One Of The Problems that has beset interpreters of the book of Esther down the centuries is the complete absence of God. What is such a book — one that doesn’t even mention God or seem to have any religious dimension to it whatsoever — doing in the Bible at all? What does the Bible want with such an apparently ‘unbiblical’ book?

We can start by stating the obvious: the book of Esther is in the Bible, and whatever debates there may have been about its canonicity through the ages, if we believe that God has inspired the Biblical writers and overseen the development of the canon, there can be no question of its being ‘biblical.’ The difficulty remains discovering how it is so.

There are two key aspects to answering this question. Both require some development, so we shall spend some time on each.

A real life situation

Let us propose, as a working hypothesis, that a theme of the book of Esther is the question of whether or not God is there, active in the world. Let us suppose that the book explores what happens when He apparently isn’t there ­who can be sure of what will happen in such a world? For this is precisely the world we do live in. God is not visible for all to see in miraculous events as once He was in Israel’s history.

Now, it is common sense that the book is not able to explore these themes so powerfully if God manifestly is there, on the surface of the text, jumping out at us from the printed page. You can’t debate whether or not God is there if He is written into the narrative, for the narrative has betrayed its hand too easily and answered the very question it is seeking to explore without the possibility of debate. There would be nothing to discuss. You cannot ask the question ‘Where is God?’ if He is there, busy and active as a character in the narrative.

It is for this reason, I would suggest, that His presence is concealed. We our required, in effect, to have faith that He is there — which is, after all, just how it is in real life. We do not see God, or feel Him in a physical sense; we do not hear His voice as sound waves beating on our ears. Yet we know He is there.

This is where the interesting point lies. It is easy to write a sentence such as `Yet we know He is there.’ The reality of discipleship is that many of us need to add the rider ‘most of the time.’ Although in principle we uphold the truth that He is there, there are times when we do not feel quite so sure. Can we trust God to look after the world behind the scenes? Why doesn’t He show Himself and prove once and for all that He is there? Why must I clutch at the straws of faith in such a manner (is there nothing more concrete for my hands to handle?); are these strands of faith strong enough to support me in time of crisis?

Of course it helps when God puts in an explicit appearance, as He does so often in most of the Biblical writings. But there have been many times in human history when He has not done so. Is God still in control in a world in which a figure such as Haman can arise and threaten to annihilate the Jews? Is God in control in a world in which the Holocaust can happen? Is He there in a world in which the closest followers of Jesus can suffer the harshest persecution?

So God isn’t there on the surface in the book of Esther, just as He wasn’t there on the surface throughout the Intertestamental period, in the post-apostolic age, or indeed today. His presence, in each of these contexts, has to be discerned. It has to be perceived with faith, or denied through lack of vision.

Is God there beneath the surface in the book of Esther? This is really the crucial question. In one sense there can be no definitive answer through lack of material proof, yet the cumulative ‘coincidental’ evidence leads to a clear affirmative. The sceptic will always demur, but to an open mind, the nature of the coincidences stack up to a proof which is incontrovertible:

  • How come Vashti is deposed just at the point when Esther is of eligible age and status to be considered for the harem?
  • How come Esther is chosen from all the women whom the king inspects?
  • How come Mordecai is the one who discovers the attempted coup and is able to inform the king through Esther?
  • How come the king cannot sleep on the very occasion Haman comes to seek Mordecai’s death?
  • How come Haman happens to be in the court at the precise moment the king wants to honour Mordecai?
  • How come the edict to annihilate the Jews ends up being reversed?
  • How come the king’s favourite ends up hanged on the gallows he had made for his enemy?

Can we write off the remarkable sequence of events which takes place in the book as just so many coincidences? Is the tremendous reversal of events it describes merely a fluke? These questions lead to a very different one: does God have to be accomplishing physical miracles like dividing the Red Sea in order to prove that He is there? He works quietly too, but in a way which is no less powerful. This is the challenge of faith, an area in which the book of Esther provides tremendous encouragement.

The debate about the existence of God today is a similar case. There is no experiment which can be undertaken to prove His presence; there is no material proof in that sense. It is instead a balancing of probabilities. Is it conceivable that such a series of ‘coincidences’ as the natural world, the written Word, and the tale of world history provides could have arisen without Him? As believers, our contention is that this is far too much to ask.

The book’s exploration of this theme of the presence/absence of God and of the manner of His involvement in the world is thus both fascinating and relevant. But we can overlay onto it a second theme which helps to further explain God’s absence in the book.

Israel not deserted

This second theme relates to God’s purpose with Israel, and the key question is this: has God, does God, and will God ever cast away His people? We know the answer to this from the book of Romans, and it is the same answer given by the book of Esther. The answer is that, despite themselves, He has not, does not, and will not cast them away.

The ‘despite themselves’ aspect is important: God acts as He does towards them not for intrinsic merit on their part, but for His holy name’s sake. It is for exactly this reason that the book of Esther does not tell us whether at this time the Jews were righteous or wicked, whether they were calling upon the Lord or whether they were not. From the point of view of this theme it would be an irrelevance. Whatever they are doing God will see to it that His purpose with them is accomplished — and will do so for His own sake, because He said He would. He can be trusted to look after His world and to run it according to the principles He has laid down.

Personal righteousness not the key in this case

Similarly, the sort of relationship that Esther and Mordecai have with God is not revealed, for it is also not relevant to this theme and would in fact detract from it. Esther and Mordecai are strange heroes for a Biblical narrative because their piety is hidden. Neither are recorded as ever praying to God (yes there is fasting, but no religious dimension to this is specified), nor as thanking Him. The book is thus not concerned with its lead characters as explicit models of religious fervour (there are plenty of other biblical characters who provide that kind of leadership, after all). They can only be this in a secondary and more concealed sense; the primary interests of the book lie elsewhere.

Just as one cannot argue, ‘God only saved Israel from Haman’s plan because they repented and cried to Him’ (because there is no record that they did), so one cannot argue ‘God only saved them for Esther and Mordecai’s sake ­because they were righteous.’ Most likely they were; we have seen good evidence throughout the series and will see more in coming articles to suggest their high spirituality. But this is not the point at issue. Whatever the people of Israel were like (whether they repented or whether they didn’t), and whatever their leaders were like (righteous or atheistic as they might often be today), God will still preserve His people, and bring His plan for them to fruition.

God will keep covenant

The book of Esther thus has a crucial message about God’s purpose with His people Israel. Despite themselves He will be there for them, and though they may sail close to the wind (as they did with Haman’s plan and in the Holocaust), they will always remain in existence and He will ultimately be glorified in them. Why? Because He is always the same, and because what He says goes. Through what happens with Israel, throughout their history, there is a message about God which gives us great confidence when we look at what is taking place in the world today.

Identifying this dimension to the book helps us to take a view on the Feast of Purim. It is not specifically a religious feast at all. It does not derive from the Law (clearly not, for it is instituted here!), and no specific religious content is prescribed. It could be interpreted purely as a celebration of Jewish longevity, the triumph of the national spirit. No doubt this is how it is interpreted for many.

But it need not be that way. It is all a matter of perception. What is the reason underlying Jewish longevity? Is it fluke, genetic superiority, historical circumstance? Or is it because God is there behind the scenes? The feast is what you make of it. You don’t have to see God in it if you don’t want to. But the eye of faith will not be able to see it in any other way. The Jews’ continued existence, celebrated in Purim, is testament that God is there, whether on the surface or beneath, and that His purposes for His people remain secure.