Stairway to Heaven

 

Stairway to Heaven

Stairway to Heaven - Audio/Visual 

Then Jesus directed them to have all the people sit down in groups on the green grass. So they sat down in groups of hundreds and fifties. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to his disciples to distribute to the people. He also divided the two fish among them all. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces of bread and fish. The number of the men who had eaten was five thousand.

Immediately Jesus made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. After leaving them, he went up on a mountainside to pray. (Mark 6:39-46)

New Mexico is called the “Land of Enchantment.” And in this land of enchantment, there’s a chapel of wonder.

On the corner of Water Street and Old Santa Fe Trail, you’ll find Loretto Chapel. And if you were to step through its iron gate, you’d enter more than just a chapel courtyard. You’d enter another era. The chapel was completed in 1878, during a time when settlers stomped through muddy streets, donkeys brayed and wagon wheels groaned while the early morning sun spotlighted the gothic chapel as it sat against the backdrop of Santa Fe’s desert hills.

Loretto Chapel took five years to complete. Modeled after the Sainte-Chapelle in Paris, its delicate sanctuary contains an altar, a rose window and a choir loft. The choir loft is the reason for its wonder, because if you were to have stood in that newly-built chapel in 1878 you might have seen the Sisters of Loretto looking forlornly at the balcony. Everything had been completed: the doors had been hung, the pews had been placed and the floor had been laid. Everything was finished, even the choir loft. Well, almost everything was finished. The only thing left unfinished were the stairs leading up to the loft; they didn’t exist.

The architect had died suddenly during the chapel’s construction, and it was only after much of the chapel had already been completed that the builders realized – far too late – that it was lacking any type of stairway to the loft. Unfortunately, the chapel was too small to accommodate a conventional stairway. The best builders and designers in the region had been summoned and simply shook their heads when consulted. “Impossible,” they murmured. The problem? There simply wasn’t enough room for stairs. A ladder could have served the purpose, but a ladder would have marred the ambiance. A ladder also presented a trip-and-fall hazard to the nuns who would have been forced to scale it with their long habits.

The Sisters of Loretto, whose determination had led them from Kentucky to Santa Fe, now faced a challenge greater than their journey: a stairway that couldn’t be built. What they had dreamed of, and what they could do were separated by twenty impossible feet.

So what did they do? Well, they did the only thing they could do. They ascended the mountain, but not the mountains near Santa Fe. They climbed an even higher mountain. They climbed the same mountain that Jesus climbed 1,800 years earlier in Bethsaida. They climbed the mountain of prayer.

“He went up on a mountainside by himself to pray.” (Mark 6:46)

Jesus faced an impossible task that day. More than five thousand people were ready to fight a battle he had not come to fight. How could he show them that he didn’t come to be a king, but to be a sacrifice? How could he take their eyes off an earthly kingdom so that they would see the spiritual one? How could they see the eternal when they only had eyes for the temporal? What Jesus dreamed of doing, and what he seemed able to do, were separated by an impossible gulf. So, Jesus prayed.

The Bible doesn’t tell us what he prayed about. Maybe he prayed that the eyes that had been blinded by power could see God’s truth; or that his disciples, dizzied by success, could endure failure; or that leaders longing for power would follow him to a cross; or that the people desiring bread for the body would hunger for the bread of the soul. He prayed for the impossible to happen.

Then again, maybe not. Maybe he didn’t ask for anything. Maybe he just stood quietly in the presence of the Presence and basked in the Majesty. Perhaps he placed his war-weary self before the throne and simply rested. Maybe he lifted his head out of the confusion of earth long enough to hear the solution of heaven. Perhaps he was reminded that hard hearts don’t faze the Father; that problem people don’t perturb the Creator. We don’t know what he did, or what he said, but we do know the result. The hill from which he prayed that evening became a stepping-stone, and the ensuing storm that night became a path that allowed the disciples to see Jesus as they had never seen him before.

And during the storm that followed, Jesus prayed again. The sky darkened. The winds howled. Yet he prayed. The people grumbled. The disciples doubted. Yet he prayed. When forced to choose between the muscles of men and the mountain of prayer, he prayed. Jesus didn’t try to do it by himself. So why should we?

There are crevasses in our life that we cannot cross alone. There are hearts in our world that we cannot change without God’s help. There are mountains that we cannot climb until we climb his mountain. So, climb it. You’ll be amazed. The Sisters of Loretto were.

