One that echoes powerfully in the story of Mordecai and Haman.
Let's rewind a bit. Remember Bigthan and Teresh, those disgruntled chamberlains who plotted against King Ahasuerus? Their scheme was foiled, thanks to Mordecai. And what became of those traitors? Well, they tried to cheat justice by taking their own lives, but they were stopped, and ultimately met their end nailed to the cross. A grim fate, indeed.
But here's where the story takes a really interesting, and frankly, frustrating turn. After this conspiracy, the king decided he’d only have one chamberlain guarding him from now on, instead of two. Who do you think he chose? You'd think it would be Mordecai, right? The man who saved his life! He'd certainly earned it.
Instead, the king appointed Haman.
Now, why Haman? According to the Legends of the Jews, as retold by Rabbi Louis Ginzberg, Haman had one crucial advantage: He was loaded. Exceptionally so. In fact, outside of Korah, the infamous rebel from the time of Moses, Haman was said to be the wealthiest man who ever lived. Where did he get all that money? Well, the story goes that he'd seized the treasures of the Judean kings and even some of the Temple's riches. Imagine that.
So, there you have it. Mordecai, the loyal servant, is overlooked. Haman, the wealthy and ambitious one, gets the reward. It feels deeply unfair, doesn't it? A clear case of ingratitude, as the Legends of the Jews points out.
This sets the stage for the whole drama of Purim, a holiday that reminds us how easily good deeds can be forgotten in the face of power and wealth, but also how ultimately, justice, however delayed, prevails. It makes you wonder, doesn't it? How often do we prioritize wealth and power over loyalty and kindness? And what are the consequences when we do?