rich with faith, divine providence, divine faithfulness, and feasting and fasting. Western Christians are facing the overt secularization of the culture and our youth. Every generation needs to learn how to navigate the societies of our birth with love and godly concern to share the gospel, with the knowledge that our citizenship lies in the heavens (Phil. 3:20).
Second, let us use wisdom and prayerful patience when deciding when to use force to protect the vulnerable. Not every issue is genocide, nor is every social figure a Haman. As “social justice” issues reemerge as a cultural touchstone in the United States, the church must take on its challenge with wisdom, awareness of the issues, and humble approaches that empower every Christian with the confidence to speak truthfully and to act graciously against injustice in our communities.
Christians must not only distinguish between the obligations owed to the government and to God (Matt. 22:21) but also distinguish between what is just and unjust (Rom. 12:1–2). Martin Luther King, Jr., following Augustine, rightly observed, “an unjust law is no law at all” (lex iniusta non est lex).[11] God’s people must not fall prey to the fallacy, “it’s the law of the land,” when we have a higher law, “we must obey God rather than man” (Acts 5:29).
ENDNOTES
The “decree” and “edict” which Haman organized to “destroy” the Jews and seize their wealth is often described as an ancient pogrom. A pogrom is “an organized massacre” and is particularly associated with the historical persecution of the Jews. For the purpose of this study, the term will be used alongside genocide.
The story reflected in Esther is unique in that it is the only canonical text which provides information about the Jews between the return under Zerubbabel (538 B.C.) and Ezra (458 B.C.). The Jews living among the “127 provinces” represent the third group of Jews, those who did not return with Zerubbabel (Provan, Long, and Longman 295).
David Allan Hubbard in his chapter on Esther notes, “Coincidences in Esther are the fingerprints of God’s hand at work” (LaSor, Hubbard, and Bush 538).
This follows A. D. Godley’s translation of Herodotus, Histories.
This follows William Whiston’s translation of Josephus, Antiquities.
The type of figure Haman held described as being “advanced” and a throne “set” “above all of the officials with him” (Esth. 3:1–2), has given cause to describe him as the king’s vizier, or something along the lines of a Prime Minister. This is the role Mordecai now holds. A cuneiform tablet in Borsippa mentions the name Marduka, a financial official of King Xerxes I (cf. Ahasuerus), which is an Akkadian equivalent to Mordecai. Although it cannot be proved to be Esther’s Mordecai, the “coincidence, if only that, is very interesting” (Báez-Camargo 137).
The parallels: the timestamp, the date for the law, the language of the edict, the use of the king’s scribes, the same recipients (satraps and governors), provincial languages and scripts, in the name of the king, the use of the king’s signet ring (with its unique crest), and dispatched by couriers.
Words from the season one prologue of the original Quantum Leap series.
Quote from the reboot season 1, episode 7, “O Ye of Little Faith.”
Jerome F. D. Creach addresses the symbolic theology of God warring against “the enemies of God” (Sodom, Egypt, Amalek) while largely dismissing the historical reliability of Esther. Immaterial to his approach is his astute observation that the legacy of human evil “makes understandable other parts of the Bible that seem to permit violence in defense of the powerless and vulnerable” (96).
Archer, Gleason L. A Survey of Old Testament Introduction. 3rd edition. Chicago: Moody, 1994.
Arnold, Bill T., and Bryan E. Beyer. Encountering the Old Testament: A Christian Survey. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1999.
Báez-Camargo, Gonzalo. Archaeological Commentary on the Bible. Garden City: Doubleday, 1984.
Berlin, Adele. Esther. The JPS Bible Commentary. Edited by Nahum M. Sarna. Philadelphia, PA: Jewish Publication Society, 2001. Logos electronic edition.
(BDB) Brown, Francis, Samuel Rolles Driver, and Charles Augustus Briggs. Enhanced Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977. Logos electronic edition.
Cline, David J. A. “Esther.” Pages 387–94 in Harper’s Bible Commentary. Edited by James L. Mays. New York: Harper, 1988.
Creach, Jerome F. D. Violence in Scripture. Interpretation. Edited by Patrick D. Miller. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2013. Kindle edition.
Herodotus. The Histories. Trans. by A. D. Godley. Ed. A. D. Godley. Medford, MA: Harvard University Press, 1920. Logos electronic edition.
