Hidden Hands, Daring Choices: The Vocation of Identity - For Just Such a Time as This (Esther 4)

The story of Esther begins not with a prayer, but with a party—and a deeply broken one at that.

We find ourselves in the capital of the Persian Empire, where the King is throwing a massive, months-long display of ego and excess - to be exact, a 187-day long party. It is a world of drunken whims, staggering patriarchy, and unfair power. When Queen Vashti refuses to be paraded like a trophy before the King’s guests, the court panics. They don’t just banish her; they issue a fearful decree to every corner of the empire, commanding that every man must be the absolute master of his own home. Imagine that! But, it is in this chaotic, high-stakes atmosphere that a search begins to find a new queen.

Enter Esther and her cousin Mordecai. They are Jews - outsiders living in exile, navigating a culture where they are the "other." Following Mordecai’s advice, Esther enters the palace but hides who she is, living in a protective closet of assimilation. She wins the crown by blending in, while Mordecai stays outside the gates, watching over her.

But the air grows heavy with the rise of Haman, a man consumed by pride. When Mordecai refuses to bow to him, Haman’s rage turns deadly. He offers the King a massive bribe to destroy all Jewish people, casting lots to set the date of their destruction. As the decree of death is posted, the city falls into confusion. The distance between the comfort of the palace and the grieving streets becomes a canyon that can no longer be ignored.

Let us listen now to the heart of this struggle, as we read from Esther, chapter 4, verses 1 through 17.

When Mordecai learned all that had been done, Mordecai tore his clothes and put on sackcloth and ashes and went through the city, wailing with a loud and bitter cry; he went up to the entrance of the king’s gate, for no one might enter the king’s gate clothed with sackcloth. In every province, wherever the king’s command and his decree came, there was great mourning among the Jews, with fasting and weeping and lamenting, and most of them lay in sackcloth and ashes. When Esther’s maids and her eunuchs came and told her, the queen was deeply distressed; she sent garments to clothe Mordecai, so that he might take off his sackcloth, but he would not accept them. Then Esther called for Hathach, one of the king’s eunuchs who had been appointed to attend her, and ordered him to go to Mordecai to learn what was happening and why. Hathach went out to Mordecai in the open square of the city in front of the king’s gate, and Mordecai told him all that had happened to him and the exact sum of money that Haman had promised to pay into the king’s treasuries for the destruction of the Jews. Mordecai also gave him a copy of the written decree issued in Susa for their destruction, that he might show it to Esther, explain it to her, and charge her to go to the king to make supplication to him and to entreat him for her people. Hathach went and told Esther what Mordecai had said. Then Esther spoke to Hathach and gave him a message for Mordecai: “All the king’s servants and the people of the king’s provinces know that, if any man or woman goes to the king inside the inner court without being called, there is but one law: to be put to death. Only if the king holds out the golden scepter to someone may that person live. I myself have not been called to come in to the king for thirty days.” When they told Mordecai what Esther had said, Mordecai told them to reply to Esther, “Do not think that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews. For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.” Then Esther said in reply to Mordecai, “Go, gather all the Jews to be found in Susa, and hold a fast on my behalf, and neither eat nor drink for three days, night or day. I and my maids will also fast as you do. After that I will go to the king, though it is against the law, and if I perish, I perish.” Mordecai then went away and did everything as Esther had ordered him.

On this Pride Sunday, we find ourselves standing with Esther at the threshold of that very inner court we just read about.

Many in the LGBTQ+ community know the heavy, stifling air of that protective closet. They know the trade-off: the silence offered in exchange for a little bit of safety. For Esther, the palace was a place of security, of silk and perfume, provided she never mentioned where she came from. Her hesitation to help wasn’t a lack of faith; it was a terrifying reality. She knew the law: to approach the King without an invitation was to court death.

She was living a fractured life. There was the "Queen Self"—the one who walked the halls of power—and the "True Self"—the one connected to the Jewish people - her people - mourning in the streets.

