Abstract
Two examples from Common Worship that make no sense: one a prescribed reading and the other a post-Communion prayer.
Clergy using Common Worship next year need to be warned of two instances of nonsense, one in the version of the Bible selected for reading, and the other in a post-Communion prayer. Both result from a misunderstanding of the Old Testament.
An inappropriate translation
For the Old Testament reading of Genesis 29.15–28 in Year A on the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Proper 12), those devising the Lectionary have chosen the New Revised Standard Version. This passage tells the story of how Laban duped Jacob into marrying his elder daughter Leah. The translators render the beginning of verse 17 as ‘Leah’s eyes were lovely’, commenting in a footnote ‘Meaning of Hebrew uncertain’. Such a rendering makes nonsense of the story.
What is clear is that Leah is being compared unfavourably with her younger sister Rachel, who is described as ‘graceful and lovely’. Laban has not been able to get his elder daughter married because of her looks. Eyes for the Hebrews were a particularly important part of a girl’s features. Leah’s eyes were certainly not ‘lovely’ but made her unattractive. Desperate to get her married before her younger sister, Laban tricks Jacob by placing Leah in the marriage tent. Jacob, no doubt well wined after the first day of the marriage feast, in the dark fails to realize that his bride is not who he supposes her to be. Leah would certainly have kept quiet.
Other versions of this incident reflect the sense of this event. It is true that the word which the New Revised Standard Version translates as ‘lovely’ is not used for eyes anywhere else in the Old Testament. It comes from a root meaning ‘tender’, ‘delicate’ or ‘soft’. So the Authorized Version translates it as ‘tender-eyed’, the Revised Standard Version as ‘weak’, the New English Bible as ‘dull-eyed’ and the Jerusalem Bible as ‘no sparkle’. Clearly, possible suitors of Leah were put off by her eyes. Indeed, the author of this passage may have had no appropriate word to describe her condition, which must have been particularly severe.
Like the Revised Standard Version, the New Revised Standard Version makes little sense of this passage by simply referring to ‘the week’ in verses 27–28. The Hebrew says ‘complete seven’. The reference is to the customary week of celebrations following a marriage (Judges 14.12). So, the New English Bible translates it as ‘the seven days feast’ and the Jerusalem Bible ‘the marriage week’. Laban, to avoid any embarrassment, urges Jacob to accept that he has been tricked and complete the week’s festivities. In return, he is promised Rachel after another seven years’ labour. Having no other option if he wants Rachel to be his wife, Jacob accepts. The fact that he has already worked seven years for her shows how much he loves her. Later, he will have his revenge on Laban.
We should probably accept Laban’s excuse for his actions as true. There is evidence of the practice of marrying an elder daughter first in many societies. His problem has been Leah’s physical unattractiveness. Tricking Jacob provided a way of getting Leah off his hands.
The Jacob narrative contains a series of tricks and counter-tricks. Clearly, the author sees these accounts of what we would call sharp practice as nothing to condemn. This is because he regarded them as part of what the Hebrews understood as wisdom, the ability to see the order in things, how one thing relates to another. The tricked have only themselves to blame if they cannot discern what is going on. Jesus confirms this view of life in the parable of the Unjust Steward, who, faced with disaster, wisely – if fraudulently – took appropriate action to secure his future.
In the Genesis narrative, Jacob, Laban and even Rachel all practise successful deceptions. Clearly, these stories were hugely appreciated in the circles in which they took root, probably told at night round campfires. Indeed, their hearers would readily appreciate the irony that the younger brother who had tricked his elder out of his father’s blessing (Genesis 27) was now duped by an elder sister whom he supposed to be the younger. Understood properly, these narratives remain as entertaining today as when they were first related. That is why it is important that a sensible translation is read and not the version appointed in the Lectionary.
An inappropriate prayer
The post-Communion prayer for the Second Sunday before Lent regards the tree of life set in the garden of Eden and the eucharistic bread as parallel gifts from God: God our creator, by your gift the tree of life was set at the heart of the earthly paradise, and the bread of life at the heart of your Church …
The two trees placed at the centre of the garden define the limits of what it means to be human. One is described as ‘the tree of the knowledge of good and evil’. This is a Hebrew shorthand expression for that knowledge which only God can have because he is outside the system that he has created. While humankind is to be encouraged to understand everything within the created order (there is no conflict with science), they cannot get outside the system to the place where God is to discover the things that God alone knows – what happens after death, why there is unjust suffering, those times when God appears as the enemy. The Old Testament is not afraid to spell out these issues in, for example, many psalms, the book of Job, and God’s call to Abraham to sacrifice his only son whom he loves. Yet despite the limitation that God has placed on our knowledge, as Job discovers, we can still know God. What the Hebrew author spells out, in what is probably one of the earliest narratives in the Old Testament, is that in the very act of the creation of humankind, God determined that faith could only be exercised ‘in spite of’, that we were created to be agnostic believers. So Jesus, the one perfect representation of humankind, dies on the cross with an unanswered question on his lips: ‘My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?’ Thereby Jesus both affirms his faith (‘My God’) and testifies to his ignorance (‘Why?’).
The other tree comes into its own only at the end of the narrative. It is the tree that promises life, immortality. Yet in contrast to other ancient creation narratives, this early Hebrew author categorically rejects the idea that God ever intended that humankind should be immortal. To eat the fruit of the tree of life was forbidden and, to ensure that the man and the woman would be unable to do so, they are expelled from the garden. We have to live this life with the certainty of death and in ignorance of what lies beyond. That is part of the knowledge of good and evil that belongs to God alone. It is under these conditions that we are invited to express our faith.
The paralleling of the tree of life whose fruit is forbidden with the eucharistic bread is a nonsense. Challenged to suggest something better, I venture: God our creator, You give your children their daily bread and feed your Church with the bread of life