Jones, Clay. Why Does God Allow Evil? Compelling Answers for Life’s Toughest Questions. Eugene: Harvest House, 2017. Kindle edition.
Josephus, Flavius. The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged. Trans. William Whiston. Peabody: Hendrickson, 1987. Logos electronic edition.
Kaiser, Walter C., Jr., Peter H. Davids, F. F. Bruce, and Manfred T. Brauch. Hard Sayings of the Bible. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1996.
LaSor, William Sanford, David Allan Hubbard, and Frederic William Bush. Old Testament Survey: The Message, Form, and Background of the Old Testament. 2nd edition. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996.
Longman, Tremper, III., and Raymond B. Dillard. An Introduction to the Old Testament. 2nd Edition. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2006.
Mangano, Mark. Esther and Daniel. CPNIVC. Edited by Terry Briley and Paul Kissling. Joplin: College Press, 2001.
Provan, Ian, V. Phillips Long, Tremper Longman, III. A Biblical History of Israel. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2003.
Webb, Barry G. Five Festal Garments: Christian Reflections on the Song of Songs, Ruth, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes and Esther. New Studies in Biblical Theology. Edited by D. A. Carson. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2000.
Yamauchi, Edwin M. “Communications and Messengers.” Pages 337–57 in vol. 1 of Dictionary of Daily Life in Biblical and Post-Biblical Antiquity. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2014–2016.
Genesis is the wellspring of all biblical thought and serves as the foundation for any well-rounded biblical worldview. Genesis reports the rise of nations and ethnicities is the result of God’s judgment on human rebellion. Is it myth or history?
Genesis as Theological Literature
First, Genesis is written in historical prose. It recounts in succession fashion early human stories, their consequences, and God’s responses. Genesis has a literary genre (historical prose), and it is theological because God is the central figure of the book.
Moreover, it is important to understand God also has inspired the form of his word. God selected the genre (i.e., form) as well as the words to be the vehicles of his word and message. Knowing this and following the scripture’s lead will help us to read the Bible closer to how God intended to experience its transforming and soul-searching power (Romans 12:1-2; Hebrews 4:12-13).
Following basic genre guidelines will help us to identify what to expect when reading the book to, therefore, understand God’s intent; discouraging a subjective, privatized, understanding of God’s word. As Paul writes, “For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope” (English Standard Version).[1]
God has spoken variously: “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son…” (Hebrews 1:1-2). This “many ways” phrase (polytropōs) indicates diversity. Our job as readers is to recognize this literary diversity and read scripture accordingly.
There are challenges to reading this ancient historical narrative. One challenge is its age because it is “older than most books we read… [and] the Bible’s antiquity provides a challenge to our understanding.”[2] We are separated by some two-and-a-half thousand years before we were born. Also, narratives often “make their points indirectly,” so we must read much larger portions of the book to improve our grasp of the book.[3] For example, how many Bible reading plans have died at the genealogies? Why? It is not part of our modern story reading expectations, which means such reports, lists, or ancient story forms are often lost on us.
Genesis as Theological History
Second, Genesis tells us a tremendous amount about God and about the human story. But is all of it historical? Did it happen? These are serious questions asked in our secular and skeptical world. Unfortunately, even Bible scholars are counted among the skeptics.
The 2017 faith-based documentary, Is Genesis History?, argued that the historical narrative of Genesis 1–11 happened.[4] Sadly, Bible professors of Wheaton College reacted negatively to the film’s showing on their campus, a majority of whom are reportedly theistic evolutionists who believe that God used evolutionary processes to produce all the variety of organic life today.[5] This presumption calls into question the historicity of the Adam and Eve story and leads to shattering confidence in the historicity of the rest of the stories relegating them to mere theological myth.
There are clues in Genesis that it is theological history. For example, Genesis uses the phrase “these are the generations” or “this is the history” (toledoth) eleven times to mark historical events, genealogies, or literary movements (2:4; 5:1; 6:9; 10:1; 11:10, 27; 25:12, 19; 36:1, 9; 37:2). Except for Genesis 2:4, ten references include a personal name to mark narrative’s events, much like in later times when events are timestamped to the year of a historical person’s reign (Jeremiah 1:1–2; Daniel 1:1; Luke 3:1–3). I believe this literary pattern asks the readers to have a historical expectation.
