Esther 8:1-17 A Minority Story

 

Observation: The Book of Esther takes place in Susa, the capital of the Persian empire. Esther and Mordecai, who are Jewish, have just averted an evil plot from Haman, a court official, to kill all Jews throughout the Persian Empire. Instead, the King sends out an edict that Jews are allowed to defend themselves from any and all attackers or enemies, and to plunder their property. This great victory for Jews living in this foreign land is celebrated to this day as the holiday of Purim. 

Application: Even though the book of Esther is one of the only Biblical books that does not mention God, it is a book close to the heart of many Jews in recent centuries, because they know what it is to live as a minority ethnicity and a minority faith. Tragic history has shown that a victory like the one Esther and her cousin Mordecai celebrate is not always the way things turn out. Living as a minority, Jews have too often faced persecution, violence, and even genocide. The book of Esther celebrates survival against all odds.

Christians in America today are not a minority faith. It's just a fact. Even amid the decline in church attendance, we hold a majority in most every state of our nation. Yes, we have denominational differences, and no, we don't share ethnic ties in the way that many Jews in our country do, but in no sense can Christians be considered a "minority."

Yet that was not always the case. The first few generations of Christians were found in small, tight-knit groups in majority pagan cities. Many of our ancestors in faith lived in cities whose  whole culture, economy and civic life were built around the worship of Greek and Roman gods. Confessing that there was only one God, whose Son was Jesus Christ, was considered very odd indeed, and often opened us up to ridicule and worse. In many places throughout the globe, Christians remain a minority, sometimes even facing the kind of persecution the first Christians faced. 

As I read the book of Esther, the simple message to me is compassion for those whose faith and culture are different from the majority. That means being aware of privilege that Christians may enjoy in our society without even knowing it, and making sure we do not repeat the mistakes of our past. 

Prayer: God, for your children, the Jews, who first shared with us your Word, I give thanks. Help us to honor them and be kind and considerate neighbors to them. Amen.   

Isaiah 49:4-6 Thinking Too Small

 

Observation: This is one of Isaiah's famous "Servant Songs" which were very important to early Christian understanding of Jesus' life, death and resurrection. They have guided our thinking, especially in Holy Week. In this song, the anonymous "servant" despairs because he feels his work is in vain. Instead of letting the servant "off the hook," God says, "It is too light a thing" for the servant to raise up and restore the people of Israel from exile. God has bigger plans. The servant will be "a light to the nations." Wow!

Application: As I'm thinking through my long to-do list for Holy Week, I'm actually feeling okay. Dare I say, I'm even excited! This will be a really meaningful week of worship. But this servant song does hit home for me often, when things don't go as planned, and I get discouraged. What I take from this servant song is a very important but strange truth: sometimes, when you're weary, it's not because you've taken on too much. It's because you're thinking too small. Now PLEASE understand that's not to say you should have a longer to-do list; in fact it might have to be shorter. It doesn't mean you should be working more hours; in fact, it might work out to less. But just like the servant, we may be weary and exhausted from focusing on the small stuff. From the stuff that we know, deep down, doesn't matter. We might be too focused on every detail that isn't right, every little complaint we've ever heard, all the nits that need to be picked (I hope my family will forgive me if that metaphor hits too close to home!). Instead, what God may want is for us to zoom out, and see the huge story of which we are a part, and take joy that we get to play a unique, though tiny, role within it. This week, we'll hear an epic love tory between God and humankind. We'll hear about the outworking of God's plan to save, heal and reconcile all creation, on the cross. The work was done on Good Friday, but the fruits are still being born with each passing day, until the final Kingdom of God. This is HUGE! And it's already DONE! All of it! Yes, we have lots of work ahead, because we get to be part of that ministry of reconciliation, the peace-making that flows out from the crucified and risen Lord. But it's not our job to do all of it. However this week goes, it's already done, It is finished. And we will shine brighter, as a "light to the nations," if we abide in that story for a while, and let some of the details fall by the wayside. 

Prayer: We adore you O Christ, and we bless you, for by your holy cross your have redeemed the world. Amen. 

1 John 2:24-28 Abiding

 

Observation: The writer of 1 John is likely either the same person or closely related to the writer of the Gospel of John. In both books, the word "abide" is essential. Even in this short passage, it shows up many times. God's teaching and God's anointing abide in believers. Believers abide in the Son and in the Father. Abide means to dwell, to live, and also to rest. I think of abiding as our default or home base: where we first wake up in the morning; what we do when there's nothing to do; where we go when there's no other place to go. 

Application: I'm having a lot of memories coming back from two years ago, when much of the world first went on lock-down in response to COVID-19. We all had to "abide" at home for a few weeks, and even after that, getting out into the world was a slow process. It continues to be. We couldn't venture out to work, to socialize, or even to worship. During that time, I think we learned about our "abiding place." Not just the physical space of our homes, but of where our hearts and minds automatically go in times of trouble, which tends to be where we spend the most time when things are normal, too. It could be a fearful and anxious place. It could be faithful and loving place. But it tends to be our home place in normal times. A funny example of this instinct is from the horror comedy "Sean of the Dead," starring Simon Pegg. The title character and his friends fin themselves in the midst of a Zombie apocalypse, and for no logical reason, they decide to hide out in the pub where they spend much of their free time. It's their abiding place. 

If God is our abiding place, that means God is kind of our mental and spiritual home base. Prayer and Bible study, worship, acts of service and love, sharing faith, advocating for vulnerable people, become more instinctive than forced. When our world gets turned upside down--like, for instance, in a huge unprecedented public health crisis--one who abides in God finds a way to continue doing that, even when they can't do it in the way they're used to. Of course, it always takes intention to create that kind of innate response: nobody but Jesus abides in God by their very nature. We have to work on it. But as we work on it, we find that god also abides in us, and we do find ourselves reacting in surprising ways under pressure. 

Prayer: God, abide in me, and help me to abide in you. In Jesus' name, amen.