Robert
Lyon is a retired clergyman who divides his time between
Guelph, Ontario and Melaque, Mexico. He taught high school
English, Latin, Greek and science, and served as an officer
in the Canadian Armed Forces Reserve, retiring in the rank
of Lieutenant-Colonel. His latest book, Don’t
Throw Out Your Bible, from which the essay below is
excerpted, is now in print. This article first appeared
in New
English Review.
For
the past few months I’ve been listening each night before
bed to Sir David (Poirot) Suchet’s brilliant reading
of the Bible in the New International Version. I was halfway
through the book of Esther when news broke of Hamas’
recent terrorist assault on over 900 Israelis attending an
outdoor concert. The coincidence of the news and the reading
was so uncanny that one might be tempted to see in it some
divine intent. That night I understood the book of Esther
as I never had before.
Many scholars, though certainly not all, regard the story
of Esther not as history but as pious fiction. I don’t
know whether they’re right or wrong. But I do know,
as Aristotle taught, that history tells us what was true at
one place and time, but fiction tells us what is true in every
place and time. Hearing Sucher read Esther that night, I understood
how poignantly Esther’s story is true in every place
and time.
When Xerxes, King of the Persian Empire, selected young Esther
to replace his deposed queen, Esther had not yet revealed
that she was a Jew. But when Haman, the king’s chief
advisor, devised a plot to exterminate all Jews because, as
he alleged, they had strange and dangerous customs and would
not bow down to him, Esther appealed to the king. Haman was
removed and a royal decree was issued that the Jews should
forever have the right to defend themselves against all who
hate them. They did so with great success, and they proved
to be a blessing to Xerxes’ empire.
Haman
is gone, but his hatred of Jews has continued down to the
present day. As likewise has their right to defend themselves.
The
problem in dealing with Haman’s kind of hate, which
explicitly calls for the destruction of Israel, is that it
leaves no room for negotiation. And it treats moderation as
a breathing space to organize the next jihad. Suddenly I understood
the “herem,” the condition of enemies being devoted
to destruction that you find in the Bible from Joshua through
to the establishment of the Jewish kingdom. I understood the
compelling rationale for such seemingly unconscionable decrees
as the slaughter of the Amalekites.
A
curious thing about the book of Esther is that the Name of
God does not appear anywhere in the narrative. Well, that’s
almost true, but not quite. The sacred Name, Yod He Vav He,
does in fact appear four times, but it is embedded in the
text, typically overlapping two adjacent words. In two instances,
it reads from right to left, and in two from left to right.
What might that mean?
Remember
that the book of Esther was written either during or shortly
after the Babylonian Exile of 597 to 537 BC. It was written
for a Jewish audience who must have wondered where God was
in such an event and what on earth he was doing. The embedded
sacred Name seems to imply that God was and is at work behind
the scenes – “playing his checkers” as A.
W. Tozer would say – and that he has a grip on his people
whether they’re coming or going. It dignifies their
faith that God will keep his promise to Abraham: “I
will bless those who bless you, and I will curse him who curses
you; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed”
(Genesis 12:3).
Lord
Suchet’s character Poirot, the nemesis of bad guys,
might relish such a plot, if it were not so horribly real-life.
A
note from Robert Lyon:
At last Don’t Throw Out Your Bible has
gone to press. But I’ll be pleased to send a free
PDF copy to any Arts and Opinion subscriber who
provides an e-mail address. And for good measure I’ll
include a copy of A Christmas You Can Believe In.
I promise not to distribute your address, nor to pester
you with further notifications (until I write another
book), and I’ll even delete your address if you
so request. To order, click on the link = graphikos@graphikos.ca
Please put DTOYB in your subject line. BTW, you’re
welcome to print what I send you, but not for commercial
purposes.