But notice who bridges this gap: it is Mordecai. He stands outside the gates, wearing sackcloth - an external garment that symbolizes a deep internal anguish. In wearing it Mordecai refuses to let the palace forget the pain in the streets. As the sound of weeping reaches the palace walls, the silence of Esther's closet begins to feel less like a sanctuary and more like a cage. Mordecai’s voice pierces through her fear, reminding her of a hard truth: privilege is never a permanent shield against hate.

This brings us to the great "Perhaps" of the story.

The Book of Esther never mentions God by name, yet God’s fingerprints are all over this messy melodrama. When Mordecai challenges Esther, he says something profound: “If you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish.”

Then comes the question that transforms her life: “Who knows? Perhaps you have come to this royal position for just such a time as this.”

This "perhaps" suggests that her placement in the palace wasn’t an accident, but a purposeful calling. And let’s be honest: Esther and Mordecai were not perfect saints. They were complicated people breaking traditional religious laws just to survive in a hostile empire. Yet, God does not wait for our perfection to use our presence. God works through the mess, the unexpected twists, and the ordinary people who choose to act.

Beloved, this is where the story lands on us. We must talk about our own palaces.

For many of us in this community, our lives look a lot like the palace. We enjoy the security of being the majority. We possess the privilege of racial equity, financial stability, or the ease of moving through the world as individuals without fear of rejection or judgment.

Mordecai’s challenge to Esther is a direct challenge to us: our positions of safety are not personal prizes; they are structural responsibilities.

If you are straight, if you are white, if you are secure—you are being called to the vocation of the palace. Your privilege is not something to feel guilty about; it is something to leverage. God is asking us: Will you use your comfort to shield your own silence, or will you use your access to open the gates for others?

For the few among us who do know the exhaustion of the closet, the message of Pride is an invitation to claim your whole self—to refuse to let the world break you into pieces. But for the rest of us, Pride is a calling to stand outside the gates like Mordecai, to listen to the stories of pain, and to use whatever power we have to change the decree.

This turning point requires a shared courage. Esther did not act alone; she asked her community to fast and stand with her. Her final resolve—“If I perish, I perish”—is the ultimate act of solidarity. It is the moment her privilege and her identity became a tool for justice.

Her bravery reminds us that our liberation is bound up in one another. On this day, as we celebrate the magnificent diversity of God’s creation, we have to ask: What risks are we, the comfortable majority, called to take to ensure that those outside the gates can move from mourning to celebration? Shared courage is the bridge between a world of exclusion and a future of joy.

And a spoiler here. At the end of this story, the mourning in the streets will become a festival of joy. This story teaches us that God is committed to healing this world, even when God seems hidden in the shadows of power and policy. God uses ordinary, complicated, privileged, and marginalized people alike to weave a story of hope. 

Go forth from this place knowing that your position in this world is a calling. You have been placed in your families, your workplaces, and this community for just such a time as this.

May we have the courage to claim our whole selves, the wisdom to share our privilege, and the strength to love out loud—trusting that the God of the "Perhaps" is weaving all of us together for good.

Amen.

God's Promises Bring Hope: Trust and Blessing

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Who here has seen the classic musical, The Sound of Music? Anyone remember how old they were when they saw it? I was seven years old. My great aunt Lottie took me to see it. She loved musicals and wanted to share her love of them with me.

Do you remember the opening scene? Well, in case you don’t or if you’ve never seen it, I have a treat today for you. Let's watch.

Now, why do you think I would play this opening scene to introduce today’s story? Anyone have an idea? 

Our story today about Abram is a turning point in the book of Genesis. Before this chapter, Chapter 9, we have all those familiar stories that make up what scholars call the “primeval history”--Creation, The Fall, Cain and Abel, and Noah and the Flood, which we heard last week. But, beginning this week, the focus narrows. Instead of stories about cosmic beginnings, we focus in on one couple, Abram and Sarai. So, just like the opening scene in The Sound of Music, where we begin way up high and have a wide-angled view of the Austrian Alps,  we see this tiny figure on top of one of the mountains, and then the camera pulls us in and zooms into this person who then fills the entire frame. With today’s story, we now have zoomed in on a closeup of Abram. And of Sarai, his wife. 

