What’s interesting about chapter three is its beginning phrase, “After these things.” What things? After Mordecai disclosed the plot to assassinate King Ahasuerus, Haman was promoted. We aren’t told why, but his introduction is key to understanding what follows. Being a descendant of Agag, king of the Amalekites, tells us about the animosity that is to come. King Saul was to have killed all the Amalekites, but he spared Agag only for Samuel to finish the deed (1 Sam. 15). Earlier, Mordecai’s lineage ties him directly to King Saul (Esth. 2:5), so this is like a rematch of Saul and Agag through their descendants. A knowledge of Scripture tells us who the victor will be, because God had said that he would see to it that the Amalekites would be blotted out (Deut. 25:17–18).
While everyone is drooling over Haman’s exaltation, Mordecai does nothing of the sort. As far back as Late Antiquity, the reason given for his refusal is religious. He won’t kneel to flesh and blood. One wonders if there weren’t also political or personal motives involved. Mordecai told those who inquired that he was a Jew, which has led to the conclusion that his refusal was on religious grounds. Persian religion at the time was based on the belief in a god of light, Ahura Mazda, and a god of darkness, Angra Mainyu, who were constantly at odds with each other. It’s called Zoroastrianism, named after the prophet Zarathushtra, dating to the second millennium BC. Key to this religion is the ideal of thinking good thoughts, speaking good words, and doing good deeds. This is important because it’s precisely a story about good and evil.
By the time of these events, Esther would have been queen for five years. The month of Nisan is April, and the month of Nadar is March, so for a whole year, this decree will be issued and the Jews will have this timeframe to contemplate the date of their deaths. When Ahasuerus gives Haman his ring, he has essentially given him carte blanche to do as he pleases. He now has royal power with which to act. The king and Haman drink, the city of Susa is confounded, and the Jews are terrified.
Racism is something taught; it’s not something we are born with. Haman undoubtedly heard from childhood how he is a descendant of a king; a king whom the Jews put to death and whose lineage they tried to destroy. Now, he has grounds on which to finish the work of his forebearers who wanted to obliterate the Jews when they left Egypt. He’s in the prime position to make it happen, and Mordecai and the “rules” of the Jews give him his justification to persuade the king to allow it.
In Scripture, we observe Jesus behaving kindly towards people that his own race hated—the Samaritans. He tells the parable of the Good Samaritan, he speaks with the Samaritan woman at the well, and he restrains his disciples when they want him to rain hellfire and brimstone on a Samaritan village. Even the book of Romans is a book about racial reconciliation. The Jews were expelled from Rome for several years. When the Caesar who issued such an edict died, another took his place and allowed them to return. They saw their Gentile brothers and sisters leading the church in their absence, and they wanted to run things since they had returned. It turns into a battle between races and their different traditions. Paul wrote to relieve that tension. To the Galatians, he wrote that there is neither Jew nor Greek, so when you read the New Testament, the issue of racial bigotry is something even the church dealt with.
At every turn in Scripture, especially the New Testament, there is an appeal to end racial bigotry. The Jews called non-Jews Gentiles. The Romans and Greeks called those who were not of their own race “barbarians.” Every group believes itself superior to others. Why speak about racism? Aren’t we Christians supposed to be beyond that? We should, and I hope we are, but we also have to keep in mind that though we may not have incurred racism, some of our brethren have.
My longtime mentor, Sellers Crain, told me a disturbing story about his early days in ministry. He was preaching at a congregation in Louisiana when he noticed that most of the men were missing on a particular Sunday near the beginning of the services. He’d seen them arrive, but they were now absent. He began looking for them when he saw that most of them were outside around a car. He went out to see what was happening and noticed that many of the men had surrounded a car containing a family. What made this particularly notable was that the family wasn’t white, but black. After hearing some of the chatter among the congregation’s men, he disbursed the crowd, telling them that he’d handle it. When the frightened father rolled down his window, Sellers had to say to them, much to his chagrin, that the men wouldn’t allow the family to join them in worship. He informed them that there was a congregation of black saints. The father thanked him, and then they drove off. Sellers told me how much this bothered him and how it almost led him to quit the ministry. He learned that many of those men were members of the Ku Klux Klan and that their actions were motivated by racial bigotry, these having been the days of the Civil Rights Movement.
Sometimes there are things we do that we may not think are racist, but to others they may be. Then again, some people can be so hyper-sensitive that you don’t know what’s acceptable and what’s not. For example, among my tribal family, we often refer to ourselves as Indians. That’s the nomenclature used for a long time to describe native peoples. Even many tribal elders that I know use that term to speak of our people. Yet, others find that term offensive. It can be hard to know what to do, so on both sides, I believe it’s necessary to extend grace. Growing up, I’ve often been asked what I am. I don’t take offense to it, but others do. I see it as an opportunity to talk about my Choctaw family and ancestors. I’ve been asked about mascots and Halloween costumes. Again, a variety of opinions exist. There’s only one time that I’ve ever felt angered by what someone said. It was a much older white man who, when he learned that I was going to give a talk about Native American History, asked what they ever contributed. It was the way he asked it, but he later came and apologized, so I gave him the grace I would have wanted if I realized that I might have upset someone.
A Minister's Study 