Womanhood in the Time of the Prophets and During the Captivity.
THE WICKED JEZEBEL--THE WIDOW OF SAREPTA--THE TISHBITE AT THE CITY
GATE--HIS STRANGE REQUEST--THE WIDOW’S UNFALTERING OBEDIENCE--AN
APPEAL TO ELISHA--A POT OF OIL--THE WIDOW’S WONDERFUL FAITH--THE
RICH WOMAN OF SHUNEM--HER MODEST LIFE--BARLEY HARVEST--A RIDE
TO CARMEL IN THE GLARE OF THE SUN--ESTHER--HER BEAUTIFUL TRAITS
OF CHARACTER--CROWNED AS QUEEN--PLEADING FOR THE LIFE OF HER
PEOPLE--FOUND FAVOR WITH THE KING.
The glory of the united kingdom of Israel, described in the last
chapter, in a few years departed as a dream of the night. It was rent
in twain, and Ahab, the wicked king, was on the throne of the northern
kingdom, with the seat of government in Samaria. He had married
Jezebel, the daughter of Ethbaal, King of Sidon, and she had introduced
into the kingdom of Israel the heathen abominations of the Sidonians.
She had even torn down God’s altars, and persecuted his prophets to the
death. And it seems that too many of the Israelites raised little or
no protests against these wicked acts of Jezebel. Indeed, one of the
reasons why the kingdom, after the death of Solomon, was wrenched from
Rehoboam, his son, was the people worshipped Ashtoreth, the goddess of
the Sidonians.
So grievous had these abominations of the Sidonians become, that
God was about to visit the nation with judgment. But, as He always
sends warnings, and gives a season to repent, so he sent Elijah, the
Tishbite, from the hill country of Gilead down to Ahab in Samaria, with
this message, “As the Lord God of Israel liveth, before whom I stand,
there shall not be dew nor rain these years, but according to my
word.” And James tells us, “it rained not upon the earth for the space
of three years and six months.”
During these years of famine, the Lord directed Elijah to a widow in
Sarepta, after the waters of the brook of Cherith had dried up. Sarepta
(or Zarephath) was a city of Phœnicia. But the distress of the famine
in Israel was felt even here, for Israel was the great grain field
for Phœnicia. And this explains why Elijah, when he came to the city
gate of Sarepta, found a poor woman, a widow, gathering a few sticks,
that she might bake the last morsel of bread and share it with her
child, after which there was nothing more to hope for. The famine was
doing its awful work among the cities of the coast. The hills back of
Sarepta were scorched, and the beautiful valleys on either side of
the city were cracked in great fissures. In her distress this widow,
in her person had wasted to a skeleton, faltering, trembling, as she
staggered out to gather a few sticks to bake her last cake for self and
child, and then to die. Her cheeks were sunken, her eyes hollow, and
her nerves seem never to have known what rest meant. As she walked she
staggered; when she stood she reeled. She was leaning against her gate,
the sticks in her arms when the Tishbite saluted her with the request,
“Fetch me, I pray thee, a drink of water.”
In a moment she was going toward her water pot. “Bring me, I pray thee,
a morsel of bread in thy hand,” the prophet called after her while on
the way to get the water.
“Bread!” Distressed and sorely tried, the poor woman breaks down, and
discloses the sad condition of her home in the ever-memorable words,
“As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but a handful of meal
in a barrel and a little oil in a cruse, and behold, I am gathering two
sticks that I may go and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it
and die.”
She may or she may not have been an Israelite. She may have been one of
the seven thousand who had not bowed unto Baal, and possibly knew who
it was who addressed her. At all events she must have heard of this
“lighted fire-brand, fallen out of the clouds, and hurled by the hand
of Jehovah” at the wicked Ahab. She may even have heard that in the
midst of the drought Ahab had divided the country between himself and
Obadiah, to seek if possible, amidst its former fountains and brooks
a little “grass to save his horses and mules alive,” though it did
not matter to this hardened wretch of a king if his subjects died by
the thousands. So this demand of Elijah must have been a real trial
to her faith. Nor did her distressed condition change the demand of
the Tishbite. “Do as thou hast said,” he commanded, “but bake me a
little cake first!” What, serve this stranger from Gilead before her
starving child? Surely how could she, with her mother heart, obey such
an order? But, noble woman, staggering under the request, she placed
the gathered sticks on the fire, went to the barrel and took out the
last handful of meal, and poured the last drop of oil from the cruse,
and baked for God’s prophet the cake, and served him _first_! Was
there ever such unselfish self-surrender? But for her poverty and her
appearance, she might have passed for an angel who had strayed away
from heaven, got caught in the famine and could not find her way back.
