Dan Olinger

"If the Bible is true, then none of our fears are legitimate, none of our frustrations are permanent, and none of our opposition is significant."

Dan Olinger

 

Retired Bible Professor,

Bob Jones University

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Second King, Part 7: Any Old Tablet

June 13, 2022 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: We’ll See Who’s Boss | Part 3: Selfish Aims | Part 4: The King Gets What He Wants | Part 5: A Roll of the Dice | Part 6: The Tease

With Queen Esther’s plan in place, and in progress, the storyteller turns his focus to Haman. We already know that he’s proud and arrogant but not confident in his authority; he’s enraged by Mordecai’s simple refusal to bow to him—as if that matters—and his response far outmeasures the offense: he’s going to kill Mordecai, and he’s going to eradicate his entire people group.

The plan for the genocide is already in place, signed by the king and unalterable. Haman now turns to the specific task of getting rid of Mordecai without having to wait 11 months for the genocide date.

His approach has been affected, in ways he doesn’t realize, by Queen Esther, who has already outsmarted him. She knows of his arrogance and has played to it perfectly by inviting only him to join her and the king at a private but lavish feast—for two nights in a row.

His guard is completely down. After the first night, he goes home to his family and brags about the recognition (Es 5.11-12). But on the way home, the mere sight of Mordecai sitting in the gate increases his rage (Es 5.9). A slight has outweighed all the pleasures and privileges he holds in the kingdom.

He’s a petty, petty man.

And Esther knows it.

Haman’s wife and friends suggest that he rid himself of the problem of Mordecai with dispatch. He should build a gallows on which to hang the Jew.

When we hear “gallows,” we think of the hangman’s apparatus. But that’s not this at all.

This is a pointed stake, 75 feet tall (Es 5.14). You erect it, and then you lower the hapless victim onto the pointed top. It pierces his body, first from gravity and then from the writhing. When it gets to his heart—or maybe, mercifully, sooner—he dies.

I’m told that it’s an unpleasant way to go.

Haman likes the idea. He has his servants—he has plenty of servants—put the heinous contraption together.

He’s going to need the king’s permission to execute Mordecai before the appointed time. By now it’s nighttime, and the king isn’t available. But Mordecai clearly wants to get this thing done ASAP, so he takes the most efficient route open to him: he goes to the gate of the king’s court—probably the very place where he had seen Mordecai sitting earlier in the day—and he waits, like an iPhone fan waiting for the next model, or a Marvel fan waiting for the first showing. He’ll wait all night, he thinks, and be the first one in line in the morning. We’ll get this done.

He settles in.

And the whole story—all of it—hinges on what happens next (Es 6.1).

Xerxes can’t sleep.

That’s the hinge? A little thing like that?

Yep.

He can’t sleep.

So he calls a servant and tells him to go get a copy of the Congressional Record to read to him.

That’ll put him to sleep. Works every time.

And the servant, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and likely cursing the king under his breath, stumbles into the archive warehouse, weaves his way down a long aisle, and perhaps without even looking, pulls a nondescript clay tablet from a shelf. Doesn’t care what it is, because what it is doesn’t matter. Just need to get the stupid king back to sleep.

Back in the king’s bedchamber, the servant begins to read. This tablet, this randomly and blindly chosen tablet, is one we’ve seen before. It’s the scribal record of the two would-be assassins, who were executed after Mordecai reported them to the court.

What are the odds?

The hinge begins to move.

To be continued.

Part 8: Mental Explosion | Part 9: What Goes Around | Part 10: The Missing Piece

Photo credit: Xerxes tomb at Naqsh-e Rostam (4615488322) – Tomb of Xerxes I – Wikipedia

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: Esther, Old Testament

Second King, Part 6: The Tease

June 9, 2022 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: We’ll See Who’s Boss | Part 3: Selfish Aims | Part 4: The King Gets What He Wants | Part 5: A Roll of the Dice

The previous post ends with all the population of Susa perplexed. What is the king thinking, ordering all Jews to be executed?! This is madness!

Of course, the Jews themselves respond even more energetically. Mordecai stands in sackcloth in front of the king’s gate, crying out at the top of his voice (Es 4.1-2). And the cry extends all across the empire, wherever there are Jews to mourn (Es 4.3).

