Easter, Esther, & the Third Day

Life on the Far Side

In and through Jesus’ resurrection, the third day is associated with new life. Yet the association of life with a third day isn’t a New Testament innovation; it’s deeply engrained in the whole Biblical narrative.

In the very first chapter of Scripture, on the third day of Creation week, land emerges from the world’s watery depths—from a world full of raw potential and yet devoid of actual life. Grass springs up from the earth, followed by fruit trees. And these plants don’t simply represent an isolated spark of life, destined to peter out. Embodied within them is the means to produce more life—seed which will bring forth plants after their kind (Gen. 1.11).

Similar events recur throughout the Biblical narrative.

• A death sentence hangs over the future of Abraham’s seed, yet on a third day Abraham lifts up his eyes and sees what will soon become the site of Isaac’s resurrection (Gen. 22.4, 22.5, Heb. 11.17–19).

• A death sentence hangs over the head of Pharaoh’s cupbearer, yet on a third day Pharaoh lifts up his head.

• Hezekiah is due to die, yet he heads up to the Temple on a third day and is healed (2 Kgs. 20.5).

• The Jewish people are destined for destruction, yet on a third day Esther enters the king’s presence and delivers her kinsmen (Est. 5.1) (cp. Hos. 6.1–2).

• And Jonah receives his life back from the dead on a third day.

All of these incidents find their foundation and fulness in Jesus’ death and resurrection. On the eve of the Passover (14th Nisan), Jesus dies. His body is planted in the earth (cp. John 12.24). And then, on the third day—the day of the feast of Firstfruits (16th Nisan)—, Jesus is raised to new life (John 20). Jesus’ resurrection thus marks the start of a new harvest. What Jesus’ body undergoes, his corporate body (the Church) will likewise undergo, first spiritually and ultimately physically (1 Cor. 15).

All of these notions can of course be developed in far more detail. In the present post, however, I want to focus on the work of an often overlooked forerunner of the Messiah—Esther.

Esther the Deliverer

Esther is a woman who acts with uncommon courage. When the Jews’ death warrant is signed, her identity is unknown. Rather than remain hidden, however, Esther chooses to associate herself with God’s people, put herself in harm’s way, and seek the good of Israel. And Esther doesn’t do these things at just any time of year; she does them at the time of the Passover.¹

When Esther becomes aware of her people’s plight, it’s the day before the Passover (13th Nisan) (Est. 3.12ff.). In response, Esther initiates a three-day fast (night and day: 4.16), and, on its third day (16th Nisan), she enters the king’s presence.

Per the pattern of Jesus’ death and resurrection, then, life is granted to the Jewish people both on a third day and on a day of firstfruits.

Esther’s chronology is also important for another reason. The tide may start to turn in Esther’s story when Esther enters the king’s presence on 16th Nisan, but it doesn’t fully turn until 17th Nisan when the king remembers Mordecai’s good deeds, which happens to be the day when YHWH remembered Noah’s good deeds long ago and the floodwaters began to subside. Below, I’ll explain why I think so. First, however, since the idea of a connection between Esther and Noah’s stories might sound an unlikely one, let’s consider some ways in which they resemble one another.

For a start, both stories involve a hero who’s chosen out to preserve his/her people and who ‘finds grace’ in the eyes of his/her superiors (Gen. 6.8, Est. 5.8, etc.). And, curiously, both heroes triumph with the assistance of a wooden structure which measures 50 cubits in width/height.

Also relevant to consider is the way in which both stories are purgative in nature.

• Just as the flood is sent in order to rid the earth of man’s ‘evil’ (רַע) ‘intentions’ (מַחְשְׁבוֹת), so war is waged against Haman in order to purge the Persian empire of his ‘evil intention’ (מַחֲשַׁבְתּוֹ הָרָעָה) (Gen. 6.5, Est. 9.25).

• In both stories, fire is fought with fire: just as Haman’s plan to destroy (אב׳׳ד) the Jews is thwarted by his destruction (אב׳׳ד) (Est. 3.13, 8.11), so the earth is purged of its corruption (שח׳׳ת) by its destruction (שח׳׳ת) (Gen. 6.11–13).

• And, at the end of both stories, a fear/dread of God’s representative descends on a previously hostile world in order to keep its threats at bay (Est. 9.2, Gen. 9.2).

Moreover, at the climax of Esther’s story, the Jews are said to obtain ‘rest’ (Hebrew נוֹחַ, pronounced ‘noah’!) from their enemies—a word which occurs in the form נוֹחַ/נֹחַ only in the story of Esther and in the name Noah.

