When God Seems Silent... He's In No Way Absent (Esther 10:1-3)
I finished up our series in Esther on Sunday, May 10th. You can find the audio and video here. The manuscript is below.
We’re living in some hard times. Hopefully you got to celebrate some yesterday. And that encouraged you, at least a little. But this season is rough. Isn’t it?
And it’s easy to ask questions like this: where’s God in all of this? Does He even exist? If He does, why’s He silent? Why does He seem absent? Now I get that. I’ve definitely experienced my share of doubts - in my life as a Christian, and in the last couple of months.
Now some would go even further: maybe He’s not all-powerful. And He can’t do anything about it. Or maybe He’s not all-loving. And He just doesn’t care. Now most people who make those arguments are trying to deny His existence more than anything. But it’s easy for those questions to pop into our heads. Why won’t you do something, Lord? Why won’t you come down? Why won’t you speak up?
Well, today, we wrap up our journey through the book of Esther. And it’s been quite the ride - at least for me. I’m guessing I made the decision to preach through this book sometime last summer or fall. Of course, then I had no idea what we were getting into. But of course, our Father did. Today, I’m going to keep it short and simple. I’m going to revisit the four main themes of the book. And I want to touch on some of those questions I just raised. How does the book of Esther speak to our situation? Even further, what might God be saying to us during this pandemic?
Recap of Esther
Now some of you tuning in may not be that familiar with this book and story. So I want to take you back to then now. We’re in late fifth-century B.C. About 100 years before, the Babylonians had invaded Israel. They had dragged many of the Jews away. And it had come about by God’s judgment. But sometime later, another king and kingdom - Cyrus and the Persians - conquered Babylon. They gave the Jews the option to return home. And to even rebuild their temple in Jerusalem.
But for some reason, many of them didn’t. Maybe they were comfortable in their new surroundings. And that’s the situation we find ourselves in here in Esther. We’re in Susa. It’s modern-day Iran. It’s one of the four capitals of the great Persian Empire. And there, we meet Mordecai and Esther. Mordecai works in the citadel of that capital. Esther is his cousin, the woman he had taken in after her parents’ death. They seem to be fully assimilated into Persian life and culture. Their faith in the one true God, and their identity in Him, seem far, far away.
Well, I’ll have to skip some details. But the King of Persia is a man named Ahasuerus or Xerxes. He gets mad at his queen. He removes her from the palace. His friends propose a contest. Really a combination of a beauty and sex contest. To determine the queen. And Esther wins. And she moves into the palace.
Meanwhile, Mordecai makes an enemy of another man there in the government. And Haman the wicked becomes second in command to the king. He convinces Xerxes to allow him to not just kill Mordecai, but to wipe out all his people. A decree is issued. They’re all soon going to die.
Mordecai has to go to his cousin. People didn’t just pop into the king uninvited. So Esther is scared. But he convinces her. She goes in. Pleads their case. And the king hears. Haman has plans to hang Mordecai on gallows he’s constructed outside. But it’s the bad guy who ends up on the gallows. And Mordecai slides right into Haman’s spot. And with the king’s approval, they issue a counter-decree. All God’s people could defend themselves. And they do. And the book ends with a celebration we talked about last week, Purim.
Now that’s the story of Esther. In our first Sunday here, way back in January, I shared four themes that are clearly seen in the book. What I want to do this morning is briefly revisit each of them. And consider with you how they might speak to us during this pandemic. The message of this book is exactly what we need to hear. And I’m so thankful God led us this direction.
Truths from Esther
Now imagine what the Jews would have felt back then. There are lies that they could so easily believe. They could back then. And we can here today. Lies that these themes clearly address.
Here’s the first: He’s forgotten us. God has abandoned us. Now the Israelites had turned their backs on him a long time ago. And He had judged them for their sin as a result. And then this death decree - didn’t that speak loudly? That God had given up on them entirely? But He had never forsaken His promise to Abraham. And He had always preserved a remnant - a group who’d stay faithful to Him. He never walked away from His creation. And especially not His people. His redemption project was very much in effect. But it’s so easy to have our hearts go in that direction.
A pastor-friend in New York posted an article a couple of days about a peer of his there - about a black shepherd in the Bronx, in the poorest congressional district in America, who has lost 13 of his sheep to the coronavirus. Friends, there are churches that will close due to this. Lots of churches. There are many believers who are suffering. And many more will. In some parts of the world, believers have to make a choice - get food, and likely the virus - or starve.
But we have to cling to what we know is true. I think of Paul’s words in Philippians 1:6, speaking from a Roman prison to a church suffering trials themselves: “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” The Lord will build His church. He’ll finish what He started. No virus is going to mess that up. His church is still Plan A to reach the world. But hear me: He doesn’t just want to use us. He wants to be with us.
