Esther 8:5,6 - Preacher's Complete Homiletical Commentary

Bible Comments

CRITICAL NOTES.]

Esther 8:5.] The introductory formula are in part similar to those used before, but strengthened by the introduction of two new phrases. Let it be written to reverse the letters] Perhaps Esther was not sufficiently acquainted with Persian law to know that no royal decree could be reversed.—Whedon.

MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH. Esther 8:5-6

THE PLEADING OF A GREAT PASSION

Patriotism is among the noblest and strongest passions of the human heart. This warm and self-forgetting devotion to the claims of our country often very closely resembles the all-reaching love which is produced by Christianity. If, indeed, the Church can boast of martyrs, men who have died rather than deny the truth, every great nation can tell of patriots who chose death rather than the dishonour of their country. In ancient Sparta this passion burned with so hot a flame that mothers rejoiced when their dead but triumphant sons were carried home upon their shields; and a mother was, at least on one great occasion, known to slay her son who had turned coward upon the field of battle. The patriotism of the Jews, being a religious as well as a national sentiment, was peculiarly strong. With the glory of the nation, the success and even the existence of the religion were inextricably involved: if Israel were destroyed, the worship of Jehovah ceased from among men; and if David’s line were cut off, the world’s Redeemer could never appear. Now, if it was the proudest boast of ancient days to be able to say, “I am a Roman citizen;” and if so many of us would not sell for untold wealth our British birthright; how much more noble is it to say, “I am a citizen of heaven.” The very dust and stones of Zion should be precious in our sight. No sacrifices can be too great which are made for Christ, and no work can be mean which tends toward the extension of his kingdom. The noblest offices of the world are mean and poor beside the humblest duties of the Church. We cannot refrain from a lofty emotion when we remember the glories of our spiritual temple. The temple of Jerusalem has passed away; but the true Zion, of which that was but a type, is established for ever. Now the whole of Esther’s life shows that she was under the influence of both the national and the religious sentiments. But perhaps in all the story, her patriotism never shines so beautifully as in this paragraph. All the grace of a tender woman, all the exquisite tact of a woman deeply in earnest, and all the deep pathos of a woman’s heart, are richly displayed.

I. A great passion inspires humility. If it please the king, and if the thing seem right before the king. Pride is effaced in the presence of a lofty emotion. That the thing was in itself right she does not venture to assert, but recognizes the supreme power of the Oriental despot. As a mountain torrent, swollen by the winter rains, sweeps away the feeble dykes which were intended to impede its overwhelming progress; so the lofty passion which inspired her heart made Esther oblivious of her own claims upon the king. Lest she should injure her plea, she does not stop to insist upon absolute right; but asks as a favour what might have been demanded as an act of justice. She was the wise counsellor, and Ahasuerus was the fool; and yet she descends even below his level. Yet if her language was becoming in her lips when she addressed only an earthly monarch, much more is such submission suitable on the lips of a Christian. Possibly many an earnest prayer meets with no Divine “I will” in answer, because what ought to have been asked as a favour is demanded almost as a right. Our ignorance, which knows not what is expedient,—our folly, which wishes for injurious comforts,—and our guilt, which takes away all merit from our prayers,—are all arguments for humility. Above all is the example of our Lord, who prayed “Thy will be done.”

II. A great passion consecrates personal gifts. “If I be pleasing in his eyes.” What treasures of wealth, genius, and affection have been laid on the altar of patriotism! Even for a shilling a day men will be found ready to die rather than submit to the dishonour of their flag. No need to travel back to either Jewish or Roman history for illustrations of the text. The grand valour of the Dutch in their wars against Spain, or the countless deeds of daring performed on many a desperate field by British troops, show that every generous heart holds the country dearer than the life. Equally wonderful the triumphs of faith! Elliott and Brainard, Martyn and Schwartz, were animated by the same passion for the heavenly that inspired Esther for the earthly kingdom. So the Cobbler of Leicestershire conquered the difficulties of forty dialects in order that, beneath the shadow of ancient temples or high on the slopes of swelling hills, he might preach Christ to the people of India. So Howard, or Wilberforce, or Livingstone were equally inspired by Christ with the grand enthusiasm of humanity.

