Mordecai, in the Book of Esther, certainly did. He had to communicate with Esther, his niece and now Queen, without raising suspicion. So how did he do it?
Well, according to Legends of the Jews, by Louis Ginzberg, Mordecai and Hathach, Esther's loyal servant, took a page out of Jacob's book. Remember Jacob, from Genesis? When he wanted to discuss leaving his father-in-law Laban with his wives, Leah and Rachel, he did it out in the open (Genesis 31:4). The idea was that any eavesdroppers would assume they were just chatting about the weather. Sneaky, right?
Through Hathach, Mordecai conveyed a dire warning to the Queen. He revealed that Haman, the story's villain, was an Amalekite – a descendant of Amalek, Israel's ancient enemy. Like his ancestor, Haman sought nothing less than the total annihilation of the Jewish people. Mordecai urged Esther to break protocol, to risk her own life, and plead with the king on their behalf. To strengthen his plea, he reminded her of a powerful dream he once had.
Now, dreams in Jewish tradition aren't just random firings of neurons. They can be messages, prophecies, glimpses into the divine plan. So, what was this dream of Mordecai's?
Ginzberg recounts that Mordecai, overwhelmed by the suffering of the Jews in the Diaspora – the galut, their exile – had been pouring out his heart in prayer, begging God to redeem Israel and rebuild the Temple. Exhausted, he fell asleep and was granted a vision.
He found himself in a desolate, unfamiliar desert. There, a multitude of nations were mixed together. But one nation, small and despised, remained isolated, a short distance away. Suddenly, a snake emerged from the midst of the other nations. It rose higher and higher, growing larger and stronger with each passing moment. Its target? That vulnerable little nation. Darkness and impenetrable clouds enveloped the Jews, and the snake was on the verge of devouring them.
Can you feel the tension rising?
But then! A hurricane erupted from the four corners of the world! It enveloped the snake like a garment, crushing it into pieces. The fragments scattered like chaff before the wind, until not a trace of the monster remained. And with that, the darkness vanished, and the sun shone brightly upon the little nation once more.
What does it all mean? The dream, no doubt, was a powerful symbol of the threat facing the Jewish people, but also an assurance of ultimate salvation. Would Esther understand it? Would she have the courage to act? That, my friends, is where the story truly takes off.