Parallelisms

Parallelisms
By Timothy S. Wilkinson
www.timothywilkinson.net

Hebrew poetry is constructed on an entirely different concept than the English structure we are familiar with. In English we use repeated sounds (alliteration and rhyme) and syllabic rhythms (meter) to capture a meaning deeper than the words alone can convey. In Hebrew, poets relied upon poetic parallelism. This is the repetition of a concept in such a way that each appearance of the concept in the poem adds another layer to its meaning.

In synonymous parallelisms, the second line repeats some part of the previous line in words that elucidate it:
To Jehovah belong the earth and that which fills it,
The productive land and those dwelling in it.


Antithetic parallelism makes use of contrasting thoughts:
For evildoers themselves will be cut off,
But those hoping in Jehovah are the ones that will possess the earth.


Synthetic parallelism uses additional lines to expand on an idea:
The law of Jehovah is perfect,
bringing back the soul
The reminder of Jehovah is trustworthy,
making the inexperienced one wise.


Perhaps in a future article I will write in more detail about these and other (emblematic, stairlike, and introverted) parallelisms. I bring these up here just to illustrate how ancient Hebrew writers might approach a subject in their prose.

The prophet Samuel used this type of parallel structuring in the composition of his books to powerful effect. An example of this can be seen in the introductions of the first two kings of Israel: Saul and David.

In 1 Samuel 9:2, Saul is introduced to us as being 'handsome and tall.' Chapter 16 verses 6,7 show Samuel once again choosing the 'handsome and tall' one as king, but Jehovah tells him instead to [reject the tall, Saul-like king and] choose the small, handsome one (verse 12).

In Chapter 9 verse 21 Saul declares his unworthiness to be king. In Chapter 16 verse 11, David's humble standing is such that even his own father and brothers have not found him worthy of consideration. Nevertheless, Saul is anointed with oil in a very non-public fashion--which leads to problems with his kingship being recognized later on (10:1). David is also anointed with oil (16:13) inside his father's house--and the appointment remains secret for some time.

Immediately after Saul's anointing, he is filled with the spirit of God (10:9-12). When David is anointed, he too is filled with this spirit (vs. 14)--a spirit that leaves Saul (vs. 13).

In Chapter 10 verse 3, following his anointing Saul is sent on a short journey during which he will acquire three items: a kid of the goats, loaves of bread, and wine. Chapter 16 verse 20 shows us David traveling after his anointing, carrying a kid of the goats, loaves of bread, and wine.

Both coronation accounts end with the same triumphant note: in Chapter 11 Saul saves his people from imminent danger by defeating Nahash and the Ammonite army. In Chapter 17, David outdoes his forebear by defeating the Philistine giant, Goliath and driving their army from the field.

Samuel calls attention to these parallels to set up a sort of psychological "echo" in his readers' minds. Though we do not consciously notice the pattern, it nevertheless has a ring of familiarity. We accept David wholeheartedly as the new king--not just because Samuel tells us to, but because he has made use of the subconscious power of a mini-archetype to convince us.

The Robe of Power: An Example of the Literary Genius of the Bible Writer, Samuel

By Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

My earlier blog discussed the genius of the authors of the Bible, a genius that is sometimes not apparent because it is lost in translation. Over the course of the next few blogs I wanted to share some of the literary elements of the David story that have impressed me. I hope that they might help some of my readers to look at the work of Samuel, Nathan, and other Bible writers in a new way.

Samuel, in particular, was skilled at layering complex metaphors into his writing. The first one of these that we will consider is the me’il: a cloak or coat. Samuel (and his successor, Nathan) uses this as a symbol of authority and rulership throughout Samuel’s life—and even after it.

The garment is introduced in 1 Samuel chapter 2 verse 19, where we learn that every year Samuel’s mother, Hannah, brings him a new meil woven by her own hands. The verse first points out that Samuel wore an “ephod”—an apronlike garment worn by the priests and Levites when they were serving at the Tabernacle. This is Samuel the Levite, the Prophet-to-be. But he is also Samuel the child, and his mother’s annual weaving of a “cloak” for him reminds us of both her sacrifice and the struggle that Samuel faced all his life: his dual identity as a hero and leader and a simple man plagued by his own doubts and fears.

In chapter 15, verse 27 Samuel’s childhood “cloak” has now become his robe of office. After the Prophet denounces Israel’s new king, Saul, Saul makes a desperate attempt to get Samuel to help him save face before the people. He grabs Samuel’s meil and, as Samuel walks away, tears it. Once again it appears as a symbol: the tearing of the cloak becomes the tearing away of royal authority from Saul. (We also get a glimpse of Samuel’s personality here in his wit at immediately turning this event into the basis for a poetic denunciation).

The next appearance of the cloak is in chapter 18 verse 4. Following David’s defeat of the giant Goliath, Saul’s firstborn son Jonathan (the crown prince of Israel) offers his meil to David. Once again it is a symbol of rulership. Jonathan’s bestowal demonstrates his willing transfer of his rights as crown prince to David.

Samuel and Saul’s estrangement in chapter 15 began with Samuel’s using a meil as a symbol of Saul’s rights as ruler. In chapter 19 verse 24 Saul comes in pursuit of David, chasing him to the School of the Prophets run by Samuel in Samuel’s hometown of Ramathaim. Samuel defends his School with supernatural power, and Saul strips himself naked and writhes on the ground for a day and a night, humiliated. This becomes the ultimate fulfillment of Samuel’s prophetic statement: Saul strips himself of his royal garments, or divests himself of his kingship.

In chapter 24, Saul is using his army to hunt David through the wilderness, determined to find the young man and kill him. But David has his own army, a gathering of malcontents whom he has welded into a deadly guerrilla army. While Saul “eases nature” in a cave, David sneaks up and cuts off the “skirt” of Saul’s meil. (1 Samuel 24:6) David almost immediately regrets the action. David’s remorse over his cutting off the skirt of Saul’s cloak is more understandable when we now see the meil as a symbol of kingship. David has here “cut away” the kingship without divine authorization.

In confronting Saul over the above incident, David now uses the scrap of cloth he had cut from Saul’s me’il as a symbol of his own power over Saul—yet another example of “he who has the cloak has the power.” (1 Samuel 24:12)

Saul, having chosen to take a firm stand against Jehovah’s anointed one, David, spirals toward his ultimate destruction. Earlier in his reign he had instigated a campaign against the spirit mediums, or witches, who were operating in Israel. Now, in a desperate attempt to learn what to do (since Jehovah will no longer answer him), Saul goes to the Witch of Endor (1 Samuel 28:8). This is the penultimate instance of clothing as a symbol of rulership. Just moments before learning of his own impending death and the final transfer of power to his enemy, David, Saul removes his clothing yet again in order to put on a disguise and avoid being recognized by one of the witches he had condemned. Just a few verses later (vs. 14), the “ghost” of Samuel supposedly appears. (Clearly this is not actually Samuel’s ghost—whether it is a malevolent spirit or simply the illusion of a clever hoaxer is a subject for another time). But “Samuel” is identified by—of course—his prophet’s meil.

Chapter 31 records Saul’s death at the Battle of Mount Gilboah. In verse 9 he is once again divested of his clothing, lying naked in his final defeat.

I do not believe that Samuel and Nathan manipulated the truth to include such interesting and complex metaphor. They developed this account in the way that every brilliant writer does—by finding and highlighting thematic elements that helped them to convey the subtext of their work. In upcoming posts, I will discuss further examples of their literary skill in putting together a story that has captivated readers for 3000 years and provided the basis for one of the greatest legends of all time.