This post is based on the podcast episode with Gary Rendsburg about his book How The Bible Is Written. The post was generated by AI but edited by a human.
What if some of the most confusing passages in the Hebrew Bible were written that way deliberately?
What if an unusual grammatical construction was not a mistake, but a literary technique?
And what if the biblical authors were doing things with language that most readers today never notice because their artistry disappears in translation?
These questions are at the center of my conversation with Professor Gary A. Rendsburg about his book How the Bible Is Written.
Rendsburg argues that the authors of the Hebrew Bible were extraordinarily sophisticated literary artists.
They used rare vocabulary, alliteration, double meanings, dialect switching, grammatical irregularities, and subtle references to neighboring languages to shape how their audiences understood biblical stories.
Many of these techniques are difficult to reproduce in English.
Some are nearly impossible to recognize without studying the original Hebrew.
In our conversation, Rendsburg explores examples from Genesis, Judges, Samuel, Job, and Proverbs.
He also discusses a larger question: when were these narratives composed, and what kinds of scribal communities might have produced them?
His answers offer a distinctive way of approaching biblical literature—one that places the artistry of the Hebrew language at the center of interpretation.
When Was the Hebrew Bible Written?
One of the first questions I asked Rendsburg concerned the dating of the biblical narratives.
In How the Bible Is Written, he argues that many of the familiar narratives in Genesis, Judges, and Samuel may have been composed during the tenth century BCE.
This was the period traditionally associated with the reigns of David and Solomon.
Rendsburg sees this era as a turning point in ancient Israel's political and cultural history.
According to the biblical narrative, Israel moved from a loose association of tribes toward centralized monarchy.
Saul emerged as the first king, but Rendsburg describes his reign as transitional.
David subsequently established Jerusalem as his capital, and Solomon inherited a kingdom with more developed institutions.
In Rendsburg's reconstruction, the establishment of a monarchy created a new demand for a shared national story.
Different Israelite groups may have preserved different memories, traditions, and accounts of their origins.
A developing kingdom needed narratives capable of connecting those traditions into a common identity.
Rendsburg proposes that royal scribes helped create or shape two broad bodies of literature.
One concerned the recent history of Samuel, Saul, David, and Solomon.
The other concerned Israel's distant past, including the patriarchal narratives in Genesis.
He argues that shared vocabulary, themes, and literary motifs between Genesis and Samuel suggest that these works emerged from a closely connected scribal environment.
This is an important scholarly hypothesis, but it is not the dominant consensus on the composition of the Pentateuch.
Many biblical scholars date significant stages of the Torah's composition and editing to later centuries, including the monarchic, exilic, and postexilic periods.
Rendsburg's proposal should therefore be understood as a particular interpretation of the linguistic and literary evidence.
Could Ancient Israelites Write in the Tenth Century BCE?
One challenge to early dating concerns literacy.
How widespread was writing in ancient Israel during the tenth century BCE?
Rendsburg acknowledges that this question has been central to debates about when substantial biblical literature could have been produced.
He points to early alphabetic inscriptions and other archaeological discoveries as evidence that writing existed in the region during the relevant period.
In the interview, he mentions inscriptions associated with sites including Izbet Sartah, Tel Zayit, Khirbet Qeiyafa, and Jerusalem.
These discoveries have expanded discussions about literacy in the early Iron Age.
But the existence of inscriptions does not, by itself, establish that lengthy biblical narratives were composed at the same time.
Rendsburg makes another argument.
A society does not need widespread literacy to develop sophisticated literature.
Only a limited number of people need to possess the technical ability to write.
Stories can be composed, performed, memorized, and appreciated by audiences who do not themselves read.
In his view, professional scribes could have written down literary traditions that circulated orally.
The result could have been sophisticated written literature intended primarily for public performance.
Was the Bible Originally Meant to Be Heard?
This was one of the most interesting parts of our conversation.
Modern readers usually encounter the Bible silently.
We open a printed book or digital text and read the words privately.
But ancient audiences often experienced literature very differently.
Rendsburg emphasizes what he calls the oral-aural process.
