It wasn't just a snap decision, that's for sure. According to the Megillah, the Book of Esther, Haman was very particular in his wicked plans. He didn't just pick a date out of thin air. He wanted the stars, or at least the lots, to align in his favor.
According to the Talmud, and retold beautifully in Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, Haman sought to determine the most auspicious moment for his undertaking by casting lots. He consulted with his astrologers and advisors, seeking a day that would guarantee success. But here's where the story gets interesting. The scribe, Shimshai, began to cast the lots, and each day of the week seemed to rebel against Haman's evil intentions.
Let's start with Sunday. It was deemed inappropriate, the lot refusing to comply, since it was the day God created heaven and earth. The very existence of creation, the story reminds us, depends on Israel's existence. Think about that! Without God's covenant with Israel, there would be neither day nor night.
Monday fared no better. The lot for Monday showed itself equally unpropitious for Haman's devices. Why? Because it was the day on which God separated the celestial and terrestrial waters. This separation, in the midrashic imagination, symbolizes the separation between Israel and the heathen nations. Monday, therefore, refused to cooperate in bringing about the ruin of Israel.
Tuesday, the day on which the vegetable world was created, also refused to give its aid in bringing about the ruin of Israel, who worships God with branches of palm trees. We find this association, of course, during the holiday of Sukkot, where the lulav, the palm branch, is central.
Wednesday, too, protested against the annihilation of Israel, declaring, "On me the celestial luminaries were created, and like unto them Israel is appointed to illumine the whole world. First destroy me, and then Thou mayest destroy Israel." A powerful image, right? Israel, like the stars, are meant to bring light to the world.
Thursday chimed in, saying, "O Lord, on me the birds were created, which are used for sin offerings. When Israel shall be no more, who will bring offerings? First destroy me, and then Thou mayest destroy Israel." So even the potential lack of sacrifices weighed in against Haman's plan!
Friday was unfavorable to Haman's lots because it was the day of the creation of man. And, according to the midrash, the Lord God said to Israel, "Ye are men." This echoes the sentiment that Israel embodies humanity at its finest, a concept found throughout Jewish tradition.
Least of all was the Sabbath day inclined to make itself subservient to Haman's wicked plans. It said, "The Sabbath is a sign between Israel and God. First destroy me, and then Thou mayest destroy Israel!" The Shabbat, the ultimate symbol of the covenant between God and the Jewish people, stood firm in its opposition.
In essence, every day of the week, each representing a different aspect of creation and the covenant between God and Israel, refused to cooperate with Haman's evil plot. It's a testament to the enduring connection between the Jewish people and the divine, a bond that even the most sinister intentions could not break.
So, what are we to take from this? Perhaps it's a reminder that even in the face of overwhelming odds, the universe itself might just be conspiring in our favor. Or maybe it's a lesson that even the most meticulously planned schemes can be undone by the power of faith and the enduring strength of the covenant. Whatever your takeaway, it’s a story that makes you think twice about the forces at play, seen and unseen, in our lives.