Risky Business
Esther 7:1-6[1]
Some of you, like me, may be fans
of “The Lord of the Rings.” I’m not just talking about the movies—yes I have
the extended versions and I’ve watched them a number of times. I’m talking
about the books, which I’ve also read through more than once. You may not know
that J. R. R. Tolkien wrote them as a Christian allegory, but one that was more
subtle than that of his good friend C. S. Lewis. There is so much about these
volumes that I love. One quote that comes to mind is from Bilbo Baggins, the
hero of the Hobbit. He tells his nephew, Frodo, that “It's a dangerous
business, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t
keep your feet, there’s no telling where you might be swept off to.”[2] At
the time, little did Frodo know where his own journey out the door would lead
him.
Part of the point of this is that
it is an analogy of the Christian faith. I think many of us would like the
Christian faith to be like a refuge, a sanctuary to which we can flee to find
safety in the midst of a world that can be frightening. But that’s not the
nature of faith. If you read the Bible closely, you’ll find that time after
time the leading characters who were great examples of faith found their
journeys to be full of risk and danger.[3] In
many cases, like Abraham and Sarah, people set out on the journey of faith
never knowing where they might be “swept off to.” They discovered like many
countless pilgrims, that taking the road of faith can be risky business.
I think the story of Esther is a
perfect example of this lesson. You may
know Esther’s story better than I—she was a young and beautiful Jewish woman
living in the Persian empire with her uncle Mordecai. When the King was “in the market” for a new
queen, Esther was one of the beautiful young women from all over the empire who
“tried out” for the position of queen.
The king was vastly more delighted with Esther than any other young
woman, and she became the new Queen. But one of the King’s advisers, named
Haman, hated Mordecai and all the Jewish people. So he convinced the king to sign a decree
allowing Haman to execute all the Jewish people—because the King didn’t know
Esther was Jewish!
When Mordecai found out, he sent a
message to Esther asking her to do something about it. Now, what you have to understand is that
Esther, queen or not, was subject to the whims of the king. To approach the king without being summoned
meant risking death.[4] But Esther was a courageous woman of
faith—like many before and after her, she was willing to risk what most people
would never dream of risking! And so she
asked Mordecai to call a fast for three days, and after that she said “I will
go to the king, though it is against the law; and if I perish, I perish”
(Esther 4:16).[5]
That’s the way of faith according
to the Scriptures. Setting out on a
journey without even knowing where you’re going, like Abraham and Sarah. Or facing death in a furnace rather than
compromising one’s commitment to God, like the three young men, Shadrach,
Meshach, and Abednego. Or exposing
oneself to ridicule and humiliation to obey God’s command, like Mary did when
she agreed to bear God’s son. That’s
what faith is about. It’s not about
knowing exactly how everything is going to turn out. It’s about “hoping like mad in something”
that may seem too good to be true.[6]
And because our faith can at times call us to a path that is risky, we have to
be willing take the leap of faith while “knowing that we do not know”—and in
fact we cannot know—how it will wind up for us or where we might be “swept off
to.”[7]
For those of us who want faith to
be something protective, something reassuring, something safe, this may seem
troubling. There are many these days who look to Biblical faith to provide
rational arguments and scriptural “proofs” that they suppose will to make them
feel safe in a world that is more and more confusing. They look for clear-cut codes and fixed
dogmas to protect them from the tension of not knowing, of not being sure, of
not having all the answers. But, again
that’s not the nature of biblical faith. If you read the Scriptures closely,
you will find that faith is full of questions, uncertainty, and mystery![8] It opens us up, making us vulnerable to the
unpredictability of our world. It
challenges us take part in an amazing journey, a pilgrimage of faith that has
always been about taking the kind of risk Esther took. And because this journey
takes place right in the middle of the uncertainties and anxieties of our day
and time, it is a journey that takes all the courage we can muster.
When I began my journey of faith
40 years ago, I certainly wasn’t looking for a life of uncertainty and risky
business. I heard the offer of acceptance and God’s love and I knew that’s what
I wanted. I could never imagine at the ripe age of 14 what that decision would
mean. Nor could I possibly have any idea where the decision to serve as a
minister at the age of 17 would lead me in life. I’ll say this: the journey has
been anything but boring! But that’s the way it is for all of us. When we make
the decision to take the path of faith in Jesus Christ, we are stepping out of
our comfort zone and out the door into a life that is full of twists and turns,
full of surprises, full of risks. It’s a path that many have walked before us, and
their testimonies, both in Scripture and in the great books of the Christian
faith, bear witness to us that the commitment to follow Jesus is indeed one
that is risky business. But if we have the courage to step out on that road, it
is a road that leads us to life.
[1] ©2015
Alan Brehm. A sermon written by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm to be delivered on
9/27/2015 at Hickman Presbyterian Church. Due to illness, the sermon was not
presented. Instead it is being published here.
[2] J. R. R.
Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring,
72
[3] Cf. Karl Barth, Romans, 98-99, where he says, “Faith always involves “a leap
into the darkness of the unknown.” Cf. also Karl Barth, Word
of God and Word of Man, 76, where he says that faith impels us “out and on
to the edge of all experience, thought, and action,” and compels us “to attempt
to leap off into the air, where obviously no [one] can stand.”
[4] Cf. Sidnie
White Crawford, “The Book Of Esther,” New
Interpreters Bible III:904: “It is part of the irony of the book that the
first queen, Vashti, is banished for refusing to appear before the king when
summoned, while the second queen, Esther, is asked to risk death by appearing
before the king unsummoned.”
[5] Cf.
Sidnie White Crawford, “The Book of Esther,” NIB
III:905: “Esther's position as a woman in a male court is analogous to that of
the Jews in the Gentile world, with the possibility of danger ever present
under the surface. Esther has no guarantee that she will be successful.” She
observes (p. 906) that Esther’s situation presents us with “the dilemma of the
average believer”: “How does one find the courage and faith to do what is right
in the face of divine and human ambiguity?”
[6] Cf. John
Caputo, On Religion, 2, where he says
that “Religion is for … people who believe in something, who hope like mad in
something, who love something with a love that surpasses understanding.” He says further (ibid,
31) that “the religious sense,” which I would see as something very similar to
faith, awakens when “Something grander and larger than us comes along and bowls
us over and dispossesses us . Something overpowers our powers, potencies, and
possibilities, and exposes us to something impossible. Something makes a demand
upon us and shakes us loose from the circle of self-love, drawing us out of
ourselves and into the service of others and of something to come.”
[7] Cf. Caputo,
On Religion, 19, where he
distinguishes “not-knowing” from “ignorance” by saying that we know “that we do
not know” and we know that “this non-knowing is the inescapable horizon in
which we must act, with all due decisiveness, with all the urgency that life
demands.”
[8] Cf. Caputo,
On Religion, 128-29, where he insists
that we cannot know ultimate things, and we are therefore left with “the passion
of our non-knowing, our passion for God” and with “our love for God.” He
continues (p. 129), “In my view, the very highest passion is driven by
not-knowing … when all we can do is push on, have faith, keep going, love and trust
the process about which we lack any final assurance.” Cf. similarly, Thomas
Moore, Care of the Soul, 245-46, “The
intellect often demands proof that it is on solid ground. The thought of the
soul finds its grounding in a different way. It likes persuasion, subtle
analysis, an inner logic, and elegance. It enjoys the kind of discussion that is
never complete, … . It is content with uncertainty and wonder.” He continues (p. 246), “Intellect tends to
enshrine its truth, while soul hopes that insights will keep coming until some
degree of wisdom is achieved.”
