Why wouldnt mordecai bow to haman

Many believe Hitler was a relative, too. As the Bible mentions, Haman was an Amalekite from Edom. King Herod was also an Edomite who wanted to wipe out the Christ. However, there is a reason that Edom and Amalek are highlighted.

From the foreshadowing in Deuteronomy, it is prophesied that the last thing that the King would do before he takes the throne and before his reign is that he would wipe out Amalek. During the first coming of Jesus, there was a false ruler on the throne of Israel, That ruler, King Herod, usurped the throne and was placed there despite the fact that the line of David was supposed to rule on the throne. Hence, that was one of the reasons Herod feared the Messiah. Jesus Christ was the rightful heir to the throne and the promised one from the line of David.

If we paralleled the second coming with the first coming of Christ, it is likely that the Antichrist will also be a descendant of Edom. One way of looking at it is that Mordecai was revealing a type and shadow of the faithful followers of God. They are those who would not bow down to the antichrists and Antichrist of this world.

They loved not their lives even to death. Mordecai gives us an example of the faithful followers who honor the covenant promises through which the Messiah would come. The covenant established through Abraham testified to God's faithfulness.

The true people who trusted in God would only show honor to those to whom honor was due. His tone is poignant, apologetic almost, for the dire straits he has brought upon his people. In both the Targum Sheni and the Septuagint, bowing to a man is, in and of itself, a form of idolatry, and therefore presents a challenge to monotheism, which adjures the Jew to pay obeisance to God alone.

In the MT of the Esther scroll, the genealogical associations point to an ethnic vendetta that will be played out between these two characters. The Greek version, however, never calls Haman an Agagite, so the allusion to this ethnic divide would have been lost on the Greek readership. The Targum Sheni ca. Which words? The question of Jewish survival and integrity in the Diaspora lies at the crux of the drama of the Esther story in all its forms.

The Greek text, by contrast, speaks to a Jewish audience under Roman rule in the Second Temple Period circa 1 st century BCE , where ethnic identity plays a minimal role relative to religious values. He carries the banner defending the singularity of the Jews in the face of assimilation and the threat of arbitrary, violent authoritarian rule.

Please support us. Mordecai is, notably, from the tribe of Benjamin cf. Rashi, on the other hand, maintains that Haman made himself into a deity cf. Megillah 19a, b. Sanhedrin 61b, and Esther Rabbah For a summary of the alternative versions of the Esther story, see Dr. In Est. The same causal link between Benjamin, who was not yet born when Jacob and sons all bowed down to Esau see Gen. She holds a Ph. Let me show you how the Megillah begins to tip its hand.

A Biblical Parallel to Mordechai's Story? Introducing Potiphar Let's read those words that describes Mordechai's silence one more time:.

And it happened, when they asked him [why he defied the king's decree] day after day, but Mordechai did not listen to them. Now read those words over a couple of times. And as you do, ask yourself: Do the words perhaps sound just a little bit familiar to you? Just a teeny weeny bit familiar? Yes, folks, turns out that this phraseology — it actually appears somewhere else, earlier in the Bible.

It appears only one other time in all of Tanach. So ask yourself: Where else, does someone badger someone else, over and over, day after day — and the person being badgered simply will not listen? And by the way, is not just the general situation that's similar. It's the exact Hebrew phraseology too. Where is the only other time in Tanach that we have the combination of these precise terms: "vayehi … yom yom… velo shama"?

And it happened, day after day, and they didn't hear. Well, did you guess it? The phrase appears… in the Joseph story. Joseph, he is sold by his brothers and ends up in Egypt, working as a servant in the house of a nobleman by the name of Potiphar.

And there, he's got a pretty good deal going: He earns his master's trust, and eventually he's got free reign to administer the household as he sees fit. Everything is working out just peachy keen for Joseph — until one day, he is faced with the greatest trial yet in his young life.

One day, when all the other men of the household have left the grounds, he is approached by his master's wife, we'll call her Mrs. Potiphar, and she attempts to seduce him. He resists her advances, but she persists. And she badgers him day after day. You see where I'm going here? And there it is… it's the exact same phraseology.

