Ancient Roots, Modern Consequences: Understanding Antisemitism in the Hebrew Bible and Today
On September 10, 2024, I was invited to participate in a discussion related to the rising antisemitism around the world. This is the paper that I delivered with some minor modifications
“A Puerto Rican, a theologian, a few Israelis, and a couple of Jewish believers in Jesus all step on to a college campus…”
Sounds like this is the beginning of a terrible dad joke. I am a father of a teenager and by way of this, I am indeed an expert of bad dad jokes. However, the reason why the Puerto Rican (me), the theologian (Dr. McDermott), the Israelis (Sharon Buenos, Noa Reuveni), and all of you are here is not a laughing matter. Antisemitism is no laughing matter. In fact, the unity in diversity that is represented in this room and on this stage communicates that antisemitism is not simply a problem for Jews to deal with. Given that antisemitism is an expression of racism, and racism by its nature weakens the fabric of any society, antisemitism is the problem of every single person who desires to live in any decent community.
The panelists for United Voices Against Antisemitism (from right to left: Maria Baer, Sharon Buenos, Gerald McDermott, Noa Reuveni, myself)
Antisemitism has time and again reared its ugly head ever since the designation “Jew” became a word. This has been particularly the case on college campuses since last year’s horrific terrorist attack upon Israelis, and the ensuing search for the Israeli hostages. There are indeed aspects to military conflicts that are extremely complex and we all, therefore, must admit our partial ignorance to all of the facts. On the other hand, there is an uncomplicated and ancient underlying theme to many of the demonstrations in this present age. The hatred of Jewish people for being Jewish people.
Contemporary manifestations of antisemitism are frequently reconfigurations of similar tactics used in the past. In this talk, we will briefly travel to the ancient past and make three observations present in the book of Esther that illuminate aspects of contemporary antisemitism. As a Christian person, my hope in doing this is to encourage other Christians to empathize with the plight of Jewish communities throughout the ages and facilitate dialogue between Christians and Jewish people concerning this unfortunately perpetual cycle of antisemitism.
Anti-Semitism in Esther
The book of Esther depicts the story of the Jewish protagonist, Esther, and her older cousin Mordechai in Persia at some point in the fifth century B.C. during the reign of king Ahasuerus. The details of how the story begins and how the story ends are relatively well known to anyone who may have heard the story in their church, synagogue or has celebrated Purim. The story begins as a domestic dispute: King Ahasuerus divorces his wife Vashti and ultimately marries Esther. Esther subsequently reveals that she is a Jewish person after a plot to annihilate Jews is approved by her husband, at the urging of his viceroy, Haman. Queen Esther reveals to her husband, King Ahasuerus, that her life is at risk because she is a Jewish person. The king has Haman hung and permits the Jewish people to defend themselves over two days. Those days are inaugurated as a feast for Jews named Purim, which is a holiday that is still celebrated in modern times.
The outline of the story is familiar but let’s adjust the lens through which we look at the book to one that focuses on observations related to antisemitism that are pertinent to the modern Jewish community. A couple of observations from the book of Esther offer prototypes that facilitate understanding and denouncing the issue of antisemitism in our day and age.
Concealing the Jewish Identity
The initial observation relates to concealing the Jewish identity.
As King Ahasuerus’s servants assemble the young women of Susa early in the story, the narrator interjects to describe a lovely Jewish woman named Hadassah—who also goes by Esther—whose family originates in Jerusalem. Esther was being raised by her cousin Mordechai (2:5-7). Just a couple of verses later, we read that Hadassah did not reveal her identity as a Jewish person (2:10). Later in the narrative, we read why. Hadassah’s cousin Mordechai told her not to tell anyone that she was a Jew (2:20).
Ultra-Orthodox Jewish men entering into the Old City of Jerusalem through the Yaffa Gate
This information concerning Esther and Mordechai being Jewish people obviously comes into play later in the narrative. It is foreshadowing. These subtle narratival comments show a situation that many non-Jewish people simply might not think to pay attention to: That is, Jewish people hiding their identity as Jews because of potential antisemitic repercussions. Let’s take a look at the reality presented in the book of Esther. The Jews are an ethnic minority group outside of their homeland, just like about 50% of the world’s Jews today. Some Jews who are ethnic minorities outside of Israel are forced to alter their behavior or conceal signs of being Jews.
