The Girl Queen, the Captive Conqueror: A Devotional Commentary on the Book of Esther (9:21-32)

About 5 weeks ago (March 24), the Jewish community around the world celebrated the Feast of Purim, the very feast that the Book of Esther culminates with, and whose origins it commemorates to this day.  Some 2500 years later, they still set aside a holy day to do what Esther 9:22 says they did that first Purim so long ago: observe a day of feasting and joy, giving presents to each other and gifts to the poor.  They will also, from what I understand, read the Book of Esther in its entirety, shaking rattles whenever Haman’s name is mentioned (and in some traditions, they’ll dress in colorful costumes, as a remembrance of the ‘disguised’ activity of God in this story).  In this way the community actually relives today in the saga of God’s deliverance back then, remembering in a way that invites active participation in the on-going story.

And I’m thinking about Holy Communion.  Because just like the Book of Esther is the story of God’s unforeseen deliverance when all hope was lost, a story which transforms despair and fasting into festival joy and culminates with a Sacred Feast that commemorates God’s salvation in a way that binds the community together through that act of commemoration, so too the Christian Faith.  Ours is a story of God’s unexpected deliverance, which transforms crucifixion grief into resurrection joy, and is celebrated through a Sacred Feast of bread and cup that binds us together as his people. “Take and eat, this is my body; this is my blood of the covenant, poured out for the forgiveness of sins,” is how He said it.  Inasmuch as it is about a feast that celebrates God’s deliverance, the Book of Esther is re-enacted for Christians, every time we come to the communion table and remember the Ultimate Deliverance of God’s people in Jesus Christ.

But the Book of Esther has something to teach us here about communion, I think.  Because the kind of “remembering” that happens through the Purim Festival is more than just a vague, “Oh, yeah, remember when ...”  It is actually a dramatic entering into and re-living the story, the kind remembering that brings the past to life in this present moment, and allows us to take our place in the events.  Purim celebrants are not passive recipients; they are active participants.  And what if we came to the Communion Table in this kind of spirit, awake and alive and receptive to the possibility that what happened then is still, in a unique and mysterious way, playing out here, now, in this simple feast of bread and cup?  If we did, I think, we’d be much more likely to recognize the Communion Feast for what it really is whether we realize it or not: a real encounter with the living Jesus.