Oral refers to speaking.
Aural refers to hearing.
A text could be read aloud by one person while a larger audience listened.
The reader might use intonation, expression, gestures, and other techniques to communicate the narrative.
Rendsburg compares the experience to attending a theatrical performance.
The audience did not necessarily need its own copy of the text.
It heard the words.
This matters because biblical Hebrew contains literary techniques designed to be recognized through sound.
Alliteration, repetition, wordplay, and shifts in language could create effects that listeners noticed immediately.
Rendsburg points to the Hebrew verb qara, which can mean both “to call” and “to read.”
He connects this to the broader ancient practice of vocalized reading and recitation.
He also compares it with the Arabic term Qur'an, associated with recitation.
His larger point is that we should not approach biblical literature exclusively as silent readers.
The biblical text was also something people heard.
And some of its artistry may become more apparent when it is spoken aloud.
The Different Dialects of Biblical Hebrew
Another important aspect of Rendsburg's work concerns linguistic variation.
Modern English speakers recognize differences between regional dialects.
Vocabulary, pronunciation, and grammar can vary even among people who understand one another perfectly.
Rendsburg argues that ancient Hebrew also exhibited regional variation.
He distinguishes between the standard biblical Hebrew associated with Judah and Jerusalem and linguistic features he identifies with northern Israel.
He calls the latter Israelian Hebrew.
In his analysis, some biblical passages preserve characteristics associated with northern speech.
He points especially to narratives involving northern figures in Judges and to material about the northern kingdom in Kings.
The book of Kings itself refers to separate royal annals associated with Judah and Israel.
Rendsburg suggests that differences in vocabulary and grammatical structure may reflect the incorporation of traditions or records from distinct regions.
This is a linguistic argument, not simply a conclusion drawn from where a story takes place.
A narrative set in the north does not automatically have to have been written there.
That distinction becomes especially important when Rendsburg discusses a separate technique: style switching.
What Is Style Switching in the Bible?
Style switching occurs when an author deliberately adopts linguistic features associated with another place or group.
Rendsburg compares this to Shakespeare writing dialogue for characters with different regional backgrounds.
The author remains the same, but the language changes to suit the setting.
He identifies examples in Genesis.
In Genesis 24, Abraham's servant travels to Aram to find a wife for Isaac.
There he encounters Rebekah.
Later, Jacob travels to Aram and lives with Laban, marrying Leah and Rachel.
Rendsburg argues that these narratives contain words and expressions that resemble Aramaic more closely than ordinary biblical Hebrew.
The effect is to create a linguistic atmosphere appropriate to the setting.
He also discusses the Balaam narratives in Numbers.
Balaam is associated with a world beyond Israel, and Rendsburg identifies language that he interprets as reflecting that cultural background.
These are not necessarily texts originally written in Aram.
Instead, Rendsburg argues that biblical authors could intentionally introduce regional language to make their stories more vivid.
The distinction is similar to the difference between a text written by a northern speaker and a southern author deliberately imitating northern speech.
Were Biblical Authors Showing Off Their Literary Skill?
At one point, I asked Rendsburg whether some biblical authors were deliberately displaying their command of language.
His answer was emphatic.
Yes.
He argues that biblical writers sometimes used unusually rare vocabulary because it allowed them to achieve a particular literary effect.
One category of rare vocabulary is known as hapax legomena.
A hapax legomenon is a word that appears only once in a particular body of literature.
The Hebrew Bible contains many such words.
Some are difficult to interpret because there are no other biblical examples against which to compare them.
Scholars sometimes use related languages such as Aramaic, Arabic, and Akkadian to investigate their meanings.
Rendsburg argues that the use of rare vocabulary can be deliberate.
An author might select an unusual word because its sound creates alliteration or because it carries a meaning unavailable through more familiar vocabulary.
In such cases, rarity itself becomes part of the literary artistry.
Why Is the Hebrew of Job So Difficult?
The book of Job provides one of Rendsburg's strongest examples.
Job contains unusually difficult vocabulary and sophisticated poetic language.
Its author uses rare words, unusual constructions, and expressions whose meanings sometimes remain uncertain.
