ESTHER'S VENTURE

'Again Esther spake unto Hatach, and gave him commandment unto

Mordecai: 11. All the king's servants, and the people of the king's

provinces, do know, that whosoever, whether man or woman, shall come

unto the king into the inner court, who is not called, there is one

law of his to put him to death, except such to whom the king shall

hold out the golden sceptre, that he may live: but I have not been

called to come in unto the king these thirty days. 12. And they told

to Mordecai Esther's words. 13. Then Mordecai commanded to answer

Esther, Think not with thyself that thou shalt escape in the king's

house, more than all the Jews. 14. For if thou altogether holdest thy

peace at this time, then shall there enlargement and deliverance arise

to the Jews from another place; but thou and thy father's house shall

be destroyed: and who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for

such a time as this? 15. Then Esther bade them return Mordecai this

answer, 16. Go, gather together all the Jews that are present in

Shushan, and fast ye for me, and neither eat nor drink three days,

night or day: I also and my maidens will fast likewise; and so will I

go in unto the king, which is not according to the law: and if I

perish, I perish. 17. So Mordecai went his way, and did according to

all that Esther had commanded him. 'Now it came to pass on the third

day, that Esther put on her royal apparel, and stood in the inner

court of the king's house, over against the king's house: and the king

sat upon his royal throne in the royal house, over against the gate of

the house. 2. And it was so, when the king saw Esther the queen

standing in the court, that she obtained favour in his sight: and the

king held out to Esther the golden sceptre that was in his hand. So

Esther drew near, and touched the top of the sceptre. 3. Then said the

king unto her, What wilt thou, queen Esther? and what is thy request?

it shall be even given thee to the half of the kingdom.'-ESTHER iv.

10-17; v. 1-3.

Patriotism is more evident than religion in the Book of Esther. To

turn to it after the fervours of prophets and the continual

recognition of God in history which marks the other historical books,

is like coming down from heaven to earth, as Ewald says. But that

difference in tone probably accurately represents the difference

between the saints and heroes of an earlier age and the Jews in

Persia, in whom national feeling was stronger than devotion. The

picture of their characteristics deducible from this Book shows many

of the traits which have marked them ever since,--accommodating

flexibility, strangely united with unbending tenacity; a capacity for

securing the favour of influential people, and willingness to stretch

conscience in securing it; reticence and diplomacy; and, beneath all,

unquenchable devotion to Israel, which burns alike in the politic

Mordecai and the lovely Esther.

There is not much audible religion in either, but in this lesson

Mordecai impressively enforces his assurance that Israel cannot

perish, and his belief in Providence setting people in their places

for great unselfish ends; and Esther is ready to die, if need be, in

trying to save her people, and thinks that fasting and prayer will

help her in her daring attempt. These two cousins, unlike in so much,

were alike in their devotion to Israel; and though they said little

about their religion, they acted it, which is better.

It is very like Jews that the relationship between Mordecai and Esther

should have been kept dark. Nobody but one or two trusted servants

knew that the porter was the queen's cousin, and probably her Jewish

birth was also unknown. Secrecy is, no doubt, the armour of oppressed

nations; but it is peculiarly agreeable to the descendants of Jacob,

who was a master of the art. There must have been wonderful

self-command on both sides to keep such a secret, and true affection,

to preserve intercourse through apparent indifference.

Our passage begins in the middle of Esther's conversation with the

confidential go-between, who told her of the insane decree for the

destruction of the Jews, and of Mordecai's request that she should

appeal to the king. She reminds him of what he knew well enough, the

law that unsummoned intruders into the presence are liable to death;

and adds what, of course, he did not know, that she had not been

summoned for a month. We need not dwell on this ridiculously arrogant

law, but may remark that the substantial accuracy of the statement is

confirmed by classical and other authors, and may pause for a moment

to note the glimpse given here of the delirium of self-importance in

which these Persian kings lived, and to see in it no small cause of

their vices and disasters. What chance of knowing facts or of living a

wholesome life had a man shut off thus from all but lickspittles and

slaves? No wonder that the victims of such dignity beat the sea with

rods, when it was rude enough to wreck their ships! No wonder that

they wallowed in sensuality, and lost pith and manhood! No wonder that

Greece crushed their unwieldy armies and fleets!

