Studies in the Five Books of Moses

By Dr. Martin Sicker

The five studies in this volume focus on aspects of the narratives in the Five Books of Moses (The Pentateuch) that have frequently been glossed over by commentators, ancient and modern, and remain contentious to this very day. These studies address issues such as the complex triangular relationships between Sarah, Abraham, and Hagar as depicted in the book of Genesis; the ‘bridegroom of blood’ episode in the story of Moses and his Midianite wife Zipporah as related in the book of Exodus; the meaning and implications of the Golden Rule of biblical ethics as set forth in the book of Leviticus; the zealotry of Phinehas as seen from different perspectives in the book of Numbers; and the differences between the episodes of the Israelite spies as depicted in the books of Numbers and Deuteronomy. Although these studies do not claim to resolve the issues they examine, it is their purpose to stimulate further interest in the complexities of the ancient biblical narratives and the hidden insights about human nature they provide.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781664137530

Dr. Martin Sicker

Dr. Martin Sicker is a writer and lecturer on the Middle Eastern geopolitical and cultural history, with a special focus on Jewish history and religion. He is the author of 62 previous books on these subjects as well as on geopolitics, political theory, and political economy.

Book preview

Copyright © 2020 by Dr. Martin Sicker.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not

necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any

responsibility for them.

Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984,

2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 10/16/2020

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

820794

Contents

1. The Story of Sarah, Abraham, and Hagar

2. The Story of Moses and Zipporah

3. The ‘Golden Rule’ in Jewish Ethics

4. Story of Phinehas

5. The Story of the Spies

References

Notes

The Story of Sarah, Abraham, and Hagar

1

The Story of Sarah, Abraham, and Hagar

Toward the end of the eleventh chapter of the book of Genesis the biblical narrator concludes his mythopoeic rendering of the universal political and moral history of man and society from Adam to Abraham (originally Abram), and introduces the emergence of Abraham on the stage of history, with a few details that set the stage for the story of the children of Israel that will occupy the remainder of the Torah. Of immediate relevance for purposes of the present study, we are informed that along with his brother, Abram and Nahor took them wives: the name of Abram’s wife was Sarai; and the name of Nahor’s wife, Milcah, the daughter of Haran, the father of Milcah, and the father of Iscah. [According to rabbinic tradition, Sarai’s birth name was Iscah, and was affectionately called Sarai (my princess) by Abram after his marriage to his niece] And Sarai was barren; she had no child (Gen. 11:29-30).

In stark contrast to the story of Noah and his sons, who were assigned their civilizing mission as a family unit, Abram is to begin his alone, just as Adam did at the very beginning of the human enterprise. Abram is not to have any children until he has satisfied the basic requirements of his election. To ensure this, the biblical narrator tells us that he took a single wife and she was not only childless, but was barren, incapable of conceiving. Indeed, his wife’s barrenness would constitute a test of Abram’s character and his complete trust and faith in God’s subsequent promises to him that he would be the progenitor of a distinct nation with a unique divine mission.

Out of his deep devotion to Sarai, Abram had never seriously considered taking another wife, even though that would have been acceptable under the traditional Hurrian family law in an instance where one’s wife failed to produce children. He clearly preferred leaving a reasonable doubt in his and everyone else’s mind as to which of the couple was responsible for their failure to produce any offspring. In this way he spared his beloved Sarai the opprobrium of barrenness. By declining to demonstrate his virility through another woman he had covered their relationship with a canopy of deliberately formulated doubt.

Abram’s odyssey began at the age of seventy-five, when he responded to the divinely inspired adjuration to Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father’s house, unto the land that I will show thee. And I will make of thee a great nation (12:1-2). After undergoing a number of harrowing experiences, the word of the Lord came unto Abram in a vision, saying: Fear not, Abram, I am thy shield, thy reward shall be exceedingly great. In a response reflecting his frustration, Abram said: O Lord God, what wilt Thou give me, seeing I go hence childless . . . Behold, to me Thou hast given no seed, and, lo, one born in my house is to be mine heir. And, behold, the word of the Lord came unto him, saying: This man shall not be thine heir; but he that shall come forth out of thine own bowels shall be thine heir (15:1-4).