We’re surprised that Esther doesn’t know about the decree, but we probably shouldn’t be. In that culture—in fact, in pretty much all cultures of that day—this is men’s business. No need to worry her pretty little head about it. The queen is told that her cousin is mourning, and she sends to find out why (Es 4.5).

Mordecai has a copy of the decree—it had been widely circulated (Es 3.14)—which he sends to Esther (Es 4.8). She knows there’s a response that might be effective, even in the instance of an unamendable law: she can try to intervene with the king.

She knows in how high esteem Xerxes holds her. She knows her power.

But there’s a risk.

You can see the king—if he calls for you. You can’t just mosey on in and ask for stuff. Not even if you’re the queen.

The king’s a really big deal, you see.

Mordecai too knows that this is risky. But he too knows the power she wields over the king. It’s worth the risk. Mordecai tells her, “This is why you’re in the position you’re in. This is why you’re the queen” (Es 4.13-14).

Now, those are interesting words. Mordecai thinks that history isn’t random. He thinks there’s a purpose to it. Since he’s a Jew, we know quite a bit about his worldview—but he doesn’t go into all that. He simply says that there’s a reason.

And that implies that Xerxes may not be as big as he thinks he is.

And there’s yet another implication in Esther’s reply. She calls for all the Jews in Susa to fast for three days (Es 4.16). Interestingly, she doesn’t call on them to pray; but again, we know Jewish culture, and we know that fasting and praying go together (1S 7.5-6; 2Ch 20.3; Ne 1.4; Ps 35.13; Da 9.3; Joel 1.14). What does Esther expect nationwide fasting to accomplish?

Like Mordecai, she doesn’t think history is random either.

After the three days of fasting, Esther works her plan. She puts on her royal apparel (Es 5.1)—this will show respect for the king’s presence, but it will also certainly impress on him all the strengths he knows she has—the reasons he chose her as queen in the first place.

She knows he will not dismiss her.

And he doesn’t.

He welcomes her into the throne room, and he asks her request. He knows she must want something; you don’t drop by the throne just to ask how the king’s day is going.

Esther doesn’t pour her troubles all over him. She’s going to give him the story just a bit at a time.

She’s clever, and she’s worked the tactics all out ahead of time.

She says nothing about the Jews, or the decree, or Haman’s manipulation of the mighty king.

She just invites the king to dinner.

Oh, and Haman too (Es 5.4).

The king’s delighted. A beautiful woman, and food too! What could be better?

And when he is well fed, he turns to the queen and asks again what she wants. He may just want to bestow gifts on her as signs of his approval and affection, or he may know that she wouldn’t have come to the throne just to invite him to dinner. He has the good sense to ask again what she would like him to do for her.

And Esther surprises us again.

Again, she doesn’t get down to business about the decree.

She invites the king and Haman to another dinner. Tomorrow (Es 5.8).

Like Sheherazade, she knows the power of anticipation.

Till “tomorrow.”

Part 7: Any Old Tablet | Part 8: Mental Explosion | Part 9: What Goes Around | Part 10: The Missing Piece

Photo credit: Xerxes tomb at Naqsh-e Rostam (4615488322) – Tomb of Xerxes I – Wikipedia

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: Esther, Old Testament

Second King, Part 5: A Roll of the Dice

June 6, 2022 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: We’ll See Who’s Boss | Part 3: Selfish Aims | Part 4: The King Gets What He Wants  

After Esther becomes queen, about four years pass before we meet the antagonist of the story, the wicked court official Haman. He is an Agagite (Es 3.1), which may mean that he’s a descendant of Agag the Amalekite, whom King Saul had refused to kill when the Lord told him to (1Sam 15.8, 32-33). Israel and Amalek had a long history of enmity, going back a thousand years from Esther’s time; Balaam’s blessing of Israel included the promise that Israel’s king “would be higher than Agag” (Nu 24.7). It would certainly make sense that Haman would have a deep-seated hatred for the Jews, if this is what “Agagite” means. But that is by no means certain. 

At any rate, Mordecai refuses to bow to Haman (Es 3.2). 

