How to read the Bible: Parallel lines

#60: “How to read the Bible: Parallel lines” by Brendon Wahlberg
The Bible is full of poetry. Just look at Psalms and Proverbs, the Song of Songs, and large sections of the prophets. But ancient Hebrew poetry is different from what we might think of as poetry today. Understanding the differences can help us to read the Bible better than we already do. For example, we might think that in a traditional poem, two paired lines have the same number of syllables, and that those lines end in words that rhyme. That’s not the case with Hebrew poetry. In the Bible, Hebrew poets didn’t care about numbers of syllables, and they didn’t usually rhyme words. Instead, they rhymed ideas. What I mean is, rhyming two words can give you, say, cake and bake. Rhyming two ideas can give you, say, cake and dessert, instead.
The rhyming of ideas is one of the most basic and important features of Hebrew poetry, and it is found everywhere in the Bible. Scholars call it “Parallelism”, and they have identified several different kinds of parallelism in the Bible. If we go over those different kinds, and look at an example of each, we will have a much better understanding of how the poetry in the Bible was written, and what it means.
1. The second line repeats the same idea of the first line, but says it in words that are a bit different, to emphasize the idea. Here’s an example from Psalm 114, where the psalmist says that nature was so impressed by the exodus that it trembled and reacted in fear and awe.
“The sea looked and fled;
Jordan turned back.
The mountains skipped like rams
The hills like young sheep.”

You can see that in each pair of lines, the second line says the same thing as the first line, just using different wording. Don’t get too caught up in the details, worrying about why one line says mountains and the other says hills, or about how the river Jordan is not a sea. Rhyme the thoughts in your head instead. You know about synonymous words. Think of these as synonymous lines of poetry. Mountains and hills (or the Jordan and the sea) are supposed to be the “same” thing here.

2. The second line contrasts the idea of the first line, or is the opposite of it, to make you think about the two different things together. There is a lot of this in Proverbs, where contrasting thoughts rhyme in the next line, often using the word “but” in between. Here’s an example from Proverbs 10.

“A wise child makes a glad father,
But a foolish child is a mother’s grief.
Treasures gained by wickedness do not profit,
But righteousness delivers from death.”

You can see that in each pair of lines, the second line is in direct contrast to the first. This time, maybe you do want to get caught up in the details. See how lack of true profit and delivery from death are contrasted, but also how treasure and righteousness are compared. You might think about how physical treasure could lead to wickedness, or how righteousness is a treasure of a different kind.

3. The second line adds a thought to the first line, completing it. Or the two lines have a cause and effect relationship. From Psalm 23:

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil;
For you are with me; your rod and your staff – they comfort me.”

You can see that the second line completes the thought of the first line. And, there is cause and effect. God is with the psalmist, therefore he fears no evil.

Sometimes the adding of thoughts is done over several lines, with each line adding one more idea, building to a climax. It is like a staircase where each additional line is like another step up to the top.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside still waters;
He restores me soul.
He leads me in right paths
for his name’s sake.”

You can see how the first line claims that the psalmist shall not want for anything. Each line after that adds more explanations of why that is so: “He” does this, “He” does that. It all builds to the climactic idea that it is all for the sake of God’s name.

Scholars who study Hebrew poetry have identified many other categories, but those three are enough for our purposes. I want to use the rest of our time to look at what happens when someone does not understand the basics of Hebrew poetry and parallelism. Let’s look at a passage from the prophet Zechariah, 9:9. This is some classic Hebrew poetry.

“Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!
Lo, your king comes to you;
triumphant and victorious is he,
humble and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” (Zechariah 9:9)

Check out the last two lines. That’s a good example of the first category I mentioned above. The idea of the first line is repeated in the second line, using wording that is a little bit different, to emphasize the thought. Line 1: The king is so humble that he is riding on a donkey. Line 2: I’m not kidding, he is really riding on a young donkey!

This part of Zechariah was understood by the gospel writers, Matthew, Mark and Luke, to refer to the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. It was as if Zechariah was foretelling how Jesus would ride into Jerusalem on a donkey, like a humble King. But two of these three gospel writers understood Hebrew poetry and parallelism, and the third did not. Read the following three passages and see if you can tell which one didn’t really understand. It’s not hard to tell.

“When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples and said to them, ‘Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. If anyone says to you, “Why are you doing this?” just say this, “The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.” ’ They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, some of the bystanders said to them, ‘What are you doing, untying the colt?’ They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it.” (Mark 11:1-7)
“When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, saying, ‘Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, “Why are you untying it?” just say this: “The Lord needs it.” ’ So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, ‘Why are you untying the colt?’ They said, ‘The Lord needs it.’ Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it.” (Luke 19:29-35)
“When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, ‘Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, “The Lord needs them.” And he will send them immediately.’ This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, ‘Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’ The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.” (Matthew 21:1-7)
You said Matthew, right? Unlike Mark and Luke, Matthew reports that Jesus asked for two animals to be brought, a younger donkey and an older one, and that somehow Jesus sat on both of them. Did he balance very carefully? Did the two animals have to keep very close together the whole time?
What seems to have happened here is that Matthew understood Jesus’ entry to the city, riding a donkey, to be a fulfillment of the prophecy. He quoted Zechariah, but he did not seem to have understood parallelism. Zechariah did not mean that there were two animals, a donkey and a colt. He meant that there was one animal; a donkey is also the foal of a donkey, of course. But let us not blame Matthew so quickly. It is possible that Matthew also looked at a Greek translation of Zechariah, called the Septuagint. From what I could find online, the Septuagint has this wording:
“Behold, your King comes to you;
Just and saving is he;
Gentle and mounted on a beast of burden
And a young colt.”
Our goal when we read the Bible is always to truly understand it. Understanding these basic ideas about how Hebrew poetry is written, will help us to understand the Bible better, and to understand God’s word to us.
This column celebrates sixty months of “Did You Know”…that’s five years! (How many dog years is that, though?)