A Frat Party, the KKK, and the Empty Tomb - A sermon on the first chapter of Esther

          The year was 1946 and the Ku Klux Klan, that oppressive and shadowy organization of terror, hatred, and ignorance, was as deadly as it ever was.  Its influence spanned from coast to coast and brought millions into its ranks to infect the nation with fear and mistrust and violence.  African Americans, homosexuals, Catholics, anyone who did not fit the image of the “ideal American” walked the streets and lived in their very homes in fear.  An alarming number of politicians and law enforcement officials, who otherwise would have stood up to the Klan, instead remained silent due to fear of waking up with a burning cross in their front yard.  A man by the name of Stetson Kennedy, however, did not remain silent.

            Instead of running away from them in fear, he decided to learn more about this mysterious, hate-filled organization and, therefore, donned that dreaded white hood and became one of them.  He learned their secrets.  He memorized their passwords and shadowy rituals.  He immersed himself in their culture in hopes to one day expose their secrets and rid them of the oppressive power that kept this nation in fear.  After months of observation and research, he took the insider information he had and presented it to the local law enforcement agents.  However, they were too scared of the KKK influence to do anything with it.  So Stetson Kennedy had to look elsewhere. 

            It just so happened that another influential power was sweeping the nation at this time in the 1940’s, a hero by the name of Superman.  Every week, countless numbers of children laid in front of their families’ radios to hear of this week’s adventure with that wonderful hero who was faster than a speeding bullet and more powerful than a locomotive.  There was, however, a problem:  the war was over, Superman had already defeated the Nazis, and was in need of a new villain to bring to justice.  Stetson Kennedy approached the writers of the sensational radio broadcast with the perfect offer.

            For the next several months, Superman had a new villain to bring to justice:  the Ku Klux Klan.  Each week, millions of children around the country listened with wonder and fascination as Superman defeated the Klan as the program exposed the secrets and rituals that Stetson Kennedy had risked his life to obtain.

            Soon after, people began showing up at Klan rallies for the sole purpose of mocking them.  Klan members came home from their meetings to find their children laughing at them, having just heard of Superman’s victory.  The membership of the Klan, not surprisingly, plummeted as the nation began to laugh at the absurdity of their rituals, their culture, their ignorance.

            There is a power to be found when absurdity is revealed for what it is.

            But I don’t believe that Stetson Kennedy was the first person to figure this out, for the Jews living in exile, the very community from which the Book of Esther comes to us, knew this well for they paint King Ahasuerus as very absurd.

            King Ahasuerus was the king of 127 provinces from India to Ethiopia.  One would think that he would have a lot to do with all that land and people to govern.  However, apparently he believes that the best use of his time is not managing his enormous provinces but rather by throwing a party.  And this is no sophisticated wine tasting event.  This is a drunken party that lasts, according to the text, 187 days.  Drinking was by the flagons, without restraint for the king gave orders for everyone to do as they desired.  The Book of Esther paints this King, Ahasuerus, as larger-than-life, absurd, over-the-top, and irresponsible.  A man interested, not in the upkeep of his kingdom and the people therein, but only in the arrogant display of his wealth and majesty so that others might be reminded that it is not theirs.

            And after 187 days of drinking and debauchery, there is only one thing left that he has not displayed for others to covet; his beautiful wife, Queen Vashti.  Therefore, in his drunken state, he orders his wife to parade herself before the hungry eyes of his fraternity party while wearing the royal crown and, as others including myself believe the text suggests, wearing (quite literally) nothing but the royal crown. 

            But then something goes terribly wrong (or right, depending on who you ask):  this woman, Queen Vashti, says no.  And she doesn’t say no to just anyone; she says no to the King.  And she doesn’t say no just anywhere; she says no to the king in front of everyone.  And as we learned from Stetson Kennedy and the Klan, when someone brings to light the absurdity, things tend to fall apart.  And fall apart, they did.