That’s interesting, because the question of bowing to earthly rulers isn’t clearly answered in Scripture. On the one hand, the Law forbade bowing to false gods or idols (Ex 20.5; 23.24; Le 26.1; De 5.9), and we have the example of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refusing to bow to the image of the king (Da 3.12). But God’s people frequently bowed to human rulers, and even to Gentiles. When Abraham was purchasing a burial place for Sarah, he bowed to the Hittites from whom he was purchasing it (Ge 23.7). A woman from Tekoah bowed to King David (2S 14.4), as did a messenger when David was waiting news from the battlefield (2S 18.28). David’s wife Bathsheba bowed to him as well (1K 1.16). 

So exactly why Mordecai refused to bow to Haman is not clear. Maybe it was a religious thing; maybe he just didn’t like the guy. But this single tiny incident sets in motion the motivation for Haman to isolate and execute the Jews—a motivation that will drive the rest of the story. 

Haman is furious (Es 3.5). Modern readers will realize that this kind of response likely indicates weakness and insecurity rather than actual power; a confident leader doesn’t worry about such minor slights, because he has more important things to give his attention to. Haman’s weakness is further demonstrated by his response—we’ll kill Mordecai, and we’ll kill his entire people as well (Es 3.6). Of course, if he carries out his desire, God’s promise to Abraham—of a people, and of a Seed (Ge 15.4-5)—will go unkept. 

On April 7, 474 BC, Haman’s staff casts the lot to determine the day on which the Jews will be exterminated (Es 3.7). The Persians often cast lots, as far as a year in advance, to determine auspicious days to do this or that. The day that comes up this time is March 7, 473 BC—11 months away. The lag time gives the Jews warning and time to prepare. Speaking of “auspicious.” 

Haman figures that if he kills the Jews, he can plunder their stuff. So he bribes Xerxes to grant his horrific request (Es 3.9). He’ll pay the 10,000 talents from the plunder. 

Now, 10,000 talents is a pile of money. Xerxes’ predecessor, Darius I, received about 15,000 talents in revenue for a whole year. This tells us that Haman saw the Jews as a wealthy target; they had apparently done very well in Babylon. 

Xerxes acquiesces to Haman’s absurd request (Es 3.11). And so the decree goes out across the entire empire, in all the requisite languages. The announcement day is the 13th day of the first month (Es 3.12)—the day before Passover (Le 23.5). Happy holidays. 

The despot takes the whole thing lightly. He signs the decree and then calls for a drink with Haman (Es 3.15). Good ol’ boys having a good time. 

“But the city Shushan was perplexed” (Es 3.15). The king’s own people are bewildered by what he has done. The crowds in the city mill about in the streets, shaking their heads, asking one another what this can possibly mean. “What on earth is he thinking?!” 

But he’s the sovereign. He can do what he wants. 

There’s nobody bigger. Right?

Part 6: The Tease | Part 7: Any Old Tablet | Part 8: Mental Explosion | Part 9: What Goes Around | Part 10: The Missing Piece

Photo credit: Xerxes tomb at Naqsh-e Rostam (4615488322) – Tomb of Xerxes I – Wikipedia

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: Esther, Old Testament

Second King, Part 4: The King Gets What He Wants

June 2, 2022 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: We’ll See Who’s Boss | Part 3: Selfish Aims

The beautiful girl Esther is now effectively a member of Xerxes’ harem, but a lot has to happen before he even meets her. The court official responsible for the harem—or at least for the “contest” to determine who replaces Vashti, the banished queen—who is named Hegai, oversees a preparation process for the women that takes a full year (Es 2.12). We’re told that it involves fragrances, but undoubtedly many other things were included; it was likely a “finishing school” to refine the women’s skills in beautification, in court decorum and culture, in sexuality, and in whatever else would please the king.

After the year of preparation, each of the women would spend a night with the king. This was clearly a sexual tryout, as well as an opportunity for Xerxes to engage the woman in conversation that would tell him something about her personal qualifications to serve in the official role of queen, which pertained only to the one woman so chosen from the harem. After that night, the woman would be a concubine (Es 2.14), available for the king’s pleasure at any time.