If God had not been behind this exorbitant demand of the prophet it
had been simply heartless. But, along with the demand were the words,
“for the Lord God of Israel hath said it.” If God said it, that was
the end of all questionings, this angel in human form, reduced in her
poverty, staggered off to meet the demand. There may have been no
small stir in heaven when it became known that she had gone to bake
her last cake for the man of God, and then to die without tasting it
herself. If the jasper walls had that moment let down around her, and
all the glorified had gathered about that oven, she would have felt
perfectly at home without a change of raiment. But that “last cake”
was never baked. As the trembling widow stood by the heated oven, in
sublime obedience to God’s requirement, even as Abraham once stood by
his altar fires on Moriah, with the bound Isaac upon it, there came
the gracious “_Fear not!_” She had gone to a point in her faith where
God always breaks down. He saw it all, and out of divine compassion He
answered, “The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse
of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth rain upon the earth.”
And the record goes on to say that she, and the prophet, and her house,
had enough through the years of the famine. There was so much meal and
oil that even the widow’s poor and starving relations came to partake
thereof. That is the way God blesses--it always overflows upon others.
How this incident at Sarepta glorifies God, whom the Scripture teaches
us to know in His unapproachable greatness and in His affable mercy
and condescension! As we sat by the little brook in Sarepta, amid
the noontide glow of an Oriental sun, and read afresh this charming
story, and then raised our eyes to look on the little chapel which
the crusaders had erected on the reputed site of the widow’s home,
the thought of such a God flooded us with His precious nearness, for,
in our human needs, we love to feel His comforting presence in our
hearts. The Jehovah, the Almighty God, the maker of worlds, the ruler
of systems beyond human vision, whose perfect will is done in heaven
by angels, who holdeth the dew of heaven, the rain in the clouds, the
waters of the oceans in His hands, who gives and withholds the needed
bread and water, He is our Father, and exercises a father’s care, so
that the individual is not forgotten of Him. He holds not only the
whole, but the single parts; He looks not only into the palace of
kings, but into the cottages of poverty. The need and misery of a poor
widow are not too insignificant for Him; He observes her sighs and
tears, and her silent, desolate cottage is for Him a place worthy of
the revelation of His glory and goodness.
Matchless widow of Sarepta! As long as the name of Elijah lives, with
its imperishable renown, so long shall thine be found side by side with
it in the unfading annals of the church of God!
But our story runs on. The wicked Ahab had died, and Jehoram, his son,
reigned in his stead. The great hero, prophet of the kingdom of the
ten tribes, had also passed over the Jordan, and somewhere among the
valleys, overshadowed by the lofty dome of Nebo, the “chariot of fire
and horses of fire” came down and translated the first and greatest
of the prophets. His mantle, however, fell upon Elisha, the son of
Shaphat. Elisha had scarcely returned from the land of Moab, whither
he had gone to relieve the armies of Jehoshaphat, king of Judah, out
of the horrors of a water famine, when there met him a certain widow
of the wives of the sons of the prophets, and cried unto him in her
distress. Of what particular prophet she was the widow the record does
not state, nor is her name given. Josephus and the rabbis will have
it that she was the widow of Obadiah, who, they think, had exhausted
his fortune in the provision for the persecuted prophets in the time
of the drought, in the reign of Ahab, when, faithful to God, amidst
the splendors of Ahab’s corrupt court, he hid such of the prophets as
escaped out of the hands of Jezebel, the wicked queen, hid them in
caves, feeding them on bread and water through the sore distress of the
three years’ famine, and so had fallen into debt, basing their claim
upon the woman’s statement that her husband “feared the Lord,” which
is also stated in respect to Obadiah. But whether she was the widow of
Obadiah or not, she was greatly in need, and, in her distress, appealed
to Elisha, who was the acknowledged head of the prophetic school.
But what a calamity had come into her widowhood! Her husband had not
only been taken from her by death, but now, after bravely struggling
to provide for her family, the creditors had come to take her two sons
to be bondsmen. If that will not touch a mother’s heart we do not know
what will. And so she hastens away to relieve her burdened heart in the
ears of the sympathizing prophet. He listened to her story, and then
asked, “What hast thou in the house?”
What a question to ask a mother whose sons were about to be sold into
slavery for debts! What could she have of value she would not gladly
dispose of to save her children?
She answered, “Thine handmaid hath not anything in the house!” Not
anything? Oh yes, there is “a pot of oil.” She was in a more deplorable
condition than the widow of Sarepta, for she, aside from the cruse of
oil, had a “handful of meal.” But this one was entirely destitute, even
of the oil so essential in the preparation of food--she had only a
little pot for anointing purposes. But even this was enough for God and
faith to work on.