III. A great passion creates a delicate tact. “Let it be written to reverse the letters devised by Haman.” Thus, with all a woman’s subtle insight into the heart, she does not remind the king of his share in the iniquity; she only speaks of the sin of Haman. A lower level of patriotism might have reproached the king with his own folly; but in her lofty zeal for her people she avoids all manner of reproach. It will be time enough for reproaches when her petition has failed. If the king will not undo the wrong that he has done, then she will cast in her lot with her kindred, and fling the king’s favours back in his face. Meanwhile she builds for him a bridge of gold. Many seem more anxious to reprove the sinner than to remove the sin. Accordingly they are full of invective, and the sinner “turns away in a rage.” Those who are pleading for Christ need, along with other noble gifts, a delicate tact. It is easy to make the sinner cry, “What! am I to beg and pray like a beaten child? No! Let Divine vengeance fall. Terror shall not make me afraid.” And truly if hell were the only motive of the Gospel there would be some reason in the bitter words. But as Esther pleaded delicately for her people, so the preacher should plead wisely for his Master. Men are oftener to be led than driven; as flies are caught by honey rather than by vinegar.

IV. A great passion is called up by a great occasion. “How can I endure to see the evil that shall come unto my people?” It is sometimes said as an objection to Christianity that the Bible does not teach the duty of patriotism. But by example it does. The example of our Lord as he wept over the city is a supreme instance. Here is the example of Esther. (α) Patriotism is a noble sentiment. It arises above the natural selfishness that confines affection in narrow limits, and extends to all the nation. It burns more brightly in a small brave nation than in a vast empire; so Athens, Judea, Montenegro were noted for this virtue. It feeds upon the noble traditions of the past, so that the example of a Washington becomes reproductive. It is injured by party faction, so that a nation torn in two by intestine strife is open to the arts of any invader. Often it is altogether destroyed by the vices of a ruler; thus, it is said that the Moors were introduced into Spain, and the English into Ireland, in order that certain nobles might revenge themselves upon their king. But this virtue never shines so brightly as in days of disaster. Motley’s ‘History of the Dutch Republic’ is a magnificent illustration of this principle. As Macaulay speaks of that stubborn British valour which never shines so brightly as at the close of a long and doubtful day; so true patriotism never flames up so high as when an invader’s foot is planted on our shores. Then a patriot may use the language of Pitt—“I would never lay down my arms; never! never! never!” (β) This virtue has corresponding dangers. As humility tends to cowardice, courage to recklessness, liberality to prodigality, so that Aristotle teaches that virtue is always a mean between two extremes; similarly patriotism tends to ostentation, to self-confidence, and injustice. A Roman pardoned any wickedness by which the territory or wealth of Rome was increased; Englishmen condone many a crime because it seems to be for the national advantage. Artifices which would rouse the derision of the whole country if they were to be perpetrated by the French, become sacred as soon as they are practised by statesmen of our own. (γ) Patriotism will some day be merged in a far wider sentiment. As the farmer sows two kinds of seed in the same field, and when the one which grows more rapidly has ripened and is cut down, then the other more slowly comes to maturity; so amid the thick growth of family and national affection there is slowly developing a far deeper and nobler passion, which will look forward to the day when, in all the earth, there shall be but one nation, whose king is Christ.

V. A great passion does not overlook family affection. “Or how can I endure to see the destruction of my kindred?” The national sentiment arises first in the family; and as the domestic affections are pure and strong, or corrupt and weak, will be the growth or decline of the nation. In the great days of Rome divorces were unknown for centuries together; and as the family ties relaxed the whole empire became corrupt. As Moses refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter; so Esther could not separate herself from her people. The vine which hangs its rich clusters of grapes over some stately palace sends its roots far under the ground to perennial springs of water; and so, while Esther adorned the palace with her beauty, she still felt that she grew up out of a despised race of Jews who usually lived far away from the court. Humanly speaking, her whole virtue sprang from her adherence to her people. Distrust the man who treats lightly the claims of family and home. Family affection is essential to the State, is consecrated by Christianity; and here Esther becomes a type of Him who, though exalted to a nobler throne than that of Shushan, still remembers his kinsmen after the flesh.

SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS ON Esther 8:5-6

1. This petition Esther presents with much affection. She fell down at his feet and besought him with tears: every tear as precious as any of the pearls with which she was adorned. It was time to be earnest when the Church of God lay at stake. Let none be so great as to be unwilling to stoop, none so merry as to be unwilling to weep, when thereby they may do any service to God’s Church and people. Esther, though safe herself, fell down and begged with tears for the deliverance of her people.
2. She expresses it with great submission, and a profound deference to the king, and his wisdom and will. If it please the king, and if I have found favour in his sight. Even then when we have the clearest reason and justice on our side, and have the clearest cause to plead, yet it becomes us to speak to our superiors with humility and modesty, and not to talk like demandants when we are supplicants. There is nothing lost by decency and good breeding. As soft answers turn away wrath, so soft askings obtain favour.
3. She enforces her petition with a pathetic plea: “For how can I endure to see the evil that shall come upon my people?” Little comfort can I have of my own life if I cannot prevail for theirs: as good share in the evil myself as see it come upon them; for how can I endure to see the destruction of my kindred that are dear to me? Esther, a queen, owns her poor kindred, and speaks of them with a very tender concern. Now it was that she mingled her tears with her words, that she wept and made supplication. We read of no tears when she begged for her own life; but now that she is sure of that, she wept for her people. Tears of pity and tenderness are the most Christ-like. They that are truly concerned for the public would rather die in the ditch than live to see the desolations of the Church of God and the ruin of their country. Tender spirits cannot bear to hear of the ruin of their people and kindred, and therefore dare not omit any opportunity of giving them relief.—M. Henry.

We should have sympathy for the oppressed brethren in the faith (1 Peter 3:8; Colossians 3:12; Galatians 6:10). The innocence of the guiltless should be protected (1 Samuel 20:32). He who has no pity for the pious and innocent when they are in danger is not worthy of the name of a man, much less that of a Christian; for we are members of one body (1 Corinthians 12:10).—Starke.

She had her life already given her at her petition; but unless she might have her people at her request, who were sold as well as herself, her life would be unto her a joyless, that is, a lifeless, life. It is rather a death than a life that is spent in heaviness and horror. And this would be Esther’s case if her people should be massacred, as was designed and decreed.… How can I? and shall I see? how should I do otherwise than sink at the sight? Melancthon said that the good Œcolampadius died of grief for the Church’s calamities. Nehemiah was heart-sick for the breaches of Joseph. Moses wished himself expunged, and Paul accursed, rather than it should go ill with God’s people.—Trapp.

Indeed there is no sublimity of human character to equal that which is reached in such a mood. Take the greatest men who have lived, in their greatest moments, you will find that either they are in this mood or in one not far removed from it. Morally, the grandest act in the life of Moses, to our thinking, is not to be found on the granite peaks of Sinai amid the thunders, and the darkness, and the flames; nor on Pisgah, with the far-stretching land of promise lying in light before him; but when grieved, and humbled, and disappointed with the idolatries of the people, and yet clinging passionately to them still, he threw himself before God as their intercessor, crying, “Oh, this people have sinned a great sin; yet now, if thou wilt forgive their sin,—and if not, blot me, I pray Thee, out of Thy book which Thou hast written.” If I fail in this I fail in everything. Life itself will hardly be desirable any longer. If this people for whom I have lived is to die, let me die with them, and let us all be forgotten together.
David could sing with loud voice to the praise of God. He could cry to him in the lonely wilderness by night until his voice echoed among the rocks and hills. He could fight at the head of the bravest. He could sometimes magnanimously spare the life of an enemy, even when, by sacrificing that life, his own advancement would be promoted. But among all the moods of his life, none, probably, is really diviner than that which is expressed in these words, written apparently while his heart was melted, while his tears were flowing,—“Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, because they keep not thy law.”
St. Paul, often great in this greatness, is never more conspicuously so than when he declares that he has “great heaviness and continual sorrow in his heart,” and that he “could wish that himself were accursed from Christ for his brethren, his kinsmen according to the flesh.” Like Esther, his cry is, “How can I endure to see the destruction of my kindred?”—only his meaning covers the spiritual and the eternal, Esther’s only affecting this time-life.
But the really perfectly sublime of this condition or state is found only in the Master, who not only wished and desired the good of all, and lived promoting it, but actually died for us; gave life for life, the just for the unjust—redeemed us from the curse of the law by being made a curse for us. Oh for a love of race-kindred like that of Esther; for a love of country like that of David; for a love of souls like that of Christ!—Raleigh.