Rendsburg suggests that this difficulty is not accidental.
Job explores some of the most challenging questions in religious literature.
Why do righteous people suffer?
How should human beings understand suffering and divine justice?
What can people know about the workings of the universe?
Rendsburg argues that the difficult language suits the difficult subject.
The literary form reinforces the content.
He discusses the work of scholars including Ed Greenstein, whose research on Job examines the book's distinctive language. Ed is a former guess of the podcast - you can check out his episode here.
For Rendsburg, Job demonstrates that biblical authors could use linguistic complexity to shape a reader's or listener's emotional experience.
The language itself becomes part of the struggle.
The First Words of Genesis: A Grammatical Surprise
One of the most striking examples in our conversation comes from the opening verse of the Bible.
Genesis 1:1 begins with the Hebrew words bereshit bara.
The phrase is traditionally translated, “In the beginning God created.”
But Rendsburg draws attention to the grammatical relationship between the words.
He interprets bereshit as a construct form, meaning something like “in the beginning of.”
Normally, a construct noun is followed by another noun or an appropriate nominal expression.
Yet the next word, bara, is a finite verb meaning “created.”
Rendsburg sees this as a deliberate grammatical surprise.
The opening words of the Bible immediately challenge the listener's expectations.
He argues that this signals the literary sophistication of the text.
Rather than automatically correcting the apparent irregularity, readers should consider why the author might have chosen it.
The grammar of Genesis 1:1 has been debated for centuries, and scholars differ over how best to parse and translate the verse.
Rendsburg's literary interpretation is one approach within that wider discussion.
His central methodological point is that difficult language should not always be treated as an error requiring correction.
Sometimes the difficulty may be meaningful.
Why Does Genesis Say “Greater Light” and “Lesser Light”?
Rendsburg also discusses what he calls the demythologizing of the creation narrative.
Genesis 1 describes the creation of the sun and moon without using their ordinary Hebrew names.
Instead, Genesis 1:16 refers to the greater light and the lesser light.
Why?
Rendsburg connects this wording to the religious environment of the ancient Near East.
Words associated with the sun and moon could also be associated with divine figures in neighboring religious traditions.
The biblical author, he argues, avoids terminology that might evoke those deities.
The sun and moon are not presented as independent divine beings.
They are created objects within a universe governed by Israel's God.
Rendsburg identifies a similar possibility in the naming of the seas.
In Ugaritic mythology, Yamm is associated with the sea deity who appears in the Baal Cycle.
Rendsburg suggests that Genesis's use of the plural yamim, “seas,” avoids directly invoking the divine name.
These examples illustrate how ordinary vocabulary can carry religious significance.
The choice of a word may communicate a theological position.
The precise reasons for each lexical choice remain interpretive questions, but Rendsburg's approach draws attention to the relationship between language and ancient Near Eastern religion.
Why Doesn't Genesis Call the Seventh Day “Shabbat”?
Rendsburg extends this argument to the seventh day of creation.
Genesis 2:2–3 describes God resting on the seventh day.
The Hebrew verb related to resting or ceasing is used.
But the noun Shabbat is not used to name the day in that passage.
Rendsburg follows a suggestion associated with his teacher Cyrus Gordon, connecting this avoidance with ancient planetary terminology.
He proposes that the terminology surrounding the seventh day and Saturn could have carried religious associations that the biblical author wished to avoid.
This is a speculative interpretation.
The historical relationship between the Sabbath, planetary names, and later naming traditions is complex, and the proposed explanation should not be treated as established fact.
Nevertheless, it fits Rendsburg's broader argument.
Biblical authors were attentive not only to what words meant, but also to what associations those words might evoke.
Does “Ezer Kenegdo” Really Mean “Helper”?
One of the most provocative examples in the episode concerns the creation of the woman in Genesis 2.
Genesis 2:18 describes the creation of an ezer kenegdo for the man.
The phrase is commonly translated as “a helper suitable for him” or “a helper corresponding to him.”
Rendsburg discusses a different interpretation associated with Hebrew scholar Ze'ev Ben-Hayyim.
