Welcome to the CommonsCast. We're glad to have you here. We hope you find something meaningful in our teaching this week. Head to commons.church for more information.

Well, hello, hello. If we haven't met, my name is Bobbie, and I am so glad that you are here. Happy Mother's Day. And also, my mom's name is Linda, and she teaches me all about open handed love. You know, the real generous kind with no strings attached.

I love you, mom. If Mother's Day is more fraught for you, let me say, I'm sorry. It might feel like these hallmark holidays come back like a punch in the face every year. I myself am not a mother, but there are creative ways I happily practice mothering without children of my own. I mother as an auntie.

I mother as a friend. I mother as a pastor. I mother as a colleague. I mother as a wife. Wait, no, that's actually called nagging.

I'm never not working on that. And you can tap into the depth of mothering as a spiritual practice when you share God's protective, parental, and ever patient love in the lives of others. So mother on. Today is the final installment in our series, My Queen. Sad tear.

I have loved leading this series, and I am so grateful for Scott's presence in it last week on Esters four, five, and six. I mean, the way that Scott painted a picture of Esther as the epitome of power and a foil to self centered power in Xerxes. That was so good. Right? And if you are just jumping into the series now, well, let's tackle a great big story recap.

Esther takes place in the Persian Empire, and we jump into a scene where the king is, well, he is a fool. At a party where everyone has been drinking for days and days, the king demands that his queen, Vashti, parade in front of his guests. And she says, oh, no. That is not going to happen. And in turn, she is banished.

The search for a new queen is underway. The lens of the story swings to the home of a Jewish man, Mordecai, who is guardian of his beautiful and charming cousin, Esther. And Mordecai has some profile in the capital, but still not enough to keep his people from harm. By entering Esther in an exhaustive beauty contest, he's banking on a way to keep danger at bay. Enter our villain, Haman.

Boo Haman, the sworn enemy of Mordecai, at least in part on account of an ancient family history. And Haman's got it out for Jewish people and plots to have them all killed. It can be hard to handle so much hate, but Mordecai and Esther, they get to work. Esther invites Haman and Xerxes to a banquet, then she does it again. Just before the second banquet, Haman gets it in his hate, hating heart that he should set up a 23 meter pole to impale Mordecai on.

And that very night, the king remembers that Mordecai had actually saved his life and so should be rewarded. When Haman arrives to make known his plot to impale Morty, the king asks Haman, what should I do to honor a man who truly pleases me? And Haman thinks, ah, mate, that's me. And says to Xerxes, dress your favorite guy like a king. Just as Haman is sloughing off his old coat to robe as if he were a king, Xerxes says, yes.

Let us put a royal robe on Mordecai. Gasp. It's an uproarious reversal. Now, the book of Esther is a bit of an ugly duckling. You won't find soaring prayers or tabernacle scenes or clear cut virtue.

But what you will find is a story about the opulence of empty power, the exchange of limitation and expansion, the poison of human hate, the craft of survival, the celebration of hard fought identity. And that, folks, that was your whole series outline. Today, we bite off Esther seven to 10, so prepare yourself. This book ends as preposterously as it begins. So here's your outline for today.

Part one, alternative endings. Part two, do overs. Part three, revenge fantasy. And part four, party like its Purim. Before we get rolling, take a deep breath and let us pray.

The Persian poet Rumi wrote, God is manifest among fellow humans as the moon shines among stars. God, our mother. Sometimes we cry out to you thinking you are so far away. And that's fine. You welcome those prayers.

Maybe today we can trust even just a little bit that where you seem hidden, you might be more like the moonlight. What glow, what guidance. For those who feel restless, who hold longing and pain, whose minds are full of worry. Christ, be near. And spirit, as we wrap up Esther, open us to just one idea that we can internalize and use to expand our minds about divine mystery.

And we pray together. Amen. Okay. Esther chapter seven. Esther petitions King Xerxes at another banquet and Haman is there too, revealing for the first time to the king that she is Jewish.