We need to pause at this point in the narrative to ponder Abram’s complaint that to me Thou hast given no seed. Is Abram expressing a lack of confidence in the divine promise, I will make of thee a great nation, that a great nation will be derived directly from Abram? In response to this fundamental question, it was suggested that some maintained that Abram was certain that he would have children, since God had already promised this to him; but he did not know if his children would be righteous or wicked. Abram therefore asked, ‘What will You give me’ (15:2)? He was saying, what kind of children will You give me? If they be good, I will be happy. But if not, I will continue to be childless. If the child that I am destined to have will be wicked, then it would be better for me to remain childless . . . I have no doubt whatever that You will give me a son. But I want to have this son for a while before I die [considering his advanced age], so that I will be able to teach him the mysteries . . . God promised him that he would live for a long enough time after his son was born, to be able to teach him all his wisdom.¹

In this regard, it has been suggested that Abram foresaw that those whom he had converted to the true faith, and even his nephew Lot – had or would eventually abandon his teachings. Of all his disciples not one would remain upon whom Abraham could depend to carry forward the belief in the Creator. Given his own childlessness, with what could God reward him to assure the dissemination of belief in One God?² It is noteworthy that at least one commentator, focusing on the wording of the text that asserts he that shall come forth out of thine own bowels shall be thine heir (15:4), notes that the use of the Hebrew term mimei’ekha, translated as out of thine own bowels, is unusual. The more usual terms used to describe fatherhood are based either on yarekh or heletz, both referring to the yield of one’s ‘loins.’ "Whereas both these latter designate purely physical parts of the body, just meayim is used as a designation for that sphere of the human body which is the seat of feelings, especially pity and sympathy, just those qualities which are the most characteristic delicately sensitive traits of Jewish people which are the heritage of ‘the seed of Abraham.’"³ In effect, the divine response to Abram thus assures him of the continuity of his inherent qualities throughout succeeding generations.

Abram had now been assured that he was to be the biological father of his heir rather than merely a legal and spiritual guide. This tiding of good news carried with it very troubling implications of a personal nature. The climatic and environmental change from Mesopotamia to the hill country of Cisjordan had not brought about any apparent change in his or Sarai’s capacity for bearing a child. Ten years had passed since they left their family in Haran, and Abram was now eighty-five years of age and Sarai was already well past her prime years for childbirth. It seemed reasonable that if he were still to father a son, it would have to be soon and apparently through someone other than Sarai. It is noteworthy that the sages of the Talmud appear to have used the experience of Abram and Sarai, who began their lives anew after their relocation from Mesopotamia to Canaan, and after ten years still failed to produce a child to succeed them, as the basis for an important ruling in family law. In order to assure conformity with the biblical command to propagate, Be fruitful and multiply (1:28), they enacted the following rule: If a man took a wife and lived with her for ten years and she bore no child, he may not abstain [any longer from the duty of propagation] . . . If she miscarried [the period of ten years] is reckoned from the time of her miscarriage.⁴

Now, God had made it clear that it was Sarai and not Abram who was infertile, dispelling unequivocally any uncertainty Abram may have harbored about his capacity to sire a child. But, unhappily, if he were to become the biological father of his heir, their present childlessness would have to be attributed to Sarai, bringing their longstanding charade to an end and making it clear to all that it was she who was incapable of conceiving and delivering an heir to him. Given the divine assurance regarding his virility, was he now compelled to take a second sexual partner in order to bring the divine promise to realization? Was Sarai, now in her advanced maturity, who shared with him the exigencies of his spiritual odyssey all these many years, to be set aside in favor of a new and younger woman who would displace her as mistress of the household upon giving birth to his heir? Was the actualization of the divine covenant made with him to be contingent on the destruction of his domestic tranquility, with his beloved Sarai bearing the brunt of the damage? Yet, what alternative did he have? There seemed to be no change in Sarai’s physical state subsequent to the vision granted him. How much longer, given their ages, could they go on hoping that somehow Sarai who had been barren all these many years would suddenly become capable of conceiving and bearing an heir?

