St. Pat’s Book Club, Esther and destiny
I love this depiction by Francois-Leon Benouville. Esther seems troubled by something. Perhaps the challenge to fulfill her destiny?
As we close out our first book club series, we come to the phenomenal story of Esther. As Irene Nowell tells us, there were two versions written, the shorter Hebrew version that doesn’t seem to acknowledge God’s presence, and a later Greek version that injected the presence of God.
Why do you think the original version didn’t include God?
What was the author thinking?
What would be the purpose for excluding God?
When I studied Esther in my fourth year of bible study with the Archdiocese, we didn’t spend enough time on this issue, and I was a little disappointed about that. It troubled me that someone would be inspired to write this story explaining the celebration of the holiday of Purim, and not choose to include the source of the inspiration. To quote a contemporary phrase, “What’s that all about?”
For me, the answer can be found in one of the key turning points in the story, when Esther’s uncle Mordecai pleads for her to petition King Ahasuerus to overturn his decree that will wipe out the Jewish people. Initially, Esther throws up an excuse that expresses her fear that the king will punish her with death for disobedience, like he did with her predecessor, Queen Vashti.
But then, Mordecai challenges his niece to ponder whether or not her life had always been leading up to this very moment.
When Esther’s words were reported to Mordecai, he had this reply brought to her: “Do not imagine that you are safe in the king’s palace, you alone of all the Jews. Even if you now remain silent, relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another source;but you and your father’s house will perish. Who knows—perhaps it was for a time like this that you became queen?” (Judith 4:13-14)
Esther is a very lucky woman having won that extravagant contest to replace Queen Vashti. Was her success only so that she could live a lush life in the harem of King Ahasuerus? As Mordecai points out, Esther’s Jewishness may not remain hidden from the King (if it isn’t already known), and as such she might find herself to be the predecessor all the pretty virgins speak about at the next beauty contest.
Esther girds up her courage and decides to take action. She first strips off her pretty garments and other adornments (notice the contrast to how women of the Old Testament used clothing, perfume and other accessories to attract and distract others) and prays fervently to her Lord for courage and strength and guidance.
The rest, as they say, is history. The decree is overturned and Haman, once the powerful and trusted second in command, is defeated. Even his sons lives are taken in order to reduce the possibility of revenge. Esther has taken up God’s challenge for her role in history, and met it.
What do you think about your life and what God calls you to be and to do? Do you ever spend much time thinking what it is God wants from you? Irene Nowell poses that perhaps Esther came into a fuller appreciation of herself and her faith through this hardship. Esther places God rightly at the center of her being, and the meaning of her existence. As we know from the first Commandment handed down by Moses, we are called to love God first and base our actions and words around his desires for us.
So perhaps the original Hebrew author left out God because he had an immature faith. Or maybe he left God out so his readers would be drawn to the question “Where is God?” If the latter, I applaud the author for offering such a brazen challenge. I also applaud Esther for her humanity, her initial lack of courage, her growing into her faith. That is very human and I can empathize with her struggle. How about you?
A very Happy and Prosperous New Year to all.
Psalms 1, Trust and Confidence in Salvation
On Thursday, our class dug deep into the Psalms of Trust and Confidence. We started with perhaps the most familiar, and in many eyes the most beautiful — Psalm 23.
A psalm of David.
The LORD is my shepherd; there is nothing I lack.
In green pastures he makes me lie down; to still waters he leads me; he restores my soul.
He guides me along right paths for the sake of his name.
We’ve talked repeatedly throughout this study about how beautiful the psalms are. The poetry of this week’s Psalms (23, 11, 27, 63 & 16) at times left us breathless. Their use of images and language to draw us closer to God, to assure our hearts that he is with us always, brought me great peace and a sense of the order the Lord seeks to create for us in this world.
Psalm 23 and its references to a shepherd naturally lead us to images of Christ settling our souls.
We see Christ and the Church at work throughout Psalm 23. When we read “You set a table before me,” we taste the Eucharist at Sunday mass. When the Lord anoints the Psalmist’s head with oil, we see Confirmation, or the Initiation ceremony at Easter Vigil. The safe waters where our strength is restored are the waters of Baptism. When we pray this Psalm intimately, we are in deepest communion with God. We will dwell in the house of the Lord for years to come.