The traditional reading understands ezer as “help” or “helper.”
Ben-Hayyim proposed a connection with an Arabic word associated with a woman or virgin.
On that interpretation, ezer might be understood as a term for a woman rather than as a helper.
Rendsburg favors this proposal and suggests that the phrase presents the woman as a corresponding or equal partner.
He also argues that its sounds contribute to an alliterative relationship with the surrounding description of the Garden of Eden.
This is an especially interesting example because the interpretation affects both the meaning of the verse and its literary effect.
However, the proposed Arabic cognate is not the standard scholarly explanation of ezer in Genesis 2:18.
The conventional Hebrew meaning “help” remains well established, and the phrase kenegdo itself is central to discussions of correspondence and equality.
The episode therefore provides an opportunity to explore a provocative alternative reading without presenting it as a settled translation.
How Biblical Authors Used Confused Language
Another literary technique Rendsburg discusses is the deliberate use of confusion.
Modern writers often alter sentence structure to convey excitement, anxiety, or disorientation.
A character's speech may become rushed.
A narrative may become fragmented.
The language itself can reflect the emotional state of the scene.
Rendsburg argues that biblical authors sometimes employed comparable techniques.
He offers two examples from the life of Saul.
The Excited Young Women in 1 Samuel 9
In 1 Samuel 9, Saul and his servant are searching for lost donkeys.
They encounter young women near a city where the prophet Samuel is staying.
Rendsburg draws attention to the women's rapid and crowded speech.
He interprets the passage as deliberately conveying excitement.
The women encounter Saul, who is described elsewhere as exceptionally tall and physically impressive.
Their words tumble together.
Rather than seeing the unusual rhythm as clumsy writing, Rendsburg hears the effect of animated conversation.
The biblical author creates a scene that audiences could almost hear being performed.
Saul's Armor and David in 1 Samuel 17
The second example comes from the familiar story of David and Goliath.
Before David confronts the Philistine champion, Saul attempts to equip him with armor.
Rendsburg points to the Hebrew of 1 Samuel 17:38.
He identifies an unexpected verbal form in the description of Saul placing a bronze helmet on David.
He also argues that the sequence of equipping David is unusual.
In his interpretation, these features contribute to the portrayal of Saul as a king who is increasingly unable to perform even relatively straightforward tasks.
The grammatical irregularity becomes part of the characterization.
This is Rendsburg's literary reading rather than a universally accepted explanation of the verse.
But it illustrates his larger approach.
Instead of automatically assuming that an unexpected form is a scribal error, he asks whether the language serves a narrative purpose.
The Tragedy of King Saul
Our discussion of these passages led to a broader reflection on Saul as a literary character.
Saul begins as an impressive figure.
He is physically distinguished and chosen for kingship.
But his story becomes increasingly tragic.
His relationship with Samuel deteriorates.
His authority weakens.
His rivalry with David grows.
And his life ends in defeat on Mount Gilboa.
Rendsburg emphasizes that readers should not focus exclusively on David.
The story of Saul deserves attention in its own right.
The author of Samuel creates a character whose decline is emotionally powerful.
Rendsburg's interpretation of the language in the armor scene is part of that larger portrayal.
The biblical narrative does not simply tell us that Saul is failing.
It may also communicate his disintegration through the way individual scenes are written.
Job 7:6 — Does Tikvah Mean “Hope” or “Thread”?
One of my favorite examples from the interview concerns Job 7:6.
The verse compares the passing of human life to the movement of a weaver's shuttle.
It ends with the Hebrew word tikvah.
Most readers recognize tikvah as “hope.”
It is the word found in the title of Israel's national anthem, Hatikvah.
But Rendsburg points out that the Hebrew word can also refer to a cord or thread.
That meaning appears in Joshua 2, where Rahab identifies her house using a scarlet cord.
The imagery in Job is therefore particularly rich.
A weaver's shuttle moves quickly.
The thread eventually runs out.
And human life passes rapidly, seemingly ending without hope.
Rendsburg argues that the author is using both meanings simultaneously.