As the story goes, the nuns prayed for nine days. On the last day of the novena, a Mexican carpenter with a beard, a donkey and a toolbox appeared at the chapel looking for work. He explained that he’d heard they needed a stairway to a chapel loft, and he thought he could help. At this point, the mother superior had nothing to lose so she gave him permission.

He went to work with crude tools, painstaking patience, a couple of tubs of water and uncanny skill. For eight months he worked – alone. Only working when the chapel was not in use; only working when no one could see; working only when the eyes who’d see were the eyes of the One who sees everything.

One morning the Sisters of Loretto entered the chapel to find their prayers had been answered. A masterpiece of carpentry spiraled from the floor to the loft. Two complete three-hundred-sixty-degree turns. Thirty-three steps held together with wooden pegs and no central support. The wood is said to be a variety of hard fir – a kind that doesn’t exist in New Mexico.

When the sisters turned to thank the craftsman, he was gone. He was never seen again. The nuns even ran ads in the local newspaper trying to find him, but no trace of the man could be found. He never asked for money. He never asked for praise. He was a simple carpenter who did what no one else could do so singers could gain access to a choir loft that no one could reach.

So, if you’re ever in Santa Fe, step into this chapel of amazement and witness the fruit of prayer. Or, if you prefer, talk to the Master Carpenter yourself, right where you are. He’s already performed one impossible feat in your world. He, like the Santa Fe carpenter, built a stairway no one else could build. He, like the nameless craftsman, used material from another place. He, like the visitor to Loretto, came to span the gap between where you are and where you long to be.

Each year of his life is a step. Thirty-three paces, all equally spaced. Each step of the stair is an answered prayer. He built it so you can climb it.

And sing.

Grace,

Randy

For Such a Time as This (Part 2)

 

For Such a Time as This

(Part 2)

For Such a time as This (Part 2) - Audio/Visual 

If you keep quiet at a time like this, deliverance and relief for the Jews will arise from some other place, but you and your relatives will die. Who knows if perhaps you were made queen for just such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14)

Where we last left off, Haman had just made an offer to the king that was, apparently, too good to refuse. Now, we don’t know if Xerxes simply wanted to exterminate approximately half of his kingdom’s population, or if the $13 million was his incentive, but we have a clue a little later on in the story which we’ll get to in just a moment. All we know is that Xerxes took off his signet ring and that was that; Haman’s plan was approved. And once enacted into law, the law could not be changed.

Of course, word spreads like wildfire since, apparently, the citizens had a pretty good postal service. And at the news, the entire Jewish population goes into mourning, especially those in the capital, Susa. Ironically, or perhaps not, the law was passed just one (1) day before Passover. In other words, on the eve of the Jews’ greatest deliverance, they’ve been ordered exterminated. Ignoring the pain of the populace, Xerxes and Haman are laughing and drinking it up as, apparently, is their custom. Interestingly, what Xerxes heard, i.e., the word Aw-bad, which means enslavement, was written Ab-bad which means to destroy. In other words, it was a homophone – two words that sound alike but have very different meanings. Thus, what Xerxes heard, i.e., enslavement, could very well have been his motivation in approving the legislation since he would have welcomed a foreign slave populace. That’s why Esther would later use the word, “destroyed,” in her request of the king, rather than “enslaved.” (Esther 7:4). Evil genius that Haman was, Haman intended to destroy the Jewish people and crafted the language of the written legislation to clarify that the Jews were to be destroyed, not enslaved.

Mordecai, of course, hears of Haman’s genocidal plan since he was always sitting at the King’s gate. Mordecai knew exactly what the law intoned and immediately went into mourning by wearing sackcloth. Esther hears of Mordecai’s despair and sends an assistant to find out why since the palace was generally secluded from the outside world. Knowing that Mordecai would be in sackcloth, however, Esther also sends a change of clothes to Mordecai to cover up since he was not in compliance with the palace dress code; Mordecai refuses. What we don’t know from the story is whether Mordecai was mourning for his people, or weeping because of his stubbornness which triggered the death sentence in the first place. In the final analysis, it really doesn’t matter because the results were the same: the Jews were to be wiped off the face of the planet in less than a year.

Esther, understanding only that Mordecai was in mourning, sends one of the king’s eunuchs to ask some questions of Mordecai who thereupon informs the eunuch about the law, including Haman’s blood money payment; it seems that the palace was always the last to know. The eunuch returns with the proclamation, including Mordecai’s encouragement to Esther to talk to the king about the new, “killer legislation.” Esther sends word back to Mordecai, “No can do,” explaining that any man or woman who goes to the king without an invitation is a dead “man,” or woman, unless the king extends his scepter. Problem is, Esther hasn’t seen the king in thirty (30) days. That’s a problem, or so she thinks.