He hadn’t forgotten Israel. He hasn’t forgotten us. You know, marriages are struggling right now. The divorce rate will no doubt rise. Some of you have thought about dropping your kids off at the police station. But if we’re truly His - if we’re a part of His bride, if we’re kids in His family, He won’t forget about us. He won’t just move on.
What if we’re very much on His mind? And God is, in fact, working for our good - through this hardship? Maybe He wants us to see Him work, as a result of this pandemic, in ways that we can’t even begin to imagine. You may feel lonely. But He is near. He’s committed to you. And He’s not going anywhere. We can’t forget our first theme from Esther: God’s commitment to His people.
Here’s a second lie we can so easily fall for: He is absent. Think about how the Jews must have felt. Haman and those Persians are coming at us. And there’s not a thing we can do to stop it. And where’s God in all of this? It sure doesn’t seem like He’s in control. If so, why is this happening? Where did He go? Why did He leave us alone? God is nowhere to be found!
But what we see so clearly in the book of Esther is the invisible hand of God. He’s orchestrating things for their good. He’s working in the little things, the quiet places, to bring about His purposes. There are all of these seeming coincidences throughout the book that clearly point to the finger of God.
Mordecai just happens to overhear a plot to assassinate the king. The king later just happens to have insomnia and has the records of history read to him. Where he just happens to hear about how Mordecai saved his life. We could go on and on in Esther. The Lord wasn’t absent at all. They just couldn’t recognize His presence.
God is never named in this book. It’s the only book other than the Songs of Solomon like that. But the Lord is very much active. Matthew Henry once said, “Though the name of God be not in it, the finger of God is, directing many minute events for the bringing about of his people’s deliverance.”
Church, we have to cling to this truth, also. That He is sovereign. He is the true king - not Ahasuerus and not any earthly ruler today. He’s more powerful than any of them. And as R.C. Sproul once put it, there is not one rebel molecule in all of the universe.
My mind goes to a comforting passage - also in Philippians 1. Listen to verse 29: “For it has been granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in him but also suffer for his sake.” What’s he saying? Well, within that word for “granted” is actually the Greek word karis, or grace. Our faith - and our trials - are gifts of grace to us. That says something about our struggles, but also this main thing I want you to hear: He is sovereign over them. Do we act like that?
I’ve joked here before about being a germaphobe. But I can help you understand why. I grew up in a home where my mom said “I love you” lots of times. But she had another saying I think she said just as much. “Keep your distance.” She lived in fear of lots of things - but most of all diseases. She passed away three or so years ago. I told my dad, she wouldn’t have made it through this pandemic.
But hear me: when I use sanitizer on my hands three times after going through a drive-thru, I don’t communicate to others that God is in control. When we fall for these ridiculous conspiracy theories on the one hand, or we lash out against negligent leaders on the other, we tell the world, loud and clear: God’s not in control. Or at least we don’t act like it.
We may not be able to fully understand how He rules over evil. And over a terrible virus like this. But He does. Some people act like it’s easier if we say God has nothing to do with this. But that just has the opposite affect. It means there is no purpose. There is no hope in it at all. God has left the room. And we are all alone. Sadly, that’s how we act too much of the time, regardless.
But what if God is very much present? As He was back in Esther. As He has been throughout history - through many, many pandemics that have come and gone. What if He’s working in small ways, but in great ways - again for our good, and for His great glory? We may struggle with anxiety, but we don’t have to live that way. He still reigns. We must cling to this truth we see in Esther. The hidden providence of God.
Here’s a third falsehood we can easily believe: He will not care for us. Think back to Esther’s dilemma in chapter 4. If she approaches the king, she will surely die. But if she doesn’t, all of her people would, and probably her, too. She could preserve herself or think about her people. Now if we’ve been forgotten, and we’re all alone, then this is where it’s so easy to go.
Friends, look around in America today. All of the hoarding of supplies. All of the fighting over who’s to blame, and over where the cure’s to be found. All of the screaming about what is within our rights - with little regard for what’s best for those around us. Church, we’ve got to stand out, to be different.
We have to remember what’s true. God still has a purpose for us. And especially now. I think about Philippians chapter 2 - where Paul tells us to turn from grumbling and disputing and to “shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life.” As we live in exile here, we’re called to live as elect exiles. To look and act like God’s chosen people. To walk in love.
There has been a lot of talk about our liberty as Americans and Christians, but how does the apostle describe our Lord Jesus just a few verses earlier? He says Jesus,
Phil. 2:6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
He didn’t cling to His privileges. He laid them down - for others - for US. Paul tells us, in verse 5, “have this mind among yourselves.”