Unfortunately, a school of skeptical and naturalistic archaeologists (i.e., the supernatural does not exist) has been very successful in pushing their agenda that Genesis is unreliable history. To be clear, archaeology is not my field of training, but I have been reading about these issues for some time.
There are a few important counterpoints to consider: (a) the ancient world is vastly lost to us moderns due to site plundering, destructive wars and occupation, and natural erosion or burial; (b) many early discoveries were not properly cataloged, obtained, lack translation, lack proper chain of custody; (c) there are many areas that have not been excavated due to politics or lack of funding; and yet (d) what is available to us has provided two valuable interpretation tools: the contemporary setting and context to set the biblical narratives against.[6]
The field of archaeology, nevertheless, provides limited and revisableinterpretations of locations, texts, and artifacts, which often illuminate the realism and narratives we read. Genesis is consistent with what we know of the ancient world.
Finally, Genesis affirms the possibility of miracles. The argument is simple: “if God exists, then miracles are possible.”[7] One of the main problems with reading the Bible is found in the first sentence of Genesis: “In the beginning God…” If the reader keeps the door open to the existence of God, then the miraculous events throughout the book that seem improbable (creation from nothing, a global flood, confusion of languages) are quite possible or probable. The naturalist, on the other hand, keeps the door tightly shut against such possibilities.[8] Yet, Genesis presumes the existence of a God.
The Rise of Nations and Ethnicities
Third, Paul summarizes dozens of passages about God’s hand in the human story:
And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place… (Acts 17:28)
Every “nation” (ethnos) of humanity is derived from “one” (heis) person.
The nations go back to one historical human figure: Adam through Noah (Genesis 10:1). This biblical truth, tied to the historical creation of humankind (Adam and Eve) made in the image of God, is the foundation for understanding the unity, value, and indivisibility of the human race. There is no basis found for teaching prejudice toward others based on the color of one’s skin (there is no curse of Ham, Genesis 9:25). Instead, we are all descendants of the same person.
The rise of nations and ethnicities begins with the literary toledoth key in Genesis 10:1. The “criteria of division” used are genealogical, regional, and political divines of various relevant nations which interacted with Israel. A key point is, that “ancient peoples were more concerned with distinctions based on nationality, linguistics and ethnicity.”[9] By listing the personal names of the patriarchs (Noah, Shem, Ham, Japheth), the names of their descendants as the names of political nations, and noting their linguistic differences (10:5, 20, 31), we are to understand a big picture development of early human history. All of these nations and languages are known to this day.
“The Nations of Genesis 10,” Nelson’s Map Collection[10]
The snapshots of the family of Noah in Genesis 10 prepare us to understand the “Tower of Babel” story in Genesis 11:1–9. To this point, Genesis connects the human story from one act of uncontrolled rebellion and sinful pride to another. Babel, the ancient Mesopotamian city founded by Nimrod (10:6–10), was the epicenter of a human endeavor to build a community around a tower to the heavens (11:1–5). Today, it is well documented that in ancient Mesopotamia such pagan temples existed. These are known as ziggurats, three-to-seven-tiered mountain-shaped tower structures.
Babylon, the later name of Babel, means “gate of god” and was known for its ziggurat in the center of the court of the temple of the pagan deity Marduk.[11] As Arnold and Beyer point out, “with a single international language and advanced building technology, humanity was unified in rebellion.”[12] In a dramatic ironic twist, God made the “gate of god” the source of their confusion and dispersed humanity into the nations and ethnicities previously mentioned in Genesis 10 (11:6–9). These nations would eventually have historical interactions with the nation of Israel.
Conclusion
Genesis recounts the historical rise of nations and ethnicities. First, there are good reasons to believe that Genesis was intended to be read historically and that the events it reports did happen even if reported in stereotyped ways. Second, reading Genesis reveals our presuppositions about miracles, evolution, and archaeological certainty. If God exists, the epic events recorded in Genesis are possible. Finally, the rise of nations and ethnicities emerged as a consequence of human rebellion; thus, amid the confusion of languages, arose ancient nations and ethnicities from which we all descend.
Endnotes
Unless otherwise noted all Bible quotations are from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016).
Tremper Longman, III, Making Sense of the Old Testament: Three Crucial Questions (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2006), 19–20.
William W. Klein, Craig L. Blomberg, and Robert L. Hubbard, Jr., Introduction to Biblical Interpretation, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2017), 424.