This was the way kings operated in the ancient Near East. They had exclusive rights to any woman they desired—and the glory of their kingdom was demonstrated, among other ways, by the size of the harem. It’s likely that a significant number of concubines never returned to the king’s presence after the initial sexual tryout; as we noted in the previous post, this meant “perpetual widowhood.” But they were fed, clothed, and sheltered, and their material circumstances were doubtless better than those of the common people, given that, theoretically at least, the king could request the presence of any of them at any time.

He’s the king. He gets what he wants.

When Esther’s time came, she delighted the king (Es 2.16-17). We’re not told what it was about her that took her to the top of the list, though the text does say that she “obtained favor in the sight of all them that looked upon her” (Es 2.15)—so physical attractiveness was certainly a significant factor. Given that Xerxes had observed his father’s rule as a younger man, and that he had been king for several years, he certainly knew what other qualifications were necessary in a titular queen and evaluated Esther for those as well. She likely would communicate with poise, confidence, and authority in court, as well as making a personal connection with the king. She was no jewel in a pig’s snout (Pr 11.22). She must have been quite a woman to evidence all that in a single evening.

The king is so delighted with what he has found that he proclaims an empire-wide celebration for the accession of the new queen. There’s a party in Susa, of course, but there’s also “a release to the provinces” (Es 2.18), which may have consisted of “either a remission of taxes [as reflected in the ESV and CSB] or a remission of labor (a holiday) [as reflected in the NASB, NIV, and NET].” Or perhaps a release from military duty. But all across the empire, people are celebrating.

The chapter closes with what sounds like an off-handed bit of court trivia. Esther’s cousin, Mordecai, is seated at the gate of the court (Es 2.21). As we’ve already noted, government officials often sat there, in order to be available for any command or need of the king. Maybe he’s the same “Marduka” named in a Persian text; maybe not. But from his strategic post he learns something: two high-ranking court officials are angry with the king and are planning to attack him physically. Whether Mordecai heard them talking—which is unlikely, if he’s a court official himself—or simply heard it through the grapevine, he reports it to his cousin, who is now the queen. She tells the king, and the conspirators are summarily neutralized (Es 2.23). And somewhere, deep inside the cogs of the bureaucracy, a scribal functionary presses a stylus into a clay tablet to record the event.

It will become apparent later that Xerxes doesn’t even remember this threat to his life. Apparently this sort of thing happened a lot. But somewhere, in a Persian warehouse archive, a nondescript clay tablet is filed on a shelf.

And the king, the supreme, the sovereign, lives on.

Part 5: A Roll of the Dice | Part 6: The Tease | Part 7: Any Old Tablet | Part 8: Mental Explosion | Part 9: What Goes Around | Part 10: The Missing Piece

Photo credit: Xerxes tomb at Naqsh-e Rostam (4615488322) – Tomb of Xerxes I – Wikipedia

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: Esther, Old Testament

Second King, Part 3: Selfish Aims

May 30, 2022 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: We’ll See Who’s Boss

As we noted last time, the feast at which Queen Vashti refused to appear may have been Xerxes’ effort to get the backing of his nobles for his planned invasion of Greece; the timing works out nicely.

We know how the Persian invasion of Greece went. First there was a problem crossing the Hellespont; a storm destroyed the Persian bridge, and Xerxes had the water scourged just to teach it a lesson. Then a confederation of Greeks bottled the Persian army up at the pass at Thermopylae—though only temporarily. After Xerxes conquered Athens, however, the Greeks decisively defeated the Persian fleet at Salamis, leading Xerxes to head for home. The campaign had taken 3 years.

Back in Susa, Xerxes sought comfort in his harem. It would make sense for the elevation of Esther to take place at this time.

Xerxes cannot restore Vashti (Es 2.1), because the law is irreversible. But his advisers want Xerxes happy, so they devise a plan certain to be appealing to a lecher. He would select a queen not from his existing harem, or even from the families of the council of 7, as tradition dictated, but from all the virgins in the empire (Es 2.2-4). Josephus (Antiquities 11.6.2), whose historical reliability is … uneven, reports that about 400 young women were collected. One commentator notes, “Though this sounds like a beauty contest, it was not a very happy assignment for most of the women. They were uprooted from their communities, which implied confinement to the king’s harem, and moved to what would actually be perpetual widowhood.”