The word evokes the end of a thread and the absence of hope.
This is an example of polysemy: a word carrying multiple meanings.
In this interpretation, the reader does not need to choose between “hope” and “thread.”
Both contribute to the verse.
The result is a literary effect that is difficult to reproduce in English translation.
Proverbs 31 and a Possible Hebrew-Greek Pun
The final example in our conversation concerns Proverbs 31 and the poem traditionally known as Eshet Chayil, or “Woman of Valor.”
The poem praises the capable and industrious woman.
It is structured as an alphabetic acrostic, with successive verses beginning with successive letters of the Hebrew alphabet.
In Proverbs 31:27, the Hebrew describes the woman watching over the affairs of her household.
Rendsburg draws attention to the unusual form tsofiyyah.
He discusses a proposal associated with scholar Al Wolters that connects its sound with the Greek word sophia, meaning “wisdom.”
If the resemblance was intentional, the verse would contain a bilingual wordplay.
The woman watches over her household, while the sound of the word evokes wisdom.
The interpretation is intriguing because wisdom is a major theme throughout Proverbs.
But the proposed Hebrew-Greek pun is debated.
Its plausibility depends partly on questions of dating, cultural contact, and whether the intended audience would have recognized the Greek term.
It is best understood as a proposed literary interpretation rather than an established feature of the original poem.
A Circle of Ancient Israelite Writers?
Near the middle of our conversation, I asked Rendsburg whether he imagined one extraordinary biblical author or a group of writers working together.
He favored the second possibility.
He compared the biblical scribes to literary circles from later history.
Shakespeare did not work in isolation.
He was part of a world that included Christopher Marlowe and Ben Jonson.
Writers influenced one another, borrowed language, responded to earlier works, and developed ideas within a shared cultural environment.
Rendsburg also invoked the literary circles of nineteenth-century New England.
He imagines something similar among the scribes associated with Jerusalem.
A relatively small group of educated writers could have shared techniques, vocabulary, and literary motifs.
This might help explain similarities between Genesis and Samuel.
But the analogy remains hypothetical.
We do not possess direct evidence identifying such a tenth-century scribal circle or demonstrating that particular biblical books were composed within it.
Rendsburg's argument is that the literary patterns make such a reconstruction plausible.
Why the Hebrew Bible Is More Than Its Translation
The larger lesson from this conversation is that translation can conceal as much as it reveals.
An English translation can communicate the narrative.
It can convey theological ideas.
It can preserve much of the poetry and emotional force.
But it cannot always reproduce the sounds, ambiguities, and grammatical expectations of the original language.
A Hebrew word may carry two meanings that no single English word can capture.
A phrase may alliterate with another phrase several lines away.
A grammatical irregularity may produce an effect recognizable to an ancient audience but invisible to a modern reader.
Rendsburg's work encourages us to approach these passages with greater literary curiosity.
Not every difficulty is necessarily intentional.
Some may reflect textual transmission, linguistic change, or editorial history.
But neither should every difficult passage be dismissed as poor writing.
The biblical authors were capable of sophisticated literary expression.
And careful attention to their language can reveal dimensions of the text that are otherwise easy to miss.
Conclusion: How the Bible Was Written
The Hebrew Bible has been studied for thousands of years.
Its stories have shaped religious traditions, literature, art, and political thought across the world.
But much of its original literary artistry remains hidden from readers who encounter it only in translation.
Professor Gary Rendsburg's How the Bible Is Written invites us to reconsider the biblical text as a work of remarkable linguistic sophistication.
From the opening words of Genesis to the poetry of Job and Proverbs, he identifies techniques that demonstrate the creative possibilities of biblical Hebrew.
Some of his proposals are widely recognizable literary observations.
Others are more speculative and remain subjects of scholarly debate.
Together, they illustrate how much can be gained by paying attention to the language itself.
The Bible's authors were not simply recording stories.
They were shaping how those stories would be heard, remembered, and understood.
And sometimes the smallest word can reveal the greatest artistry.