As we began worship today, we talked about the incredible trust in God that Abram must have had. I invited you to think about people in your lives that you trust, what it might feel like if you had no one you could trust, and, then, to wonder if someone asked you to pick up and move, whether you would. Like Abram.

I wonder how Abram felt. Perhaps a little scared? I wonder if he had hopes, too? One of the things we will hear today is how God’s promises bring hope to Abram. 

Do you have hopes in your life? Perhaps they’re hopes for the future. Or for your family. Or for something else. What are your hopes? 

Today, as we hear the story, we’re going to journey right along with Abram. We begin in Genesis, chapter 12. 

The Lord said to Abram, “Leave your land, your family, and your father’s household for the land that I will show you. 2 I will make of you a great nation and will bless you. I will make your name respected, and you will be a blessing.

3 I will bless those who bless you,
    those who curse you I will curse;
        all the families of the earth
            will be blessed because of you.”

4 Abram left just as the Lord told him, and Lot went with him. Now Abram was 75 years old when he left Haran. 

Do you, first of all, notice that there doesn’t seem to be anything special about Abram? In last week’s story about Noah, we read that he was a righteous man, blameless in his generation. And that “Noah walked with God.” But, there’s nothing like this in the first verses of our story today about Abram. 

Hmmm...something for us to think about.

Back to our story, we’re on this journey today with Abram. What do you do when you’re preparing to go on a journey? You plan your trip. Pack your bags. What are some of the things that you pack when you go on a journey? Yes, you might take clothing, toiletries, shoes, maybe a book to read along the way. All of these are things that we might pack in our suitcase as we prepare to go on our journey. 

But what if the journey you were taking meant you were leaving everything behind that was familiar to you and never returning? We heard in the opening verse that God told Abram to leave behind his land, his family, and his father’s household, which also meant leaving behind his entire inheritance. Everything and everyone Abram knew--God asked him to leave it all behind.

What might that feel like? Leaving your entire, familiar life behind? Oh, and do you remember hearing that Abram was 75 years old when God called him? Any of you 75-year-olds out there ready to leave everything behind and follow God’s call? Just like Abraham?

We continue our reading at verse 5. Abram took his wife Sarai, his nephew Lot, all of their possessions, and those who became members of their household in Haran; and they set out for the land of Canaan. 

Now Abram had already moved once, from Ur to Haran. He had traveled there with his father Terah and his nephew, Lot, many years before. They had originally planned to travel all the way to Canaan. But, when they arrived in Haran, they decided to settle there. By the time of our story today, they’ve already been living in Haran for many, many years. But, Haran is where the journey with Abraham begins today. 

Pretend that you are taking your family members and others sitting around you. We’ll leave Haran and head south.  Okay, this is Canaan, land of milk and honey. Oh, but, we’re not staying here! 

Verse 6. When they arrived in Canaan, Abram traveled through the land as far as the sacred place at Shechem, at the oak of Moreh. The Canaanites lived in the land at that time. Abraham passed through the land of Canaan and kept going to Shechem, to the oak at Moreh. 

It is here, at the Oak of Moreh, that God appears to Abraham!  Verse 7. The Lord appeared to Abram and said, “I give this land to your descendants,” so Abram built an altar there to the Lord who appeared to him. 

What do you think it would be like to have God appear to you? What would God look like? What would God sound like? What else might be happening if God appeared? Would the earth itself react, say, through the weather? Or what about the animals? How would they react? 

It was after God appeared that God then said to Abraham, “I give this land to your descendants.” In response, Abraham built an altar to God here in this place, knowing that the land would belong to his descendants. Now Abram’s altar was probably made of big rocks. 