And Esther implores, if I have found favor with you, spare my people for there is someone in your court who has a plan to kill us all. And the king says, who is behind the plan? And she points to Haman and says, this vile Haman. And I love that translation of the Hebrew word ra for evil. It's such a great line.

The king is enraged by the news and takes a walk in the garden to cool down. And while he's gone, Haman falls before Esther to beg for his life. I imagine him blubbering, oh, no. No. No.

I would never hurt you. Spare me. And at that moment, the king walks in and comedically or horrifically thinks that Haman is making a dirtbag move on the queen. And in verse eight, the king cries out, will you even molest the queen while she is with me in my house? Now I favor the interpretation here that the king isn't actually all that concerned with Esther's honor, but more concerned with how to get out of a bind.

Xerxes can punish Haman for assaulting the queen and Xerxes can dodge his own culpability as the one who signed off on the plan to kill her people. And so Haman's face is covered and the eunuch Harbona suggests that they use Haman's own torture device intended for Mordecai. And Haman is impaled. And if you're looking for a happy ending, I guess that's one version. The story in chapter seven is the denouement of Esther, the first of the falling actions.

And as we approach the end, I want to tell you about Esther's alternative endings. If you study the scriptures long enough, you'll grow accustomed to language about redactors or folks in centuries past who edited small passages and whole documents. And that shouldn't surprise you too much. The Bible is collection of books that God formed through human hands. Like you, it took years for the Bible to grow up.

And even so, it is not perfect. There are lost letters. There are strange ly pieced together sections. There are awkward postscripts, which doesn't make me love it less. I actually love it more.

So here's what's up with Esther. After some time, people are pretty uncomfortable with the fact that Esther doesn't mention God or ritual observance like eating kosher and staying pure. In fact, it mentions the opposite. You know it by now. Drinking, sex, lying, revenge, murder.

And eventually people say, let's shine this story up a bit. And we refer to these added pieces of Esther as the Greek additions. There are six extended passages numbered as chapters 11 to 16. Where there's no mention of God in the Hebrew, the Greek editions add God's name to the text 50 times. Like 50 times.

They add prayers, a mention of the altar in Jerusalem, Esther expressing how much she despises being married to a Gentile and the spirit of God changing the heart of the king. As far as we can tell from style and theology the Greek editions come much later than the original sometime in the second or first centuries BCE. So why do I tell you about these editions? Well, there's something here for us. It is so tempting to rewrite stories we cannot control.

It's hard and scary to face the fact that we live, as theologian Carter Hayward wrote, as participants in an unfinished, imperfect creation, an incomplete creation that requires us to embody revolutionary patience with one another and ourselves and with God. You can rewrite your story with references to God all over it. That's fine. Have at it. I'm not saying that's bad.

I'm just saying you don't have to. You can look back on your story or around it where you are right now and say, I have no idea where God has been. Or like, I hope I'm on the right track, but let's be honest, I have no idea. Or I'm not sure I'll ever have mountain moving faith. You can change how you interpret the details of your life, but you never have to overdo it with God talk.

Esther, without the mention of the divine is sacred. The book and the Bible belongs to our spiritual tradition, even without addition smoothing out the rough patches or rushing us to neater conclusions. This is a story which feels perfect for life in a pandemic. It keeps giving us more rope to simply notice how scary life can be. Okay.

Next, Esther and Mordecai implement a do over law to save their people. So King Xerxes gives Queen Esther Haman's estate. Ka ching. And Esther, like Xerxes had done putting Haman in charge, puts Mordecai in charge of this estate. Here's the thing though.

Esther and her people are not out of the woods. The threat against them has not been dissolved. So Esther falls before Xerxes and pleads for her people. And Xerxes replies saying in eight verse eight, now write another decree in the king's name in behalf of the Jews as seems best to you and seal it with the king's signet ring. For no document written in the king's name and sealed with his ring can be revoked.

Mordecai shapes the message and asserts that his people have every right to kill, destroy, and annihilate anyone who comes at them to do them harm. In the final scene of chapter eight, Mordecai is elevated as if he were king. He parades through the city, and the people erupt with joyous celebration. The Jews were told share in a time of happiness and joy, gladness and honor, reversing all the grief they had known before. Now, how are you feeling about this part of the story?