The courtiers, they spoke to Mordecai day after day and he didn't listen to them, just as Mrs. Potiphar once spoke to Joseph day after day, and he didn't listen to her. And you kinda have to wonder, why is the megillah doing this? Why is it intentionally quoting, lifting that phrase right out of the Potiphar story and using it again in its own story? Centuries ago, someone else remarked on the parallel between these two stories — and that someone else was the Midrash.

After noting the textual parallels that we just saw, the Sages said this, phrased in their inimitable, pithy style:. The rabbis noticed something interesting here here. The main protagonists in the two stories — they are related to each other.

Both were children of the matriarch, Rachel. Joseph, of course, he was Rachel's son — and Mordechai, as the Megillah tells us, he was a member of the tribe of Benjamin, who was Rachel's other son.

So the Sages, they say: These two children of Rachel, Joseph and, many centuries later, Mordechai — they faced identical challenges: Nissan shaveh.

Their trial, as it were, was the same. And their reward was the same. You know, their reward being the same, I get that. Both Mordechai and Joseph before him are given the signet ring of the most powerful sovereign of their times.

But their trial was the same? What exactly was that supposed to mean? I mean, it's not like Mordechai is being seduced or anything, the way that Joseph was But, somehow, Mordechai's choice as to whether to bow to Haman, the Sages are saying — it actually was just a latter day version of Joseph's choice as to whether to be intimate with the wife of Potiphar It was, on some deep level, the political equivalent of taking his master's wife for himself.

It was something you could be seduced to do. Having your master's wife; that's not for you, that's something that should be reserved for the master. Having all the servants of the king bow to you — that's not something for you, it's something to be reserved for the king himself.

Mordechai, the Sages seem to be saying — he too, just like Joseph, was expressing a deep loyalty to his own master, the king, by resisting the demands of the courtiers, and by extension, Haman, that he bow to him. But wait a second, that's crazy, you say. Because, didn't the king himself decree that all have to bow to Haman? I mean, why would it be wrong — a betrayal, as it were — to simply follow that decree? On the contrary — wouldn't you say that Mordechai is actually defying the king by not listening to his decree?

How could those two things co-exist? How could it be so that there was a royal decree that all should bow to Haman, and on the other hand, Mordechai would be exhibiting loyalty to the king by defying that decree? Well, let's go back to the actual text, and look at it just a little bit more closely. We may be able to find in the text some answers to our question:.

Digging Deeper Let's start by asking this: How did that whole bowing decree ever get legislated in the first place? After these things — presumably, after the last events of the Megillah, when Mordechai foiled the assassination plot launched against the king — after that, the king elevates Haman….

Suddenly, at that point, all the king's servants in the palace courtyards — they would all start bowing to Haman,.

But just stop right there for a second, because there's a bit of a problem in that last verse. It actually has to do with a misplaced pronoun. Read the sentence again, and ask yourself: When the king commanded that all the servants of the king should bow to Haman, exactly who did the king command? You'd imagine he commanded the 'servants of the king,' right? I mean, that would be logical.

But that's not actually what the verse says. The text of the Megillah, translated literally, reads: ki chen tzivah lo hamelech — for so the king commanded 'him'. It doesn't seem like it can be the servants of the king. They're a bunch of people, and lo is a singular pronoun, it indicates the king was talking to only one.

Now, it could be that the text just isn't being precise — some commentators, like Ibn Ezra, suggest that — but if the text is being precise, what's it really implying with that singular pronoun?

The only particular person the king could have commanded about this would have been Haman himself. So you'd have to read the verse this way: All the king's servants were bowing to Haman… because so the king commanded… [Haman]. But now the obvious question is: Why was the decree issued to him? It doesn't oblige Haman, it obliges everybody else! Moreover, there's a second problem here: How did the courtiers know about this decree?

If the king really was talking just to Haman, that means Haman himself was their only source of information. There's no way to independently verify what he's telling them. And it makes you wonder: Were those courtiers of the king really getting the whole story from Haman? You know, it reminds me of the old parable of the Chassidic rebbe who dies, and a dispute breaks out between his two sons as to which of them will be the new rebbe.

It is settled. Last night, Father came to me in a dream and said that I'm to be the new rebbe. He should have come to my dream and told it to me! Well, maybe Haman's that brother who had the dream.