The narrator is silent on the matter, but it would seem reasonable to assume that Abram revealed the contents of his vision to Sarai. Surely he would do nothing to alter their relationship after so many years without first confiding in her and sharing with her the terrible dilemma with which he was now confronted. Abram’s vision had revealed that he was to be the biological father of his heir, but was silent with regard to who would be the biological mother. It now seemed evident it was not to be Sarai. Once having overcome the initial shock that not she but another was to be the mother of Abram’s heir, Sarai regained her composure and responded to Abram’s depiction of his dilemma with realism and astuteness. Clearly, she did not wish in any way to become an impediment to the fulfillment of the covenant and its promise for the future, a future she desired and had worked for no less than her husband. Since it was now evident that it was she who was incapable of producing an heir, she concluded that Abram must indeed take another woman to bear him a son.

Under normal circumstances this would present no serious problem. It was accepted practice under the customary Mesopotamian law, which they continued to consider authoritative, for a wife who proved unable to bear offspring to provide her husband with another woman to bear him children in her stead. This ancient practice is reflected in one of the Mesopotamian legal documents from Nuzi, wherein it specifies: Kelim-ninu has been given in marriage to Shennima. If Kelim-ninu bears (children), Shennima shall not take another wife; but if Kelim-ninu does not bear, Kelim-ninu shall acquire a woman of the land as wife for Shennima, and Kelim-ninu may not send the offspring away.⁵

However, Abram needed more than just a physical heir. He required that his heir be nurtured intellectually and spiritually in a manner that would both ensure and inspire him to the extent that he might willingly assume the burden of continuing the civilization building mission undertaken by Abram with the support of his wife and partner Sarai. It is noteworthy that nowhere in the biblical narrative is there any clear indication of what the Creator wanted or expected from Abram in this regard, perhaps other than an implicit rejection of the polytheism that pervaded the cultures of the known world, sowing immorality and injustice. Abram was chosen precisely because he rejected polytheism and its accompanying idolatrous practices that defied reason, and thereby laid the groundwork for the monotheism that would be the basis for the ultimate civilization to be created centuries later by his descendants.

Perhaps the only hint of this may be seen in Abram’s response to the vision, cited above, Abram said: O Lord God, what wilt Thou give me, seeing I go hence childless. The Hebrew text, awkwardly translated as O Lord God, actually states Adonai YHVH, literally translated as ‘our lord or master YHVH.’ One of the prominent sages of the Talmud is reported as having asserted that "from the day that the Holy One, Blessed be He, created the universe, no man ever referred to Him as adon [lord or master] until Abraham came and called Him adon," as in this text.⁶ In effect, Abram was the first to acknowledge YHVH as ‘the master of the universe,’ recognizing no other so-called deity.

Such monotheistic nurturing required the sort of home environment that Sarai and Abram had created together. The problem was how to maintain that environment intact if an alien element in the form of a wife nurtured in a pagan culture were to be introduced into it in a position of direct influence, such as would most likely be the case if such a woman, without undergoing a process of acculturation to the beliefs held by Abram and Sarai that could take years, suddenly were to become Abram’s wife and mother of his son and heir.

While Abram equivocated, Sarai was resolute and decided to take a personally painful but not unprecedented approach to resolving these concerns. She would not simply allow Abram to find another presumably local woman to bear him a son; instead, she would formally present one of her personal servants to Abram, one that had no roots or familial connections in Canaan, as her surrogate. It turned out that she had a handmaid, an Egyptian, whose name was Hagar (16:1), identified again two verses later as an Egyptian, emphasizing that she was a woman without Canaanite roots or connections. It has been noted that the expression she had rather than ‘they had’ suggests that the shifhah, translated as handmaid, actually refers to a chattel slave that exclusively belonged to Sarai, over whom, by customary law, she had absolute personal authority, as would be the case if the servant was hers as part of her dowry.

It is noteworthy that Judaic scholars have long been divided over how to understand the relationship between Abram, Sarai, and Hagar. If Hagar was a slave that Sarai acquired in Egypt, then, according to ancient legal tradition, whatever a woman acquires belongs to her husband.⁷ In this case, Hagar would have been the joint property of Abram and Sarai, and not the latter’s exclusively. Other commentators cite another tradition that describes Hagar as "a handmaid of melog or ‘plucking’ whom he [Abram] was bound to support but might not sell."⁸

