Brook Ends

May the stars of its twilight be darkened; may it wait for light but have none, and may it not see the ^[e]breaking dawn; because it did not shut the opening of my mother’s womb, or hide trouble from my eyes.  Job 3:9-10  NASB

Breaking dawn – What biblical story comes to mind when you read בְּעַפְעַפֵּי־שָֽׁחַר.  Oh, let’s try it like this:  ‘ăp̄ʿăppă’yim šăḥăr.  Did you notice that it is combination of words.  ʿapʿap (eyelid), ăppă’yim (long of anger), šăḥăr(dawn).  But šăḥăr is much more than the moment of the sun’s rising.

Start with ‘ăp̄ʿăppă’yim.  Do you remember God’s self-description before Moses?  “Slow to anger” (Exodus 34:7) is ʾerek ʾappayim.  Literally, “long nostril,” that is, breathing slowly, a sign of displacing anger.  ʾerek is the word for “slow” or “long.”  ʾappayim is the description of the face, in this phrase, the nostril.  But now we have ‘ăp̄ and ăppă’yim.  ʿapʿap is “eyelid.”  The derivatives are from the verb ʿûp, to fly, fly away.  Perhaps the association is with the open eye, and in this case, the “breaking” of the eyes as they open to the light.  No matter how we attempt to explain the details of this Hebrew idiom, we must be struck by the fact that it is clearly associated with the face, and that reminds us of something else, the “light” that existed before the creation of the sun and the moon, the light of God’s face over His creation.

What of šăḥăr?  Well, the obvious allusion is to the dawn.  Light breaking upon the world once more.  But šăḥăr also reminds us of another story—the crossing of the brook.  Do you remember this?  “Then the man said, ‘Let me go, for it is daybreak’” (Genesis 32:26).  Why would such a foe be concerned about the dawn?  That question led to a book on the matter (Crossing: the Struggle for Identity).  Hamilton comments:

A masculine noun generally denoting the breaking of the day, that time just prior to sunrise. Some have taken a clue from the Ras Shamra texts in which šḥr refers both to the common noun “dawn” and to the name of a deity, Dawn. Šaḥar, along with šalim, is born to a woman who has been impregnated by the god El (UT 16: Text no. 52). The suggestion is then that there are (veiled) references to this Canaanite deity in the ot, albeit in a demythologized fashion.

It is of interest to observe the verbs with which šaḥar is used. Most frequent is the verb ʿālâ “to ascend, rise.” Cf. Gen 19:15, “When the morning arose/when the dawn broke” (also Gen 32:24, 26 [H 25, 27]; Josh 6:15; Jud 19:25; I Sam 9:26; Jon 4:7; Neh 4:21 [H 15]). Another is ʿûr “to awaken” (Ps 57:8 [H 9]; 108:2 [H 3]). Should these two verses, which are the same in parallel Pss, be translated “I shall awake in the morning” or “I shall awaken the dawn” or “I shall awaken Shahar”? Cf. Job 38:12, dawn (šaḥar) is given a daily assignment by God, though it would appear obvious that this is a case of poetic license. We may assume the same license in operation when the Psalmist (139:9) muses about riding on the wings of the dawn, or in those references to the dawn’s eyelids: Job 3:9; 41:18 [H 10], Steadman).

The crux interpretum is Isa 14:12, “How you are fallen from heaven Lucifer (son of the morning, hêlēl ben šaḥar).” That the passage occurs in the context of a satire on the king of Babylon no one will deny. Yet many Christians have taken this verse (KJV along with perhaps Ezk 28), and on the basis of verses such as Lk 10:18; I Tim 3:6, have assumed that here is something on Satan’s origin, especially his expulsion from heaven subsequent to his pompous display of arrogance. The New Bible Commentary (rev. ed., p. 600) calls such exegesis “a precarious conjecture.” And E. J. Young can say flatly (p. 441), “It cannot apply to Satan.” Among evangelicals Archer (WBC, p. 622) is the most open to a supernatural, cosmic interpretation. We feel safest with the application of the phrase to the Babylonian tyrant whose gross pride provided fuel for the prophet’s invective.^[1]

What can we conclude about these words in the verse in Job?  We could read the passage as nothing more than the mention of daybreak.  In that case, Job is simply wishing that the day of his birth would not have occurred.  But there might be more—a lot more.  The choice of the words used to describe this part of his self-curse leads us back to the creation, and from the creation to the story of one of the Patriarchs, in particular the Patriarch who propagated the Twelve Tribes and whose encounter with a mysterious “man” gave him the name Israel.  Does Job’s curse lead us to two ontological stages; the first of creation itself and the second of the beginnings of Israel?  If the story of Job is late, if it is an attempt to wrestle with the horrors of the Captivity, then perhaps the choice of terms pushes us toward two crucial questions.  First, why would this God, YHVH, bring into existence humanity only to have it suffer so much; and second, why would this same God bring about the formation of a special people, Israel, only to have them suffer?  The story of Job wrestles with both of these applications, and because it comes to grips with the depth of sorrow and suffering, it must begin by addressing the most fundamental question of creation: Why is there anything at all?  Would it not have been better not to create rather than create and bring all this sorrow along with it?

To find the answers we must travel across the brook from both ends.

Topical Index: ‘ăp̄ʿăppă’yim, breaking, šăḥăr, dawn, mythology, ontology, Job 3:9-10

UT C.H. Gordon, Ugaritic Textbook, 1965 (Grammar cited by chapter and section; texts cited by chap (16) and no. of line. Glossary cited by chap (19) and no. of word)

WBC Wycliffe Bible Commentary, ed., C. Pfeiffer and E. Harrison, 1962

^[1] Hamilton, V. P. (1999). 2369 שָׁחַר. In R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament(electronic ed., p. 917). Moody Press.