“Go,” said Elisha, “borrow thee vessels abroad of all thy neighbors,
even empty vessels; borrow not a few.” Comforted in her heart, she
went home and told her anxious sons what the prophet had said. “It is
vessels you want, is it mother?” “Yes,” she answered, the prophet said,
“borrow not a few!”
So all that morning, and far into the afternoon, the widow’s sons were
calling on their neighbors for empty vessels, crocks, great waterpots,
casks, firkins, in short, anything that would hold oil. As the boys
were going empty-handed down the streets and returning loaded with
vessels, the people began to wonder what that poor widow of the prophet
should want of so many vessels, especially as it was known that she
had nothing in her house. But the boys kept at their work until every
neighbor was borrowed empty, and her house looked more like a depot for
freight, than a poor woman’s cottage. All the rooms were filled, the
open court was filled, and all the approaches were filled. The widow’s
sons, if their industry in borrowing and carrying home vessels would
save them from being sold into slavery, they certainly would escape
out of the hands of their mother’s creditor, for was there ever such a
sight of empty vessels! And not until there were no more to be borrowed
did they cease from their work.
And now the supreme moment came. The prophet had told her, after the
vessels were all in, she should shut the door upon herself and upon her
sons. Only her boys should be witnesses to the mighty deliverances
of God. The locking of the door had no other object than to keep
aloof every interruption from without. The action in question was not
an ordinary, simply external, operation, but an act which was to be
performed by the command of the man of God, and with the heart directed
towards God, that is, in faith, so that it was to be completed, not
in the noise and distraction of everyday life, but in quietness and
solitude. And we may also well believe she first asked God’s blessing
upon her undertaking, so far carried on in faith, for though her house
was full of vessels, they were all as yet empty.
The prayer ended, she took down her ointment jar--and Oh, it was such
a very little pot! Holding it in her hand, she told her oldest son to
bring one of the smallest jars, for how could the little vessel in her
hand fill even the smallest of the borrowed utensils? As she tipped the
little pot, the golden stream began to flow, and it kept on flowing
until the vessel was filled to the brim, to the utter astonishment
of herself and sons. This one filled, another was quickly brought.
And as the oil flowed, the poor woman’s faith grew, and the sweat was
now rolling down the faces of her sons as they brought up the empty
vessels, and removed the full ones. Her face fairly shone as she filled
the last vessel, and in her excitement cried out, “Bring me yet a
vessel!” “Why, mother,” both the sons speaking at once, “there is not a
vessel more!” So when the last was filled to the brim, “the oil stayed.”
As she looked over the sea of vessels all filled to the brim with
golden oil, out of the gladness of her heart she hastened to tell
Elisha what had happened at her house. She had oil in her vessels and
thanksgiving in her heart, and she must tell it out, and who was better
prepared to share her joy than the prophet who had listened to the
story of her distress.
And he said, “Go, sell the oil, and pay thy debt.” The religion that
comes from heaven looks well after its creditors. The debt was paid,
her sons were spared to her, and a surplus was left for them to live
upon.
What a beautiful lesson of faith! We suppose if any of her neighbors
had known that all these empty borrowed vessels were for the purpose
of experimenting with a little pot of anointing oil, it would have
created a sensation. Some, doubtless, would have said, the creditor,
in threatening to take her sons, has driven that poor widow out of her
mind. Why, such a thing as filling these pots, and firkins, and great
casks of ten and fifteen gallon capacity, with a little pot of oil has
never been heard of in Israel, and we can’t understand who could have
put such an absurd idea into the poor woman’s head. Indeed, there was
good reason for shutting the world out, for, if they had seen her take
down the little pot of oil and attempted to pour into the vessels, they
would have laughed her to scorn. But then, we Christian people should
know that the things which are impossible with men, are perfectly
possible with God. Yea, He loves to multiply the impossibilities of
men, that no flesh may glory in His presence.
Then also the number of vessels borrowed speak well for the faith of
this woman. Our Lord tells us, over and over, according to our faith
shall it be done unto us. If her faith had been small, and she had been
content with a few vessels, the oil would have ceased to flow when the
last vessel was filled. If our heavenly Father is ever pleased with the
action of His earthly children, it must be over the audacious faith of
a poor woman who, in her poverty and distress, borrows of her neighbors
empty vessels for Him to fill out of His gracious benevolence.
But not all women, in the time of the prophets, were widows and poor,
but even the rich needed the consolations God only can give in times
of trouble. And so our story runs on from the widow of Sarepta and the
widow who, in her extremity, appealed to Elisha, to the rich woman of
Shunem.
Over against Jezreel, under the base of _Jebel Duhy_ (the so-called
“Little Hermon”) amid luxuriant gardens of lemon, orange and fig trees,
which cast their refreshing shades over the hot and sultry bridle-path,
is the village of _Sulem_, in which we recognize the ancient Shunem,
rendered so dear to every lover of the Bible by the beautiful, sweet
story of the rich Shunammite woman who prepared a prophet’s chamber in
her house, where Elisha often found a shelter from the oppressive heat
of the noontide sun as he passed that way.