Are you uncomfortable? Are you like, hold up. So you're telling me Mordecai is going to do to others what he doesn't want done to him? Yeah. That's what's happening.

And one scholar calls this measure for measure retaliation. The words of Mordecai's plan in chapter eight are almost identical to the words of Haman's plan in chapters three and four, only now they've switched places. But you should know that the empire would never allow such retaliatory action by a minority group, as if a king would say, like, great plan. Go ahead and slaughter my citizens. It wouldn't happen.

So the concern is not history, but one of theology. As a sacred text, what does this part of the story, the doing of violence to address violence, say about God? There are times when we opt for retributive justice and we believe with all our hearts that God wants that too. Punish him like he punished me. Kill the one who killed her.

Hurt them like they hurt us. This picture of Mordecai making a law and setting into motion another kind of slaughter is an accurate picture of the cycle of revenge. And even here, we can find something of God. Now I wanna take a moment to talk about aggression. Do a little check-in with me.

Like on a scale of one to ten, one being least aggressive and 10 being most, how aggressive have you been in your life to get what you want? Just go with your gut. Don't overthink it. What number comes up for you? Notice that.

I love the academic work of Kathleen Greeter on aggression and the construction of justice. She makes the point that aggression is a part of human createdness. It's not in and of itself bad. Another thing Greeder says is that aggression has been made elusive. We have banished aggression to the depths of psyche.

And think about it, how often have you had a horrible dream, a dream that is violent and kind of sickening, and you wake up from it with a cold sweat and you think, on earth did that come from in me? I've been there. Here's the deal with aggression. It is a feature of our drive to survive and thrive. You fight for fairness.

You yell to be heard. You punch to defend. You swear to release. You wrestle to change. And that's what Esther is here for.

Not that God blesses our violence or that our aggression when used to tear others apart is holy. No. Our aggression is worthy to be brought to the surface and to look at and to learn from. Maybe even do what Esther and Mordecai did, leverage power to set people free. Now, let's turn back to the story, the messy revenge fantasy waiting for us to send us on our merry way.

Chapter nine. Nine months later, the edict is ready to be carried out. Verses two and four. The Jews assembled in their cities in all the provinces of King Xerxes to attack those determined to destroy them. No one could stand against them because the people of all the other nationalities were afraid of them.

Mordecai was prominent in the palace, his reputation spread throughout the provinces and he became and more powerful. Then we have a whole pile of violence. Mordecai's people kill and it goes on for two days. On the first day, they kill 500 nameless men in the citadel and each of Haman's 10 sons, all named one after the other in the text. When the king asks Esther what else she wants, she says, I'd like for my people to do it all again tomorrow.

Only let's impale Haman's sons already dead on poles. And on the second day, 300 men in Susa are killed. 75,000 others are killed in other provinces. After everything, the people walk away without plunder and celebrate that it's all over. Now, it's no surprise to you that these verses are hard for interpreters to deal with.

While I approve of your own repulsion to this kind of vengeful violence, our level of discomfort here misses the point. Keep in mind, always keep in mind the kind of story Esther is. It's not laying out facts. It's not writing pages of history or giving you rules for conflict. Instead, Esther uses the power of imagination to tell us, even without mentioning God, something sacred.

You need to find a way to release the parts of your story that are bound in pain. After being torn from their land, separated from their families, made to live as slaves over and over and over again, the Jewish people in diaspora find a way to thrive. This text is essential to that resilience. Through farce, through carnival, through laughable exaggeration, the story of Esther and Mordecai coming to power, switching places with their enemy, and then using their power to destroy everything that tried to destroy them, that's the reversal of death to life. So maybe the violent bloodbath isn't for you, but what kind of fantasy could be?