Mordecai’s response? “Don’t think for a moment that you won’t escape the same punishment. If you remain silent, deliverance will arise for the Jews from another place and you and your relatives (which would include Mordecai as Esther’s relative) will die.” But like any good parent, Mordecai seasons his frank assessment with a word of encouragement: “Who knows if perhaps you were made queen for just such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14) Esther, resolved to be a change agent, agrees to see the king but with one caveat: “We’ll have to fast for three (3) days and then if I perish, I perish.” So, Esther, along with the entire Jewish population, spends three (3) days in prayer and fasting. Seeking the Lord through prayer and fasting has always been a good idea, especially when your life is at stake.

On day three (3) Esther goes to see the king. Now, it’s been thirty (30) days since the king has seen his queen and rather than saying “Off with their heads,” like the Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland, Xerxes says, “Wow, what a fox,” or something to that effect, and extends his scepter. Esther, understandably, breathes a sigh of relief and while catching her breath hears her husband say, “Baby, what do you want? I’ll give you up to ½ of my kingdom.” Probably a euphemism, but hey, the king’s happy. Quick-witted Esther or, perhaps, God-inspired, says, “Honey, I’m throwing a party. Would you like to come? And if so, please bring Haman with you.” Clearly, Esther was aware of the old saw that “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” but there was more. You see, had it been just dinner for two (2), the king may have had more on his mind than just dinner. This way, Esther eliminated the “he said, “she said” problems that might later occur because Haman would now be a witness. The king accepted the offer he couldn’t refuse and agrees to bring Haman over to Esther’s place for the party. Of course, you can imagine Haman’s response, preening as he gloats, “Hey, I’m having dinner with the king and the queen! But that’s only appropriate since I’m super important; I’m the Prime Minister.”

That night, Esther really pours it on and puts on a spread so lavish that the king is beside himself and says, “Baby, what do you want? I’ll give you up to ½ of my kingdom.” Same euphemism. Esther, apparently quite the party planner, says, “You know, honey, it just so happens that I’m throwing another party tomorrow. Will you come? And please bring Haman with you; he’s such a party animal. And if you’ll come, I promise I’ll tell you what I want.” Like a trout on a line, the king says, “Absolutely! We’ll be there with bells on.” At that, Haman is now whistling all the way home until he sees Mordecai – the same Mordecai that wouldn’t previously bow now doesn’t even bother getting up. Haman is now steaming mad, goes home and brags to his wife and friends about what a great guy he is, how much money he has, how many kids he has, his promotion, and how he has advanced ahead of everyone in the kingdom. But that stupid Mordecai still won’t bow, much less even get up now. Despite the pity party, Haman quietly takes solace in the fact that only he and the king will be attending Esther’s party.

Sympathizing with her husband’s anguish, Haman’s wife, a real peach, suggests that Haman build a gallows in the backyard to hang Mordecai – an idea that is enthusiastically embraced by Haman’s friends. But this wasn’t going to be just any gallows; it was to be a gallows 75’ high which would be about the height of a seven-story building and clearly visible from miles away. Impressed with his wife’s thinking outside of the box, Haman quickly hires the king’s carpenters and, viola, up goes a seven-story gallows conveniently constructed just outside of Haman’s patio. There’s nothing like a high hanging.

Meanwhile, the King can’t sleep – think Sleepless in Susa. Maybe it was the food he ate, but rather than ordering up some warm milk he decides to hear a few stories about his escapades and asks for the Chronicles of the Kings to be read to him. Remarkably, it just so happens that the reading of the chronicles includes the story about Mordecai saving the king from that earlier assassination attempt. Call it a divine coincidence, if you will. Having his memory refreshed, he asks the reader, “Hey, what’s been done for that hero, Mordecai? “Uhhhhh, nothing sir.” “Well, that certainly won’t do. Who’s in the house now?” “Uhhhhh, well, Haman is, sir.” “Well, what’s keeping you? Bring him in.”