The little city, in the division of the land, under Joshua, was
allotted to the tribe of Issachar, and is three miles north of Jezreel,
five miles from Mount Gilboa, about four miles from Nain, where our
Lord raised the widow’s son, and is in full view of the sacred spot
on Mount Carmel. In the southern section of the village, at the base
of the hill Moreh, flows out a transparent stream of sparkling water,
which renders the fields green and beautiful, said to be the finest in
the world.
Amid these enchanting and picturesque scenes lived the Shunammite. The
Bible gives her no name. She needs none. She is simply “a great woman.”
Standing in her doorway, in three directions, she could look out over
the fields of grain, and see the slow movements of the heavily loaded
camels drudge up from the seaport of Acre, or down through the great
plain of Esdraelon from the mountains of Naphtali or the hill country
of Gilead, beyond the Jordan. If Elisha came from Carmel, he would
approach Shunem by the Acre road. Accompanied by Gehazi, one of the
sons of the prophets, she could see them trudging along the dusty camel
path at a great distance, and she said to her husband, “Behold now, I
perceive that this is an holy man of God.” So much for the personal
appearance of Elisha. He carried a good face, which commended itself
even to this discerning woman. Prompted by the manly bearing of the
prophet, he had scarcely reached the gate when she stood before him,
and pointing to her home, “she constrained him to eat bread.”
It appears that Elisha passed frequently through Shunem. No doubt
Carmel, which lay in the middle of the northern part of the kingdom,
was the place where the faithful worshippers of Jehovah, who lived in
the north, came together from time to time, and were strengthened in
their faith, and instructed by the prophet. This would call Elisha to
pass up from Carmel to Shunem and the north. “And so it was, that
as oft as he passed by, he turned in thither to eat bread.” Happy
household! Most gracious hospitality! That sweet home, amid the olive
groves of Shunem, ever afterwards became the resting place of the good
Elisha.
The pious, but keen-sighted woman, who at the first recognized in
Elisha “an holy man of God,” was not deceived or disappointed when she
became more fully acquainted with him in his frequent stops. Indeed,
she must have been very favorably impressed with his bearing, for she
proposed to enlarge her hospitality. She said to her husband, “Let us
make a little chamber, I pray thee, on the wall,” that is, upon the
flat roof of the house, with walls which would be a protection against
storms, “and let us set for him there a bed, and a table, and a stool
and a candlestick.” Beautiful and thoughtful provision. In such a room
Elisha would be protected from every interruption, such as it was
hardly possible to avoid entirely in the house, and there he might pass
his time in quietness.
Elisha wished to make some return to his hostess, who had received and
entertained him so liberally and so often, but he did not know what
would be acceptable to her a woman of wealth. In order to learn this,
he does not address himself directly to her, but directs his servant
to ask the necessary questions, that she may express herself with
less embarrassment and less reserve. He asks, “What is to be done for
thee? Wouldest thou be spoken for to the king, or to the captain of
the host?” This question presupposes that Elisha at that time stood
in favor and respect at court. The king, in this instance may have
referred to Jehu, whom Elisha caused to be anointed. The commander of
the army is named in connection with the king as the most powerful and
most influential man at court.
This excellent woman sent a most beautiful reply to the prophet. “And
she answered, I dwell among my own people.” She asks no recompense
for the good she had done. She wishes to have nothing to do with the
court of the king, and the great ones of the world. She had no favors
to ask, and desired no political honors. Hers was a contented life.
Perhaps, in this reply, she wished to show, at the same time, that she
had not entertained the prophet for the sake of any return, but for
his own sake, and for the sake of God. She had received him in the
name of a prophet, and not for the sake of a reward, or any temporal
gain. She loved God, and therefore loved His servant, and she showed
him kindness, because this was the law God had written upon her heart.
Although she lacked that which was essential to the honor and happiness
of an Israelitish wife, namely, a son, yet she was contented, and no
word of complaint passed her lips--a sign of great humility and modesty.
But the noble-hearted Elisha could not endure the thought of receiving
all these favors without making some return, and he felt all the
more bound to do something for her. To be barren, in those days, was
regarded as a disgrace, so the prophet summoned her into his presence.