Next Abraham and his family moved on to the hill country east of Bethel. Let’s read verse eight and see what happened here.  Verse 8. From there he traveled toward the mountains east of Bethel, and pitched his tent with Bethel on the west and Ai on the east. There he built an altar to the Lord and worshipped in the Lord’s name. 

Abraham pitched his tent, so let’s plan to stay for awhile, too. In this place, then, with Bethel on the west and Ai on the east, Abraham built another altar! And, then, after leaving everything familiar behind and moving to this new and unfamiliar place, Abraham worshipped God. 

And our story ends with verse 9:  Then Abram set out toward the arid southern plain, making and breaking camp as he went.

That was quite the journey. Let’s “unpack” it a little bit. 

In our story last week, we heard that this God of Israel was not like all of the other gods. Rather than destroying the entire world, this God chose to preserve life. But God is now on the hook. God needs to show that he truly isn’t like all the other gods. 

And so, God picks a man. Abram. No one special. Just someone who is pretty ordinary. Like you and I. God calls this man to pickup his family and move across an entire country. Leaving everything behind. Knowing that he will probably never see his father or the rest of his family ever again.

It takes some serious trust, doesn’t? For Abraham to do exactly what God calls him to do? I wonder if you and I would be like Abram. Trusting. Never questioning.

I belong to a few closed clergy groups on Facebook. A few days ago a pastor in San Antonio posted in the group. “Help!” she posted. “I’m trying to make a point in my sermon! Can you help me think of people who felt they weren’t worthy. Or aren’t capable of God’s call for them?” Within 30 minutes, there were 40 posts. The first several listed people in Scripture who had resisted God’s call: Amos, David, Mary, Paul, Samuel, Gideon, Isaiah, Jonah, Jacob, Jeremiah…. And, then, someone asked the question, “Did YOU immediately answer God’s call?” What followed then was post after post from pastors saying, “No, I didn’t.” 

How is your journey like Abraham’s? How are his travels similar to the path you have been on with God so far? Maybe they’re not the same. Maybe you’re still resisting. If you are, you’re not alone. But, God selects us in grace, as ordinary as we might be. As resistant as we might be. And God calls us onto a journey. In our baptism, God called and continues to call us. Onto a journey. A journey of trust. A journey of blessing.

Yes, blessing. Because we know this story of Abram. God made a promise with Abram and his barren wife, Sarai. A three-fold promise. Of descendants. Of land. And of blessing. That they would be blessed so that they might be a blessing to others. It was this promise--this covenant--from God that gave them hope.

Trust and blessing. That’s the story of God’s call to Abram and Sarai. Where is God calling you? No matter where, God promises to be with us. It is in those promises, fulfilled in Christ, where we find our hope.

Let us pray: God, thank you for giving each of us a journey and for guiding us on our way. Thank you for blessing us to be a blessing to others. Amen.

Preached Sunday, September 16, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Pentecost 17
Readings: Matt. 28:19-20; Gen. 12:1-9

Being Called

Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.

At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. Then the Lord called, “Samuel! Samuel!” and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down. The Lord called again, “Samuel!” Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.

Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” Then the Lord said to Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle. On that day I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. For I have told him that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them. Therefore I swear to the house of Eli that the iniquity of Eli’s house shall not be expiated by sacrifice or offering forever.”

Samuel lay there until morning; then he opened the doors of the house of the Lord. Samuel was afraid to tell the vision to Eli. But Eli called Samuel and said, “Samuel, my son.” He said, “Here I am.” Eli said, “What was it that he told you? Do not hide it from me. May God do so to you and more also, if you hide anything from me of all that he told you.” So Samuel told him everything and hid nothing from him. Then he said, “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

As Samuel grew up, the Lord was with him and let none of his words fall to the ground. And all Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba knew that Samuel was a trustworthy prophet of the Lord. The Lord continued to appear at Shiloh, for the Lord revealed himself to Samuel at Shiloh by the word of the Lord. 1 Samuel 3:1-21 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from God--our Creator, our Redeemer, and our Renewer. Amen.