What if God wants to use us in bigger ways than we ever thought? Here in 2020. To not just care for ourselves, but those around us. Maybe that’s why He has us here. Listen to these words again from Mordecai to Esther: “And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (4:14). Church, we can’t forget the calling of God’s people.
Here’s a fourth lie that can get in our heads: He will not rescue us. Think about the Jews. They are in this mess - in Persia in the first place - due to their actions. And then Haman gets bent out of shape, and they’re all doomed. But the book of Esther is full of all of these surprises, right? Esther - of all people - gets to wear the crown. Haman suddenly is the one who gets taken down. The Jews are all gonna die… and then they’re not. It’s Haman and his boys that gets the gallows. While Mordecai and the Jews get to live - and party.
It’s so hard to feel too positive for too long today. Swipe over to Apple News for the updated death count from the weekend. Flip on cable news to see who bungled what and how today. It’s so easy to get depressed. To get anxious and scared. But things aren’t always as they seem. And we know how the story ends.
Back to Philippians, this time in chapter 3, verse 20, Paul gives this promise: “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.” We may be in exile - like the Jews in Esther. But we still have a homeland. And one day, we’ll go back there.
We know the sky went black when Jesus died on that cross. But the sun shone over that tomb on Sunday morning. We know that a day is coming when we, too, will be raised. And this world will be renewed. We have no guarantee we won’t get the virus. We have no guarantee that there will even be a cure. One thing we do know: one day our world will be turned right-side up again. And in addition to that: our Lord who parted the Red Sea and raised the dead - He’s full of surprises. Isn’t He? And maybe He’ll do something now, if we ask Him.
It’s easy to struggle with hopelessness. But we know how the story ends. He will rescue us. And if we’re His, we’ve seen Him act on our behalf before. And maybe while He has us here the Lord wants us to see His hand work - in little ways - for a while longer. Karis, we can’t forget, as God’s people, we have this hope of reversals.
Hope for the Future
Now hear me, church. Listen up, friends. God’s still committed to His people - even during this pandemic. He still is providentially ruling over and caring for what He’s made. He still has a purpose and plan for His people - especially during a struggle like this. And we still have hope. A great reversal is coming. We pray for one now. We await His return.
God is not silent. Not then, not now. No matter how it might seem. He’s speaking. And as I close, I want us to think about what He might be saying to us. Now about the time I was getting started in preaching Esther, I started listening to a podcast with Pastor Mark Sayers.
And then I ran onto his book, called Reappearing Church. I’m reading it with the elders, along with another small group in Karis. I want you to hear a quote from the beginning of chapter 2.
The secularist life script, in which humans attempt to live without having to confront the great questions of life, creates insulation against faith. However, this insulation is not as secure as it may seem. For example, during the global financial crisis of 2008, the global banking system came terrifyingly close to a catastrophic worldwide great depression, which would have fundamentally changed the kind of lives we now live. If a major war broke out between great powers such as Russia, China, India, the U.S., and NATO forces—a threat that many experts agree is increasing—our world and our lives would be radically altered.
If we endured a global flu pandemic, like the one in the early part of the twentieth century that killed millions of people across the world, how we view and process our personal potentials and possibilities would be deeply shaken. Imagine if North Korea launched a devastating cyberattack that disabled most or large parts of the world’s internet for months or years. Think about how different your life would be. Consider how you would have to readjust your life and how you access community and relationships.
In Australia, after the attacks of 9/11, church attendance went up for a short period. This was in a country across the other side of the world from the attacks. Why? Because the Western secularist bubble of radical individualism and hyperconsumerism was pierced. Briefly, the mythology that is possible to live a life without God or greater meaning for many people was rattled.
Your lifestyle, your freedom, your approach to faith and meaning are shaped by large-scale factors. Factors out of our control, which we assume to be stable and secure, but which in reality can change suddenly. The secularist life script is dependent on crucial political, economic, and social factors being in place, elements that are becoming fragile, opening a new potential for renewal and revival in the west.
So what’s Sayers saying? We can attempt to construct this life - and even professing Christians can do this - that doesn’t need God. But that kind of life is a myth. It’s impossible. And things like world wars and global pandemics can wake us up to that reality.
Sayers argues in the book that God uses transitions and crises like this - as well as disappointment and discontentment we experience - to expose our need and bring us to God. He uses trials like this to bring renewal.
This pandemic didn’t come about apart from His will. And I’m with Sayers. One big reason why God may have willed it is this: so that we could see our lives for what they are. Houses of cards. Built on things other than Him.
