all

There’s something at the end of the book of Esther that I never paid much attention to before. Maybe that’s because God has been sensitizing me toward social justice issues lately.

But look at the last verse of Esther, Chapter 10:3: “Mordecai the Jew was second in rank to King Xerxes, preeminent among the Jews, and held in high esteem by his many fellow Jews, because he worked for the good of his people and spoke up for the welfare of all the Jews.”

After his rise from humble gatekeeper to the king’s right hand, Mordecai could have been forgiven for thinking he’d outgrown his roots. He’d rescued the king and survived Haman’s hatred on his way to the top, and his golden years looked like they’d also be his glory days.

But this verse tells us that Mordecai used his new power and influence not for himself, but for his people. What jumped out at me this morning was that little three-letter word all. Mordecai didn’t leave anyone out. Sure for a city boy like Mordecai, there must have been some country bumpkin Jews that seemed a little backward. Probably after putting up with their snobbery for so long, he was a little sick of Pharisees. As a devout Jew he probably was not impressed by all those indifferent obeyers, the ones who thought life was easier if they acted more like their pagan neighbors.

But Mordecai spoke for all the Jews. All of them, even the ones he didn’t like or didn’t agree with. Of course, these days that’s two ways of saying the same thing – if we don’t agree with someone we don’t like them. Being right, and being acknowledged as right, is more important in our current culture than almost anything else.

That’s why I think the lesson of “all” is important. This morning I’m reminded that true followers of God are as inclusive as God is.