Imaginative Exegesis

Now Sarai, Abram’s wife, had borne him no children.  But she had an Egyptian slave named Hagar;  Genesis 16:1  NIV

Hagar – Who was Hagar?  The question seems innocent enough until you consider Abraham’s relationship (or relations) with her.  That leads to the propensity to enhance her status and character in order to squelch what might be considered illicit sexual implications.  That seems to be the motive behind Chabad’s handling of Hagar.

You can start by reading this (it will only take a minute):

According to this interpretation, Hagar is 1) an Egyptian princess, 2) is comfortable with angelic beings, 3) taunts Sarah, 4) has an unruly son, 5) was Abraham’s wife after Sarah died.  Chabad paints a rather glowing picture of Hagar, perhaps to save Abraham’s reputation.  What’s interesting is that almost none of this is based on the Torah.  Let’s consider the text.  Hagar is introduced into the story by the designation šipḥâ.  TWOT notes:

The šipḥâ “maid,” was a slave who could be given as a gift to a daughter when she married (Gen 29:24, 29). Pharaoh presented Abraham with gifts, including maidservants. Though the word seems to have had a wider use in the sense of “female slave” generally, those who are mentioned as individuals in the Old Testament are personal maids-in-waiting to a married woman. According to Nuzi law, a sterile wife could give her maid to her husband so that she might vicariously bear a child through her (Gen 16:2ff; 30:3–4). A boy born of such a union would become the heir unless the wife herself later bore a son.[1]

The conjecture that Hagar was an Egyptian princess has no support in the text, but that doesn’t mean the rabbis couldn’t imagine a more suited genealogy.  Don’t be too dismayed.  Christian tradition does the same thing with amplifications (and corrections) to the lives of David, Solomon, and Jesus.  Apparently it’s a human necessity to fill in the blanks and enhance the reputation.  Sticking to the text often leaves us feeling frustrated.  We want the whole story—something the Bible rarely provides.  Have you ever wondered why?  Since biblical heroes and heroines are so important to our understanding of the relationship between God and men or women, why is the text so sparce?  Perhaps it’s to allow imaginative exegesis, something that I think tells us more about ourselves than about the characters in the Bible.  I wonder how much of our own concerns and hopes are projected into these additions.  Why don’t you ask Ruth?

Topical Index:  Chabad, Hagar, exegesis, šipḥâ, maid, slave, Genesis 16:1

[1] Austel, H. J. (1999). 2442 שׁפח. R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (electronic ed., p. 947). Chicago: Moody Press.

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Richard Bridgan

Regardless of any necessity to recognize the human element in the testimony of Scripture, the bottom line is ultimately this: Is Yeshua of Nazareth—as presented to us in the testimony of Scripture—also “an allowance of imaginitive exegesis”? Indeed—how much of our own concerns and hopes are projected into these “additions”? And how then do they work to provide us with a testimony of truth concerning God’s self-revelation to mankind through the core testimony of witness of Israel? These questions don’t serve to dissuade my faith in the God of Israel who is present to Israel as presented through Israel’s testimony; but I suppose there may be those find such sense of “imaginitive exegesis” altogether dissuasive.

…And then there’s the question of theological application.

Richard Bridgan

Because the modes of mediation within the cult— (that is to say, the community of Israel’s prescribed religious worship and ritual, authorized and legitimated by Yahweh)— are concrete human enterprises in actual human practice, they are human enterprises that depend on human courage, passion, and fidelity.

Torah, for example, can take on an ideological intensity (which it often does under Rabbinic interpretation and application) such that it threatens to jeopardize the character of Israel’s testimony by its legalistic insistence on the one hand, and its interpretive imagination on the other.

Nevertheless, (it is my opinion) such concrete human involvement neither invalidates nor makes ineffective Yahweh’s choice to employ concrete human enterprise, “borne along” by the Spirit of Yahweh (theopneustos), such that the truth of reality is actually conveyed by means of such concrete human actions and activities.

The challenge is determining precisely how these modes of mediation of Yahweh’s reality/presence are to be applied, and what is the overall framework (of Yahweh’s mediation), both within the cult and within the world.

(Yet again, in my opinion), Yeshua Ha Mashiach is that frame and final objective of both concrete human mediatory enterprise and the fullness of actual human practice.