Michael Lawrence
As God’s people today, living in a deeply secular world where God often seems absent, Esther’s message of God’s faithfulness is one we desperately need to hear. Getting started right will help us cut it straight.
On the surface, Esther explains the origin of Purim—one of only two Jewish festivals not established by Moses (the other being Hanukkah). Esther 9:28 commands that these days “should never fall into disuse among the Jews, nor should the commemoration of these days cease among their descendants.” But Esther is about far more than the origin of a holiday.
The book was written anonymously, sometime after the events it records, in the second half of the 5th century BC. The events themselves take place over ten years of King Xerxes’ reign (483–473 BC). Xerxes was the son of Darius, the king who had thrown Daniel into the lion’s den. After Darius’ defeat by Athens, Xerxes convened a war council in 483 BC to avenge his father’s humiliation. Esther opens during that council.
This places Esther’s story in a recognizable global context. In the east, Confucius is about to die. In the west, Herodotus has just been born, Socrates is soon to be born, Athens is entering its golden age, and Sophocles is writing Oedipus Rex. These years shaped both eastern and western culture for millennia.
Biblically, Esther falls between the rebuilding of the temple (encouraged by Haggai and Zechariah) and the ministries of Ezra and Nehemiah. These were the decades in which God was proving himself a promise-keeping God, restoring his people after exile. Yet the return to Jerusalem is never mentioned in Esther.
Instead, the setting is Susa, the Persian capital—far from Jerusalem, but at the center of world power. Many Jews remained there in exile, living under Persian rule. In Esther, that rule threatens their total destruction. Without Esther’s deliverance, the return from exile would collapse, and God’s promises would fail.
The question in Jerusalem was: “What does it mean to be God’s people back in the land?” But the question in Susa was even sharper: “What does it mean to be God’s people in a place where God seems absent?”
God is never named in Esther. There are no prayers to him, no prophetic words, barely even religious practices. The setting is relentlessly pagan. But this is the point: in a world where God seems absent, the unseen hand of providence is everywhere.
The Jews face annihilation, yet deliverance comes not through miracles but through the ordinary twists and turns of human events—banquets, edicts, court politics, sleepless nights. The book of Esther shows that God governs all things through secondary causes to accomplish his perfect purposes.
This is a book about God’s faithfulness to deliver his people—not through their faithfulness or obvious miracles, but through his providence. And that makes it deeply relevant for us who also live in an age without constant miracles, but under the rule of the risen Christ who promised, “I am with you always.”
Though unmentioned, God’s faithfulness is unmistakable. Mordecai’s words to Esther capture this:
“If you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place… And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (4:14).
It is not God’s faithfulness but Esther’s that is in question.
Coincidences abound: positions open at the right moment, reports are forgotten and later recalled, the king cannot sleep and “just happens” to hear the record of Mordecai’s loyalty. The very gallows prepared for Mordecai become Haman’s downfall. Providence is the unseen framework holding the story together.
Haman is clearly the villain. Xerxes (Ahasuerus) is portrayed as foolish. But Esther and Mordecai are morally complex. Esther participates in the politics of the Persian court; Mordecai allows it. The author rarely gives moral evaluations, leaving readers in the tension of human compromise. Yet even through ambiguous figures, God works for good.
Esther is also a comedy—full of reversals, ironies, and wordplay. Xerxes’ name means “headache.” Haman means “wrath.” Esther echoes “Ishtar.” The story uses dark humor to remind us the outcome is never in doubt: God turns mourning into gladness (cf. Psalm 126:3).
The book is organized around three sets of feasts (1–3; 5–8; 9). Each feast is tied to dramatic reversals. Think of Esther as a play in three acts, with cliffhangers at the end of each scene.
Chs. 1–2: Introduce main characters (Xerxes, Mordecai, Esther).
Ch. 3: Haman enters, with the edict to annihilate the Jews.
Chs. 4–9: Rising action, Esther’s risk, Mordecai’s threat, Haman’s plot, and the ironic reversals that save God’s people. Chapter 6—Xerxes’ insomnia—is the turning point.
Ch. 9–10: Resolution—Purim established, Mordecai exalted, and God’s deliverance remembered.
Several strategies help us connect Esther to Christ:
Typology: Esther risks her life for her people—Jesus gives his life. Mordecai rises to the king’s right hand to pursue his people’s prosperity—Christ reigns at the Father’s right hand forever.
Historical Trajectory: The decree to destroy the Jews fell on the eve of Passover. If successful, it would have emptied Passover of meaning. But Purim, celebrated one month before Passover, shows that God delivers not only from Egypt but also to the end. In Christ, our Passover lamb, we look forward to the final deliverance at his return.
Theological Themes: Providence and ironic judgment shine through Esther. At the cross, lawless men crucified Christ—but by God’s definite plan, that very act became the world’s salvation.
Esther’s pagan setting maps directly onto our secular world. Several applications stand out:
Dignity of Women: Vashti’s defiance and Esther’s rise invite us to speak about the value and agency of women—inside and outside the church.
Messy Faithfulness: Like Esther and Mordecai, believers face morally complex choices. Esther doesn’t condone compromise, but it prepares us to follow Christ when options aren’t clear-cut.
Hope in Chaos: In times of cultural upheaval and apparent chaos, Esther reminds us that God is firmly in control, even when unseen.
Esther is a powerful story of God’s providence. Though his name is never spoken, his presence is everywhere—directing events, raising up deliverers, and turning sorrow into joy.
For us, Esther points forward to Christ—the one who perished for his people, who reigns at the right hand of God, and who will deliver us to the end. Our people don’t need the false hopes of politics or cultural movements. They need the sure hope of God’s faithfulness in Christ.