Haman can’t get there fast enough when he hears the king say, “Hey, Haman, what should we do for the man whom the king delights to honor?” Haman, thinking that the king was referring to himself, of course, ticks off a laundry list of special honors for just such a person, including: (1) the royal robe; (2) the king’s horse; (3) the royal crest on the horse’s head to be delivered by one of the king’s most noble princes; and (5) a street parade. Thrilled with the suggestions, the king says, “Thus shall it be done to the man whom the king delights to honor! We’re going to honor Mordecai, Mordecai Mordecai, Mordecai,” as the name ricochets around in Haman’s head. Crushed, Haman runs home to tell his wife and best friends about what just happened, keeping his head covered to prevent anyone from seeing his red-faced embarrassment. Unfortunately, rather than finding comfort and solace in his wife and best friends, they abandon ship and say, “You know, if Mordecai is a Jew, you’re pretty much a dead man.”

Just then, the eunuchs come get Haman to take him to Esther’s party, and Haman’s not exactly in the party mood but the king is and, as is his custom, says, “Hey, baby, what do you want? I’ll give you up to ½ of my kingdom.” Same euphemism. Esther responds, “My life.” “What, baby? What did you say?” “I want my life,” Esther responds. “Who wants to take your life, baby?” “You’re looking at him honey – it’s Haman.” Now, putting out a contract on his wife had Xerxes just a little upset and Haman stands there like a deer caught in the headlights. In fact, the Scripture says that Haman was “terrified,” which would be a Biblical understatement. But Xerxes, not wanting to overreact and kill Haman on the spot, decided to go outside and cool off. When he returns, he sees Haman pleading for his life. The problem is that Haman’s pleading for his life while draped over the Queen’s couch and you don’t go touching the king’s women. Understandably, the king thinks Haman is trying to rape his wife, which isn’t good – another understatement. And as fast as you can say, “String him up,” the servants cover Haman’s face (because he’s a dead man walking) and hang him on the gallows at the Haman residence – 75’ high.

Faced with the dilemma of being unable to change the Haman-induced legislation, the king, for the first time, conceives of and delivers an order. First, Haman’s household goes to Esther (who gives it to Mordecai), and a new law is enacted allowing the Jews to protect themselves from the deadly results of the former legislation. As a result, Esther lives happily ever after, and Mordecai is promoted to Prime Minister. And all of this is recorded without a single reference to God. So, where was God? Was he out of the picture, or was he the picture? Jesus is on every page of the Old Testament, and the truth is that you were born for such a time as this. Are you a senior saint? You were born for such a time as this – you have faithfully served your church in your locale and it has prospered. Are you a youth? You were born for such a time as this – you are the future of the Lord’s church in your community. A new Christian? You were born for such a time as this – you will add enthusiasm while evangelizing your city. Our God is not the God of coincidence. All things happen for a purpose. (Rom. 8:28)

It seems to me that we spend far too much time trading what we don’t know for what we do know. For instance, I don’t know why God allows things to happen as he does, but I do know that he loves me. So, don’t trade what you don’t know for what you do know. You’ve just seen God’s grace through the book of Esther despite the fact that God’s name is never mentioned – once. Perhaps that’s because God’s grace, even without mention, is sufficient to cover your sins and mine. God’s grace was manifest in sending his son, Jesus, to die on the cross for our sins. God’s grace was manifest in raising his son from the dead, never to die again and is now seated at God’s right hand. God’s grace has given all things unto Christ Jesus, our Lord. God’s grace was shed for you and me. God’s grace is free; it cannot be earned. God’s grace simply needs to be accepted. The question is, “Will you accept God’s gift?”

He’s calling, you know. He’s knocking; he’s waiting. All you need to do is accept this gift by acknowledging your sin, repenting of it, asking God for his forgiveness and putting him on in baptism – not as a work, but as an outward expression of your acceptance of this gift because you don’t earn a gift – you earn a paycheck. And you didn’t do anything to earn God’s grace – it’s a gift that all you have to do is accept. How hard is that? I know, I know. “There’s no free lunch,” and you’re right. You don’t get God’s gift for free because it came at a cost. But God, through Jesus Christ, paid that price. Hard to believe, I know. That’s what Satan says.

You have a choice, and who knows but that you were born for just such a time as this.