How the Bible Was Written: Frequently Asked Questions
1. Who wrote the Hebrew Bible?
The Hebrew Bible is a collection of works composed, transmitted, and edited by multiple authors and scribes over an extended period. The identities of most individual authors are unknown.
2. When was the Hebrew Bible written?
Its books and traditions developed across different historical periods. Gary Rendsburg argues that some familiar narratives may date to the tenth century BCE, while many scholars place substantial composition and editing in later centuries.
3. Who is Gary A. Rendsburg?
Gary A. Rendsburg is a scholar of biblical Hebrew, ancient Israel, and the literary features of the Hebrew Bible. He is the author of How the Bible Is Written.
4. What is How the Bible Is Written about?
The book examines the literary techniques of biblical authors, including wordplay, alliteration, unusual grammar, rare vocabulary, dialect variation, and the relationship between language and meaning.
5. Was the Hebrew Bible originally read aloud?
Ancient literature was frequently experienced through oral performance and public reading. Rendsburg emphasizes that many biblical literary techniques would have been particularly effective when heard.
6. What is biblical Hebrew wordplay?
Biblical Hebrew wordplay involves exploiting similarities in sound, multiple meanings, or relationships between words to create literary effects.
7. What is a hapax legomenon?
A hapax legomenon is a word that occurs only once within a particular body of literature. Such words can be difficult to interpret because there are no other occurrences for comparison.
8. Why is the Hebrew of Job so difficult?
Job contains extensive poetic language, rare vocabulary, and unusual constructions. Rendsburg argues that its linguistic complexity helps reflect the difficult questions of suffering and divine justice explored in the book.
9. What is unusual about Genesis 1:1 in Hebrew?
Rendsburg interprets the opening phrase bereshit bara as a deliberately surprising grammatical construction. The verse's grammar and translation remain subjects of scholarly debate.
10. Why does Genesis call the sun and moon the greater and lesser lights?
Rendsburg argues that the wording avoids terminology associated with divine beings in neighboring ancient Near Eastern religions, emphasizing that the sun and moon are created objects.
11. What is demythologizing in the Bible?
Demythologizing refers to the removal or transformation of mythological concepts. Rendsburg uses the term to describe how Genesis presents features of the natural world without treating them as independent deities.
12. Why is the seventh day not called Shabbat in Genesis 2?
Genesis 2:2–3 describes God resting on the seventh day without using the noun Shabbat. Rendsburg discusses a speculative explanation involving ancient planetary terminology.
13. What does ezer kenegdo mean?
The phrase in Genesis 2:18 is commonly translated as “a helper corresponding to him” or similar wording. Rendsburg discusses an alternative interpretation connecting ezer with an Arabic word associated with a woman, but this is not the standard scholarly reading.
14. What is Israelian Hebrew?
Israelian Hebrew is a term Rendsburg uses for linguistic features he associates with northern Israel, in contrast to the standard biblical Hebrew associated with Judah.
15. What is style switching in biblical literature?
Style switching is the deliberate use of vocabulary or linguistic features associated with another region or culture to suit the setting or characters of a narrative.
16. How does Rendsburg interpret the young women in 1 Samuel 9?
He argues that their crowded speech conveys excitement when they encounter Saul, using the rhythm and structure of language to create a dramatic effect.
17. Why is Saul's armor scene in 1 Samuel 17 unusual?
Rendsburg identifies an unexpected Hebrew verbal form and an unusual sequence in the description of Saul equipping David. He interprets these features as contributing to Saul's characterization.
18. What does tikvah mean in Job 7:6?
The Hebrew word tikvah can mean “hope” and can also refer to a cord or thread. Rendsburg argues that Job 7:6 exploits both meanings in its comparison of life to weaving.
19. What is the significance of tsofiyyah in Proverbs 31:27?
Rendsburg discusses a proposed bilingual pun connecting the Hebrew word for watching or overseeing with the Greek sophia, meaning wisdom. The interpretation is debated.
20. Why should the Hebrew Bible be studied in its original language?
Studying biblical Hebrew can reveal alliteration, grammatical subtleties, wordplay, and ambiguities that are difficult to reproduce in translation. These features can enrich literary interpretation.
