God’s Redemption is Never Limited

When I talk with people about their favorite Scriptures, I have yet to hear any of them quote genealogies.  If I can be honest, genealogies are hard to identify with, and the names can be a challenge to pronounce, much less remember or catch a revelation within.  Friends, let me encourage you—Those lists of obscure names have great purpose.  In those names you will see a beautiful connection with God’s redemptive love.

Let’s start back with the first king of Israel, Saul (His story is told in 1 Samuel).  Before Saul, the people had been guided by judges, who were military leaders of sorts whom God appointed throughout Israel’s early history when the people started looking and acting like the very pagans they were trying to displace and conquer (You may recognize names like Samson, Gideon, and Deborah).  The period of judges ended with the priest Samuel, as the people asked Samuel to “appoint a king to lead us, such as all the other nations have” (1 Samuel 8:5). 

I could spend an entire article about God’s reaction to their request (We really ask God for less than His best far too often), but I have a different revelation to share with you today. 

Even after Samuel warns them that the king they want will take what is theirs, the people persist, and God sends Samuel to anoint a king: Saul.  Saul is first introduced in God’s story with—you guessed it—a genealogy!  Saul is from the tribe of Benjamin.  We learn the name of his father, Kish, and four generations before him.  We also learn that he would be an Instagram star in our time because he’s taller and better looking than anyone else in Israel.  I mean, what else do you need in a king besides looking like a superhero?

As it turns out, King Saul “the hottie” is insecure, and often overwhelmed by events.  He makes rash and foolish decisions over the 42 years he sits as king.  Saul acts downright disobediently to God on several occasions: He gets impatient when Samuel does not show up at the time they agreed upon, and takes it upon himself to perform the sacrifices that only priests can make (*BIG life lessons: Don’t get ahead of God and stay in your lane!). 

Later, Saul is directed by God to defeat the Amalekites, descendants of Esau, the older brother of Jacob (In case you don’t know, Jacob is also known as Israel, and from him come the 12 tribes of Israel).  I want to spend a little time introducing you to the Amalekites, because all of this is connected to a greater story. 

Esau, Jacob’s older, twin brother is not the favorite of the family—he sells his birthright for a bowl of lentil soup (seriously!), loses his father Isaac’s prophetic blessing, and marries pagan women his parents despise.  Esau’s first wife bears him a son, Eliphaz, who in turn has a son through one of his concubines (e.g., a slave who acts like a wife).  That son’s name is Amalek.   

Fast forward 460 years—Moses is leading the Israelites in the wilderness where they are attacked by the Amalekites, the descendants of Amalek (and distant cousins to the Israelites).  This is a great story about the power of prayer and unity in God—fun to read, too!  Moses’ aide Joshua winds up defeating the Amalekites, Moses dedicates the area to God, and then declares the Amalekites as the eternal enemy of God.

The Amalekites show up during Saul’s reign, as I mentioned earlier.  God, through Samuel, tells Saul that He wants to punish the Amalekites for the episode in the wilderness that happened about 400 years earlier in the exodus.  Saul is instructed to “totally destroy all that belongs to them” and kill everything—men, women, children—even the livestock (1 Samuel 15:3)!  Saul and his army defeat the Amalekites in battle, but Saul makes two, terrible decisions: he takes Agag, the Amalekite king hostage, and he saves the choice livestock— “everything that was good” (1 Samuel 15:8-9).  Long story short, Saul first denies that he failed to follow God’s instructions, then makes excuses, before Samuel totally shuts him down and declares that Saul is rejected by God as king for his continued disobedience. 

This declaration is much, much more than just a statement.  Soon after Samuel departs from Saul, he is sent by God to anoint David, a “man after His own heart”.  When David is anointed with oil, the Holy Spirit comes “powerfully upon David” (1 Samuel 16:13).  At the same time, the Holy Spirit leaves Saul and, instead, Saul gets tormented by an evil spirit. 

Even after David is anointed, Saul remains on the throne for another 14 years, until he dies in battle against the Philistines.  Not only does Saul die, but so do his three sons.  David is soon made king over the southern lands of Judea, and eventually, all of Israel.  What’s more, David is promised that through his line, the Messiah will come and reign over Israel forever.  Jesus comes, fulfilling that promise (2 Samuel 7:17; Psalms 132:11; Jeremiah 23:5-6; Matthew 1:1,6). 

As for Saul, his descendants’ story remains largely untold throughout the rest of the period of the kings, and what is told about them is really sad.  But Saul’s story is not over…

After the era of the kings of Israel and Judea end in the destruction of the cities and the exile of the people (722 BC for Israel, 586 BC for Judea), the story of God’s chosen people continues first in Babylon (modern day Iraq), then, eventually, in Persia (modern day Iran).  I want to pick up with Saul’s story in the Achaemenid Empire, about 530 years after Saul dies. 