As we begin today’s story--the calling of Samuel--we have fast forwarded in history from our lesson last week. There’s been some serious time travel across the books of Exodus, Joshua and Judges.

When we last gathered together, we were following the exodus of Israel out of slavery in Egypt into wandering in the desert. After freeing Israel, God reconstructed them in the Sinai wilderness. It was here that God entered into covenant with Israel--that they would be God’s own special people. Under this agreement, God promised to be their God if they would follow the Instruction given to Moses--the law that Moses had received from God on Mount Sinai. Israel was a people governed directly by God through Moses, who acted as mediator. They were a people blessed by God. Blessed so that they could be a blessing to others.

After a generation of moving through the wilderness, they reached the land promised to them by God. The land of Canaan. It is here, at the point of entry into this Promised Land, that Moses dies. It is here that Joshua steps in as Moses’ successor, as the new leader of and mediator for Israel. Throughout the book of Joshua, we learn of Israel’s entry and settlement in Canaan. The story ends with yet another renewal of the covenant between God and Israel. It also ends with Joshua’s death.

The book of Judges, in picking up the story of Israel--of God’s people--deals with two questions. How will Israel now conduct its affairs as the people of God who are settled in their God-given home? And, how will Israel be governed now that there is no Moses or Joshua to exercise leadership?

It is not long in Canaan, before it all begins to fall apart. Before people go astray. That they are conquered by a nearby nation. Then, they cry out, as we have so often heard them do before. And, God, faithful always, responds. 

In response, God sends in a prophet-judge, who assists in bringing God’s people back to faith. Back into covenant with God. This pattern repeats itself over and over and over again through the book of Judges. Judge after judge. Othniel, Ehud, Shamgar, Deborah, Barak, Jael. Then, finally, Samuel. 

Which is where we begin today.

As our lesson opens in 1st Samuel, chapter 3, Samuel is a young child, serving the priest, Eli, in the tabernacle at Shiloh, the tabernacle that had been established at Shiloh by Joshua. During the period of the judges, Shiloh has become the center of religious life for Israel. 

The tabernacle housed the Ark of the Covenant. The Ark was essentially a chest that contained various things. The tablets of the Law and the staff of Aaron, brother of Moses, among other things. It was kind of like a portable power center for Israel. It signified God’s presence, even an intensification of God’s presence for Israel. It was the most treasured object that Israel had--a sign of the presence of God.

It was here, at the tabernacle, that Eli was the priest. His two sons were also ordained, as well. In the earlier chapters of 1st Samuel, we have learned that Eli’s sons have not been faithful. They’re kind of stereotypical PK’s--pastor’s kids. In fact, Eli’s two sons have become corrupt. They are stealing from the offering plate. As called and ordained priests, they are sinning directly against God, by stealing from the treasury. The opening verse of our lesson today reads that the Lord’s word was rare at that time and visions weren’t widely known. One can only wonder whether it was the conduct of the clergy that was obscuring the ability of God’s own people to hear or to experience the living Word of God. That the institution was getting in the way of hearing God.

And, so, God plans to do a new thing.

This new thing is Samuel. It is into the midst of this corrupt institution that Samuel enters in. Samuel, a young child, given up in service to God by Hannah, his mother. This child, Hannah’s first fruit offering back to the Lord, serves Eli, the temple priest.

In the early verses of our story, Samel is obediently resting beside the Ark. As he sleeps, he hears his name called. “Samuel! Samuel!” 

“Here I am!” Samuel replies. Heneni, in Hebrew. We’re heard this response before haven’t we? Abraham. Jacob. All of them responding to God’s call with the words, “Here I am.” Heneni.