But out of modesty and respect she only came to the door. Elisha
announced to her that her home is to be blessed in the birth of a
son. There were the disabilities of nature, and the woman regarded
the announcement as improbable of realization, and, in true Oriental
language, replied, “Nay, my lord, thou man of God, do not lie unto
thine handmaid,” that is, do not deceive me, by exciting vain hopes in
me. The Lord, however, according to His grace and truth, remembers even
the desires which we cherish in silence, as no doubt this woman had
done, but did not express, and He often gives to those who yield to His
holy will without murmurs or complaints just that which they no longer
dared to hope for. It makes a great difference whether we doubt of the
divine promises from unbelief, or from humility or want of confidence
in ourselves, because we consider the promises too great and glorious,
and ourselves unworthy of them.
But God remembered this noble woman of Shunem, who had shown such
kindness to His servant, and, according to the promise, a son was
born into the great woman’s home. A ray of sunshine had indeed broken
through the parted clouds and entered that home--sunshine such as had
never been there before, and such as outshone all her estates.
Below the village, stretching away towards the south and east, were the
wheatfields, and the child, as children sometimes will, slipped out
from under the mothers watchful care, into the field where the reapers
were at work. Absorbed in the work of the reapers, neither the father
nor the son realized the intense heat pouring down out of a clear sky
upon the field at the hottest season of the year. Presently, this child
of promise, which had gladdened the hearts of his parents and brought
such joy and sunshine to their home, came up to his father and said,
“My head, my head.”
It was scarcely barley harvest when we crossed this plain with the
glare of the sun out of a clear sky shining in our face, and with blood
heated and thirsty withal, and the danger of a sun-stroke, we thought
of the words of the child, and ever since they have had a new meaning.
At once the father directed a lad to carry the child “to his mother,”
and when the lad had brought him “he sat on her knees till noon, and
then died.” All the mother’s hope turned to ashes, and her joy into
grief, made all the more bitter because it was her only child. As she
sat in her house with the dead child folded to her bosom, her soul
cried out: “What is life?” Though passing fair, it is but as
A flower just opened in the sun,
And wilted, withered, ere the day is done;
A vapor swiftly floating in the sky,
That vanished as it caught our eye;
A fragrant perfume borne upon the gale,
That’s gone before we could its sweets inhale.
A bright pinioned warbler but just flitting by
Is lost, while we gaze in the depths of the sky;
A bud just bursting when the cruel frost
Steals all its beauty and its fragrance is lost.
Strains of sweet music floating on the air,
Soon turned to moans and wailings of despair;
A glowing smile while flashing o’er the face,
Suddenly to glistening tears give place.
The grief-smitten mother carried the body of her precious child into
the upper chamber and tenderly laid it on the “bed of the man of God,
and shut the door upon it.” Doubtless, for the present, she intended to
keep the death of the child from the husband and father. Evidently she
cherished the secret hope that the prophet, who had promised her a son
in the name of Jehovah, and had not deceived her, could help to restore
him. At all events she acted promptly. She called her husband to send a
young man out of the field to make ready with all haste to go to Mount
Carmel, and when ready she said to the servant, “Drive, and go forward;
slack not thy riding for me, except I bid thee.”
Elisha, from his outlook on mount Carmel, saw a cloud of dust in the
plain of Esdraelon, and he called the attention of Gehazi to the flying
figures at the head of it. On swept the riders over the plain. Elisha
once more put his hand up to shade his eyes from the glare of the sun,
and said, “Behold, it is the Shunammite; run now,” and ask, “Is it well
with thee? is it well with thy husband? is it well with the child?” By
sending his servant to meet her, Elisha showed how highly he esteemed
this woman. However, to the salutation of Gehazi, she returned only
the short, indefinite answer, “It is well,” in order, doubtless, not
to be detained by further explanations. She would at once hasten to
the prophet himself. When she came near him, overcome by grief, which
she had repressed until then, she threw herself at his feet, in the
manner of Orientals, and sobbed out her great sorrow, at the same time
imploring his assistance. Gehazi could not understand it. He thought
her conduct in clasping his master’s feet an offence against his
dignity, and “came near to thrust her away.” But Elisha said, “Let her
alone.” Give the poor grief-stricken woman a chance to compose herself
and to tell her trouble.
Presently, the stricken mother called the prophet’s attention to
his own promise, meaning to say thereby, I did not complain of
my childlessness, and did not demand a son; now, however, I am
grief-smitten, for it is better never to have a child than to have one
and lose it.
The grief and the lamentation of the woman moved the compassionate
heart of the prophet so much that he desired to bring her relief as
soon as possible. He therefore said to Gehazi, “Gird up thy loins,
and take my staff in thine hand and go thy way; if thou meet any man,
salute him not.” This shows that he was to go as quickly as possible.
He was even to refrain from saluting any one. It is well known that
salutations are far more ceremonious in the Orient than with us, and
inferiors always remain standing until persons of higher rank pass by,
and thus annoying delay was often occasioned. This command to hasten
would draw off the attention of the mother from her excessive grief,
and, possibly, Elisha may have hoped that life had not yet entirely
left the child, and that utter decease might yet be prevented by swift
interference. But the importunity of the woman, that Elisha himself
should come, proceeded from the conviction that the child was already
completely dead, and that now not Gehazi, but only the prophet himself,
who had promised her the son, could help. To this deep confidence he
promptly responded.