Such are the ways of ancient Near Eastern potentates.

And now (Es 2.5) we meet Mordecai. He’s a Jew, specifically a Benjamite, whose exiled great-grandfather was named Kish, likely for the father of the Benjamites’ favorite son, King Saul (1Ch 9.39). As I commented in the first post of this series, the name Mordecai appears to be derived from the name of the Babylonian god Marduk. This doesn’t necessarily mean that Mordecai’s parents had adopted pagan ways; it may simply have been a common name in that culture, or his parents may have known and admired another man with the name. We know that there was another man named Mordecai in the first return (Ezra 2.2; Ne 7.7)—and we suspect that those returnees were likely to be devout Jews. Another possibility is that Mordecai himself, like Daniel before him (Da 1.7), may have had a second, Babylonian name given to him by the king or someone else in the court. Interestingly, there is a record of a court official about this time named “Marduka,” who would have good reason to be in regular presence at the gate outside the court.

At any rate, Mordecai is raising his younger cousin, Esther, whose parents have died (Es 2.7). (Note that Esther has two names as well.) Esther, being in the top percentile for attractiveness, is swept up in the empire-wide collection for the king’s harem (Es 2.8).

Some have questioned whether Esther should have cooperated in such an arrangement. I’ll note, first, that she really didn’t have a choice. Second, polygamy was not viewed in that culture with the horror we see in it today; Esther, like everyone else who has ever lived, is a creature of her time. And third, the question is moot; the point of the story is not that everything Esther or Mordecai did was right and virtuous. I’ll get to the point eventually—see the title of the series—but I’ll just say for now that in terms of the story, it really doesn’t matter whether what she did was right or not.

And so Esther joins the harem of the most powerful man in the world. Unlike Daniel (Da 1.8), she apparently eats whatever food is set before her (Es 2.9)—with the result that her Jewish identity remains under wraps. And that will become a key part of the story.

As we shall see.

Part 4: The King Gets What He Wants | Part 5: A Roll of the Dice | Part 6: The Tease | Part 7: Any Old Tablet | Part 8: Mental Explosion | Part 9: What Goes Around | Part 10: The Missing Piece

Photo credit: Xerxes tomb at Naqsh-e Rostam (4615488322) – Tomb of Xerxes I – Wikipedia

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: Esther, Old Testament

Second King, Part 2: We’ll See Who’s Boss

May 26, 2022 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction

The last episode in the Old Testament story takes place in Persia, in Susa, the winter capital and royal residence. (In the summer, Susa was unpleasantly hot and thus inappropriate for a capital.) The king is Ahasuerus—more popularly known by the Greek version of his name, Xerxes. The episode begins in the third year of his reign (Es 1.3), which was 483 BC. The Greek historian Herodotus records that after his conquest of Egypt, which would have ended about this time, Xerxes convened an assembly of his nobles and announced his desire to invade and conquer Greece (Histories 7.8). Whether this is the occasion for the party in Esther 1 is just conjecture, but the timing seems about right, and it would make sense for Xerxes to display his wealth if he wanted to convince his nobles to support an invasion of Greece.

In any case, it was some party. The palace and banquet hall at Susa have been excavated, and the roofed hall was about the size of a football field. The hundreds (thousands?) of guests could eat, and drink, as much as they wanted. For six months. This king’s resources—and therefore his powers—are endless.

Right?

In a climactic, boastful display of power and pride, Xerxes calls for his wife to parade in front of his guests.

And she refuses.

The text doesn’t tell us why. Perhaps she was expected to appear nude. Perhaps she was pregnant; if the biblical Vashti is the same as Amestris, she was the mother of Artaxerxes, who would have born along about this time. Or perhaps she just didn’t want to be paraded around in front of a pampered, privileged, drunken mob.

