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Context No. 1041 of 4322 · Esther (Greek)

Context · Reflection

Esther (Greek) 8:1-6: in context

1On that day, King Ahasuerus gave to Esther all that belonged to Haman the slanderer. The king called Mordecai, for Esther had told that he was related to her. 2The king took the ring which he had taken away from Haman and gave it to Mordecai. Esther appointed Mordecai over all that had been Haman’s. 3She spoke yet again to the king, and fell at his feet, and implored him to undo Haman’s mischief and all that he had done against the Jews. 4Then the king extended the golden sceptre to Esther; and Esther arose to stand near the king. 5Esther said, “If it seems good to you, and I have found favor in your sight, let an order be sent that the letters sent by Haman may be reversed—letters that were written for the destruction of the Jews who are in your kingdom. 6For how could I see the affliction of my people, and how could I survive the destruction of my kindred?”

Haman is dead, his plot exposed, and the king gives Esther his estate and makes Mordecai his new second-in-command. But the danger is not over. The decree Haman engineered, ordering the slaughter of the Jews throughout the empire, is still law and cannot simply be canceled. So Esther goes back to the king, falls at his feet weeping, and pleads with him to undo the evil scheme against her people. When the king extends the golden scepter, she rises and makes her case, and her reason is a cry from the heart: how can I bear to see the disaster that is coming on my people; how can I endure to watch the destruction of my kindred?

Esther has already saved herself. She is queen, in the king's favor, her enemy destroyed, her cousin promoted; by any measure of personal safety she is fine. And yet she cannot rest, because her people are still under sentence of death. That is the heart of intercession: she throws herself down again, risking the king's displeasure a second time, not for her own sake but because she cannot bear to watch her people perish while she is safe. How can I endure to see the destruction of my kindred, she asks, and the question exposes a love that will not enjoy its own rescue while others are still in danger. She could have taken her security and looked away; instead she keeps pleading. It is a portrait of the intercessor who identifies so completely with the endangered that their peril becomes unbearable to her, and it points toward the greater Intercessor who would not stay safe in heaven while his people were under condemnation. Real love cannot be at ease alone.

Am I content to enjoy my own safety while people I could plead for are still in danger, or does their peril, like Esther's people's, become something I cannot bear to watch in silence?

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