In the Book of Esther, we learn that, even though the Persian King Cyrus has ordered the return of the exiled people back to Israel, some choose to remain living in their new lands.  About 60 years after the return, we are introduced to Esther and Mordecai, who are among those who decide to remain in Persia.   Cyrus’ grandson, Ahasuerus, better known today as Xerxes, is now on the throne.  If that name sounds familiar to you, this is the same Xerxes who brought his massive army to fight the 300 Spartans at the Battle of Thermopylae.

The Book of Esther opens with a celebration, during which Xerxes commands that his wife, Queen Vashti, is to be brought in before the partygoers and show off her beauty.  She adamantly refuses—rabbinical commentary offers some pretty wild explanations as to why Vashti refuses, but suffice to say, Xerxes deposes her as queen.  Xerxes wants a new queen, and it is there that we are introduced to Esther and Mordecai.

If you have been tracking with me, you already know how the two are introduced—yep, through a genealogy!  Mordecai is from the tribe of Benjamin, descended from…Kish!  What a coincidence!  We were just talking about the son of Kish from Benjamin—King Saul!  If you are not familiar with the phrase “son of” in the Bible, it can mean the actual son of, or a descendant from the person’s lineage.  I think it would likely be easier on the eyes to call someone a “son of” rather than the “great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson of”, right?  The point is that Saul and Mordecai are directly related through Kish.

Mordecai, an older cousin to Esther, acts as a guardian/father figure to her.  Xerxes chooses Esther to be his queen and Mordecai continues to informally advise her.  The story soon after introduces Haman the Agagite, a powerful noble who is highly favored in Xerxes’ court.  If “Agagite” sounds familiar, it’s because King Agag was the Amalekite who King Saul captured (then later executed).  You don’t even need to know the story to figure out that there is going to be conflict between Mordecai, “son of Kish” and Haman, “son of Agag”, and that conflict quickly and fiercely escalates. 

Mordecai refuses to bow to Haman, Haman finds out that Mordecai is a Jew, and Haman really gets offended and looks to get payback on a genocidal scale.  He is so offended that he uses his favor with Xerxes and lies to get the king to sign off on a decree to “destroy, kill and annihilate all the Jews—young and old, women and children—on a single day” (Esther 3:13).  The decree goes out across the empire, and the chapter concludes in a chilling, ominous way:

The couriers went out hurriedly by order of the king, and the decree was issued in Susa the citadel.  And the king and Haman sat down to drink, but the city of Susa was thrown into confusion. (Esther 3:15 ESV)

Mordecai gets word about the coming genocide and persuades Esther to get the king to abort the decree.  When she expresses fear of approaching the king without him first calling her, Mordecai encourages her with these famous words, “And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14).  Esther, Mordecai, and all the Jewish people in the capital city fast for three days, humbling themselves.  The Jews face annihilation, and their solution is to weaken their bodies, instead of preparing to fight in rebellion to the king’s edict.  This is what the apostle Paul recognized about God working through us, when he said, “For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:10).

You may have noticed that I have yet to mention God’s role in Esther and Mordecai’s story, and for good reason—The Book of Esther is the only book of the Bible that does not specifically mention God.  God is silent in this story, but His involvement is clear and instrumental in pivotal events, including Xerxes’ important, timely decision to honor Mordecai for a past act of loyalty to the king (Esther 6).  Did you catch that?  God’s silence in Esther did not mean He is absent in this story, and for that matter, in our stories, either!  That really encourages me, and it should encourage you!

While the pieces are falling into place for a dramatic climax between the attack planned by the descendant of the Amalekite against the Israelites, a second plot is brewed by that same man, Haman, son of Agag, to personally murder Mordecai, the son of Kish, by hanging him on a pole, which in Jewish tradition, is a cross!

Esther exposes Haman’s evil plans to Xerxes, and Xerxes orders that Haman be impaled upon “the pole he had set up for Mordecai.  Then the king’s fury subsided.” (Esther 7:10).  Haman’s estate is given to Esther, who gives it to Mordecai.  Mordecai is given Haman’s position of favor and authority in Xerxes’ court.  Xerxes then orders Mordecai to write

another decree in the king’s name in behalf of the Jews as seems best to you, and seal it with the king’s signet ring—for no document written in the king’s name and sealed with his ring can be revoked. (Esther 8:8)

Mordecai’s edict permits the Jews to prepare and arm themselves, and on the day that is supposed to be the day of their destruction (and the day after that), the Jews defeat their enemies throughout the empire, Haman’s legacy is eliminated, and, five centuries later, God redeems Saul through his descendant, Mordecai.  What Saul has failed to do, Mordecai succeeds—the “eternal enemy of God” is stopped from destroying the Israelites.  The Jews continue to celebrate their overcoming of their ancient enemy during the two-day, joyful feast of Purim.  I can’t help but think that, had King Saul been obedient, Haman would not have been in position to threaten the Jewish people.  Then again, it makes me even more sure and grateful that God is faithful to turn all things to good for those who are called according to His purpose.  In this case, God’s faithfulness included redeeming a family long-deposed from royalty, but still integral to His promise to protect His people.