An Acquired Taste

Teach me good [y]discernment and knowledge, for I believe in Your commandments. Psalm 119:66  NASB

Discernment – Do you like broccoli rabe?  How about onion ice cream?  Maybe something a bit more palatable like lambrusco?  Everyone’s tastes differ.  A lot of the time what we like is acquired through family recipes, traditions, cultural exposure, and just accident.  That’s the idea behind the Hebrew word ṭaʿam.  “The primary meaning of the root is ‘to try, or to evaluate, with the tongue, normally with a view to consumption if the flavor is suitable.’ Akkadian ṭēmu has a similar semantic range. A major difference between this verb and bîn is that bîn emphasizes understanding as well as decision making. bîn is also more comprehensive, including perception through all the senses.”[1]  In its primary sense, this verb is about eating and drinking.  Metaphorically it’s about what “tastes good” to our moral sensitivities.  And just like eating and drinking, it takes training (how to cook broccoli rabe) and practice (how to drink lambrusco).  “‘Good ‘judgment’ comes only from God’s commandments (Ps 119:66) and is in the sovereign control of God (Job 12:20).”[2]  That’s why the psalmist asks God to teach him what good taste is.

As we noted before, lāmad isn’t just about transferring information.  It’s about practical training.  “Try it.  You’ll like it.”  That’s the approach.  When the psalmist uses yādaʿ rather than bîn (discernment and knowledge), he pushes us to recall the Genesis story.  What Genesis story?  Oh, the one that involves discernment, that is, knowing what is good and what is evil—and not just knowing.  Training.  Application.  Practicing.  Doing the right thing over and over until it becomes an acquired taste.  Like properly cooking broccoli rabe.

Of course, you might ask, “Why should I go to all this trouble?  Why not just listen to my conscience?”  Do you like broccoli rabe?  “What?”  “Well, if you don’t like broccoli rabe, you might just avoid it because you had a bad experience once.  I’m suggesting that you let someone who knows how to cook it prepare it for you—and try it.”  “And why would I do that?  I don’t like broccoli rabe.”  “Ah, do you trust the person preparing it?”  “Well, yes, but . . .”  “Then trust them to do it right—and learn.”

“I believe in Your commandments” is the equivalent of saying, “I trust that You know what You’re doing, and so I’ll give it a try.”

How do you know the difference between good and evil?  Well, you don’t know!  And that’s the point.  Only God really knows, so trust Him and follow His instructions.  “Good ‘judgment’ comes only from God’s commandments.”  Listen to the chef!

Topical Index: taste, ṭaʿam, lāmad, teach, yādaʿ, bîn, good and evil, Psalm 119:66

[1] Alexander, R. H. (1999). 815 טָעַם. In R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament(electronic ed., p. 351). Moody Press.

[2] Ibid.

Subscribe
Notify of
1 Comment
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Richard Bridgan

“Listen to the chef!” Amen… and emet.

The savory quality of God’s goodness may be a taste necessary to be acquired, but delight comes when, as honey, “the dripping of the honeycomb is sweet to one’s taste”. Thereby also, one is made savory, even as salt “that is good”… “but if salt becomes tasteless, by what will it be made salty?”

Indeed, God’s goodness is both “piquantly pleasant to the mind”, and “morally exemplary”. Nevertheless, only by means of an effective “seasoning” of one’s “reasoning” through the Spirit is it made pleasing to one’s sense of taste.