Genesis 35: getting the details right

Reading through Genesis 35, two details struck me: the naming of the place, Bethel, and Jacob's renaming as Israel. Both of these namings were ones I was familiar with; the surprise for me in the text is that both are a repeat.

Jacob had named the place Bethel after his dream there when fleeting Esau. He even specifically moved to that place (El bethel) because that was where he'd met God. Why then is the explanation later in chapter 35 given about the place being given the name Bethel?

Jacob was named Israel after wrestling with God. Why is he then given the name a second time?

I don't know the answers to the questions, and I'm not sure if there are any obvious answers. Especially since the text doesn't provide contradictory information, but is simply repeating itself, the need for answers seems less. However, it does make me wonder about the way stories are told.

And out came this calf!

Exodus 32 tells the story of the golden calf.

When Moses takes so long to come down from Mt Sinai (where he'd gone to get the law and meet with God), the people come to Aaron, asking that he make gods for them since they don't know what has become of this Moses. Aaron requests their gold, takes it, forms a mold and casts an image of a calf, which the people declare to be their (new) gods. Aaron then builds an altar before it and proclaims the next day to be a festival to the LORD. Moses returns to their revel, warned of what was happening by the LORD's anger against the people. (For those interested in deep theological discussions: Before Moses returns, the Moses implores the LORD not to destroy the people of Israel, and the text itself raises the difficult but fascinating question of whether and how the LORD can change his mind).

Moses was livid when he saw the calf and the dancing. The following is verses 21-24 as they appear in the NRSV: Moses said to Aaron, ‘What did this people do to you that you have brought so great a sin upon them?’ And Aaron said, ‘Do not let the anger of my lord burn hot; you know the people, that they are bent on evil. They said to me, “Make us gods, who shall go before us; as for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.” So I said to them, “Whoever has gold, take it off”; so they gave it to me, and I threw it into the fire, and out came this calf!’

Reading the text this time, it is the words "out came this calf" that struck me. They sound ridiculous - like Aaron is trying to claim that it was not his fault (does this remind anyone of Genesis 3?). The text certainly tells a different story, noting in the last verse of the chapter that "the Lord sent a plague on the people, because they made the calf—the one that Aaron made."


At the same time, the very ridiculous-ness of it made me want to see if perhaps it was not quite as obvious as I had first thought. Aaron does not appear to know how to deal with the people (elsewhere in the text it indictes that the people were running wild under Aaron's (lack of) leadership). When Moses is gone so long, and the people approach him, he is faced with a potential disaster/mutiny. Calling for gold was a potential solution or, at least a postponement of this. His creating a calf might not even be seen as blasphemous - he could have been creating a throne (i.e., dwelling place, like a tabernacle) for the LORD. It was not Aaron, but the people who claimed the calf as their god. Aaron even tried to turn the focus back to the true God, by declaring a feast to the LORD.

Reading the text closely, it becomes less strange that Aaron uses the words, 'out came this calf.' He was certainly involved in its creation, but there is much more to the story. The link to Genesis 3 thus seems helpful, especially the desire to shift blame. The text leaves room for evil and Satan to have played a role. The people's lack of trust and sin, as Aaron points out and the last verse of the text confirms, is certainly to blame. Yet, Aaron, despite whatever good intentions he might have had, is hardly as innocent as he tries to make himself sound. It is a bit disconcerting to see Aaron not as the sinful creator of the calf but as essentailly good, seeing as many of us Christians would see ourselves not as full of sin, like the people, but instead as being generally well-intentioned, like Aaron.

Ephesians 4 and knowing the (real) truth

Ephesians 4:14 (NLT) states “Then we will no longer be like children, forever changing our minds about what we believe because someone has told us something different or because someone has cleverly lied to us and made the lie sound like the truth.”

As we as a church often struggle with being deceived, this text resonated with me. The use of the word “then” indicates that there is a basis for this statement: what (then) is the secret to not being fickle or deceived?

Unity amongst Christians is the reason given in the text. Verses 2-3 state “be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other’s faults because of your love. Always keep yourselves united in the Holy Spirit, and bind yourselves together with peace.” Furthermore, those in the church are being equipped “until we come to such knowledge of God’s Son that we will be mature and full grown in the Lord, measuring up to the full stature of Christ.” (v. 13)

This gives me something to think about. How does this text relate to how we often don’t work together with other Christians and/or have the tendency to think that our own church is (always) right and best? How good are such things when seen in light of Eph 4:14?

The genealogy of Genesis 11: could Shem have met Abram, his grandson of 8 generations?

The dating of those in the genealogy of Genesis 11, including the possibility that greatgrandparents outlived their grandchildren’s children, intrigued me so much that I had to do the math. So I made a chart to find out exactly who would have outlived who. This chart is based on the assumption that no extra generations are skipped in the genealogy, which might have happened (e.g., Shem begetting (i.e., fathering) the father/ancestor of Arphaxad at 100 and not Arphaxad himself)). 

