Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 21, September 29, 2024: Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; 9:20-22; Psalm 124; James 5:13-20; Mark 9:38-50
Three years ago this week in the liturgical year, I started writing these reflections. I have missed a few, but almost every Sunday for the past three years I have written something that bounces off the scripture readings for that day. I have now written through the three year lectionary cycle. My reflections are just that, someone sitting with scripture and trying to make sense of it. Some readings speak powerfully to me, others leave me wondering what I could say. I have been reminded repeatedly how much I am fed by the Hebrew scriptures, and not just the gospel. I probably repeat myself, because I have my pet ideas.
My reflections are always shaped by the state of the world. My first was one very much a “just coming out of COVID” one, reflecting on prayer as a way we stay connected. James’s command to “pray for one another” made me think about the previous 18 months of isolation, grief, and fear. We prayed a lot, but what for? If you don’t think that God is sitting there waiting to hear your prayer and answer your requests, what is it it does? I still think the way we are connected to not just God but to each other is the real gift of prayer. The reminder of our relationship to others, to the world, and to God is so important.
I was struck looking back at my first post that I completely ignored the rest of the week’s readings. And yet the story of Esther is a great story, and the reading for today is the basis for the Jewish celebration Purim, where people get dressed up and really party. That is not and obvious response to the story. Esther, a beautiful young Jewish virgin, is selected by King Ahasueris to replace his former queen, Vashti, who had not obeyed his order. Haman, the King’s advisor, has planned to kill all the Jews and seize their money. Esther learns of the plot, and we read here how she tells the King of it, and saves her people. At the same time, Haman is hanged, and the officials who had planned to kill the Jews are themselves killed. So the Jews are saved, but many others die. And the Jews were to remember this forever, as a a time of “feasting and gladness”.
There are many things I love about the story of Esther, which is very much a story of the marginalized turning the world upside down, triumphing over a corrupt official. In the seventeenth century, one of the responses to a misogynist pamphlet is called “Esther hath hanged Haman”. But reading it today, with a war in the middle east that began when one group carried out a brutal attack on Israelis, I am wondering. That war has led to the almost complete destruction of Gaza by the Israeli military, including schools, hospitals, and homes, and now significant damage in Lebanon. Is total destruction necessary to preserve a people? Do you have to destroy one group of people to protect another? Is there a way to get out of this cycle? How do and should our ethical obligations intersect with political and military calculations? These are not questions with one answer, and people of faith will come to different conclusions.
Pray for one another, James tells his readers. As we do, we are connected. For almost a year, I have been praying for the Israeli hostages in Gaza, but also for the people of Gaza. For years I have prayed for the hungry and homeless, for refugees and migrants, to remind myself of the needs of the world. I have also prayed for friends, for those who have been very ill or have died. At first I found it strange to pray for those I did not know, but as I have done so, I have felt my heart grow.
We are told often how divided we are in the US right now, and almost everyone feels it. I have read impassioned suggestions about how we heal the divide. One way to start is to seriously pray for one another. Pray for one another, and pray for everyone. It is not always easy, but it is what we are told to do.