And what a glimpse into their heart-emptiness and degradation of

sacred ties is given in the fact that Esther the queen had not seen

Ahasuerus for a month, though living in the same palace, and his

favourite wife! No doubt, the experiences of exile had something to do

in later ages with the decided preference of the Jew for monogamy.

But, passing from this, we need only observe how clearly Esther sees

and how calmly she tells Mordecai the tremendous risk which following

his counsel would bring. Note that she does not refuse. She simply

puts the case plainly, as if she invited further communication. 'This

is how things stand. Do you still wish me to run the risk?' That is

poor courage which has to shut its eyes in order to keep itself up to

the mark. Unfortunately, the temperament which clearly sees dangers

and that which dares them are not often found together in due

proportion, and so men are over-rash and over-cautious. This young

queen with her clear eyes saw, and with her brave heart was ready to

face, peril to her life. Unless we fully realise difficulties and

dangers beforehand, our enthusiasm for great causes will ooze out at

our fingers' ends at the first rude assault of these. So let us count

the cost before we take up arms, and let us take up arms after we have

counted the cost. Cautious courage, courageous caution, are good

guides. Either alone is a bad one.

Mordecai's grand message is a condensed statement of the great reasons

which always exist for self-sacrificing efforts for others' good. His

words are none the less saturated with devout thought because they do

not name God. This porter at the palace gate had not the tongue of a

psalmist or of a prophet. He was a plain man, not uninfluenced by his

pagan surroundings, and perhaps he was careful to adapt his message to

the lips of the Gentile messenger, and therefore did not more

definitely use the sacred name.

It is very striking that Mordecai makes no attempt to minimise

Esther's peril in doing as he wished. He knew that she would take her

life in her hand, and he expects her to be willing to do it, as he

would have been willing. It is grand when love exhorts loved ones to a

course which may bring death to them, and lifelong loneliness and

quenched hopes to it. Think of Mordecai's years of care over and pride

in his fair young cousin, and how many joys and soaring visions would

perish with her, and then estimate the heroic self-sacrifice he

exercised in urging her to her course.

His first appeal is on the lowest ground. Pure selfishness should send

her to the king; for, if she did not go, she would not escape the

common ruin. So, on the one hand, she had to face certain destruction;

and, on the other, there were possible success and escape. It may seem

unlikely that the general massacre should include the favourite queen,

and especially as her nationality was apparently a secret. But when a

mob has once tasted blood, its appetite is great and its scent keen,

and there are always informers at hand to point to hidden victims. The

argument holds in reference to many forms of conflict with national

and social evils. If Christian people allow vice and godlessness to

riot unchecked, they will not escape the contagion, in some form or

other. How many good men's sons have been swept away by the

immoralities of great cities! How few families there are in which

there is not 'one dead,' the victim of drink and dissipation! How the

godliness of the Church is cooled down by the low temperature around!

At the very lowest, self-preservation should enlist all good men in a

sacred war against the sins which are slaying their countrymen. If

smallpox breaks out in the slums, it will come uptown into the grand

houses, and the outcasts will prove that they are the rich man's

brethren by infecting him, and perhaps killing him.

Mordecai goes back to the same argument in the later part of his

answer, when he foretells the destruction of Esther and her father's

house. There he puts it, however, in a rather different light. The

destruction is not now, as before, her participation in the common

tragedy, but her exceptional ruin while Israel is preserved. The

unfaithful one, who could have intervened to save, and did not, will

have a special infliction of punishment. That is true in many

applications. Certainly, neglect to do what we can do for others does

always bring some penalty on the slothful coward; and there is no more

short-sighted policy than that which shirks plain duties of

beneficence from regard to self.

But higher considerations than selfish ones are appealed to. Mordecai

is sure that deliverance will come. He does not know whence, but come

it will. How did he arrive at that serene confidence? Certainly

because he trusted God's ancient promises, and believed in the

indestructibility of the nation which a divine hand protected. How

does such a confidence agree with fear of 'destruction'? The two parts

of Mordecai's message sound contradictory; but he might well dread the

threatened catastrophe, and yet be sure that through any disaster

Israel as a nation would pass, cast down, no doubt, but not destroyed.