Those things get torn away. And what do we have left? Where do we turn? I think our Father wants to show us and teach us all how desperately we need Him. And as Tim Keller has put it, “You don’t realize Jesus is all you need until Jesus is all you have.”
We in America have had it pretty good. We’ve been surrounded by so many comforts and conveniences that we haven’t experienced the desperation so many have throughout history and around the world.
And the church in America? We’ve carried on, peddling our religious goods and services, playing church - doing things that really have no need for the Holy Spirit at all. This pandemic may be at its heart a massive wake up call. For the world. But especially for His church.
Imagine this. Your best friend asks you to go on a boating expedition. One of those trips around the world. You’ve been friends since childhood. You trust him completely. You pack your things. You hug your parents goodbye. You prepare for a long trip. It’s exciting. But you’re looking forward to all the time with him.
Well, a few days into the trip, he grabs one of your bags. He rifles through it. He grabs your laptop, some of your books and belongings, and he throws them overboard. A few days later, you wake up to find he’s also taken some of your favorite foods, your favorite beverages, and he’s thrown them out, as well.
Not but a few days later, he cuts away the lifeboat, and you see it drift off into the sea. Your satellite dish, your connection to the rest of the world, gets thrown in the drink, also. Now suddenly this trip isn’t looking as fun anymore. And you guys begin to get into it. And he says, “I thought you were excited about this mission! I thought you really wanted to hang with me!”
What could God be saying? Why might He be tossing everything overboard? Maybe it’s this. I want all of you. Not part of you. Not on certain days of the week. Not just some aspects of your life. All of you. I want your help in spreading my kingdom. I’m not here to help you build yours.
The Bible says He’s a jealous God. Don’t think a jealous boyfriend trying to control someone’s life. But more a husband who wants to protect a love that’s rightly his. He wants us. He wants you. Every bit of us.
Now I know this is complicated. I won’t begin to try to explain it all. I know hundreds of thousands of people are dying. But here’s something else for you to think about. Back to that original, old dilemma I mentioned at the start. What people say - either God isn’t all-powerful. Or He’s not really good. Otherwise, stuff like this wouldn’t happen. But maybe here’s another alternative. Maybe God’s using His might to bring about what’s best. In this world. Among His church.
Maybe He has a bigger purpose than to just get rid of our suffering in this life. Maybe He wants to drive us back into His arms. C.S. Lewis called pain “God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Maybe God loves us enough - maybe He even uses His power - to throw hardships our way - to yell at us really loudly - to get us out of our beds.
We’ve talked a lot about when things will get back to normal. Right? But is that really what we want? What have we learned during this lockdown? What things has our Father taught us? Maybe God has something better for us, maybe something more.
No, none of this has been fun. These trials have been so hard. But maybe they’re God’s way to discipline us. To give us something better. Perhaps they function something like this: “Son, no you can’t play video games - not for the rest of the week. I’m taking that away. We’re going to go spend the next five days in the mountains instead.” Maybe the norm wasn’t as good as we thought.
Sayers says we shouldn’t think of this like a reboot. Where you turn off your computer and turn it back on again. To get it to function normally again. But more like an upgrade. Where it takes some time - and a little hassle - but then it works in ways unlike it ever has before. Perhaps, brothers and sisters, He wants to use His might to bring us what’s best. But that again doesn’t mean that this is easy.
And it’s easy to want to run. One of our elders’ daughters decided she had had enough this week. Haven’t we all? She’s five, and she decided she was going to run away. She had her backpack packed. She stood out on the driveway. She was going to move into a hotel. She didn’t appreciate the way their home was run. Specifically, the way the light switch was being operated. So she was out.
We can have a similar response in this moment of crisis. We can run - like the prodigal son in Luke 15 - away from the Father - when we don’t like how He works. And we can let the trials that inevitably come next push us toward rebellion even more. Or we can let them drive us back to Him. We can look at the pig slop all around us and wake up. Instead of hardening us, the struggles can soften us. And send us back into His arms. And around His table again.
God isn’t silent. He’s whispering at some points. Shouting during this time, it seems. I haven’t forgotten you! I’ve not left you alone! I still have a purpose for you! And I’m going to make everything right again! Come home!
Church, let’s listen. Let’s come back. And let’s ready ourselves to see and experience a move of God in our lives, in our land.
Before I close in prayer, though, here’s another assignment. It won’t be quite as fun as last week. Now that we can come together in groups of less than 10, get together - still six feet away - with your DNA group this week - or maybe a group of men or women. And talk through these four questions I raised today. These lies we’re tempted to believe. Talk about your heart. Where you’re at. How you’re struggling. And pray together. Asking God to help you believe the four truths we see here in Esther. When God seems silent, He is in no way absent. Let’s pray.