It was with great earnestness and evident marks of affection that Esther urged the king to interpose his authority to prevent the execution of the bloody decree. “She fell down at his feet, and besought him with tears.” We have here a bright example of female patriotism. At her first appearance we read of nothing of this kind. Then she was a party concerned,—and, with the dignity which became a queen, and one of an injured and innocent race, she pled her cause, and boldly arraigned the enemy and adversary. But now, her own life having been secured, she appears as an intercessor and advocate for others. Her whole soul was embarked in the cause which she had undertaken—very different from a man of law, or one who engages to act the part of his client for fee and reward. She “preferred Jerusalem above her chief joy.” When her own life was in danger she bent no knee, she shed no tear; but now she weeps and makes supplication, and refuses to rise from the ground unless her people are given at her request. To obtain this there is no humiliation to which she will not submit, no entreaty that she will not employ. She will not separate herself from her kindred, and, like the wife of Phinehas,* cannot think of surviving the destruction of her people. “For how,” she exclaims, “can I endure to see the evil that shall come unto my people, or how shall I endure to see the destruction of my kindred?”
The true patriot is ready to sacrifice everything for the public weal; he prefers public to personal interests, and would rather die than witness the desolations of the church of God and the ruin of his country. Such was the patriotism of Moses:—“Yet now, if thou wilt forgive their sin; and if not, blot me, I pray thee, out of thy book which thou hast written.”† And such was the patriotism of the New Testament Moses, the Apostle Paul: “I say the truth in Christ, I lie not, my conscience also bearing me witness in the Holy Ghost, that I have great heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart. For I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh;”‡—a passage, the beauty of which is not half seen unless it is compared with the close of the preceding chapter, in which we find the Apostle exulting in the love of God, and declaring his persuasion that nothing could separate him from Christ. “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors, through him that loved us.” But what all these things could not do, singly or together, his love for his brethren would have induced him to undergo. “For I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ (separated from his love) for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh.”—McCrie.

At no time was Esther more beautiful than when, with tearful eye, at the king’s feet, she besought him to pity her brethren. And no prayer of yours will be wafted more acceptably to the heavenly throne than that which, with thankfulness for good you have yourselves received, and pressing, tender desire for the good of others, you present for the salvation of those who will not and cannot pray for themselves.—Davidson.

It is a good sign, when we feel an interest in the welfare of those related to us, and when we can with importunity invoke the blessings of God upon them. Thus did Esther. She was not more earnest for herself than for her people. Thus did Jeremiah. “Oh that mine eyes were fountains of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of my people.” Thus felt Jesus. “When he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it.” Thus felt St. Paul. He poured out his very soul for his people, the Jews, though they persecuted him, and tried to effect his destruction. He tells us, that he “had great heaviness and continual sorrow in his heart” at their folly and wickedness in rejecting Christ, and that his “heart’s desire and prayer unto God for them was, that they might be saved.”

Brethren, are we thus minded? Esther fell down at the king’s feet for her people. Have you done so for your relatives and friends? She wept at the temporal ruin which was coming upon them. Have you wept at the eternal ruin to which your unbelieving friends are exposed? She said, “How can I endure to see the destruction of my kindred?” Have you said, “My parents are dark and careless, Oh what heaviness I have in my heart on account of their spiritual indifference! My children give no signs of grace. They ‘remember not their Creator in the days of their youth,’ all remonstrances, admonitions, and persuasions are lost upon them. They will have their own way,—‘How can I endure the destruction of my children?’ Lord, enlighten them; Lord, arrest them in their career of sin and folly. Make them, like Obadiah, ‘to fear God from their youth.’ Deliver them from youthful follies and vanities. Bring them to the Saviour, that they may be among thy ransomed ones for ever. ‘Oh that’ my children ‘might live before thee!’ ”—Hughes.

