Esther 6:12

Meanwhile, at the last moment, the wicked man is not left without a solemn warning. Such a warning often comes before the blow of doom falls on a guilty head. And this warning comes from the last place where he would expect it. His own humiliation and misery prepared him to hear the worst. What a contrast with the righteous man, who returned in peace and lowliness to his post of duty!

Verses 12-14. Mordecai is back at the gate; Haman, in bitter disappointment and with dark forebodings, his head covered — the sign of grief — returns to his wife and friends. When they hear what happened, they told him that his case would be hopeless. In the conflict between the Jew and the offspring of Amalek, victory is on the side of the Jew.

One man must become the liberator of the people. Here again we find in Mordecai such an interesting picture of Christ. To this end he first had to humble himself to the lowest degree, in sackcloth and ashes, and only then rise to supreme dignity... Yet all these honours conferred on him do not stop Mordecai from keeping his place as a servant: he returns to "the king's gate" (v. 12). Haman lifted himself up in his boundless pride and wanted everyone to serve him. Mordecai is the opposite, and here he presents a picture of Christ. Christ came to take the form of a servant. He did not come under constraint, as Mordecai did, but freely and in love — to put Himself under, to serve, and to lay down His life.

This is very instructive, for this has been God's way, and still is. God let the builders of the tower of Babel go on with their work until they made it a wonder. He gave Nebuchadnezzar time to finish his great city... So here Haman is borne with, until he sits on the pinnacle. Then, in the moment of proudest elevation, the judgment of God visits all these.

So it is: the pride of the wicked blinds them to their own destruction. The same pride makes them hate the righteous whom they despise... Haman had received honours beyond example. He was sure that he alone could be the man whom the king delighted to honour. So when the king invited him to name the fullest measure of that honour, his suggestions knew no limits. And so he fell into the pit he had made himself.

Where is their sympathy for the man who stands before them "mourning and with his head covered"? Only the previous evening they had said to him, "Go in cheerfully." Now they do not have a single comforting word for this downcast, wicked man... Can we expect anything else from the selfishness of natural hearts? As long as trouble does not strike them personally, what does it matter? The man who handed out favours to them can do nothing more for them.