            King Ahaseurus doesn’t know exactly what to do:  “No one’s ever said no to me before.”  I’m sure the 187 days of drinking was not helping his judgment so he brings in his advisors and sages to instruct him.  They give him a stark warning.  They tell him that if he doesn’t nip this in the bud, then Queen Vashti’s action will inspire other women to stand up to their husbands and refuse to be submissive before them.  To use the words of the text, “there will be no end to the contempt and wrath.”  For Vashti did not just say no to an inappropriate command.  She did not simply refuse to become a sexual object for all to behold as one does a piece of meat.  No, Vashti’s actions bring to light the absurdity of this King Ahasuerus.  Her simple and daring “no” caused such a stir because the king’s officials knew that, if word of this got out, if people heard this on the weekly news on the radio before the Adventures of Superman, that people might show up and begin mocking them for the absurdity that, until recently, had been so cleverly disguised.

            So Vashti is banished.  We never hear from her again.  Most people ignore this story and dismiss it as a simple “prelude” to the rest of the story of Esther.  In fact, many people don’t know what to do with the book of Esther because it is an absurd book with absurd parties with an absurd king and an absurd political structure.  What makes the book of Esther even more absurd is that it is the only book in the bible that does not overtly mention God even once.  Perhaps that’s why Martin Luther himself dismissed the book as having “too many heathen unnaturalities.”  And as much as I appreciate Martin Luther and his undeniable influence in the creation of Protestantism, I cannot help but feel as though his uneasiness with the absurdity of the Book of Esther is, in effect, attempting to silence Vashti just as King Ahasuerus had hoped.  But Vashti will not be silenced.  As the next verse after today’s passage states:  “When the anger of King Ahasuerus had abated, he remembered Vashti and what she had done and what had been decreed against her.” 

For this story reminds us that there is a power to be found when absurdity is revealed for what it is. 

            And such, as we are reminded on this second Sunday of Easter, is the power of the resurrection.  For just as Vashti brought to light the absurdity of the unjust King Ahasuerus, so too does the Risen Christ bring to light the absurdity of Rome.  But unlike Queen Vashti with her refusal or Stetson Kennedy with Superman, the cross laughs at the absurdity of Rome by using an absurdity of its own.  The resurrection itself is an absurd idea, as Benjamin Franklin reminds us, there are two things in the world of absolute inevitability:  death and taxes, as we remember on this 15^th day of April.  What dies is supposed to remain dead.  This much has always been true.  Such is the reason, I suppose, that Doubting Thomas (as he is fondly remembered) refused to believe that Christ was risen. 

I don’t suppose we should be too hard on Thomas for it was well known by all that death, whether obvious death or death disguised as a Klansman or a drunken, incompetent King, has always seemed to have the final word.

But the absurdity of the resurrection assures us that the final word will never be uttered by an incompetent king, or an hate-filled Klansman, or a political regime of any kind.  Even death itself, that enemy that even Rome could never defeat, will not have the final word.  For the Risen Christ says “no” to death and “yes” to life eternal.  The Risen Christ allows Queen Vashti to say “no” to those who would strip her of her humanity, her beauty and “yes” to her own identification as a woman of conviction and strength.  The Risen Christ empowers Stetson Kennedy to say “no” to the absurdity of the Ku Klux Klan and “yes” to truth, justice, and equality.  The Risen Christ gives John Donne the confidence to proclaim these beautiful words: 

“Death be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so.

For, those, who thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,

Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,

And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

            So, friends, we have before us a tale of two kings.  A tale of two absurd kings.  One who rules through the absurdity of oppression, dominance, injustice, and coercion and another who rules through invitation, inclusiveness, grace, and abundance.  We have one king who exists in secrecy and thrives on the control of information and power.  We have another king who exists for all and thrives on the community of those he died and rose for.  On the one hand we have a king whose victory is seen as a palace full of material wealth, drunken houseguests, and sexual domination.

On the other hand, we have a king whose victory is evidenced only by an empty tomb.

            So, Sisters and Brothers in the Risen Christ, perhaps on this second Sunday in Easter, if we listen closely enough, we can still hear the resounding “no!” of Queen Vashti.  And perhaps we just might join her in saying “no!” to the absurdity of sin.  “No!” to the absurdity of injustice, racism, to sexual discrimination.  “No!” to the absurdity of drunken kings and hooded Klansmen.

            You and I will follow Vashti’s courage and say “no!” to these lies and “yes!” to the resurrected Christ, that absurd king who defeated death itself, that we might live and learn and love.  So be it!  Amen!