Maybe this is the reason why Hadassah—a Hebrew name which means “myrtle”—is referred to as Esther, a name related to the ancient Near Eastern goddess Ishtar. And, granted that Mordechai was a historical figure, who knows what Mordechai’s Jewish name may have been? The name that we have in Esther is related to the ancient Near Eastern god Marduk.
Environmental factors that would force Jewish people to hide the fact that they are Jews—whether that be at work, a place of study, or in any residential community—for the sake of their safety are intolerable. These are areas in which antisemitic behavior is at least being tolerated, if not propagated. This was certainly the situation in Persia in the fifth century BC and unfortunately continues to be the predicament of Jews today. Let us commit to creating environments in which Jews are comfortable with who they are and are never forced to conceal the fact that they are Jews.
Collective Contempt for Jews
The second observation from Esther relates to the collective contempt for Jews that appears in this book.
At the beginning of Esther 3, the narrator introduces a new character, Haman. For reasons not explicitly stated, the king’s servants bow down to Haman. However, Mordechai does not bow down to Haman. When he is pressured about this, he reveals that he is a Jew and thereby, he does what he told his cousin not to do.
It is reasonable to suggest that Mordechai’s admission that he is a Jew is connected to his refusal to bow down to Haman, perhaps invoking the Jewish tradition depicted in the Torah of not bowing down before anyone but the Lord God of Israel. Irrespective of whether this is the case or not, it is out there—Mordechai is a Jew.
Let’s pay attention to Haman’s reaction. He does not just punish Mordechai for his personal action; he does not just plan to put Mordechai to death, as harsh a punishment as that would have been, he plans to kill the Jews—the people of Mordechai. And, we are not done yet. It is not that he just plans to kill the Jews in Susa, or in Persia for that matter—Haman plots to kill all of the Jews in all of the 127 provinces of King Ahasuerus. What an unreasonable response to all Jews is being depicted here. Haman rages at the Jews, he bears a collective contempt of all Jews, because of a bad interaction with one Jewish man.
Think just for a second about the unreasonable reactions and stereotypes that are made about Jews because of interactions with just a few of them. Comments like, “all Jews are rich,” or “Jews have a stronghold on the world’s banks/politics/medicine” are the beginning of maligning the Jews people based upon experience with a few. These types of comments/ideas propagate exaggerated interactions with the entire Jewish community. They lead to comments like, “all the Jews are like (fill in the blank with an unflattering comment).” The more frequently you say to yourself that a particular people group is like X (unflattering remark), the more you will dislike or seethe at that people group collectively, sometimes for no real reason. When this is targeted at a particular community based upon their ethnicity, this is racism. When it is targeted at Jews because they are Jews, this is antisemitism.
One of the things that struck me most during my last trip to the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem, was how Jews were depicted by propaganda artists. Jews were depicted with big noses and money bags in their hands. This is how people in positions of power can manipulate an entire people group to negatively interact with another entire people group. It is done by generalizing based upon a small sample size and by exaggerating the negative effect that this group has on society. This is especially easy if that people group is a minority group with little power or representation. When this mockery has occurred in the past, people have mercilessly exploited the Jews in their positions of societal weakness.
Yet, this exaggerated hateful technique is nothing new. This is what Haman did as well by eventually going to King Ahasuerus and asking for permission to annihilate all of the Jewish people saying, “There is a certain people scattered and separated among the peoples in all the provinces of your kingdom; their laws are different from those of every other people, and they do not keep the king’s laws, so that it is not appropriate for the king to tolerate them. If it pleases the king, let a decree be issued for their destruction…” (Esther 3:8–9 NRSV)
Let us commit to refrain from propagating lies or collective contempt upon people groups simply based upon our experience with a few. This is particularly damaging when the people group affected is a minority group that lacks the appropriate structures to challenge these collective judgments as is particularly the case with the Jewish community that lives outside of Israel.