Gehazi carried out his commission by hastening on to Shunem, and
placing the prophet’s staff upon the face of the child, and, by means
of the divine power, of which the staff was the symbol, he was to
execute a prophetical act in awakening the child out of the death-sleep.
Before Elisha, with the sorrowing mother, arrived at Shunem, Gehazi had
discharged his commission, although in vain, and was on his way back
again, when he met the prophet, and said, “The child is not awaked.”
Though he had the external symbol of the prophet’s power, yet it lacked
the spirit of Jehovah, which was the special gift of God, and which
even Elisha might not delegate, according to his own will and pleasure,
to his servant.
The want of success of Gehazi’s commission spurred on the prophet all
the more to do what he could in order to restore the child to life.
Having reached the house of sorrow, and the little chamber where the
loving hands of the mother had laid the body of her child, Elisha shut
the door, and “prayed unto the Lord.” In that awful hour of a mother’s
heart-crushing suspense, God heard His servant’s cry, and gave back the
precious child to life again.
The closing scene is very beautiful indeed. The mother having been
called, when she reached the chamber, Elisha said, “Take up thy son!”
We are not told whether the mother heart first leaped to embrace the
child, or, out of modest gratitude, she first fell at the prophet’s
feet in a flood of grateful thanksgiving. The bread of kindness she
had been casting upon the waters, in honoring God’s servant, now all
returned to her. She certainly was reaping with tears of joy, and, had
she lived in this gospel age, she could have heard the Lord of life
saying, “Inasmuch as ye did it to one of these My servants, ye did it
unto Me.” Marvels of marvels, that prophets’ homes do not dot our land
in this day of gospel light.
As Elisha broke asunder
Death’s cold hands and said, “Arise,”
Give the child back to his mother--
So Thy power doth still suffice.
Immortal woman of Shunem! Home-builder for the prophets of the Lord;
the saints in glory salute thee to-day, and the saints on earth are
thrilled with thy worthy example. There is scarcely a story in the Old
Testament which is more beautiful than the one related of this “great
woman” in White Raiment, who built a prophet’s chamber in her own house
at Shunem, where the servant of the Lord might turn in out of the glare
of the noontide sun and find rest.
From the incidents connected with the beautiful life of the rich woman
of Shunem, to the time of Queen Esther, there is a period of about four
hundred years, and they are years of turbulance on the part of the
people and admonitions on the part of God, until finally He suffered
them to be led away into captivity.
The scene of our next woman in White Raiment is in the reign of
Ahasuerus, son of Xerxes, who lived B. C. 462. After several severe
conflicts he was settled in peaceable possession of the Persian Empire,
and, in honor of his victory, appointed a feast in the city of Shushan,
which continued for one hundred and eighty days, after which he gave a
great feast to all the princes and people who were in Shushan for seven
days.
[Illustration: HADASSAH IN THE PERSIAN COURT.]
Queen Vashti, at the same time, made a like feast, in her apartment for
the women.
On the seventh day of the feast, Ahasuerus commanded the seven
chamberlains to bring Queen Vashti before him, with the crown royal on
her head, that he might show to the princes and people her beauty.
This she refused, for the act would be contrary to the usage of Persia,
very indecent and unbecoming a lady, as well as the dignity of her
station. Whereupon the king was incensed, and fearing the influence
among the people of the realm in encouraging women to disobey their
husbands, called a council of seven, to determine what should be done.
The council advised putting away the queen, and she was removed from
her high position as queen, and a collection of virgins was ordered
throughout the realm for the selection of a successor.
There lived at this time in Shushan a Jew named Mordecai, a descendant
of Babylonish captives and who was a porter at the royal palace.
Mordecai, not having children, brought up Hadassah, his uncle’s
daughter. Her life opened like a cactus flower on the thorny stem of
the captivity, but nevertheless is an exquisite jewel with a royally
superb setting, and gleams and sparkles in Hebrew history.
Her mother named her Hadassah, for the myrtle tree, which was not only
beautiful, with its glossy, dark-green leaves and luxuriant clusters of
white bloom, but was useful for perfumery and spice. It was the emblem
of justice, and bearing it may have added strength to her character.
Her Persian name was Esther, for the planet Venus. Orientals held the
myrtle sacred to the goddess of Love.
Esther, being fair and beautiful, was made choice of among other
maidens in this collection of virgins which had been ordered, and was
carried to the king’s palace and there committed to the care of Hegai,
and was assigned to the best apartments.
