Mordecai, the cousin, guardian, and surrogate father of Esther, has always been one of my Bible heroes. Mordecai strikes me as a man of courage and tough faith, as well as a shrewd individual who knew how to read a situation and respond to it wisely.

If you recall the story of Esther, it was Mordecai who engineered her entrance into the court of the Persian king Ahasuerus (known to secular history as Xerxes) and her ultimate elevation as Ahasuerus’ queen. You will also remember that Mordecai made a mortal enemy in the person of Haman, one of the Persian princes who saw his position as a favorite son threatened by the presence of the Jews among his people — and by Mordecai in particular:

“After these things King Ahasuerus promoted Haman, the son of Hammedatha the Agagite, and advanced him and set his seat above all the princes who were with him. And all the king’s servants who were within the king’s gate bowed and paid homage to Haman, for so the king had commanded concerning him. But Mordecai would not bow or pay homage” (Esther 3:1-2).

It’s that last sentence I’d like to call to your attention. We might wonder why Mordecai did as he did. After all, Haman was in a place of authority — he was a prince, promoted by the king. The king had decreed that Haman should be shown honor. What would have been wrong in Mordecai bowing to this prince? Are we not told in Scripture to give honor to whom honor is due (Romans 13:7)?

To answer this question, we have to consider the original context. What Haman was demanding of the people here was not merely the justified honor to be paid to a civil authority figure. What he sought, from the perspective of Persian culture, was to be worshiped as deity — in other words, to be honored as a god. This Mordecai refused to do.

Mordecai’s action was not unlike that of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego, the three friends of Daniel who refused to bow to the image of himself that Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon erected. When the king threatened the three men with public immolation in a furnace if they did not comply with his order, the trio replied, “O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter. If that is the case, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us from your hand, O king. But if not, let it be known to you, O king, that we do not serve your gods, nor will we worship the gold image which you have set up” (Daniel 3:16-18).

We live in an age of compromise, of tolerance, of “going along to get along.” Most people today, confronted with the dilemma Mordecai faced, would simply say, “What would it matter just this once? I know Haman isn’t really a god, but if he wants to think so, and obeying his order will keep me in his good graces, what difference would it make?”

Mordecai refused. He would not compromise his faith even for a man with the authority to build a gallows and have him hung from it. As Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego told Nebuchadnezzar, “If you’re going to throw us in the furnace for not bowing to your idol, go ahead, because we’re not bowing,” Mordecai’s action told Haman, “Hang me if you will, but I’ll not give you what belongs to my God.”

How often are we guilty of bowing to the “gods” of this world? When we accept the world’s values without challenge, when we submit to common principles at the expense of holiness, when we set temporal things higher in our priorities than the things of Christ, are we not doing exactly what Mordecai refused to do?