Particularly important for us to note as far as calendars are concerned is the shape of both stories. As many students of Scripture have noted, the flood narrative has a distinctly chiastic shape.

And its shape isn’t a merely literary detail. The pivotal moment in the flood narrative comes when YHWH remembers Noah, at which point the earth’s floodwaters begin to subside, and so the narrative’s chiasm depicts the earth’s water-level as it rises and falls.

Esther’s story has a similarly chiastic shape, and it also has a similar purpose. Esther’s chiasm reaches its climax in 6.1 when the king remembers Mordecai’s good deeds.

Which is significant. Prior to the events of 6.1, Haman is in full control: armed with the king’s signet ring, he can do as he pleases (or so he thinks). Indeed, he’s due to be led around the city on horseback, while Mordecai is to be hung; it’s every anti-Semite’s dream.

Yet, on the far side of 6.1, Haman’s downfall begins, which is perfectly encapsulated by the words of Haman’s wife and wise men:

‘If Mordecai, the man before whom you’ve begun to fall, is of the Jewish people, then you will not overcome him, but will fall beyond recovery (נָפוֹל תִּפּוֹל) before him’ (6.13).

And fall Haman does. In an instant, his whole world turns upside down (or more accurately the right way up). Mordecai is exalted; Haman is made to parade him through the city; later, Haman falls at Esther’s feet (7.8); and, finally, Haman is hung on the very gallows he made for Mordecai.²

Thereafter, Haman’s signet-backed decree is reversed by Mordecai’s signet-backed decree, and the destruction he intended to unleash on Mordecai’s seed is instead unleashed on his seed. Just as the floodwaters rise and fall in Noah’s story, so Haman rises and falls in Esther’s.

The connection between the two stories’ climaxes is underscored by lexical means: after the king remembers Mordecai’s deeds and disposes of Esther’s enemy, his anger is said to subside (שכ׳׳ך) and he passes (עב׳׳ר) his signet ring to Mordecai, and, similarly, when YHWH remembers Noah, he causes a wind to pass over (עב׳׳ר) the earth and the floodwaters begin to subside (שכ׳׳ך)—a verb found only in Noah and Esther’s stories with the sense ‘subside’.

Yet it’s not only the shape of Esther and Noah’s stories we need to pay attention to; it’s the date of their pivotal moments. The king remembers Mordecai on the 17th Nisan. And, since the flood narrative’s chronology is predicated on an autumn-to-autumn year, its 7th month would have been the month of Nisan.³ Consequently, the 17th day of the flood-year’s 7th month would have been the 17th of Nisan and by extension the third day of what would later become the feast of unleavened bread (Gen. 8.4ff.). And so, on the same day the king remembered Mordecai, YHWH long ago remembered Noah while new life once again began to rise up on a third day.

Final Thoughts

God does not act in response to the actions of ‘free radicals’. He has a plan, which he drew up before the foundation of the world. At times he brings people low, and at times he raises them up. He did so in Jesus’ case; he does so in our case; and he brings all things to pass in his good time and in accord with his divinely ordained pattern. ‘Those who wait for YHWH shall thus renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles’ (Isa. 40.31).

1. Curiously, a number of Rabbinic texts depict Esther as the sufferer of Psalm 22. As she enters the throne-room to deliver her people, she is depicted as forsaken by God and surrounded by hostile beasts (see in particular Megillah 15b).

2. The text of 6.4 subtly alludes to the reversal which is about to come. As Haman enters the king’s presence to request Mordecai’s execution, the narrator refers to ‘the gallows which he (Haman) has erected for him’ (הָעֵץ אֲשֶׁר־הֵכִין לוֹ). Yet how exactly are we to read the letters לוֹ (‘for him’)? As a reference to Mordecai? That would no doubt reflect Haman’s intention. But the letters לוֹ can equally well be read as an ethical dative—that is to say, the phrase can legitimately be taken to refer to ‘the gallows which Haman has made himself’ (!). The ambiguity is presumably deliberate.

3. That the flood’s chronology is predicated on an autumn-to-autumn year isn’t an unusual claim. It’s affirmed by at least Josephus (Antiquities I §3.3) and Rabbi Eliezer (Rosh Hashanah 11b–12a), and makes good sense. Autumn-to-autumn years were the norm in the ancient Near East. The Passover defined a genuinely new calendar year.