This captive young woman was discreet. Those who have great beauty do
not always have discretion. Depending upon the power of their personal
charms, they neglect to cultivate the mind and soul. Physical beauty,
like fruit, begins to decline as soon as it reaches its best. Mental
and spiritual beauty grow with the years as long as the hygienic laws
of grace are obeyed. But she was not only discreet, but also amiable.
Amiability costs only self-control and unselfish love, and it is the
best possible investment. Genuine amiability is God’s gift to those who
trust Him to cleanse them from all that is contrary to love.
Then also this Hebrew maiden must have known severe discipline. She
showed its effect in the gentle deportment that won the favor of the
officers that guarded the king’s harem. She submitted her taste in
dress and ornament to the one who had the responsibility of preparing
her for the royal presence, and in the docility with which she heeded
the advice of Mordecai.
These graces of mind and heart commended her to the king’s favor and
she was advanced to higher honor, and subsequently, when Queen Vashti
was deposed, Esther was crowned in her stead. Thus she was raised at
once to the highest place that the world could give a woman at that
day--as the queen and favorite of the mightiest monarch of his time.
This event was celebrated by a great feast which the king made to all
his princes, called Esther’s feast, and which was attended with high
honor, and by the presentation of gifts, “according to the state of the
king.”
About this time Haman, the chief minister or vizier of King Ahasuerus,
was promoted, so that his seat was “above all the princes.” The Targum
and Josephus interpret the description of Haman, the Agagite, as
signifying that he was of Amalekitish descent, the sworn enemies of
the Israelites in their march through the desert, and the sparing of
whom cost Saul, the first king of Israel, his crown. This Haman was the
king’s favorite, and all the under officers and servants were required
to pay reverence unto him.
But there was one man who would not bow. This was Mordecai, the
porter at the royal palace. He would not salute Haman, the idolatrous
descendent of the old enemies of his people. This greatly displeased
Haman, but he scorned to lay hands on Mordecai, and knowing him to
be a Jew, resolved to destroy him and his people. He took council and
determined by lot on the day for the accomplishment of his purpose.
To do this successfully he must deceive the king and entrap him to
do a wicked act. So he said to Ahasuerus, “There is a certain people
scattered abroad and dispersed among the people in all the provinces
of thy kingdom; and their laws are diverse from all people; neither
keep they the king’s laws; therefore it is not for the king’s profit
to suffer them. If it please the king, let it be written that they
be destroyed; and I will pay ten thousand talents of silver to the
hands of those that have the charge of the business, to bring it into
the king’s treasuries.” And so this hateful Amalekite, by offering
to pay into the king’s treasury more than $10,000,000, obtained the
royal decree to put all the Israelites in the hundred and twenty-seven
provinces of Ahasuerus, extending from India to Ethiopia, to death.
When Mordecai heard of the decree, he and the Hebrews made great
lamentation, and he made Queen Esther acquainted with the plot to
destroy her people, and entreated her to go in unto the king and make
supplication for their rescue. At first she excused herself, but being
led to understand that she, too, was included in the decree, she put
her life on the hazard for the safety of her countrymen. It was no
light matter for the beautiful young queen to risk her life to save
her people. Surrounded as she was by the luxury and elegance of that
magnificent Persian court, keenly alive to the charm of all lovely
things, it meant much for her to go down to the grave in the brilliant
morning of her youth.
But when Mordecai turned to her for help, he reminded her that she
had come to the kingdom for such a time as that. His faith asserted
that God would deliver His people; and, if she failed to do her part,
she and her father’s house would perish. She said she would make the
attempt. “If I perish, I perish,” was her wail of submission.
However, in her great undertaking, she displayed a humble dependence
upon the God of Israel; she also showed great prudence and wisdom. She
asked her people to fast and pray three days; and all her maidens--who
were selected, no doubt, on account of their sympathy with her
faith--would also fast and pray. When the books are opened it may
appear that the Hebrews were led, through the deliverance that she
wrought for them, to the penitence that made it possible for God to
take them back to the fatherland.
[Illustration: ESTHER PLEADING FOR HER PEOPLE.]
At the end of the fast she put on her royal apparel and went unto the
king while he was seated upon his throne. The first gleam of hope
lighted up her distressed heart when Ahasuerus held out his golden
sceptre.
It has been said that men’s hearts are reached through their stomachs.
Whether this was true of Ahasuerus, or whether Esther knew of this
avenue or not, she certainly showed great tact when she desired to
make a banquet for the king and his favorite prince, Haman, which the
beautiful queen would prepare, where he could then hear her request.
It would have been a most natural thing to do, after Esther had risked
her life by going uncalled into the presence of the king, and when
she found him graciously disposed to partake of her feast, to throw
herself at once upon his mercy, and beg for her life and the lives of
her people. But no. She must have great power over him to get him to
undertake the difficult task of setting aside one of his own decrees.