See, Edwin M. Yamauchi, “The Greek Words in Daniel in the Light of Greek Influence in the Near East,” in New Perspectives on the Old Testament, ed. J. Barton Payne (Waco, TX: Word, 1970), H. Darrell Lance, The Old Testament and the Archaeologist, Guides to Biblical Scholarship: Old Testament, ed. Gene M. Tucker (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress, 1981); Josh McDowell and Sean McDowell, Evidence that Demands a Verdict: Life-Changing Truth for a Skeptical World (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 2017).
Norman L. Geisler and Ronald M. Brooks, When Skeptics Ask: A Handbook on Christian Evidences, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2013), 71.
Even some so-called supernaturalists, like John Clayton, have trouble with the miraculous components of these early Genesis stories cf. Does God Exist? 49.3 (2022).
John H. Walton and Victor H. Matthews, IVP Bible Background Commentary: Genesis-Deuteronomy (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1997), 31.
“The Nations of Genesis 10,” Nelson’s Map Collection, Logos electronic ed. (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1997).
“Babylon,” Archaeological Encyclopedia of the Holy Land, electronic ed., eds. Avraham Negev and Shimon Gibson (New York: Prentice-Hall, 1990).
Bill T. Arnold and Bruan E. Beyer, Encountering the Old Testament: A Christian Survey (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Academic, 1999), 86.
When someone pursues you and attempts to take your life, my lord’s life will be tucked safely in the place where the Lord your God protects the living. However, He will fling away your enemies’ lives like stones from a sling. (1 Samuel 25:29 Christian Standard Bible)
Occasionally as I am going to bed, especially when it is cold, I like to get the covers all tucked in on my sides. That reminds me of when my mom would tuck me into bed also, giving me a kiss good night. I remember as a young child, calling for my mom, “come tuck me in!” if she hadn’t done so already.
While studying for this topic, I found this scripture, our text for today in 1 Samuel. The CSB version was about the only version which uses the word “tucked.” All other versions use bound, as in “bound in the bundle of life” (King James Version), or “bound in the bundle of the living in the care of the LORD your God” (English Standard Version). Bound, meaning as you would tie a bundle of twigs or some other item together. They are tied securely.
Here we can visualize the concept of security. As one who is tucked into bed by their mother. The child feels secure and safe. There is the feeling and awareness they are loved. Knowing there will be no harm to them.
There’s a story I read once of a mother hen found in the rubble of a burned-down chicken coop. Underneath her wings, and close to her breast, were her little chicks safely tucked away. A precious story and a good example of being tucked in safe and secure from harm’s way.
We can learn from this scripture and these examples, when we have anxiety and pressures from the world, we can be tucked away in the safety of our Lord. We can obtain this security through prayer by asking God “come tuck me in”. Be assured you can be safe in the arms of the Lord.
Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. (Isaiah 41:10 ESV)
Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment. (John 7:24)
Last year I drove kindergarteners to a pumpkin patch. I walked around looking at all the different kinds of pumpkins they had. There were so many different colors of pumpkins, and different sizes and shapes. It amazed me. I was told by an attendant that this ugly gray one makes the best-flavored pumpkin pie.
This revealed to me you can’t judge a pumpkin by how it looks on the outside. It’s what is inside that counts. Also, this principle applies to a lot of other things, such as, you can’t judge a book by its cover or people.
In 1 Samuel 16, for example, we read of the anointing of King David. The Lord told Samuel to go to the house of Jesse. For he said,
I have provided for myself a king among his sons. (1 Samuel 16:1b)
After Jesse and his first son came to the place where Samuel had invited them, Samuel thought surely this son will be the one. But the Lord said to Samuel,
Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart. (1 Samuel 16:7)
There were 7 sons who passed before Samuel, then he asked Jesse “Are there any more sons?” Yes, Jesse said, “he is out keeping the sheep.” Samuel requested to have him brought to him.
David was not the likely one to be chosen in the eyes of Samuel and Jesse. He was the youngest, the baby of the family. He was more likely the smallest of all his brothers, he was a sheep herder. But the Lord chose David. The Lord knew his heart.
We shouldn’t choose or judge someone by their size, by what they wear, or by the color of their eyes, hair, or skin. We shouldn’t judge by what kind of facial expression they have. They might be in deep thought from bad news or a memory.
So like those many different pumpkins, we should be careful how we choose and judge. You might just want to pick the ugly gnarly pumpkin. It might be the best one on the inside.