If we number the date of Arphaxad’s birth as 100, this is how the years work:

100	Shem begets Arphaxad (2 years after flood) + lives another 500 years	Shem dies in ‘600’
135	Arphaxad begets Shelah + lives another 403 years	Arphaxad dies in ‘538’
165	Shelah begets Eber + lives another 403 years	Shelah dies in ‘568’
199	Eber begets Peleg + lives another 430 years	Eber dies in ‘629’
229	Peleg begets Reu + lives another 209 years	Peleg dies in ‘438’
261	Reu begets Serug + lives another 207 years	Reu dies in ‘468’
291	Serug begets Nahor + lives another 200 years	Serug dies in ‘491’
320	Nahor begets Terah + lives another 119 years	Nahor dies in ‘439’
390	Terah becomes father of Abram; lives total of 205 years	Terah dies in ‘525’

On the basis of this calculation, Shem would still have been alive when Abram was born and when Nahor died. In fact, all of the first four generations outlive the next five. Only Eber outlives Shem, at least according to the numbers given. This gives a different impression (again) of Abram leaving his family – especially assuming others of the earlier generation also lived so long.

If we include Noah in the genealogy, he would have died in 448 (98 being the year that the flood ended, and he lived 350 more years after the flood). That means Peleg would have died before Noah did, despite Noah. What is more interesting is that Abram could have known Noah since Noah would still have been alive when he was born.

Reading the whole Bible in a year (again).

I’m thankful to have kept with my plan last year to read through thewhole Bible in a year. This is not to say that I was always good at it: at times I found it a bit of a chore, and I got behind in my reading (I skipped over Ezekiel, reading it separately on my last vacation). Yet, I found it worthwhile and something that was important for me to do as a biblical scholar. Because of that I’ve decided to do it again this year (albeit with a different plan – not the “classic plan” but a “thematic plan.”)

I’ve also decided that working ahead is a good idea, so reading a number of chapters was the first project of our recent trip to Munich. All the thoughts and questions that come up as I read remind me again of why I believe it is good to read the Bible through.

These are some of the thoughts from the first few readings:

1. Ephesians 4: 14 (NLT) – “Then we will no longer be like children, forever changing our minds about what we believe because someone has told us something different or because someone has cleverly lied to us and made the lie sound like the truth.”

The use of the word “then” indicates that there is a basis for this statement: what (then) is the secret to not being fickle or deceived? I’ll get back to this in a later blog entry (feel free to look up the text yourself).

2. Genesis 11-12

I’ve always seen Abram’s going to Canaan as such a huge step of faith – leaving his country, his relatives and his father’s house (Gen 12:1). Yet, Gen 11:31 indicates that Terah, Abram’s father, had already brought the family – himself, Abram, Sarai, and Lot – away from Ur with the plan to go to Canaan! They just stopped part way in Haran instead of going all the way. Abram received the call (to continue?) to go to Canaan after his father passed away.

On one hand, these details in Genesis 11 make Abram’s response to God’s call seem less significant. After all, what did he have to lose? However, perhaps there’s also something to appreciate about how things were set in place (through Abram’s father) so that Abram was more likely (and more open) to respond to God’s call.

3. The genealogy of Genesis 11. Like most people, I tend to skip over the genealogies as being one of the most boring aspects of reading the Bible today. However, two things struck me when reading this genealogy and looking at the ages.

1. God says (before the flood) in Gen 6:3 “My Spirit will not put up with humans for such a long time, for they are only mortal flesh. In the future, they will live no more than 120 years. Nonetheless in the list of Shem (son of Noah) and his descendents, people live 400+ years.

2. If you look at the dates and do a quick calculation, you can come to the conclusion that, with everyone bearing children before they turn 40 while living 400 years in the first generation and only 200 years in the later generations, some of the older generations would then outlive the younger generations.

4. In Genesis 9, Noah curses Ham’s family, so why then is he the father of all the nations that become so powerful later on? The curse Noah puts on Ham’s family is: “A curse on the Canaanites! May they be the lowest of servants to the descendants of Shem and Japheth.” (Gen 9:25)

Ham becomes the father of the builders of the foundations of Babylonia and Nineveh. He is also ancestor of theCanaanites, Philistines, Jebusites, Amorites, Hivites, and ‘lots more unpleasant people’ (Matthijs’s words). None of the other sons had any ‘peoples,’ although obviously Shem becomes the great grandfather of Abram and the Israelites who later annihilate the Canaanites (see the book of Joshua). Japheth only becomes the ancestor of all the people mightily involved in the sea trade.