Grace,

Randy

For Such a Time as This (Part 1)

 

For Such a Time as This

(Part 1)

For Such a Time as This (Part 1) - Audio/Visual 

If you keep quiet at a time like this, deliverance and relief for the Jews will arise from some other place, but you and your relatives will die. Who knows if perhaps you were made queen for just such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14)

The story of Esther takes place during the rule of Ahasuerus, which means “Mighty Man,” but you probably know him better as Xerxes. He succeeded to the throne through his father, Darius, and ruled the Persian Empire from 486 to 465 B.C. He governed 127 provinces, or Satripes, that stretched from India to Ethiopia, kind of like states within a union. His capital was the city of Sushan, or Susa, and as the story unfolds Xerxes has just returned, defeated, at the hands of the Greeks in the Battle of Thermopylae. Remember the movie, 300? It was the Hollywood blockbuster about Leonidas who, with 300 soldiers, fights to the last soldier against Xerxes’ million troops – just long enough for Sparta to respond and turn Xerxes away. Depressed from his embarrassing defeat, Xerxes came back to Susa and threw a drinking party that lasted for 6 months. Think of it as an 180-day open house with a hosted bar.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, even binges. So, to secure his position and continued respect of the aristocracy, Xerxes decides to throw a stag party (men-only) during the final seven days of his six-month bender, but this time for the Who’s Who of Susa. Not wanting to offend anyone, however, Xerxes said that drinking was optional, but word had it that if the king took a drink, everyone took a drink; and Xerxes liked to drink. In fact, by the end of this final week he’d had so much to drink that he came up with the brilliant idea of inviting his wife, the queen, to come to the party in her royal crown “in order to show her beauty to the people.” (Esther 1:11) Some have suggested that this invitation was intended for Vashti to come only in her crown.

Now it just so happened that the queen was throwing a party, or “feast,” of her own. Interestingly, the word “feast” (mišteh) occurs as many times in the book of Esther as it does in the entire Old Testament. Susa was, apparently, a regular party town. Unfortunately, Vashti wasn’t in the mood to party with a bunch of drunk guys, especially if the invitation was intended for her and her crown, only. So, like any upstanding, sober woman she said, “No.” Needless to say, Xerxes was not happy. Here’s the most powerful ruler of the known world and his own wife won’t even obey his command – and this in the presence of all of his Hoi Polloi guy friends. “No” apparently didn’t mean “no,” and what started out as a domestic dispute mushroomed into a full-blown political crisis. Huh. What’s a king to do? Well, you turn to your trusted, equally drunk advisors, one of whom was Memucan.

Memucan suggested that if the king did nothing about this crisis then all of the women in the kingdom would follow the queen’s example and revolt, which would leave all of the men without their partners, including certain matrimonial benefits. So, what’s a king to do? Well, you quickly pass emergency divorce legislation which is exactly what you’d expect from a bunch of drunk guys. The guts of the law? The queen was to never see the king again, and her crown was to be given to another. That way, the guys thought, the entire empire would know that a man was the king of his castle. This, of course, was political deflection at its best since the genesis of the legislation was due to the fact that the queen had demonstrated that the king was not the king of his own castle. But then again, facts have a way of becoming inconvenient if it doesn’t fit the narrative. Who’d have thought?

So, there was peace in the king’s household until the effects of the implementation of the emergency legislation left Xerxes a very lonely man. So, again, what’s a king to do? Have a beauty pageant, of course, where all of the contestants would be virgins and the king could have the pick of the litter, so to speak; kind of like The Bachelor. Well, you can imagine the publicity and excitement that the beauty contest generated, and it got the attention of Mordecai, son of Jair, son of Shimei, son of Kish. (This will become important later, i.e., think king Saul, a descendant of the tribe of Benjamin whose father was Kish.) Now, Mordecai had an orphaned cousin whom he’d adopted as his own whose name was Hadassah, or Ishtar, aka: Esther. Like her name (the Hebrew, Hadassah, means “Myrtle,” and her Persian name, Ishtar, means “star”), Esther was lovely, beautiful and a rising star.

As “luck” would have it, Esther gets discovered in the beauty pageant and is taken to Susa for a year of beauty treatments including diet, exercise, pedicures, manicures, etc. Think of the Golden Door just north of here. The year-long spa treatment included 6 months of perfumes and preparations for her beautification, and another 6 months of oil of myrrh coupled with massages using perfumed oils. Hegai, one of the king’s eunuchs, took a liking to Esther and made sure that she got all of her beauty treatments, including an allowance, and threw in seven servants from the king’s palace just for good measure. He then moved her and the servants to the best place in the “house of women,” which is a polite way of saying “harem.” Tragically, the beautiful, young virgins who were there for the king’s pleasure, but eventually passed over, could never marry and, eventually, became widows since they were forbidden to ever marry as they were, or at least had once been a part of the king’s harem. So much for March’s “Women’s History Month.”

