“Who knows, but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this” [Esther 4:14].
The Banquet of Esther and Ahasuerus, by Jan Victors, 1640s.
The story of Esther in the Old Testament is a rich mine for reflection themes. Of special interest is her courage in the face of danger.
Acting with courage and integrity is a theme that ties Esther to the Catholic laity who not only numerically constitute the Church, but who, in the twenty-first century, are well educated, have access to the internet, and subscribe to such universal values as fundamental human dignity, gender-equality, justice, freedom of speech and freedom of conscience.
Chosen from a pageant of beautiful women, Esther replaced Queen Vashti who, having chosen dignity over obedience, was banished by the Persian King for refusing to parade herself before a group of drunken male guests at a palace banquet. Esther was Jewish, raised an orphan by her uncle Mordecai, a palace chancery officer, by whose instructions she had kept her ancestry secret.
Mordecai had saved the king from assassination, an event duly recorded in the Book of Chronicles. In the king’s neglect to reward someone who served him so well, we also see negligent forgetfulness as a sad commentary on social behaviour, especially in both our biological family and our spiritual family – the cell group, the small Christian community of whatever name or covenantal relationship, the religious order, the Church.
Meanwhile, Mordecai the Jew had infuriated Haman – now elevated to prime minister’s rank – for refusing to bow and prostrate before him, for it would be to worship a mere man. Outraged, Haman decided not only to kill Mordecai, but to wipe out the entire Jewish race from the kingdom. Knowing what to say to get the king’s support, his report spoke of a race of people living apart from others, keeping its own laws and refusing to keep the king’s, thus behaving clearly against the king’s interest, and so should be exterminated. Cleverly presented, such a tale easily appeals to the seeming “interest” of any “foolish” (translated as unthinking, non–discerning, interest–driven) leader. Authorised by the king, Haman sent a letter to all provincial governors with orders to “destroy, slaughter and annihilate all the Jews, young and old” and to seize their properties.
Here is a lesson of immense proportion for the faith community of today. Ahasuerus the king governed by whim rather than by wisdom. Unlimited power, exercised without wisdom, willing to listen only to things that pleased him, proved to be a very dangerous thing. A ruler like that often enjoys being pandered up to, and knows no better even when made use of by conniving “politicians” who play their cards well in saying things he likes to hear, while tough but good advice that is good for him is shunned. It is a perennial tragedy in human affairs, and more acutely so in religious affairs, that when too much power is given to any one person, it corrupts. Power is potentially corrosive. Like Solomon of old, praying for wisdom is far and away the singular most urgent task of leaders of any kind in the Church.
On learning of the evil plot of racial annihilation, Mordecai did two important things. Like the king of Nineveh, he “tore his garments and put on sackcloth and ashes.” Then, he sent words to Esther to urge her to appeal to the king. But she was afraid, for the law said anyone who approached the king in the inner court without being summoned would be punished by death. As she equivocated, Mordecai sent her this urgent message: “Who knows? Perhaps you have come to the throne for just such a time as this”[Esther 4:14].
Too often, we think heroes are naturally fearless and courageous people. The reality is, courage involves being rightly afraid of the situation in which one finds oneself and still act anyway, to do what is right. And so Esther, despite her legitimate fear, sent this famous reply to Mordecai:
Go and assemble all the Jews now in Susa and fast for me. Do not eat or drink day or night for three days. For my part, I and my maids will keep the same fast, after which I shall go to the king in spite of the law; and if I perish, I perish [Esther 4:15-17].
Earlier this month, our friend and colleague, Fr. Emmanuel Katongole (EK) of Uganda, now the professor-chair of the Center for Reconciliation at Duke University, hosted a gathering of key Christian Church of different denominations and NGO leaders in the East African region to reflect on Christian leadership. Choosing the theme kairos, a Greek word for the fullness of time, a time for special things to happen, EK keyed into a kairos moment in Queen Esther’s life, that required of her a decision to act, or to let it pass. Placed before these leaders was the same challenge put to Esther: “Who knows, but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this.” Esther did take the challenge, and despite her very weak position before the king, sought an audience with him at the risk of her own life. Like Esther, these African leaders do have some influence in their countries. EK invited them all to consider the time in which they live and the influence they have, and act to bring about peace and justice in the region. He challenged them to actualise the kairos moment, to willingly act in faithfulness and obedience to God’s Spirit, even if they perish! That was a bold call, deserving of a brave response.
In the story of Esther, she did summon up courage to do the right thing and actualised the kairos moment. Combining beauty with wisdom, Esther did not choose direct confrontation. Instead, she chose a tactful, diplomatic approach and won over the king’s support in a life-and-death battle. (Read all about it in Esther 5-8.) Awakened to the truth, the king authorised immediate actions to save the Jews and put Haman to death. To this day, the Jewish Purim festival is celebrated in praise of God and in honour of her.
Today, more than ever, the Catholic laity are called to speak up in the face of evil in society and in the Church. “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing,” wrote Edmund Burke. More profoundly, Martin Luther King, Jr. said: “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about the things that matter.” Or, as Elie Wiesel puts it, “The opposite of life is not death, but indifference.” Like Esther, the laity must grapple with the conviction that to keep silent is to be complicit in the evils that happen around us, and that bad things are allowed to happen because good people keep silent.
Long has the reigning mentality within the faith community been one of “don’t rock the boat,” “mind our own business,” “go to Mass and go home”. A perfect description of a “dead” community, don’t you think? Where are the signs of the Holy Spirit being active in the community? Where does one see any indication of the movement of grace in Catholic life? Like Esther, we do have some influence but are hesitant to use it. Yet, unlike Esther, we don’t have laws in the Church that say we should die if we spoke up. More importantly, unlike Esther, we do have a piece of law that says we have the right and the duty to speak up. Concerning the laity, Canon 212, paragraph 3 of the 1983 Code of Canon Law provides clearly:
They have the right, indeed at times the duty, in keeping with their knowledge, competence and position, to manifest to the sacred Pastors their views on matters which concern the good of the Church. They have the right also to make their views known to others of Christ’s faithful, but in doing so they must always respect the integrity of faith and morals, show due reverence to the Pastors, and take into account both the common good and the dignity of individuals.
From our perspective, Esther speaks powerfully to the choices that we make in life. The spirit of Esther is captured in these famous words: “If I perish, I perish.” Her story is Word of God for our instructions, as Scripture calls all Christians to be courageous. But apart from courage, we do need great honesty and willingness to lay issues out on the table. Vision, in our view, is not that which is there, but that which could be. What are the important issues in the faith community on which the laity should make their voices heard? “Who knows, but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” Would the Catholic laity find inspiration in this famous woman from the Old Testament? Would you?
Copyright © Dr. Jeffrey & Angie Goh, January 2010.
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