But refuse she does. And so “Xerxes’ action is a parody on Persian might, for the powerful king could not even command his own wife” (HCBC). Xerxes, determined to punish her, seeks counsel from his advisers. Their immediate reaction shows that they are as self-obsessed as Xerxes himself; if Vashti can refuse her husband’s command, then—horror of horrors!—our wives can too. So, they advise, pass a decree—which in Persia is unalterable—banishing Vashti. It’s a broken world if a decree issued in drunkenness binds the rulers’ hands forever.

And the decree goes out “into all the king’s provinces” (Es 1.22), translated into all the recipient languages with the efficiency of the United Nations or the BBC. We won’t have anyone, not even the queen, disregarding the power of the One Great King, Xerxes.

It’s a big empire, stretching from India in the east to Ethiopia in the west (Es 1.1). But the Persians had ways of getting the message out efficiently. They had a sort of “Pony Express,” which Herodotus describes in something approaching wonder. Allegedly the riders could deliver a message from Susa to Sardis, in western Turkey, in 9 days or less. That’s 1200 miles.

Well. I guess we’ve solved that problem. Nobody’s bigger than Xerxes. Nobody tells him what to do. Not even his wife. Nosiree.

To be continued.

Part 3: Selfish Aims | Part 4: The King Gets What He Wants | Part 5: A Roll of the Dice | Part 6: The Tease | Part 7: Any Old Tablet | Part 8: Mental Explosion | Part 9: What Goes Around | Part 10: The Missing Piece

Photo credit: Xerxes tomb at Naqsh-e Rostam (4615488322) – Tomb of Xerxes I – Wikipedia

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: Esther, Old Testament

Second King, Part 1: Introduction

May 23, 2022 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

At its heart, the Bible is a story. In the Old Testament, the story, which runs from Genesis to Esther, is about the nation of Israel, with a couple of appendices; the poetry and the prophets both give us background information and enrich the story in many ways, especially as they elucidate the nation’s relationship with God. But the story itself begins with creation and ends with … well, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Most Christians are familiar with at least the broad arc of the story. God creates the world perfect, and soon man disobeys him, plunging himself and his environment into a life of death. God promises to restore life—and his first narrated move, perhaps surprisingly, is to bring more judgment in a global flood and then in scattering Noah’s descendants across the planet.

But with one of those descendants, Abram, God begins to make a special people, soon naming them “Israel.” He makes grand promises to them, but in the short term at least, he doesn’t appear to be keeping them. Israel spends 400 years outside their gifted homeland, much of that time in slavery.

Then God calls an Israelite, Moses, to lead his people out of Egypt and back to The Land. Under Joshua they conquer Canaan, but they seem unable to govern themselves. After a long cycle of failure, they receive from God a king, David, and a promise that his line will never end.

But it does end. Or at least it seems to. Just a generation later David’s kingdom is divided by civil war, and most of the land—and the people—give sovereignty to an upstart, non-Davidic king. For 200 years there are two nations instead of one. And both sink into idolatry.

Then more judgment. God sends the rebel kingdom into exile in Assyria and warns the remnant Davidic kingdom, Judah, to straighten up. They don’t. And 150 years later they too go into Mesopotamian exile, this time in Babylon.

What about the promises—to Abram? to David?

One of many things we learn from this story is the danger of making snap judgments about God. As Creator of time and Lord over it, he has no need or inclination to hurry, and like any good teacher, he gives his students time to discover things for themselves—even if they’re slow learners.

The exiled Israelites never return from Assyria. But 70 years after Judah’s initial deportation, their enemies the Babylonians are dethroned from their regional domination when Persia overruns the capital. The Persian conqueror, Cyrus, is relatively enlightened for his time; he figures that the best way to achieve peace in an empire of conquered and displaced people groups is just to let them all go home.

And so, two years after the exiled Jews change emperors, the new guy says they can return to their homeland. Many people are surprised that the vast majority of exiles don’t take up the offer, but they shouldn’t be. It’s been at least 50 years since any of these people have seen their homeland—which means, of course, that most of the exiles had been born in Babylon. In a real sense, Babylon is home to them; they don’t feel like exiles at all.

So most of them stay. A relative few, under the leadership of Zerubbabel, and later Ezra and Nehemiah, return and begin the arduous task of rebuilding everything from scratch. But most stay.