Thus all these people who cause many difficulties for the Israelites (and overpower them at times) in the future are descendants of Ham, which doesn't seem to make sense from the original curse. How is that then possible? 

Matthijs pointed out that animosity could be projected through one's ancestors – the greatest insult being that you are a descendent of Ham. (later on, also Moab, the people from Lot's daughters). 

Any other thoughts? 

In case you’re thinking about reading the Bible through in a year (or two), the following website gives some helpful resources: http://writingandliving.net/2013/12/31/links-new-year/

Biblical characters as neither fully good or bad

One of the things that continutes to fascinate me about many of the Old Testament narratives is how often something unexpected happens (at least, as unexpected as things can be if you've read the Bible numerous times). 2 Chronicles 22-24, the story of king Joash, is one such example. 

The story begins with Ahaziah, son of Jehoram, becoming king of Judah. He was an evil king, listening to bad counselors, including his mother Athaliah. After only reigning a year, his downfall was ordained. He was killed by Jehu since he was of house of Ahaz. Ahaziah was buried on account of his being "the grandson of Jehoshaphat, who sought the Lord with all his heart.” (22:9) There was no obvious successor to the throne and so Athaliah, Ahaziah's mother, took over. She subsequently attempted to kill her son's entire family: she "set about to destroy all the royal family of the house of Judah." (22:10). However, Jehoshabeath, the king’s sister, managed to rescue her nephew Joash. She and her husband - priest Jehoiada - hid him while Athaliah reigned over the land. Seven years later, Jehoiada "took courage" (23:1) and helped organize a revolt of which the Levites played a significant role. Joash was crowned king and anointed. Athaliah was ruthlessly put to death. Jehoiada then "made a covenant between himself and all the people and the king that they should be the Lord’s people."(23:16). The house of Baal was desecrate, and its priests killed. Because of this, "all the people of the land rejoiced, and the city was quiet after Athaliah had been killed with the sword." (23:23). Furthermore, "Joash did what was right in the sight of the Lord all the days of the priest Jehoiada." (24:2). 

  

Up to this point, the story seems like a classical variation on the themes of God punishing evil and bringing good to those whom he loves (i.e., his followers, including the house of David). Except for the excessive blood and guts part, it seems to be an ideal 'Sunday School' story. After all, it is full of morals - and both Joash and the priest Jehoiada - seem like ideal examples. Except that this is not the end of the story, and both the king and the priest hardly remain examples to follow. Jehoiada is the first to disappoint us. 

Joash decided early on his reign to restore the house of LORD, and commanded the priests and Levites to go "out to the cities of Judah and gather money from all Israel to repair the house of your God, year by year; and see that you act quickly.” (24:5). However, nothing quick happened (2 Kings 12 reports that nothing had happened by the 23rd year of Joash's reign). So Joash reprimanded Jehoiada for not getting the Levites to act quickly. Joash himself then gave the command that everyone should "bring in for the Lord the tax that Moses the servant of God laid on Israel in the wilderness." (24:9). 

The response to that command indicates the seriousness of what Jehoiada had allowed to happen. Money came in abundance. In fact, "All the leaders and all the people rejoiced and brought their tax and dropped it into the chest until it was full." (24:10). And so the temple was repaired. Yet, even as much as Jehoiada had been neglectful in following the LORD, his sins were nothing compared to those of Joash. 

"They abandoned the house of the Lord, the God of their ancestors, and served the sacred poles and the idols." (24:19). The LORD sent prophets, but they would not listen - not even to Zechariah son of Jehoiada. In fact, "by command of the king they stoned him to death in the court of the house of the Lord." (24:21) Thus Joash killed his cousin, the son of those who had shown kindness to him by rescuing him from certain death and placing him on the throne. Joash eventually suffered defeat at the hands of a much smaller army because God acted on behalf or the Aramties. Having been left severely wounded by the battle, Joash's servants then killed him on his bed (because of the death of Jehoiada's son). They buried him in Jerusalem but not in the tombs of the kings.

It is a sad story, and one that I find a bit unnerving. It seems disconcerting that this child saved from certain death would turn against the LORD who had saved him and with whom he made a covenant - and then also against the family of his protectors and saviours. It is a story that seems unfit for Sunday School lessons. At the same time, it is the story of our ancestors in faith and rejecting God is hardly something that only Joash has chosen to do.

King Saul in light of the end of the book of Judges

Although the book of Samuel follows shortly after the book of Judges, I somehow have always missed the connection between certain details.

When Saul is told that he will become king, he is surprised: How could someone from the tribe of Benjamin be fit to be king? I'd always assumed it was a bit of polite humility, a sort of residual shame from Benjamin being the youngest child in the family. However, it was the Benjamites who were the tribe that had been almost destroyed because of what happened to the Levite's concubine. They only reason they survived as a tribe was because they either had foreign wives or stole from the other Israelites. In light of these last chapters of Judges, it's now more obvious to me why both Saul, and the rest of Israel, was be a little less certain that Saul, a Benjaminite, should be king.

