HTCG 01b

We continue with Chapter 1, section A.

Part 3: Logical “Being” in Hebrew

Boman had previously mentioned the Hebrew noun clause that was often used in a place where we expect some kind of verb “to be”. The noun clause does a better job of portraying what exists than our western languages do with inactive verbs. In this part he drags readers off into a technical grammar discussion comparing western grammar with Hebrew, using all the obscure parts of speech terminology.

At any rate, Hebrew language won’t often bother with stating “X is Y” to indicate that one is the material or substance of the other (the predicate), but simply places the two terms together in such a way as to indicate something about the matter at hand. Boman doesn’t immediately discuss the way Hebrew is inherently symbolic first and foremost, painting an image with terms that have deep symbolism.

What he does point out is that western grammar follows the logic of wanting to consider first the form of the thing, and then the material, with those two things being separate considerations. For the Semites, the material is what matters most, because it determines the form. It would be entirely inappropriate, for example, to have an altar of wood shaped anything like an altar of stone. Common elements, yes, but the choice of one material or the other changes the shape and basic purpose. They cannot be used the same way. Separating the form and substance is simply not possible. The very meaning of the subject includes the materials. Do you notice how we can scarcely even describe the Hebrew manner of thinking in English?

It gets worse with a related noun clause form, consisting of tying to the subject a list of attributes that clarify, but still presumes a possession or sense of belonging between the noun and the predicates. Variations on the verb “to be” would be implied from our western perspective, but are not declared in the Hebrew because it misses the point in their thinking.

Part 4: The “Being” of the Verb hayah

At first glance, you would think the verb hayah is the missing “to be” we want to find in Hebrew. It’s complicated very quickly, and you may struggle to follow the discussion without familiarity with linguistics and the broad culture and civilization of the Ancient Near East. For now, think in terms of to be, to become, to produce an effect. Be warned that even this much is still rooted in our western psychological biases.

Boman cites four different ideas that we would distinguish, but which are all inherent in the how the word is used — (1) becoming in the sense of something passing from one condition to another; (2) becoming in a symbolic sense, a change in moral quality; (3) becoming in the sense of a vocation learned by someone; (4) becoming in the sense of changing the effects of the subject. The parenthetical translations that follow are simply approximations.

He then lists the way the thrust of the term hayah varies in the context of different prepositions. With hayah le (become something) the same four concepts in the previous paragraph become more intense, if you will — most emphatically not static — and the most common emphasis is the matter of effects. It’s inherent in the phrase itself.

For hayah ke (become like), it carries the connotation of becoming like something else, of appearing or serving as the other thing — as though. Again, it carries more drama than a simple statement of fact, particularly when used in the negative. If we find in a text hayah `al (being at) we find the implication of something heading toward the indicated condition, as in “It will be thus when it gets here.” It also portrays something will “act upon” another thing, all the more so if in response to an authoritative command. Yet again, there is seldom a precise translation possible.

With hayah be (being in) the emphasis is filled with personhood, most often referring to people. Even when used of ostensibly inanimate objects, it implies something with power and potential greater than normal. Boman notes that none of these prepositions changes the underlying meaning of hayah, but simply refines it. The same could be said of several more prepositions he lists but does not explain in detail.

While standard English translations often consider hayah as some form of “to be”, it rarely means that in any given context. For example, in Isaiah 51:6, God’s salvation doesn’t just exist in stasis, but shall endure rather like a living thing in itself. It will be there covering and prospering you dynamically in response to everything that comes your way. That’s all in hayah.

In conjunction with statements about time, hayah often portrays that what is now is quite different from what was at some time before. The world in Genesis 1 was previously chaotic and unformed; Nineveh was once a great city; Joseph was already in Egypt ahead of his brothers. In other contexts, it is purely stylistic as part of a formulary statement (like the genealogical tables). When you find hayah used in a comment about someone being fair or beautiful, it is meant to convey far more than just a pretty face. It’s someone who has a lot of charisma.

It goes on like this for several more pages. If you pair hayah with participle, it renders as a come-n-go repetition, but a passive participle shifts to an image of duration. In dependent clauses it means the thing will come to pass. It is not merely a subjective perception, though. It’s very real to the Hebrew mind, but lacks the nit-picking definition and distinctions of western thinking. In Hebrew thinking, the whole universe is alive and dynamic, and you must strive to keep finding your place in it.

For context where hayah refers to God, it’s nothing new on this blog. Boman affirms over several pages the basic teaching here that all you can say about God is what He requires of you. You are surely expected to know Him as a person, but He transcends even the symbolic statements about Him. Factual assertions about God have no meaning. It’s an ongoing story of interaction with Him and how He changes us.