But, Samuel is young. He has never before experienced the word of the Lord. He thinks that it is Eli who is calling him. And, at this point, Eli, himself, doesn’t even recognize that it is God who is calling Samuel--Eli, so disconnected from God, fails to realize at first that it is God who is calling Samuel. 

This happens two more times. Finally, the third time, it dawns on Eli who is calling Samuel. And, so, Eli instructs Samuel how to respond. 

So, the fourth time, when God calls Samuel, he knows how to respond and he does. God, then, speaks to Samuel and calls him to become truth-teller to Eli. To confront Eli with the truth of the patterns that are abusive within his own family and all those whom they touch.

You see, God is not content to let things be. God is unwilling to allow patterns of corruption and abuse to remain concealed and to be perpetuated from generation to generation. This is one of God’s primary purposes for enlisting Samuel as judge and prophet. To be truth-teller. 

It is also God’s purpose for Samuel to lead God’s people through the coming crisis, the coming threat of the neighboring Philistines--a military crisis through which the priestly house of Eli will be punished and the Ark of the Covenant eventually lost. 

Samuel will be the last of the judges. He will guide Israel through crisis, will bring them back to repentance, and will bring about, through God’s power, their deliverance and the return of the Ark of the Covenant.

God calls Samuel. And God equips Samuel to do God’s work. 

In the same way God calls each of us. And God equips each of us to do God’s work. Each of us has a calling. In fact, each of us has multiple callings, multiple vocations. Vocations that are both paid and unpaid. Worker. Neighbor. Sibling. Child. Parent. Grandparent. 

Luther wrote extensively on the topic of vocation. It is at the heart of our Lutheran tradition. About how each of us has been freed from the guilt and shame of our own brokenness through the saving power of Christ on the cross. And about how, then, each of us is freed to live into our baptisms and to live out our baptismal callings, in our personal lives and in the life of our community, here and out there.

How are we living into our callings? How are we living more fully into who God intends us to be so that, as we are blessed, we might be a blessing to others?

On this day when we are, in particular, lifting up the calling--the vocation--of farmers, I’m reminded of my own father, who was a farmer. A rancher-farmer. On our ranch in north central South Dakota, we raised sheep and cattle. We averaged 1,000 head of sheep and 400 head of cattle. We raised 1,200 acres of alfalfa as feed. 

Now, my father could have been content to live comfortably on the income provided from our ranch. Yet, he understood that it wasn’t simply about his comfort. He understood that through his vocation as farmer he was to serve God and to bless others with the blessings God had bestowed on him. 

It was not unusual for my father to be daily helping out our neighbors. To give the elderly couple living north of us several orphaned lambs that they could raise and sell to supplement their fixed income. Or to help out a neighboring farmer in a harvest. Or, even, to give rides in the middle of the night to the Native Americans who were walking the 60 miles between reservations and, who often stopped at our farm along the way, to ask if they might sleep overnight in our barn.

My father was not a perfect person. He sometimes had a temper that could get out of control. On occasion, he could get himself into trouble, particularly with my mother. But, I think he understood that, in his vocation as farmer, he was called upon to share the blessings God had given him. To live out the forgiveness and grace he had received as a gift from God through Christ in his own life by serving others.

Do you hear God calling you? Do you hear God calling you to be the blessing God has called you to be? In whatever vocations you have? To live more fully into your baptismal covenant as a child of God? Are you listening?

And, then, are you responding? And, how are you responding? As farmer? As son? As daughter? As grandparent? As parent? Perhaps it is as simple as sitting down with your child or your grandchild and simply listening to them for fifteen minutes. Listening, without telling them what they have done wrong or what they should or shouldn’t do. Just being present with them, hearing them. And being the blessing for them that God intends us to be. 

How will you live out your call today? And tomorrow? And into the future? God has called and equipped each of us. May we be as faithful with our call as young Samuel. May we be a blessing to others as richly as God has blessed us. Amen.

Preached October 14, 2017 at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
19th Sunday after Pentecost
Readings: 1 Samuel 3:1-21, John 20:21-23.