Furthermore, right before Saul actually becomes king, he calls up the rest of Israel to fight and save one of their own. To do so, he takes an oxen and cuts it up in twelve pieces and sends it to the twelve tribes. The message was that the same thing would happen to the oxen of whoever did not join the fight. It was an effective way of conveying the message, although I find the parallel to what happened with the concubine and how it began the near annihilation of the tribe of Benjamin to be a little disturbing.

Both of these connections to the book of Judges and its history of Israel's sinful past now colour my understanding of King Saul. I know the end of the story and how bad things turn out, but I had never really ever noticed at the beginning of the story all these subtle warnings on account of the intertextual parallels to Judges.

The shocking end of Judges

The end of the book of Judges has always bothered me. It covers gang-rape and revenge, with a Levite, God's representative, playing a central role. Yet, when I came to the story in reading through the Bible this year, the story bothered me just a little bit less this time.

The Levite's concubine is still offered by their host and her partner to the raging men at the door, she is still gang-raped and found dead in front of the door the next morning. The Levite still cuts her body up, sending the different parts to the tribes of Israel who then wipe out almost the entire tribe of Benjamin. It remains horrid, cruel and gruesome. Yet, this time one thing struck me differently.

When the various tribes received the message of what had happened to this woman, they all reacted immediately with: this is not how it should be. No questions were first asked about whether the woman, who had been unfaithful to the Levite, deserved what happened. Instead, her death and what happened was seen as a horrible evil. Furthermore, all those involved were punished, not just those proven to have actually committed the crime. All those who lived there and had allowed such things to develop and happen were killed, being considered equally guilty.

Having read and heard so much about human trafficking lately, it was easy to make the link to this story. That is where the shock comes in. What happened to the concubine happens in greater and lesser degrees to different women around the world. And how do we react? We say the women deserved it, or we claim that we know nothing. We talk about how good our justice system is that we make sure that rules are kept well, privacy is guarded and we make sure that people are not punished unjustly for crimes they didn't commit. Yet, where is the reaction found in Judges? Where is our shock and rage, alongside of a desire for justice and willingness to destroy the evil even when it hurts ourselves?

It seems ironic that the book of Judges - where everyone did what was right in their own eyes - has something to say to us today about being appropriately shocked when it comes to evil and justice.

Strange stories in Exodus

I've now come to the book of Exodus, and I've bumped into some strange stories.

The first was the end of Exodus 4. Moses is finally underway to Egypt. And then the LORD comes to him and is about to kill him (verse 24). And this simply doesn't make sense to me. I'm not saying that Moses' irritating excuses not to go to Egypt (culminating with his claim not to be able to speak well) would not have been displeasing to God, but God answered all of his excuses, even providing his brother Aaron to help him. After all this effort, Moses was finally doing what God asked, so it seems strange to me that God would then come to kill him. The story only gets more strange. Zipporah, Moses' wife (and thus not Moses himself), circumcises their son to appease God. And she throws the foreskin on Moses' feet. (as an aside: feet are not the part of the body I immediately think of when I hear about circumciscion, and the NIV Study Bible even notes that feet is most likely an euphemism). Zipporah seems not too pleased about the whole event, but Moses is not killed. And Zipporah disappears from the story without a further word, only being mentioned again in chapter 18 when her father brings her back to Moses in the desert.
When I read this story, I feel like I'm so far removed from the cultural context that I simply can't fully understand it. And perhaps that is enough - to acknowledge that this story reminds me of how the Bible and its culture isn't entirely understandable.

And yet, at the same time, there's also some great stories where I have to smile at how obvious they are.
At the beginning of Exodus 5, Moses and Aaron let Pharoah know that the LORD wanted him to let His people go to worship Him. Pharoah responds by saying that he knew nothing of this Lord. And Moses and Aaron pretty much repeat their request, as if they hadn't really heard what Pharoah had said. It seems that the Bible clearly is pointing out that Pharoah's knowing God was irrelevant. The LORD still wanted them to go. As the story continues, we see both that the LORD will make sure his people go, and Pharoah will also come to know Him.

But my favourite story is still that of Aaron's staff (Exodus 7:8-13). To show God's power, Aaron's staff becomes a snake. But the magicians of Pharoah also make their staffs into snakes. As reader, I can't help but thinking, "oh, I guess that miracle wasn't all that special and doesn't really prove that much." And then Aaron's snake eats up all of their snakes. And I can't help but laugh. Translated into language of today, it's like God said to the magicians: "You think you're so good, but yeah, whatever."