ILLUSTRATIONS TO CHAPTER 8

Esther 8:5. Ask and receive. Sir Walter Raleigh one day asking a favour from Queen Elizabeth, the latter said to him, “Raleigh, when will you leave off begging?” To which he answered, “When your Majesty leaves off giving.” Ask great things of God; expect great things from God; let his past goodness make us “instant in prayer.” Esther kept on begging till she had secured a position of security for her countrymen. So great was her earnestness that she besought even in tears. Not for herself, but for her country she now prayed to the king. She was an earnest and powerful intercessor. Not so powerful, however, as the great Intercessor; he is a more powerful Pleader, and he approaches a more powerful and more liberal King, even the King of heaven.

Esther 8:6. Patriotism. A Corsican gentleman, who had been taken prisoner by the Genoese, was thrown into a dark dungeon, where he was chained to the ground. While he was in this dismal situation, the Genoese sent a message to him, that if he would accept a commission in their service, he might have it. “No,” said he; “were I to accept your offer, it would be with a determined purpose to take the first opportunity of returning to the service of my country. But I would not have my countrymen even to suspect that I could be one moment unfaithful.” Esther in the same spirit asks, How can I endure to see the destruction of my kindred?

Patriot’s duty. When Burnet first began to grow eminent in his profession of the law, he went down to visit his father in Wiltshire. One day, as they were walking in the fields together, the father observed to him that men of his profession were apt to stretch the prerogative of the Crown too far, and injure liberty; but charged him, if he ever came to any eminence in his profession, never to sacrifice the laws and liberty of his country to his own interest or the will of his prince. He repeated this twice, and immediately fell into a fit of apoplexy, of which he died in a few hours; and this advice had so lasting an influence upon the son that he ever after observed and pursued it. Esther preferred the interests of her country before her own aggrandisement.

Spartan patriotism. A Lacedæmonian mother had five sons in a battle that was fought near Sparta, and, seeing a soldier that had left the scene of action, eagerly inquired of him how affairs went on. “All your five sons are slain,” said he. “Unhappy wretch!” replied the woman; “I ask thee not of what concerns my children, but of what concerns my country.” “As to that, all is well,” said the soldier. “Then,” said she, “let them mourn that are miserable. My country is prosperous, and I am happy.”

Esther wept over the sorrows of her country, and could not rest till she saw her countrymen delivered from impending dangers.

Disinterested loyalty. After the battle of Ivry, Henry IV. of France, being very much in want of money, asked one of his most trusty courtiers where he could procure some. The courtier mentioned a rich merchant’s wife, who was a zealous royalist. The monarch in disguise immediately accompanied his courtier on his visit to the lady, Madame le Clerc, who received them with great hospitality, and congratulated them on the success of the king’s arms. “Alas, madam,” replied the courtier, “to what purpose are all our victories? We are in the greatest distress imaginable. His Majesty has no money to pay his troops; they threaten to revolt and join the League. Mayenne will triumph at last.” “Is it possible?” exclaimed Madame le Clerc; “but I hope that will not afflict our sovereign, and that he will find new resources in the loyalty of his subjects.” She then quitted the room, but soon returned with several bags of gold, which she presented, saying, “This is all I can do at present. Go and relieve the king from his anxiety. I wish him all the success and happiness he deserves. Tell him to be confident that he reigns in the hearts of his subjects, and that my life and fortune are, and ever will be, at his disposal.” The king could no longer conceal his incognito. “Generous woman,” he cried, “my friend has no occasion to go far to tell his Majesty the excellence of your heart; here he stands before yon, and is a witness to it. Be assured that the favour will be indelibly engraven on the heart of your prince.” From that time success attended the king, and when he was master of the capital, and safely seated on the throne, he sent for Madame le Clerc, and, presenting her to a full and brilliant court, said, “You see this lady, who is a true friend of mine. To her I owe all the successes of my last campaigns. It was she who lent me money to carry on the war when the troops threatened to abandon me.”

Mordecai and Esther were loyal both to King Ashasuerus and to the race of the Jews. Haman’s fall was a blessing both to the king and to the nation. The extermination of the Jews would have been a great disaster.

Esther 8:5-6

5 And said, If it please the king, and if I have found favour in his sight, and the thing seem right before the king, and I be pleasing in his eyes, let it be written to reverse the letters devisedb by Haman the son of Hammedatha the Agagite, which he wrote to destroy the Jews which are in all the king's provinces:

6 For how can I endurec to see the evil that shall come unto my people? or how can I endure to see the destruction of my kindred?