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7. The Ancestors as Heroes
- Jewish Publication Society
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7 The Ancestors as Heroes Primary Reading: Genesis 12–50 (esp. chaps. 12, 20, 26, 37). Patriarchal History? The Book of Genesis is often divided into two parts: chapters 1–11, Universal Myth; and chapters 12–50, Patriarchal History. To the extent that names help us shape how we read units, these names (as well as these divisions) are both problematic. The appellation “Universal Myth” is the less problematic of the two. By and large, the first eleven chapters of Genesis should be viewed as myths in the sense I described in chapter 6. They are stories dealing with issues of collective importance , and should not be seen as science, natural history, or history. Most of the stories deal with universal concerns. This is certainly the case for the initial stories , as I showed in chapter 6, but it is also true of most of the later stories. Genesis 10 is a long, segmented genealogy1 that deals with the relationships among the earth’s various peoples. Likewise, 11:1–9 contains the well-known Tower of Babel story, which ends: “and from there the LORD scattered them over the face of the whole earth”—it is hard to imagine a more universal story! This universal setting makes sense, since the first eleven chapters of Genesis may be read as a dialogue between “crime and punishment,”2 or more specifically, as successive failed attempts by God to create an obedient humankind: the Eden generation disobeys, the flood generation disobeys, and finally the generation of the Tower of Babel disobeys. These failures justify the choosing of Abraham in chapter 12.3 Yet Abraham, or Abram, as he is first called, is not first introduced in Genesis 12. Rather, he is introduced in the genealogy in 11:26: “When Terah had lived 70 years, he begot Abram, Nahor, and Haran.” In fact, one version of Abram’s migration from Mesopotamia is preserved in verse 31: “Terah took his son Abram, his grandson Lot the son of Haran, and his daughter-in-law Sarai, the wife of his son Abram, and they set out together from Ur of the Chaldeans 49 for the land of Canaan; but when they had come as far as Haran, they settled there.” Thus 12:1, “The LORD said to Abram, ‘Go forth from your native land and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you,’” is not the beginning of a new story. Furthermore, though much in chapters 1–11 is universal in outlook, not all of the material may be characterized that way. Genesis 2:1–3 describes the origin of the Shabbat, which is a uniquely Israelite institution, as “a sign for all time between Me and the people of Israel” (Exod. 31:17). Thus, this supposedly universal introduction includes elements of particularity—which is not surprising, given that Israelites wrote these stories for an Israelite audience. The term “Patriarchal History” is doubly problematic as it is applied to chapters 12–50: they are neither “patriarchal” nor are they “history” in the commonly understood sense of the word. The Matriarchs play a major role in many of these stories.4 In Genesis 27, it is Rebekah who makes sure that the right son (Jacob, not Esau) receives the blessing from Isaac. In 25:22, when she feels the two children struggling in her womb, she directly inquires of the LORD, and is answered directly (v. 23). Tamar in Genesis 38 is another strong woman, outsmarting her father-in-law, Judah. She is not condemned by the text; in fact Judah recognizes that “She is more right than I” (38:26), and she is rewarded with children. Her first born son, Perez, is the ancestor of David. She is even named in a blessing in Ruth 4:12: “may your house be like the house of Perez whom Tamar bore to Judah.” Thus, although the Patriarchs outnumber the Matriarchs in terms of verses, and although the society depicted is by and large patriarchal (that is, the main locus of power is in the men),5 this unit should not be called “Patriarchal History.” Meanwhile, “history” is notoriously hard to define. It is often understood as an account of what actually took place.6 Such accounts can never be identical to the events themselves, yet we typically judge historians by how closely their account mirrors or maps those events—by what they add, omit, or twist. “History” in this sense hardly applies to...