How did it agree with his earnestness in trying to secure Esther's

help? If he was certain of the issue, why should he have troubled her

or himself? Just for the same reason that the discernment of God's

purposes and absolute reliance on these stimulate, and do not

paralyse, devout activity in helping to carry them out. If we are sure

that a given course, however full of peril and inconvenience, is in

the line of God's purposes, that is a reason for strenuous effort to

carry it out. Since some men are to be honoured to be His instruments,

shall not we be willing to offer ourselves? There is a holy and noble

ambition which covets the dignity of being used by Him. They who

believe that their work helps forward what is dear to God's heart may

well do with their might what they find to do, and not be too careful

to keep on the safe side in doing it. The honour is more than the

danger. 'Here am I; take me,' should be the Christian feeling about

all such work.

The last argument in this noble summary of motives for self-sacrifice

for others' good is the thought of God's purpose in giving Esther her

position. It carries large truth applicable to us all. The source of

all endowments of position, possessions, or capacities, is God. His

purpose in them all goes far beyond the happiness of the receiver.

Dignities and gifts of every sort are ours for use in carrying out His

great designs of good to our fellows. Esther was made queen, not that

she might live in luxury and be the plaything of a king, but that she

might serve Israel. Power is duty. Responsibility is measured by

capacity. Obligation attends advantages. Gifts are burdens. All men

are stewards, and God gives His servants their 'talents,' not for

selfish squandering or hoarding, but to trade with, and to pay the

profits to Him. This penetrating insight into the source and intention

of all which we have, carries a solemn lesson for us all.

The fair young heroine's soul rose to the occasion, and responded with

a swift determination to her older cousin's lofty words. Her pathetic

request for the prayers of the people for whose sake she was facing

death was surely more than superstition. Little as she says about her

faith in God, it obviously underlay her courage. A soul that dares

death in obedience to His will and in dependence on His aid,

demonstrates its godliness more forcibly in silence than by many

professions.

'If I perish, I perish!' Think of the fair, soft lips set to utter

that grand surrender, and of all the flowery and silken cords which

bound the young heart to life, so bright and desirable as was assured

to her. Note the resolute calmness, the Spartan brevity, the clear

sight of the possible fatal issue, the absolute submission. No higher

strain has ever come from human lips. This womanly soul was of the

same stock as a Miriam, a Deborah, Jephthah's daughter; and the same

fire burned in her,--utter devotion to Israel because entire

consecration to Israel's God. Religion and patriotism were to her

inseparable. What was her individual life compared with her people's

weal and her God's will? She was ready without a murmur to lay her

young radiant life down. Such ecstasy of willing self-sacrifice raises

its subject above all fears and dissolves all hindrances. It may be

wrought out in uneventful details of our small lives, and may

illuminate these as truly as it sheds imperishable lustre over the

lovely figure standing in the palace court, and waiting for life or

death at the will of a sensual tyrant.

The scene there need not detain us. We can fancy Esther's beating

heart putting fire in her cheek, and her subdued excitement making her

beauty more splendid as she stood. What a contrast between her and the

arrogant king on his throne! He was a voluptuary, ruined morally by

unchecked licence,--a monster, as he could hardly help being, of lust,

self will, and caprice. She was at that moment an incarnation of

self-sacrifice and pure enthusiasm. The blind world thought that he

was the greater; but how ludicrous his condescension, how vulgar his

pomp, how coarse his kindness, how gross his prodigal promises by the

side of the heroine of faith, whose life he held in his capricious

hand!

How amazed the king would have been if he had been told that one of

his chief titles to be remembered would be that moment's interview!

Ahasuerus is the type of swollen self-indulgence, which always

degrades and coarsens; Esther is the type of self-sacrifice which as

uniformly refines, elevates, and arrays with new beauty and power. If

we would reach the highest nobleness possible to us, we must stand

with Esther at the gate, and not envy or imitate Ahasuerus on his

gaudy throne. 'He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that

loseth his life for My sake and the gospel's, the same shall find it.'

Expositions of Holy Scripture Second Kings Chapters VIII to End and Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah. Esther, Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes · 第 214 / 354 题