The sense of the constant, eternal and lasting signs of God’s presence with us are so strong in these Psalms. They may have been written 2500-3000 years ago, but they have always been present to humans throughout the ages.
Look at how Mark uses Psalm 23 in his version of the Multiplication of the Loaves. Patrick Henry Reardon, in his book Christ in the Psalms, points out that when Christ and the disciples find the multitudes before them, they are in a desert, a deserted place. But when he tells the Apostles to instruct the thousands (“like sheep without a shepherd“) to sit down in small groups, they lie down in the “green grass” of Psalm 23.
Just as we found Christ in Psalm 1 with Sister Salvador, and as we found Him in the opening Psalm-like hymn of John’s Gospel, we find Him here again in Psalm 23. He was and is always with us, always our savior. In Psalm 27, he is the Lord “of light and my salvation.” (As Pat pointed out, the Septuagint trades the word Salvation for Savior.)
But while the Lord and his love are timeless, the Psalms remind us our lives on this earth are not. This finite nature of our human existence is one of the greatest challenges in forming and holding our covenant with God. The Psalms of Trust and Confidence pose this question: Do we pursue God because we fear death and seek an everlasting life? Is that the basis of our worship? The Psalms of Trust and Confidence ask us to consider deeply before answering.
The New American version of Psalm 16 tells us that God will show us the path to life and “the delights at your right hand forever.” Is this worship for the purpose of resurrection? The Septuagint, the original Greek version of the Bible, uses different words. It reads “the delights at your right hand to the end.” (Thank you again Pat for leading us to this.)
Nancy remarked how she felt that seeking God’s love was not a kind of “waiting game,” but that God through these Psalms begs our hearts to love him here and now, every day, as deeply as we can.
Sheol, a place of total absence from God, is depicted throughout the Old Testament in different forms. In Jonah 2, the belly of the whale removes Jonah from his God.
The worshippers of other gods depicted in these verses are accursed. “They multiply their sorrows who court other gods.” (Psalm 16:4) Thursday night, when I read this in class, the image of humans choosing to not worship the one and only God made me realize they were choosing to distance themselves from God’s love. Instead of death/sheol forcing separation from God on these worshippers, they actively chose to spend their lives absent from God. They choose to live their lives in a state of death. Talk about a zombie apocalypse!
We need to reject that kind of worship, and Psalm 27 shows us the way. The Psalmist writes: “Come,” says my heart, “seek God’s face.” (Psalm 27:8) For the Jews, that voice would have been a scary proposition. Only Moses saw God face-to-face. The Psalmist appears to be willing to risk his own death to see God.
I also see great meaning in the fact that the Psalmist says it is his heart that calls to him, not his head. I think when we intellectualize our love for God too much, we move away from the true source of a lasting covenant.
God is Love, and Love exists not in the head, but in the heart. We cannot understand it. I don’t know why as a father I love my children so much. I couldn’t explain it “rationally” to you. I just know that I do love them, and it is perhaps the most powerful emotion I feel. If I tried to explain it to you by reason (“I love my children because I share DNA with them.” OR “I love my children because I’ve raised them since birth.”) it falls far short of the essence of my love for them. I cannot explain that essence.
For me, that same “love” is the essence of God’s love for us and us for Him. I know what it feels like. It is there for me in some tangible intangible way that exists in the tension between our world and something else far beyond my comprehension. But I have the trust and confidence that it is real. God’s love exists. And He will not abandon me. This for me is the power of the Psalms. “For your love is better than life; my lips shall ever praise you!” (Psalm 63:4)
We’ve also started a new tradition with this class. Every Thursday night, we are going to ask someone to read one of the Psalms from their Bible. Nancy pointed out the richness of the different translations we all have, and how they lead us to revelations that the New American and other traditional modern Catholic Bibles don’t share. As you read this week’s text (Pages 43-54), please consider reading for us from your Bible. Send me an e-mail in advance, and let me know which Psalm has meant something to you. We’ll listen to God’s words that evening through you.
Richard D'Ambrosio
Pathways 