Worship, Sun 29 July: Esther - 'For such a time as this'

We were nothing, if not ambitious in worship this week:
attempting to cover the story of Esther in one snapshot-style service!
To do it, we wove 2 reflections [from the point of view of Esther and Mordecai], and a brief homily through 4 sets of readings from the Book of Esther.
It's one of those books in the Bible that can sometimes get overlooked -
and, also [useful for pub quiz/ trivia evenings] one of only two books not to directly mention God [the other is Song of Songs].

Well done to our valiant reader this morning - not easy passages to get through,
with all of those challenging names!
Our readings from the Book of Esther were:
Esther 1:1-5, 9-12, 15-20;
Esther 2:1-9, 17-18; 3:8-14;
Esther 4:1-8, 12-17;
Esther 7.1–6, 9–10, 9.20–22, 32

The short homily picked up the sense of the challenging and precarious time
in which Esther and the Jewish people living within the Persian Empire found themselves,
and wondered about how to best use power, position, and privilege.
Each age has its own variation on 'such a time as this.'
As God's people, what do we do 'in such a time as this',
as we look back to the example of Esther,
and as we look around us, within our present?
In this, Martin Luther King's challenging words are still prescient:
“Cowardice asks the question is it safe?
Expediency asks is it politic? 
Vanity asks is it popular? 
But conscience asks is it right? 
And there comes a time when we must take a position that is 
neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but because it is right.”

The first reflection, based on Esther's point of view, was written by Dee Yates:
ESTHER REMEMBERS ...
It’s a dangerous world out there.
If I had my way, I'd sit still and keep quiet; keep my head down.
I know we Jews have been here for a hundred years or more
but is it safer now than it was when we arrived?
Thanks to cousin Mordecai, my life is a whole lot better than it might have been.
He took me in after my parents died.
I thought that he would want to marry me when I was of age –
he was always
singing my praises to the neighbours – but he didn't.
Unfortunately he had other ideas for me.
Mordecai found out that the king had decided to look for another wife.
He had divorced his beautiful queen, Vashti,
because she'd refused to join him and his guests at a banquet.
Whether she gave any reason for her refusal, I don’t know,
though these occasions can get a bit rowdy when the wine's flowing.
Then Mordecai came home one night and said that the court was asking for beautiful girls
to be given beauty treatment and then presented to the king,
so he could chose one to become his next wife.
He said I should go.
He said I should not reveal that I was a Jew.
If I kept quiet, he said,
if I was chosen by the king, I would be safe.
It doesn't feel safe.
One wrong move and I could be like Queen Vashti - or worse.
Mordecai told me that two of the palace officials were plotting to kill the king.
I reported it to his majesty, giving Mordecai the credit.
That turned out all to the good.
But next, my cousin fell out with Haman, the king's favourite
and Haman, finding out that my cousin was a Jew, decided to wreak revenge
by asking the king to give permission for all the Jews in the kingdom
to be slaughtered for disobeying the laws.
And the king agreed.
Mordecai was horrified - and then said I must go to the king and beg for mercy.
Me! I could have been put to death for speaking out of order.
But it was do or die - and perhaps die anyway.
So I impressed my husband by dressing to kill
- if you see what I mean -
and ordering a lavish banquet two days in a row.
Then, quaking in my shoes and sick to the core, I told him of Haman's plot to murder the Jews.
And the king responded by giving the Jews protection
and hanging Haman on the gallows that the wretch had built for my cousin.
He made Mordecai second in rank to the king himself and held him in high esteem
because 'he spoke up for the welfare of the Jews.'
If I recall the facts aright, it was I that spoke up for the welfare of the Jews, not him.
But no matter.
I'm still here.
And I'm glad that I had the courage to speak up.
What would have happened if I had kept quiet?
It might have changed the whole course of history - and not for the better.
                                                                                                                      ©Dee Yates

‘MORDECAI REFLECTS’
They were powerful.
Strong.
All-conquering.
Their empire was vast and mighty,
their wealth, unfathomable.
They had crushed other nations underfoot.
They had crushed my nation utterly
and taken my family into exile.
Strangers in a strange land,
but eventually, settling,
learning language and custom,
but never forgetting home,
never forgetting the God of their ancestors.
I had known little else but exile.
Every day, face to face with the brilliance
and wonder and power of Babylon,
I accepted my lot,
and knew they would rule forever.
But they didn’t.
The mighty Babylon fell,
crushed under a newer, greater empire:
it was the time of the Persians.
The great Babylon was a mere plaything
compared to their greatness:
their power reached around the known world
and other nations fell before them.
With so much change, how could I not look after wee Esther –
she had no living family but me.
As the years turned, so, she became as a daughter to me:
I vowed to do my best for her.
It's odd, how life can turn in the spin of a shekel.
The old queen had been banished,
the King had been preoccupied with war,
but now, home, he felt the need of a queen once more.
A series of strange events,
a beauty pageant of sorts,
and then, presto, my lovely Esther
moved from obscurity to the Palace.
But we had enemies.
I urged her to be wise,
not draw attention to her heritage,
and use her power for good.
It was me, however, who found trouble,
earning the anger of the King’s advisor, Haman.
Hatred, vanity, and ambition make for a dangerous combination:
pointing my people out,
putting us down,
telling lies about us,
he stirred up seeds of distrust and discord –
better to get rid of us,
than face any potential disaster we might bring.
Tricking the King,
a decree went throughout the whole empire,
calling for the extermination of my people.
But, what of my lovely Esther?
There in the centre of power and conspiracy,
how would she fare?
And would she dare to use the little power
she had, to save us all?
She was brave...
but I just didn’t know...
                                  ©Nik Mac