And Hatach came and told Esther the words of Mordecai.
This verse is one line of reporting. Hathach walks back into the palace and lays Mordecai's whole message before the queen. The crisis outside the gate has now crossed into the king's house, and everything turns on what Esther does with what she has heard.
Esther was cut off from the news that had shattered the city. All she knew was that Mordecai was in mourning.
Esther, in the secluded part of the palace, knew nothing of the great edict that had gone out. Her maids and chamberlains told her that Mordecai was missing from inside the gate. He was sitting outside in a most pitiable condition, weeping and wailing. How this report must have shocked Esther! She was full of grief, and she sent clothing to Mordecai. Persian custom in mourning for the dead was that the closest relatives should send the mourner new garments, to put on instead of the sackcloth. Esther thought that someone in Mordecai's family had died. But Mordecai refused the garments, for he was not mourning over a death. This must have puzzled Esther still more. So she sent Hathach, one of the king's chamberlains, her personal attendant, to find out the cause of his mourning.
The messenger himself was no better informed when he set out.
Even Hatach had not heard of Haman's evil plot. Mordecai told him what had happened, and how Haman had promised to pay a large sum of money for the destruction of the Jews.
Hathach did not carry news of a private sorrow. He carried a death sentence in writing.
What, then, changed the direction of people's thoughts, threw the city of Susa into confusion, and spread deep and genuine sorrow everywhere else? The king's decree, the written word, confronted them. Here was a word no one would change, a word that must be carried out, unless someone found a way of deliverance in time. Haman's hatred by itself would have caused no sorrow, but the decree of death, issued by the one who held the power to kill, made all the difference.
That is why the case looked closed before Esther heard a word of it.
The Persian empire always held to one rule: a law once passed was never revoked — "according to the law of the Medes and Persians that alters not." So it seemed that nothing could have saved the people. The master of 127 provinces had given his royal word. He had sealed it and sent it out by couriers through the whole length and breadth of the empire. The decree fixed the day and named the people. Destruction seemed certain.
One phrase in Mordecai's message ended Esther's secret. The messenger heard it before she did.
He did not say "for this people" but "for her people." This made known to Hathach Esther's Jewish origin. Mordecai knew the great favour Esther had found with the king, and he hoped that her plea would turn aside the doom of the race.
The crisis would not let her stay hidden.
Until then Esther had remained hidden; now, in this trial, her origin will appear in broad daylight.
Mordecai did not mourn in public by accident. The report was meant to travel, and he refused every comfort until it had done its work.
The report of it soon reached the queen, as it was meant to do. Mordecai counted fully on relief and deliverance coming through her. Until it came, he refused even her own plea to take off his sackcloth and ashes.
Mourning and confidence sat together in him at the same time.
He will not put off his mourning. He refuses all comfort while the decree stands against his people. Yet he counts, and surely counts, on their deliverance one way or another. This is another of those combinations that make up character or moral glory.
Through this whole exchange of messages, no one names God.
Mordecai tears his clothes and puts on sackcloth. He goes into the middle of the city and cries with a loud and bitter cry. God's name is not written and does not appear, yet God's ears heard all the same.
- Told. The queen knew nothing of the edict. The rescue starts when someone carries her the words.
- Written. Haman's hatred alone caused no sorrow. A sealed decree of death, which no law could reverse, did.
- Named. Mordecai said "her people," not "this people." That one phrase tied Esther to the condemned and ended her secret.
- Charged. Mordecai sent the news on purpose. He counted on deliverance through Esther and refused comfort until it came.
- Unnamed. No one names God in the exchange, yet the writers hold that God heard the cry outside the gate.
And Esther spoke to Hatach, and gave him commandment unto Mordecai
Esther sits inside a palace that knows nothing of the panic outside. She can reach Mordecai only through a servant who carries words back and forth. Her reply is not a refusal. She names the one obstacle between her people and their only hope: the door to the king is shut.
Esther acts in this crisis only through a messenger. She lived shut away from the news of the empire.
Esther, in the secluded part of the palace, knew nothing of the great edict that had gone out. Her maids and attendants, whom she may have used to keep in touch with her uncle, then told her that Mordecai was missing from inside the gate. He was sitting outside in a most pitiful state, weeping and wailing… She therefore sent Hathach, one of the king's court officials and her personal attendant, to Mordecai to find out the cause of his mourning.
Mordecai chose his words to Esther with care.
He did not say "for this people" but "for her people." This made Esther's Jewish origin known to Hathach.
What Esther sends back is the law of the Persian court. One writer draws out how thin her hope is.
If Esther appears before Ahasuerus without an invitation, she faces death. He has neglected her for thirty days. One feeble resource is left: the king may be pleased to hold out the golden sceptre to her. So the only way of escape is the grace of the one clothed with sovereign authority. But can Esther count on this grace? Not at all: everything depends on the king's good pleasure. Can one count on the good pleasure of a man who has just, with a single word, wiped an entire people off the face of the earth?
Esther answers by describing the danger in front of her. One writer finds no fault in her for it.
She sees difficulty, and feels dangers; and for a time she speaks from her circumstances. There is nothing wrong in this. She tells Mordecai of the risk she would run if she went into the royal presence uninvited. Again I say, there is nothing wrong in speaking this way, though there may be weakness. But Mordecai counsels her as the stronger one. In the cause of God and His people, he stands above both his circumstances and his own affections.
Rescue does not come the moment the danger appears.
