Esther - When One Person Becomes a People

I finished reading the book of Esther this morning. I struggle a little with Esther 9.

To their credit, the Jews didn’t take the spoils—the treasures and possessions of those they defeated. But they killed thousands of those who sought to destroy them. What seems strange to me is that there is almost no description of a battle. Even the wicked tend to value their lives. Surely they fought back. Right?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized the Jews had gathered together to defend themselves, and by then they had an enormous advantage. It was political.

Haman was dead. Mordecai was wearing the king’s ring. Esther was queen. A second decree allowed the Jews to organize and defend themselves, and government officials who might once have looked the other way were now actively supporting them.

The laws hadn’t just changed. The people in power had changed.

I won’t turn this into a political blog, but it is worth thinking about. We see laws and attitudes shift as different leaders take power. That helps me understand why the outcome in Esther 9 was so lopsided.

But my thoughts soon turned from that war to a much more personal one—the prejudice that can exist within us.

Maybe I shouldn’t assume everyone struggles with this, but I know I have.

Prejudice can be inherited almost like a family tradition. A child can be taught who is “us” and who is “them” long before that child is old enough to examine whether the distinction is true or fair. Eventually what was taught begins to feel like what was known.

And letting go can be terribly difficult because it may require more than changing an opinion. It can mean recognizing that people we loved and trusted taught us things that were wrong.

That brought me back to Haman.

Haman’s hatred begins with one man—Mordecai. But he isn’t satisfied with destroying Mordecai:

“Wherefore Haman sought to destroy all the Jews…” (Esther 3:6)

One person’s offense becomes an indictment of an entire people.

And that can become very personal. One person’s behavior, appearance, circumstances, race, religion, weight, education—or any number of other things—can become our indictment of everyone who looks or lives like that person.

Haman’s thinking followed a frighteningly simple path:

Mordecai did something I hate → Mordecai is a Jew → therefore Jews are people I hate.

Perhaps Esther 9 shows us the terrible end of that progression. Even after Haman is gone, the hatred he cultivated—or perhaps simply tapped into—isn’t gone with him.

A decree can be reversed in a day.

Hatred taught to the heart may take generations to undo.