Probably her faith in God was not yet strong enough for her to make a
sure move. She saw that she was not yet sure of her ground, nor firm
in her faith; so, when he made the great offer even of dividing his
kingdom with her, she simply asked that he and Haman should honor her
with their presence at another banquet.
Doubtless, as she sat at the second banquet with the perfect
self-control that they have who rely only on God, having used every
device to fortify her position in the good graces of the capricious
despot, her keen Hebrew insight weighed every light expression from his
lips, although she knew a sword of doom hung over her jewel-crowned
head, and yet she was calm and self-contained, as if she had no thought
but to please him. Thus she led the king on until her power over him
was at its height, and when he again offered her half the kingdom, she
asked only for her life and the lives of her people.
It must be that, although Haman was present at this banquet, he did
not hear the request of Queen Esther, for he went forth from the feast
“that day joyful and with a glad heart.” But when he saw Mordecai, in
the king’s gate, and that he still refused to bow to him, “he was full
of indignation.”
So when he reached his own residence, he called his friends, and took
counsel with them, and they advised him to cause a gallows to be built,
eighty feet high, and to ask the next morning to have the king order
Mordecai to be hanged thereon.
But matters had taken a different turn at the palace. The king could
not sleep that night. To pass the long, wakeful hours, he called for
the reading of the records of the kingdom. As they were reading before
the king, it was found written in the chronicles of the conspiracy of
Bigthan and Terish, and that Mordecai had discovered the plot, and that
nothing had been done for him as a reward.
In the meantime the morning drew on, and Haman had entered the court of
the palace to confer with the king about the hanging of Mordecai. We
can well believe the mind of Ahasuerus was in a bad frame to talk about
hanging the man who had saved his life by discovering the plot of the
king’s chamberlains. But the king did not know what dark deeds were in
the heart of Haman as he ordered him to be called. When Haman came into
the presence of Ahasuerus, the king asked what should be done with the
man whom he wanted to honor.
The king’s favorite, who had just shared two private banquets with
the king, was so inflated with himself that he did not think there
was another man in the Persian empire in whom Ahasuerus would be so
delighted to honor as himself, so he advised that the royal apparel be
brought forth and the king’s horse and his crown, and given to one of
the noble princes to array the man whom the king delighted to honor,
and take him through the city on horseback with a proclamation, “This
is the man whom the king delighteth to honor.”
The command was given to Haman to thus honor Mordecai, which he did,
with not very good grace, for, when he had finished his task, he
“hasted to his house mourning, and having his head covered,” and
related his mortification to his wife and friends.
After all, for the moment at least, it must have seemed to Haman and
his friends as a strange act on the part of the king, for while they
were yet talking over the humiliation, the king’s chamberlains came,
requesting Haman to hasten and come to the banquet Esther had prepared.
It must have seemed to Haman that Esther had really gone into the
banqueting business, so frequently had he been honored of late.
When the king and Haman sat down to the banquet the king again asked
Esther what was her petition. Whereupon she humbly prayed the king
that her life might be given her and her people, for a design was laid
for the destruction of her and her kindred. At which the king asked
with much anger who it was that durst do this thing. She told him that
Haman, then present, was the author of the wicked plot, and she laid
the whole scheme open to the king. Who can tell how much her own chance
of salvation depended on her courage, self-control and tact? A look,
even the droop of an eye-lid, might have betrayed her into the hands
of the most cringing and unscrupulous of royal favorites, and sent her
and her whole race to their death. But God held her steady in nerve and
growing in faith, as He does all who put their whole trust in Him.
The king rose up with much wrath from the banquet and walked out into
the garden.
Haman saw his opportunity. Quickly he stood up to plead for his life.
Perceiving that there was evil determined against him by the king, he
prostrated himself before the queen upon the couch on which she was
sitting to supplicate for his life; in which position the king found
him on his return.
The motive for Haman’s unhappy attitude before the queen was
misunderstood by the king, and he spoke in great passion, “What, will
he force the queen before me in the house!”
At which words the servants present immediately covered Haman’s face,
as was the usage to condemned persons, and the chamberlain, who had
called Haman to the banquet, acquainted the king with the gallows he
saw in his house there prepared for Mordecai, who had saved the king’s
life.
The king ordered Haman should be forthwith hanged thereon, which was
accordingly done. A feast was then consecrated in commemoration of the
deliverance of the Jews, called the feast of Purim.
This story of Esther, which has in it the real romance of life, has
also a consummate blending of works and faith. Preparing a banquet of
every luxury that could please a dangerous tyrant, and at the same time
fasting and praying in heart-humbling agony for Divine deliverance.