Concern for Jewish Self Defense
The third observation from Esther relates to condemning Jewish self-defense.
As the story of Esther continues, Haman’s wicked plot to annihilate the Jews is eventually revealed to King Ahasuerus by Queen Esther. As the story would have it, King Ahasuerus gave the Jewish community in his kingdom permission to act in self-defense. This happens over two days in which the Jewish people kill tens of thousands of people in the kingdom of Ahasuerus while acting in self-defense.
Let me just pause here and say that I, as a Christian, believe that all humans are created in God’s image. I am deeply saddened when I read passages like this one. I hate war. We all should hate ware. It is a colossal affair for one human to take the life of another human.
Be that as it may, this event in Esther and modern antisemitism have caused Jewish people to respond in self-defense. That is to say, when others attack the Jewish community for being Jewish, Jewish people are compelled to protect themselves. Yet, there is a unique outcry from the international community when the independent democratic Jewish state of Israel acts in self-defense.
I must pause again and nuance this statement. Criticism of Israeli policy is not antisemitism. While living in Israel, I realized that many of my Israeli friends were more critical of Israel’s government than many of my North American Christian friends. What is particularly troubling is the lack of support for Israel’s self-defense when it is clear that some attacks upon Israel stem from harboring hatred toward Jews simply because they are Jews.
Given the historical nature of antisemitism from at least the time of Esther, Jewish people have been under a perpetual threat of extinction. Those who claim that Jewish people do not have a right to self-defense are saying that others have the right to annihilate them just as Haman desired to annihilate them. Yet, when the Jewish state defends itself, phrases like “Israeli aggression,” are employed. This type of rhetoric can sometimes function to deny Jewish people the fundamental right that we give to all others—the right to self-defense.
These three observations from Esther 1) Concealing the Jewish identity, 2) Collective contempt for Jews, and 3) Concern for Jewish self-defense have painted a picture of Jewish struggles throughout the centuries and continue to be a struggles up until this very day.
Jewish vs. Christian Interpretation
One of the most intriguing aspects of the book of Esther is the fact that neither the name nor title of God appears in the Masoretic version of the text. This silence breeds different interpretations of the contents of the book.
Keeping this in mind, we read in ch. 9 that the days when the Jewish people gained relief from their enemies were to be remembered as Purim. During the observation of Purim on an annual basis, the Jewish people continue to joyously celebrate relief from their enemies. For many Jewish people, Purim is a celebration of how strong and resilient the Jewish community has been throughout the centuries. This is certainly the case. But, I would suggest there might be something else in the book of Esther, hidden in between the lines of divine silence.
God’s name and title may be absent from the text of the book, but it certainly has not been absent in preserving the Jewish people to ultimately fulfill the promises that God gave long ago to their forefather Abraham—the most important of which is that he would be a blessing to all people through his seed. Perhaps one of the reasons for the divine silence in the book of Esther is to show the real-life circumstances of God’s preservation of the Jewish people group to fulfill the divine purpose through them to bless all nations.
Christians believe that this ultimately came to pass through the advent of Jesus as Messiah and the unity that all can experience with one another and with God through him. For those who believe that Jesus is the Messiah, nothing less than the lineage of the chosen one of Israel was at stake in every act of antisemitism prior to Jesus’s advent and contemporary antisemitism can be viewed as nothing less than an attack on the Messiah’s own people group.
Conclusion
Our interpretations of divine silence in Esther and the reason for celebrating the meaning of Purim do not need to be identical in order to recognize that the continued existence of the Jewish people—stemming from the post-exilic period to the present—has always been one that has had to be actively preserved. This is a reality that Christian people must recognize. But simply cognitive assent is not sufficient. We must do all that we can to continue to advocate for the Jewish story. To empathize with their historical and contemporary suffering. This is likewise a call to the Jewish community to permit us to enter into your story and be part of the conversation.
A Puerto Rican, a theologian, a couple of Israelis, and a few Jewish believers in Jesus walk onto a college campus…. No, this isn’t a joke. This is no laughing matter. This is not even simply a contemporary issue. Antisemitism is an age-old issue that we can address through dialogue—one conversation at a time.