For such a time as this
What are you reading these days? My people are readers, so I often ask, and am asked, this question. Lately, it feels less like a curious inquiry and more like a survival tactic. What are you reading? means What are you finding helpful in such a volatile and violent time?
Some friends are immersed in fantasy or romance, seeking an escape from hard realities. Others are diving into socio-political analysis with books like On Tyranny by Timothy Snyder and Strongmen by Ruth Ben-Ghiat.
Still others are reading Scripture and theology, studying Jesus’ nonviolent resistance, or asking big questions of God. Chapter 8 of 1 Samuel is getting some good publicity. When the people ask God for a king, a strong man who can “go out before us and fight our battles,” God warns them against giving one man this kind of power, saying a king will pillage their land, destroy their economy and seize the best for his own gain.
The book of Esther, about the reversal of power, has been on my mind. Esther, a Jewish orphan, becomes the king’s favored queen. When the king’s henchman, Haman, threatens the Jews, Esther’s adopted father, Mordecai, calls upon Esther to be courageous, to risk her own safety by speaking to the king on behalf of her vulnerable people. In an often-quoted passage, Mordecai says, “Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this” (Esther 4:14).
There’s a fair critique of Presbyterian readers: we read, but we don’t act. We read as though reading is enough. Clearly, in such a time as this, we cannot just read. As Edmund Burke said, we don’t want to be the “good men who do nothing” while evil triumphs. But if you’re like me, you’re wondering what action is yours to take. Is it enough to call my representatives when vulnerable populations are targeted and terrorized? To post my outrage on social media when masked men apprehend college students and funds are withheld from research institutions? To stay on top of the news, verify sources and check facts, despite the exhaustion this brings? Current world politics are confusing and overwhelming, perhaps by design to leave us despairing, pulling books off our shelves in search of guidance, hoping an online comment is enough.
It’s time for thoughtful, discerning action
But there’s a difference between reaction and thoughtful, discerning action. Esther did not storm the king’s chambers in a to-hell-with-it rage. She carefully crafted a plan to win over the king and expose the injustice done in his name. And she publicly revealed her own Jewishness, at significant personal risk, to invoke the king’s empathy.
Reading Esther’s story makes me consider my position, and yours. Why are we here now, in such a time as this? Am I the editor of the Presbyterian Outlook, at this time, for a purpose? Are you the pastor of your church, the elder on your session, the leader in your community or the loudest friend among your peers, for a purpose? Might we, like Esther, use our power and position to thoughtfully expose injustice and protect the vulnerable?
My faith leads me to believe we are not here by accident. A loving God crafted and called us to love others, even at great risk.
Here’s the good news. We are not alone. Like Esther, we have people urging us on, people who will stand with us as we speak hard truths and take brave steps.
This is not a time for hiding and hopeless despair. This is a time to remember who we are and whose we are. If you read something that stirs your heart or fuels your courage, let it not stay on the page. Let those words kindle something in you — a prayer, a protest, a partnership, a plan. Listen for God’s call, trust it, and act with the wisdom and boldness that love demands.
Whatever strength or platform we’ve been given – whether it feels mighty or modest – it is ours to steward. Like Esther, we may not have chosen this time, but this time has chosen us.