And 50 years later, long after Zerubbabel and Haggai and Zechariah have fulfilled their ministries in Jerusalem, there is in the Persian capital of Susa, more than 200 miles east of Babylon, a Jewish man, apparently a government functionary. He is named for the Babylonian god Marduk. And his story is the last episode in the biblical story of the nation of Israel, the spine of the Old Testament.

We’ll spend a few posts looking more closely at the story of Mordecai, his king, and his cousin.

See you next time.

Part 2: We’ll See Who’s Boss | Part 3: Selfish Aims | Part 4: The King Gets What He Wants | Part 5: A Roll of the Dice | Part 6: The Tease | Part 7: Any Old Tablet | Part 8: Mental Explosion | Part 9: What Goes Around | Part 10: The Missing Piece

Photo credit: Xerxes tomb at Naqsh-e Rostam (4615488322) – Tomb of Xerxes I – Wikipedia

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: Esther, Old Testament

On Lions—and The Lion

May 19, 2022 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

I’ve been thinking about lions. The Bible mentions lions 150 times; the poets and the prophets particularly like to use leonine imagery, and we shouldn’t be surprised by that, since Asiatic lions indisputably lived in Palestine in biblical times. (Nowadays they’re pretty much limited to India.)

Several biblical characters interacted with lions—most famously David the shepherd boy, as he related to King Saul just before dispensing with Goliath (1S 17.34-37). But there were others, including Samson (Jg 14.5-18), Benaiah (2S 23.20; 1Ch 11.22), an unnamed prophet from Bethel (1K 13.24-28), the neighbor of another unnamed prophet (1K 20.36), and the ancestors of the Samaritans (2K 17.25-26).

Lions are the kind of animal that would tend to make an impression. It’s no surprise, then, that they show up as decorative motifs in important places—specifically in Solomon’s Temple (1K 7.29, 36) and in his palace (1K 10.19-20; 2Ch 9.18-19), next to his throne. That’s the image you might use if you want to make an impression on foreign visitors—or, for that matter, on your own people.

It also makes sense that significant people would be compared to lions. Three of the tribes of Israel are—Judah (Gn 49.9), Gad (Dt 33.20), and Dan (Dt 33.22)—as is the whole nation of Israel (Nu 23.24; 24.9). David, mourning over King Saul and Prince Jonathan, compares them to lions (2S 1.23), and some of David’s famed “mighty men” are compared to lions as well (1Ch 12.8). Interestingly, those men are from the tribe of Gad, which has already been mentioned.

In the New Testament, the devil is compared to a lion (1P 5.8)—which might give us pause when we read later that “the Lion of the tribe of Judah” is none other than Jesus Christ (Re 5.5).

Seeing lions up close certainly enriches one’s appreciation of the metaphor. I’ve been privileged to take 7 different trips into the Serengeti, both as a treat for BJU students on my mission teams and as an opportunity for Tanzanian orphans to see their country’s rich resource. We have seen lions up close on all but one of those safaris. One of the groups had the extraordinary opportunity to see a lioness take down a wildebeest literally right in front of our vehicles, not 20 feet away. As she choked it to death, she looked unflinchingly right at us, as if to say, “You really don’t want to mess with me …”

Which brings me to the characteristic of lions that has most impressed itself on me.

They’re absolutely fearless.

They have no predators. Top of the food chain. They’re not called “the king of the jungle” for nothing.

(And, by the way, the Serengeti, like virtually all of the rest of Africa, is not jungle. It’s savannah, much like the grassland prairies of the American West.)

You drive the safari vehicle up to a pride of lions, and they just ignore you. They look away as if bored. Occasionally one will get up and sidle around the vehicle, rubbing against it as though marking its territory. But as long as you remain quiet, you’ll be ignored.

They know you can’t hurt them.

But they are not to be disrespected. On one trip, as a male lion and one of his mates were ambling around our vehicle, the well-experienced guide, Vincent, whispered, “If you want to die, get out of the car.”

We didn’t.

On another trip we saw 17 lions lounging under the shade of an acacia tree—the second-most our guide had ever seen together. They, too, ignored us.

Confidence. Pride. Seeming disinterest.