It is striking to see how the furnace may be heated seven times before the rescue comes. Esther fully realises that her life was at stake in the charge her cousin laid on her. Mordecai, however, is only the bolder in his demand, and the strength of his faith is as plain as that of Abraham.
The book of Esther never names God.
Mordecai tears his clothes and puts on sackcloth. He goes into the middle of the city and cries with a loud and bitter cry (Esther 4:1). God's name is not written and does not appear. Even so, God's ears heard.
That hidden work runs on two levels at once.
The hand and the Spirit of God work together so wonderfully in the story of Israel, as we find it in the Psalms and in the Prophets. His hand shapes their circumstances; the Spirit shapes their mind.
The sceptre Esther dreads becomes a picture of welcome.
The golden sceptre speaks of divine righteousness, power and grace. That sceptre is held out to all who come to God in the blessed and worthy Name of Christ. We can come with confidence to the throne of grace, receiving mercy and finding grace to help in time of need.
- Shut in. Esther lives shut away from the news, and answers Mordecai only through a servant. Mordecai's careful wording, "her people," tells that servant she is a Jew.
- Shut out. Her reply names the real problem. Entering the inner court uninvited means death, and the king has not called for her in thirty days.
- One hope. The only escape is the sceptre — that is, the free goodwill of the one on the throne, which no one can command.
- Honest weakness. Esther speaks out of her circumstances, and no writer faults her for it. Mordecai's stronger faith then steadies her.
- Hidden hand. God's name never appears in the story. Yet He hears the cry, shapes the events, and holds out the sceptre — and He still holds it out to all who come in the name of Christ.
All the king's servants and the people of the king's provinces do know that whoever, whether man or woman, shall come to the king into the inner court, who is not called, there is *one* law, to put [him] to death, except [such] to whom the king shall hold out the golden sceptre, that he may live; and I have not been called to come in unto the king these thirty days.
Mordecai has asked Esther to go to the king and plead for her people. Her reply names the one thing standing between her nation and rescue: a law that turns an uninvited visit into a death sentence. It also raises the question the whole book turns on: when every legal door is shut, what is left?
Esther is not making an excuse. She is reporting a rule so well known that "all the king's servants" could recite it. It made no allowance for rank.
Esther sent the answer. Mordecai heard the alarming news that the king was unapproachable. Esther herself had not seen his face for a whole month. To enter the king's presence uninvited would mean certain death. Death to all "except the one to whom the king holds out the golden scepter so that he may live." So Esther told Mordecai that she is under the same law. If she breaks it, no exception will be made, even though she is the queen.
The scepter she pins her survival on is the king's badge of office.
One of the distinguishing marks of royalty: a rod or staff of dignity. It was held out by the king to Esther. Esther 4:11.
So the very thing that could kill her — royal authority — is the one thing that can spare her when the king holds it out.
Esther's "unless" is thin. Everything hangs on a will she cannot control or predict.
If Esther comes before Ahasuerus without being invited — and he has ignored her for thirty days — she will be put to death. One weak hope is left: the king may be pleased to hold out the golden scepter to her. So the only way of escape is the grace of the man who holds sovereign authority. But can Esther count on this grace? Not at all: everything depends on the king's good pleasure. And who can count on the good pleasure of a man who has just erased a whole people from the land of the living with a single word?
The same writer reads the whole scene as a picture of a later trouble, when a people find every avenue closed:
But how can we speak of resource, when there is none, and when any access to a righteously irritated God is intercepted?
The last line of the verse is easy to skim past. It is the strangest part — a wife who cannot get in to see her husband.
Esther has no right to come into the king's presence: She had not been "called" to see the king for 30 days! This seems strange, given that she was the king's wife and had found great favour in his eyes. Worse still, the "one law" that barred anyone from the king's presence on pain of death seemed to apply to Esther just as much as to anyone else (v. 11).
Read at ground level, this is a message of despair, not strategy. Esther is telling Mordecai the case cannot be won.
Esther then gives Hatach a message for Mordecai telling him the hopelessness of the case. The object was that she might go and make supplication to the king. But how? It was one of the laws of the Persian empire that nobody could go into the king's presence. The king must send, and the king had not sent for the queen for thirty days. It was against the law to venture there.
Writers set this closed door beside the open door Christians have. What Esther risked her life for, believers already hold — and on far better ground.
A law that could not be changed guarded the way into the room where king Ahasuerus received people: anyone who came uninvited was to be put to death… Esther gained access to the king's favour, and so won the lives of her people. Those justified by faith have access into the favour of God. And to undeserving people like us, the Lord Jesus Christ is infinitely more than the golden scepter held out to Esther.
The gap God has closed is far wider than a palace corridor. The place He gives us outranks anything in creation:
God has in Christ saved us out of a misery much worse and brought us into His own presence. This place of privilege at His own table means close fellowship with Him, true spiritual honour, and the greatness that goes with such a high position. It should fill our hearts to overflowing with thankfulness and praise… Even the highest created beings, the angels, do not have such a privilege; they are only servants.
- Law. One rule covered everyone in the palace: come to the king uninvited, and you die. Being queen bought Esther no exemption.
- Distance. Thirty days without a summons showed she had no right of entry, though she was the king's own wife.
- Scepter. The golden staff was the mark of royal authority. The power that could condemn her was the only power that could spare her.
- Grace. Her one "unless" rested on the king's good pleasure. She could not command it, and had no promise of it.
- Access. Christians face no such closed door. Through Christ they have access into the favour of God — a nearness the angels themselves do not have.