In other words: Perhaps the Megillah is hinting that Haman is taking some liberties here; he's going beyond the king's actual intent in some way. How so? Well, evidently the king and Haman must have had some sort of conversation in which the subject of bowing came up. The Megillah, it doesn't tell us exactly what happened between Haman and the King in that conversation, but we can perhaps imagine how that discussion might have gone:.

Sire, I really appreciate the promotion. Together, you and I shall bring order to the Persian Empire. Just one tiny little thing that may have been overlooked in all of the hullaballoo surrounding my advancement. You know, perhaps it would be a good idea for the senior staff around here to show some deference to me when I roam through the palace courtyards.

Look sire, we both know this isn't for me. I am just your humble servant, sitting at the dust of your feet. But where I go, there goes the might of Persia. By bowing to me whenever they see me, the other servants will be constantly expressing their allegiance to the crown. Might this not be in the interests of the Empire?

In your interests, o' King? Now, we don't know exactly what transpired, of course. But Haman may have made some argument like that to the king, and the king might have bought it. And, by the way, on some level, Haman might have bought it himself.

Haman might well have thought himself a loyal servant, just doing what's best for the good of Persia. But in reality, his drive for power is getting the best of him. He is engineering a power grab. He wants to be seen as the king. And this seems like a good time to remember the Midrash about the idol around Haman's neck. It may well be that this is what the Sages were talking about, when they mentioned that idol. Because let's talk about the origins of idolatry, for a minute.

Idolatry, Rambam tells us, got its beginning when people began to make an error — an understandable, but catastrophic, mistake. God, they thought, was very abstract, it's hard to show honor and deference to such an abstract being. So how could you best show honor to God? People began to think: By honoring His servants. The sun, it was a very powerful force created by God.

If I bowed to the sun, wouldn't that be a good way to honor the sun's creator? From there, idolatry degenerated, and eventually people began to worship the sun as the ultimate power and eventually forgot entirely about God — but idolatry started with the mistaken notion that you could bow to the servant and thereby honor the master. Well, that's Haman's essential argument here: Bowing to him, the great second-in-charge to the king, is great for the crown.

In a deep way, what Haman is doing is nothing but the political equivalent of idolatry: He is the second-in-charge who is seeking to be treated like the king. Now, it may seem like a stretch to imagine Haman making a power grab like that. But it wouldn't be entirely out of character for him to do such a thing, if you really think about it. Because if you fast forward a few chapters in the Megillah, you'll find Haman trying to engineer a power grab in a way that sounds suspiciously similar to this.

And he gets like, starry eyed, and he goes on to give this almost manic description of what should be done to this man. He says:. Haman's desires completely overtake him. His drive for power, to be seen as the king, becomes completely transparent. Everything is king, king, king. Ask yourself, you know, exactly what does Haman want here?

He thinks this guy being led through the streets is going to be him. And you know, from a third story balcony, out there in the street, what does someone look like when they're being paraded through the streets riding the king's horse, wearing the king's robes?

They look like the king. So my argument is that on some level, Haman has always been after this. Yes, it's more overt in that sleepless night scene out there in Chapter 6, but back in Chapter 3, I'm arguing, Haman has been after this, too. You know, because, how did the whole bowing thing come about, back in Chapter 3? Evidently, Haman had wheedled a concession out of Achashverosh in private conversation. It must have been a little awkward when Haman brought up the idea that everyone should bow to me, sire.

Splendid idea! But that's it. That's it, that's all the king was in this for. A private conversation does not a decree make. Remember: the king, tellingly, never legislated this decree to his court.

And there's a reason for that. What the king said was never intended to become law. Job For wrath killeth the foolish man, and envy slayeth the silly one. Context Crossref Comm Hebrew. Verse Click for Chapter. New International Version When Haman saw that Mordecai would not kneel down or pay him honor, he was enraged. New Living Translation When Haman saw that Mordecai would not bow down or show him respect, he was filled with rage. English Standard Version And when Haman saw that Mordecai did not bow down or pay homage to him, Haman was filled with fury.

Berean Study Bible When Haman saw that Mordecai would not bow down or pay him homage, he was filled with rage. Amplified Bible When Haman saw that Mordecai neither bowed down nor paid homage to him, he was furious.