But awesome power and speed and potential for violence and destruction.

Respect the lion.

Jesus, our Savior, is not just a lion, but the lion of the royal tribe of Judah. He has no enemies that can cause him concern; he has no predators; he has no equals. He can be calm and peaceable, just as he went to his death with no resistance (Is 53.7). He is the Lamb of God (Re 5.6).

But do not take his gentleness, his mercy, for weakness. Even as a Lamb, he displays wrath that brings desperate fear to his enemies (Re 6.16).

The Lion will deliver his people.

Filed Under: Theology Tagged With: Christology, systematic theology

… and Back Again

May 16, 2022 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

Ten weeks ago I tested positive for COVID, and two weeks later I took a break from blogging. The disease wasn’t overly bad for me—just a noticeable sore throat and some coughing—and I’m glad that I didn’t appear to get the Long variety. (I know a few people who did.)

But I could tell that the brain wasn’t at 100%, and I didn’t want to be posting my thoughts publicly when I was more likely even than usual to say something I’d later regret.

Providentially, right then we entered a point in the semester where I was crazily busy, busier than at any other time during the year. Fortunately, it’s a time I can see coming and get prepared for, but for several days it’s just Katie bar the door.

After that, the papers started to come in.

I’m one of those teachers who believes fervently in the importance of assigning writing, and specifically writing that requires thought (as opposed to those “discussion posts” you see the kids cranking out in their sleep for their online courses). As every teacher knows, the inescapable consequence of assigning thoughtful writing is that at some point you’re going to need to grade, or at least read, the output. Some of it grades pretty easily. But not all, my friend, not all.

My school used to have a policy that all major papers and projects needed to be due a few weeks before the end of the semester. That policy doesn’t exist anymore, but I still hold to the practice, for a couple of reasons. First, I need time to grade the work effectively, and the kids (or their parents) are paying a pretty penny for my due diligence. And second, it gives the students an opportunity to see their post-project grades when there’s still enough time in the semester to do something about them.

So. COVID, then post-COVID, then crazy busy, then paper-grading season. At that point I decided to just let the blog lie until the semester was done.

Commencement was a week ago, and we sent our 650 graduates off to take the next step. I had several faculty responsibilities that occupied the week following Commencement. But this past Friday I completed the last of those, and now it’s Summer Vacation.

When I began teaching full-time in 2000 (at the age of 46), I was delighted to discover that I had options for how I spent the summers. Early on I decided to look for opportunities to teach pro bono (as the lawyers say) in small Bible colleges overseas that could use some help. The first was in the summer of 2000 in the area of Cape Town. It was delightful, and not just because of the rooibos, biltong, and koeksisters.

Other opportunities followed. Saipan. Mexico. China. St Vincent. India. Haiti. And several delightful summers leading BJU student teams to minister in Africa, from Ghana to Kenya to Tanzania to Zambia to South Africa.

For six years I was my father’s caregiver during his dementia, and I was privileged to do that. Having the summers free really helped.

Well, the pandemic put the kibosh on international teaching, and in much of the world the situation’s still iffy. It’s simple enough to go teach overseas, but what if they change the rules in mid-trip? What if we can’t get back? These are not questions to dismiss lightly.

So this summer is a sabbatical. Not working anywhere officially. Teaching a handful of classes at my church, serving there in other ways as well. I have a study plan laid out, with fair amounts of reading and thinking and planning. And best of all, no inflexible deadlines. No reason not to be interrupted. Something needs to be fixed? Well, why not? Need something at the store, and traffic’s pretty heavy right now? No problem. All the time in the world. Smile and wave at the other drivers, and let that guy cut in.

Now, that environment’s just perfect for getting back into the rhythm of writing two blog posts a week. I’m looking forward to it.

Drop by the site in the days ahead if you care to.

Filed Under: Personal

Covid …

March 21, 2022 by Dan Olinger 3 Comments

I got Covid. It was pretty mild, but since then I’ve had some issues that have led me to decide to set aside the blog for a bit. Publishing things publicly when your brain isn’t at its best just doesn’t seem wise. :-)

So let’s see what happens. I’ll be around.

Filed Under: Personal

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