‘Plucking,’ or melog, in the sense used here, is a technical term that refers to the portion of a wife’s dowry, the usufruct of which the husband may enjoy without any responsibility for its loss or deterioration. In other words, ‘plucking’ or melog represents a category of property wherein the husband may enjoy the benefits but the principal belongs to the wife, and only she can dispose of it. In this case, Abram could enjoy the usufruct of Hagar, her child, but she would remain the property of Sarai. However, for this theory to hold, according to traditional rabbinic teaching, it might be more plausible to suggest that Hagar the Egyptian was actually a slave given to her by Sarai’s father as part of her dowry.⁹

Alternatively, it has been suggested that Hagar was an Egyptian who presumably was acquired by Sarai as a compensatory gift from Pharaoh for her problematic compulsory stay at the palace (12:14-20), and subsequently acknowledged by Abram as Sarai’s personal chattel, presumably because of his role in her discomfiture, which had to be relieved by divine intervention. This seems the most likely explanation of how Hagar the Egyptian came to be a personal servant of Sarai. One early rabbinic source takes the notion even a step farther, imagining that Hagar was Pharaoh’s daughter. When Pharaoh saw what was done by the divine hand on Sarah’s behalf in his own house, he took his daughter and gave her to Sarah, saying, ‘Better let my daughter be a handmaid in this house than a mistress in another house.’¹⁰

In any case, because of Hagar’s peculiar status as a surrogate for Sarai, the child to which she would give birth would thus be considered Sarai’s and not that of the biological mother; Sarai would thus be able to give Abram a child, albeit through a surrogate mother. Once the child was born, the surrogate would revert to her original status as Sarai’s servant without any legal standing as biological mother of the child, and would not be entitled to any formal change of status in Abram’s household. Sarai therefore chose for this purpose her personal slave, Hagar, over whom Abram had no proprietary rights.

With typical economy of expression, the biblical narrator simply relates: And Sarai said unto Abram: ‘Behold now, the Lord hath restrained me from bearing; go in, I pray thee, unto my handmaid; it may be that I shall be builded up through her.’ And Abram hearkened to the voice of Sarai. And Sarai Abram’s wife took Hagar the Egyptian, her handmaid, after Abram had dwelt ten years in the land of Canaan, and gave her to Abram her husband to be his wife (16:2-3).

Sarai broached the idea to Abram as an optimum solution since it provided a means for obtaining a direct heir without destroying or radically altering the domestic environment that he and Sarai had developed and nurtured with such care over so many years. It has been suggested that Sarai’s speculation that it may be that I shall be builded up through her may have reflected the folk wisdom of her time, which said that adoption was conducive to fertility. Not only might Sarai gain a child indirectly through the handmaiden: by this method her own infertility problem might be cured so that she would give birth to a child of her very own. It is noteworthy in this regard that it is well known in modern times that women who have trouble conceiving and who then adopt a child often become pregnant sometime afterward, and this may have encouraged Sarai to present her offer to Abram.¹¹

At Sarai’s insistence, he ultimately agreed to take Hagar to be his consort for the purpose of obtaining the heir he so desired and she gave her to Abram to be his ishah, that is, either as a wife or more likely as a concubine; the Hebrew term ishah may mean either wife or concubine.¹² It has been noted that concubinage as a social institution has long been known to have existed in ancient Babylon. The laws of Hammurabi mention it, but apparently restrict its application to the case where the wife was a priestess. Of far more immediate interest are Nuzi contracts that actually stipulate that should the wife prove to be childless she must provide her husband with a slave-woman . . . In these Nuzi documents it is clear that it is the husband who inserts the stipulation in the marriage contract in order to guard against the possibility of being left without an heir. In the biblical accounts it is the wives who, out of despair, take the initiative.¹³ It has been suggested, parenthetically, that these parallels with the biblical narrative indicate once again the dependence of the latter on an authentic, living tradition derived from the patriarchal period.¹⁴

It is not clear from the text which category of consort Sarai was proposing, although early commentators suggested that it was Sarai’s intention that Hagar be taken as a wife, and not a concubine.¹⁵ The implication of this interpretation is that Sarai rejected the option of simply ordering Hagar to Abram’s bed. It has been suggested that Any arrangement to produce an heir to Abraham would require the full consent of all concerned. To persuade Hagar to agree to this arrangement without coercion, Sarah made a sweeping concession. Sarah told Hagar that she would not assume the role of concubine, but would become a true wife of Abraham, with all privileges.¹⁶ As a practical matter, the only substantive distinction in Judaic thought between a wife and a concubine is that the former is