During her year-long preparation at the salon, Esther had never revealed her Jewish heritage to anyone since Mordecai, her adoptive cousin, had encouraged her to keep that part of her history a mystery, at least for now. But like any adoptive dad, Mordecai worried about Esther and every day he would pace up and down in front of the “women’s quarters,” ahem, harem, to keep an eye on her. After the 12 month beautification period had passed, each woman, at the king’s invitation, would be escorted into the palace and would take something special from the harem to the king. She would go to the palace in the evening and return in the morning to the king’s eunuch who kept the concubines, but this time in a second house. And unless the king asked for her again, she would there remain - forever.

When it came Esther’s turn, rather than selecting something special for the king herself, she asked Hegai for his opinion which endeared her to everyone with whom she came into contact. And, of course, who better than Hegai to ask since he had the king’s confidence and likely knew what was really on the king’s mind. Apparently, Esther brought the “right stuff” because she didn’t come back the next morning. Instead, she was named the new queen. In fact, the king was so happy that he proclaimed a holiday and put on a huge party for all of his guests. The king loved Esther, and this is just another Biblical story which elevates a person of obscurity to greatness. It’s the same theme that the Bible gives in numerous stories like Joseph, Ruth, Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego, just to name a few.

Esther, by this time, had been instrumental in getting her cousin, Mordecai, promoted, so he sat in front of the king’s gate where all the action took place and happened to overhear two (2) disgruntled ex-employees, the king’s former doorkeepers, plotting to kill king Xerxes. Some scholars believe that this plot originated due to the fact that Mordecai, a Jew, had been promoted to the king’s court which incensed the old-school Persian politicos. Regardless, it was another divine “coincidence.”

Mordecai tells Esther about the plot, and Esther tells the king. Understandably, the king orders the death of the two (2) traitors and this goes down in the history books in the presence of the king which becomes a very important part of the story later on. But then in walks in Haman the Agagite, the Darth Vadar in the story. Haman was a descendant of the Amalekites. And if you remember your history, the Amalekites were the descendants of Esau who was the archetype of a Jewish hater. Thus, if Mordecai was descended from Saul, and Haman from the Amalekites, then the drama that follows is merely the continuation of a long-standing hostility between their families. Briefly, Agag, a king of the Amalekites, was captured and his people were slaughtered. Eventually, Agag was executed by Samuel the prophet, not king Saul, since Saul wasn’t known to follow God’s instructions very well. (See, 1 Sam 15.) Actually, the hostilities went back to the days of Moses who had admonished Israel to “blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven: do not forget.” (Deut. 25:19) Needless to say, it was a centuries-old grudge whose succeeding generations had very long memories.

Back at Susa, everyone bowed down to Haman since he was the Prime Minister of Persia. Well, everyone except for Mordecai who was a professed Jew and whose heritage was no secret: he’d told Haman’s servants that he was Jewish. In a Persian empire, and in Haman’s eyes in particular, it was an act of civil disobedience that had to be punished. Haman hated to be disrespected at the city gate when everyone else would give obeisance to him except that Jew boy, Mordecai. The problem was that Haman was a student of history and knew that going toe-to-toe with Mordecai probably wouldn’t end well. Believing that past could be prologue, Haman had every reason to fear Mordecai but that didn’t sate the hate. So, after giving the matter some thought he came up with a solution to his problem. His solution? Kill all of the Jews. Hitler had nothing on Haman’s genocidal madness. But this was a pretty grave final solution, and Haman couldn’t do it without some help. So, he enlisted his sorcerers for their advice since there’s nothing like consulting the soothsayers when you’re considering the extermination of more than a million human beings on the basis of their race.

The sorcerers weren’t consulted so much in connection with Haman’s plan since he was the Prime Minister, after all. No, Haman just needed a little advice as to when the plan should go into effect. So, after rolling the dice, or casting the “pur” (Esther 3:7), the “experts” told Haman that the plan should begin in eleven (11) months which suited Haman just fine; there was a lot to do when it came to murdering millions of people, not the least of which was getting the king’s approval. So, Haman went to his boss and told the king, generically speaking of course, that there was a group of people who lived in Persia who were just, well, “different,” i.e., not like them, and making matters worse they weren’t obeying the king’s laws. “So, in my opinion, it’s not fitting that they remain and should be destroyed. In fact, I feel so strongly about this that I’ll donate $13 million to your treasury for the privilege of seeing this law go into effect. So, what do you say, king baby?” (Esther 3:9) Now, at the time, $13 million was about 2/3 of Persia’s gross national product. So, was Haman’s offer an offer that the king couldn’t refuse? Stay tuned.

Grace,

Randy