Estera Perel, speaking of fantasy in her book Mating in Captivity, says, Fantasies, sexual and other, also have nearly magical powers to heal and renew. They return the breasts confiscated by mastectomy or let us walk as we did before the crippling accident. Fantasies reverse time, making us young again, and briefly allow us to be as we no longer are and maybe never were, flawless, strong, beautiful. As Derek goes on to say, Through fantasy we repair, compensate, and transform. For a few moments, we rise above the reality of life and subsequently, the reality of death.

Now if you're like me, you picked up messages along the way that you were supposed to fear and avoid fantasy. Give me the facts. Get your head out of the clouds. Stop pretending. Truth is black and white.

Don't you dare daydream like that. But prepare yourself. The invitation of Esther goes more like this. What do you wish could happen to that person who hurt you? What weird fantasy, you don't even have to admit it to anyone, gives you the power that you dream of?

What can you imagine yourself doing to get back at the one who betrayed Or, well, and how would you seek revenge on a pandemic that has stolen so much? What harm would you like to make rain down from heaven on the racism that continues to kill and harm black and brown bodies? What havoc would you wreak on the disregard for climate change as it challenges our hope for future generations? Scholar Adele Berlin puts Esther's revenge fantasy like this. The function of farcical fantasies in dreams or in plays is not as provocation but as compensation.

And I love the image here. She writes, The violent release is comparable to the sudden relieving hiss of steam from a safety valve. Maybe the best way to take revenge is to imagine it and then let it go. Celebrate the fact that you are making it through an awful time. And soon, you will be ready to party like it's Purim.

The book of Esther ends with the etiology of the Jewish festival Purim, chapters nine verses 29 to a bit of 31. So Queen Esther, daughter of Abihal, along with Mordecai the Jew, wrote with full authority to confirm this second letter concerning Purim. And Mordecai sent letters to all the Jews in the 127 provinces of Exercise's kingdom, words of goodwill and assurance to establish these days of Purim. Now maybe you remember this detail and maybe you don't, but Pur, p u r, are the lots Haman cast to determine what day to slaughter Mordecai's people. And you know what this sneaky little book does with that ghastly symbol?

Appropriates it to mean party. That thing that thing you tried to kill me with? Well, I took it. And now it's mine. You meant it for destruction.

I mean it for celebration. There's one more chapter after this one. Chapter 10. Just three verse long. And I'm sad to tell you this, but Esther is not even in it.

We end with the scene of the king and Mordecai holding tremendous amounts of power. And so this is where we end story too. These characters fade away. Goodbye, silly Xerxes. I'll miss you, Vashti.

Haman, Boo, Mordecai, you tricky guy, and Esther, my queen. All of them fade away. But Purim Purim is still celebrated. It's not a Christian festival. It belongs to Jewish communities.

And every year, they read this story front to back to remember threat and exile, oppression, genocide, holocaust, and also survival, humor, identity, celebration, and faith. Now, I've gone on and on about how God is not on the page in Esther. But maybe I'm not quite right about that. I mean, how can your survival not include God? How can your healing leave God out of it?

How can your imagination not be divinely creative and so cool? How can spirit not hover over us when we are a pool of darkness? How can God, the God of life, not be at the center of a party that you throw because, well, you're still here. I know it feels like God is not present sometimes. I know you have felt alone trying to survive.

I know the stuckness feels unbearable. But listen to me. Listen closely. Esther is ancient Israel surviving blow after blow. And Esther?

Esther is you. No matter what gets written about you in the end or left out, you are made for such a time as this. So center, love and loyalty. Do the best with what you're given, and celebrate every single win. God will be with you.

Maybe you'll never talk about it, or understand how it is so, or sense divine nearness all of the time. But who gives you that brain, that beauty, that breath? Yeah, that's what I thought. Let us pray. Loving God, we thank you for the story of Esther.

Such a story is this to draw us into perhaps some shadowy parts of our humanity and to find even there, even where we didn't expect it, your persistent life affirming presence. Christ our teacher and our friend remind us of resurrection life poking up from the dirt even as we grieve. Spirit of the living God, present with us now. Enter the places of betrayal and fear and unsettling loss and heal us of all that harms us. Amen.