Chapter 3: Time and Space
Section B: The Israelite Conception of Time
Part 2: Psychic Time
Subpart f: Contemporaneity
Boman mentions Kierkegaard’s writing about taking faith and jumping across the ages to experience Christ and His life as if we were there in person. We can do this only by faith as a gift from above, not by any act of human will. This is not a new idea on this blog. I have long said that the whole thrust of Hebrew writing is to breathe life into the narrative, to generate a sense of the drama and experience of the event first person.
This seems to point out the Hebrews as uniquely capable of presenting the gospel message. This is how God wants to communicate, by putting us in the place of those who really needed Jesus when He was here. Boman mentions another scholar who tries to explain things in terms how Hebrews could participate in a corporate personality, placing themselves in the moment their ancestor experienced things.
The paradox here should be obvious. Only a few pages back, Boman noted that we cannot be in two moments at the same time, according to the western logic of time and space. Yet, it is quite possible to narrate a situation from the past with enough parallels to cause the unaware listener to believe it’s contemporary. Fiery political rhetoric from past decades or even centuries can sound like something we have heard just recently.
That’s because some things never change; political manipulation is drawn from the same tricks used by oppressors throughout history. Still, it’s almost funny how we strive to grasp how the Hebrews consciously handle their past in terms of morals and faith, but oddly westerners find themselves in the same frame of reference unconsciously for mere rhetoric.
Subpart g: Before and After
Boman points out that the Indo-European languages are quite backwards from the Hebrew when it comes to reckoning our place in time. For the Hebrews, the view to the front is the past. It lies open, in clear view. The future is behind our back, out of view. We cannot see it. Thus, when Hebrew Scriptures (Jeremiah 29:11; Proverbs 24:14) talk about promises for tomorrow, the words for “tomorrow” are always referring to what’s behind us. They don’t think of it as moving at all, much less moving backwards. It’s not a matter of “where” we are or where we are going, but the moral demands upon us.
If anything, we are taking our stand of faith and the future catches up to us. The predecessors came before and stand in our site. Our ancestors will follow us. It’s not spatial reckoning, but psychic reckoning.
Subpart h: The Verbal Origin of the Concept of Time
If you were to chase down the etymology of the words in both Hebrew and various European languages, you’ll find a subtle distinction. The latter developed spatial awareness before they began talking much about time. For the Hebrew, it was generally simultaneous, and still remains more primitive for both time and space reckoning.
Hebrew thought in general is dynamic, as previously noted. This contributes to the difficulty, the lack of definitive answers about how they developed the various suffixes and prefixes and classes of verbs and word forms in general. I note that recent scholarship prefers to work under the assumption of very simple root words consisting of just two or three consonants. Either way, it is well established that Hebrew verbs are all about time, not location.
Subpart i: Endless Time
It’s very easy to understand that Platonic notions of “eternity” rest entirely on the notion of time-without-end — a spatial concept. There simply is no Hebrew equivalent. Boman doesn’t say so, but the entire ANE never felt competent to discuss eternity very much; all of their comments about eternity relate to our duties here and now. We must be very careful to avoid the “boundless time/space” imagery when discussing Hebrew literature.
When you see English translations of Hebrew Scripture mention “eternity”, the most common word behind it is `olam. Best guess for now is that it derives from `alam — hide, conceal. Thus, we believe `olam points to “over the horizon”, and in both directions (“everlasting to everlasting”). The point is not “endless” but that the boundaries are unknown (and unknowable).
In some cases, the word simply means for the rest of one’s life. In all cases, it refers to that time beyond the horizon of those in any given context. It’s personal, as always. Thus, the prosperous wicked believe they will always prosper, and the faithful agree that it does seem to carry on way too long, because they have no idea when God will judge them — that’s `olam, too.
The other two Hebrew words for eternity are used about the same way. Boman complains that the Hebrews were amused by repeating words over and over in a narrative. They would use the same root word repeatedly in a single statement, delighting in the various forms of the word crammed together in a single line. What Boman doesn’t mention is that the Hebrew senses of humor with the use of very similar sounding words comes from this (Hebrew version of puns).
In summary, Boman hints at something I wish he could have said more bluntly: For westerners, the spatial reference is rather static. Time and events are there, existing independently. For the Hebrew, if you didn’t experience it, and could not connect it to your communal identity, then it might as well not exist. That is, you didn’t have to deal with it.
