The book of Esther brims with dangerous intrigue. Haman, a courtier consumed by greed, schemes to annihilate the Jewish people who live within the vast Persian realm. He persuades King Ahasuerus to issue an edict against “a certain hostile people,” seeking their destruction. Mordecai and Esther, both Jews, attempt to save their people. Queen Esther prays fervently to the God of Israel, asking for guidance. Her inspired exposure of Haman’s plot leads to his death.
Mordecai and Esther—outsiders in this kingdom yet trusted by Ahasuerus—become instruments of justice. Ahasuerus rescinds the edict; the Jewish people are protected.
The first time I heard the name “Haman” was in my friend Jill’s kitchen. Jill is Jewish, and I spent much of my adolescence in her home. Jill’s mom, Esther, always prepared culinary delights for the various feasts of the Jewish liturgical year. One day Esther was baking for Purim, the festival that commemorates the events recounted in the book of Esther. She handed me a cookie and told me that it was a hamantaschen. In rabbinic fashion, Esther said, “We might ask why we would commemorate such an evil man. The answer lies in God’s goodness, for we were delivered from Haman’s scheme. We remember the sweetness of that deliverance.”
Central to our way of faith is the practice of remembering. As I savored the sweet goodness of the hamantaschen in Esther’s kitchen, Esther stretched my memory back to the time of Queen Esther and Mordecai. She led me to see that life is full of those dire times when violence threatens. Esther remembered with me that God transforms despair to hope and death to life.