Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

Silent tears ran in rivulets down faces of young and old alike as the words of the edict sliced through the air. Panic tightened their throats. Terror struck their hearts. Numb minds desperately tried to make sense of what they had just heard. The day of their death had been appointed. Circled on the calendar. Meticulously staged in intricate detail. Rubber stamped by King Ahasuerus. It caught them by surprise. So did the verbiage. It reeked with hate and evil. Destroy. Kill. Annihilate. All. Every single Jew in every single part of the kingdom was destined for death. In the city. In the country. No one was safe. Infants and aged. Male and female. Wimp and warrior. All were to be slaughtered. With no provocation, no insurrection, no discord, the date of their death had been carefully scheduled. What, exactly, were they supposed to do now? 

Hearing the news of impending doom, Mordecai went into mourning. For himself. For his people. He tore his clothes, donned sackcloth, piled ashes on his head, and walked through the city to the King’s Gate. He couldn’t go further. It wasn’t allowed. No sackcloth could go beyond that point. It was fine with him. Joining the mourning of his people, Mordecai took up his post in the city square. Loudly and bitterly, he wept over their impending doom, uniting with his people scattered throughout the kingdom in fasting and prayer, begging God for help and deliverance. He wasn’t certain from where it would come, but he had an idea. They had someone on the inside for exactly a moment like this.

Tucked up inside the palace, wholly unaware of the fear enveloping her people, sat Esther. Clearly, the king had been more concerned with looks than lineage. He didn’t even know he had signed her death warrant. Had no idea about her family heritage. Didn’t know whom he’d crowned queen. But Mordecai knew. She was the reason he spent so much time outside the palace. King Ahasuerus’ chosen queen was the same young lady Mordecai had raised as his own daughter. He worried about her. Feared for her safety. Wondered how she was getting along. So he stayed close. Often. Esther’s handlers knew him. Her female servants. Her eunuchs. Everyone close to her recognized him. When they heard and saw the scene he was making out front, it was immediately reported to Esther. She needed to know. Needed to do something. Needed to make it stop. 

Sending out a change of clothes, Esther attempted to get Mordecai to put on respectable garb that would enable him to come closer so they could have a discussion. He refused. The situation was too grave to allow him to leave off his mourning without resolution. Undeterred by his refusal, Esther sent a eunuch to uncover what Mordecai was doing and why. She wasn’t expecting the answer she got. Destroy. Kill. Annihilate. All the Jews. Abused and enslaved as they had often been, not once had she thought the lives of her people would be valued in silver for the king’s treasury and signed over to slaughter. No matter how many times she read the decree, she couldn’t comprehend the impetus behind it. Nor could she stop the anxiety clawing its way through her stomach at the terrifying demand of Mordecai. Go petition the king to save her people.  

It was a ridiculous command. Esther hadn’t seen the king in a month. He hadn’t summoned her, and she certainly wasn’t going in without his request. She didn’t have a death wish. She couldn’t be certain he would raise that golden scepter of his, sparing her life. So she stayed to her duties. Tended her business. Obeyed the rules. Now Mordecai was asking her to break the mold. Change things up. Step out in faith for her people. Clearly, God had placed her in a prestigious position at a pivotal time to do His imperative work for the miraculous rescue of His people.

 Mordecai knew it. Believed it. If there was any hope for the Jewish people residing in Susa and its surrounding areas, Esther was it. God wasn’t sleeping when she was chosen as queen. He was busy. Planning. Protecting. Providing. Mordecai believed it. And he wasn’t buying Esther’s excuses. She needed to go talk to the king. Plead for them. For her people. For herself. Those palace walls weren’t going to save her. Whether or not Haman or King Ahasuerus knew her background, someone was bound to realize Esther was a Jew. They would come for her. She would not escape. The risk of approaching the king uninvited was not greater than the threat to her own life if she didn’t. God would find another avenue of rescue for His people, but Esther wouldn’t be included. This was her moment to act.  

Challenged and encouraged by Mordecai, Esther opted in. No matter how fearful she felt. Regardless of how hopeless the situation. No matter how helpless she felt. She would go in to see the king. Plead their cause. But she wasn’t going in directly. Not today. Not even tomorrow. She had some requirements. Everyone, from those in the far reaches of the city to the maids at her side, must fast and pray for three days. Pray for God to help them. Direct them. Deliver them. Pray for courage and strength to fulfill her duty. Pray for wisdom as she chose her words. Pray that the king’s heart would be softened toward her so he would allow her an audience. Pray that God would go before her and make a way where none seemed to be. 

People across Susa were already doing that. Praying. It was the only thing God’s people could do. Sitting in their own fear and helplessness. Stuck in the waiting. Searching for answers and help, and hope. Seeing human powers at work against them and being forced to admit their impotence. All they could do was cry out to God for a rescue, bombard Heaven for deliverance, pray that the king’s heart would be directed by God like water flowing through a channel. Because, stuck in a space where evil runs rampant and there appears to be nothing the righteous can do to alter the impending chain of horrific events, God’s people have one option. Pray. (Esther 3-4; Proverbs 21:1)

It worked for Esther and her people. At the sight of his queen in the doorway, the king readily lifted his golden scepter. He accepted her invitations–for both himself and Haman. He heard her story and believed her words. He destroyed their enemy and issued a second decree mitigating the first. Not because Esther was beautiful or biddable. Not out of imagined duty to his queen. Not to save face or secure slaves to work in his kingdom. No. King Ahasuerus acted in their favor because Esther and her people prayed. And God worked. (Esther 5,7) 

Centuries later, surrounded as we are by a deluge of unfortunate events, unmitigated evil, unharnessed hate, it is so easy to look around in helplessness and fear and wonder what we can do about it. What can we do to turn a country actively fleeing righteousness back to God? What can we do to stop hate in the world? What can the tiny number of righteous do to triumph over the tidal wave of wickedness surging over our society? It feels like nothing. Nothing we can do or say, teach or live seems to have any effect on the burgeoning bent toward evil around us. Acknowledging our impotence and falling victim to our fears, we helplessly shake our heads and ponder the question, “What can the righteous do?” In this day, at this hour, in the middle of these out-of-control circumstances, what can the righteous do to restore order, offer hope, render aid? (Psalm 11:3; II Chronicles 20:12; Habakkuk 1:4; Micah 7:2-4; I Timothy 4:1-2; II Timothy 3:1-5; Colossians 4:2; Jeremiah 29:12)

Friend, there is so much you can do. You can do everything. Without getting out of your chair. Without leaving your house. Without opening your computer or making a post. You can pray. Pray when the answers don’t happen. Pray when the news leaves you anxious, terrified, horrified. Pray when everything seems hopeless. Pray when things are on the upturn. Pray when they go downhill. Pray whether the outlook is bright or threatening. Pray in the car, the shower, the front yard. No matter where you are or what you are doing, don’t stop praying. Because, in times of trouble and trial and terror, when there is nothing left in the silly little arsenal of human machinations, the righteous don’t get discouraged or wander aimlessly about asking what they can do. No. The righteous pray. And God works. (James 5:16; I Thessalonians 5:7; Romans 12:12; Luke 18:1; Philippians 4;6-7; I Peter 3:12; Proverbs 15:29; Ezra 8:23)