to a story from Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, specifically chapter 50, that gives us a glimpse of just how precarious things once were.
Rabbi Phineas tells us about two incredibly wealthy and powerful men: Korah, within Israel, and Haman, among the nations. Both, in their own way, posed existential threats. But it’s Haman, of the Purim story, who really grabs our attention. He had, as the text puts it, "the treasures of the kings of Judah." How did he get so powerful?
Well, King Ahasuerus (yes, that Ahasuerus of the Purim story) saw Haman’s wealth, saw his ten sons acting as his personal guard, and, impressed, decided to elevate him. As it says in Esther 3:1, "After these things did king Ahasuerus promote Haman, the son of Hammedatha." Sounds like a classic case of being in the right place at the right time... or perhaps something more sinister was at play.
The king commanded everyone to bow down and show reverence to Haman. But here’s where things get truly disturbing. Haman, in his arrogance, had an image of an idol embroidered onto his clothing, right above his heart. So, when people bowed to Haman, they were, in effect, bowing to an idol. Talk about a power trip!
Mordecai, bless his courageous heart, saw this and refused to bow. Esther 3:2 tells us plainly, "But Mordecai bowed not down, nor did him reverence." This act of defiance, this refusal to compromise his principles, set in motion a chain of events that threatened the entire Jewish people.
Haman was enraged, absolutely consumed by wrath. He thought, "These Jews have hated my forefathers for ages, and now I will convince the king to destroy them all!" According to Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, this hatred was ancient and deeply rooted.
So, Haman goes to Ahasuerus and paints a picture of the Jews as a disruptive, disobedient, and ultimately useless population. "There is a certain people scattered abroad and dispersed among the peoples in all the provinces of thy kingdom," he says, as recorded in Esther 3:8, "and they are of no benefit to thee and do not obey thee, and they do not perform thy will, and it is not for the king's profit to suffer them."
And then comes the kicker: Haman offers the king half of his wealth if he agrees to let him destroy the Jews. "If it please the king, let it be written that they be destroyed" (Esther 3:9). Can you imagine the audacity? The sheer evil of this proposition?
The king, astonishingly, agrees. He tells Haman, "Behold, they are given into thy hand for nought," as it says in Esther 3:11, "And the king said to Haman, The silver is given to thee, the people also." The king basically says, "Do what you want with them." No questions asked. Just pure, unchecked power handed over to a genocidal maniac.
But even in this darkest of moments, there’s a glimmer of hope. Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer tells us that the Holy Spirit cried out, quoting Isaiah 52:3: "Thus saith the Lord, Ye were sold for nought, and ye shall be redeemed without money." This verse becomes a beacon, a promise that even though they were sold for nothing, they will be redeemed without having to pay a price. It is a message that God is still with them, even in the face of annihilation.
This story from Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer isn’t just a historical account; it's a powerful reminder of the fragility of existence, the ever-present threat of antisemitism, and the importance of standing up for what's right, even when it’s terrifying. It reminds us that even when things seem hopeless, redemption is always possible. And that the courage of one person, like Mordecai, can change the course of history. It makes you wonder, doesn't it, what kind of courage we can muster in our own lives?