All Woman
Creation Story Two: 2:4b-25
The Lord God said, ‘It is not good that the man should be alone. I will make him a helpmate… The Lord God built the rib he had taken from the man into a woman, and brought her to the man. The man exclaimed:
This at last is bone from my bones,
and flesh from my flesh!
This is to be called woman,
for this was taken from man. (2:18, 21-3)
It’s worth clarifying some hidden wordplay here. Creation One first delivered a pun on the words human and earth (adam/adamah), the meaning of which we explored previously. The word adam is, thus, generic, ie human, rather than gender specific, ie man/male. Creation One uses different words for specifying male and female.
Creation Two also makes use of the word adam, but having separated in time the creation of male and female as a story device, the word now rather unfortunately attaches solely to the male. The English word man precisely reflects this ambiguity – human and male. Adam is now commonly a male name. It gets somewhat worse when the writers of Creation Two introduce a pun of their own. Different words for man and woman are used in the final part of our extract above – ish / ishah. The word for woman is literally comprised of the word for man (once again, like in English: wo/man).
There are, clearly, residual aspects of patriarchy caught up in this as well as in other elements of the story: the woman defined as a helpmate to the man, his naming of her as a sign of possession and lordly authority, her identity (ironically lampooned) as the ‘spare rib’.
However, there is another way of picturing it. After all, she isn’t, (as so often portrayed in contemporaneous literature): one of any number of sexual playthings; or, a breeding machine; a bargaining chip; a slavish workhorse; a chattel to be dominated through physical punishment; or a perennial troublemaker, witch, strumpet/nymphomaniac, incurable gossip or harridan; or a weak-willed and irremediably inferior version of man; or, basically, simply better neither seen nor heard unless needed for something by the man. It’s highly instructive to compare the vision presented by Genesis with the status of women in Classical Athens.
Returning to the text with this in mind, the story’s patriarchal residue can take on a somewhat softer hue. The woman isn’t presented as simply a cure for male loneliness. There’s a mutual incompleteness, so the story actually provides a powerful ahead-of-its-time portrait of complementarity. The meaning of suitable helpmate is actually closer to counterpoint or necessary equivalent. The root word for helper here isn’t exclusive to women either - God Himself gives us such help, (cf Ps 63:7; 89:19). Although the rib is taken from the man and not vice-versa, its purpose is to show an intrinsic bond of flesh and therefore nature. They become one body, (v 24). This is as much a corrective message of equality and reciprocity to a patriarchal society as it is a reflection of it.
A further (more successful) pun is instructive:
The man named his wife ‘Eve’ because she was the mother of all those who live. (3:20)
Here the Hebrew for Eve and life/living are equivalents. In other words, she’s the archetypal mother. This is no small status: Lady of Life, if you will. It has the regal feel of Creation One. Crucially, the man doesn’t confer this identity so much as discover and name it. Before the creator God, then, there’s a transparency of mutual worth and freedom between the couple that’s grounded in their divine origins.
Now, clearly we are dealing with an archetypal vision. The woman as ‘partnered breeder’ isn’t meant to be a complete picture of all a woman is. Rather, it’s meant as instructive not reductive. As noted previously, it’s a theological reflection on the vocation of this archetypal couple whose calling is to populate the earth - which is, in fact, the fundamental meaning of Genesis.
But, even if unforeseen, it also marks the beginning of the biblical unfolding of the Heroine. Eve sparks a narrative thread that leads to the characterful Sarah, the canny Rebekah and the providential Rachel. Our Matriarchs! Moreover, where would the captive Israelites have been without the courageous Shiphrah and Puah? Or Moses without Jochebed’s sacrifice? Her daughter Miriam becomes the prototype of the true prophetess. Rahab’s rehab from harlot to royal-line starlet is story gold. Ruth’s loyalty to Naomi, her care and diligence, are examples to us all in adversity. Who wouldn’t want Deborah as Commander-in-Chief, Judith on point to fatally outwit the foe, or Queen Esther when things turn really ugly? And this is before even contemplating the mystery of Mary, as God’s own mother (!); or, The Woman at the Well as the first apostle to the Samaritans; or, Mary Magdalene as first herald of the Resurrection; or, Lydia a church leader in Philippi, and Phoebe, deaconess in Corinthia, and Priscilla, evangelist entrepreneur in Ephesus.
We rightly remember these wonderful women for strength of character and the diverse and crucial parts they play in salvation history. I’m still searching for equivalent compellingly spiritual female protagonists in the modern novel. If it’s a question of justice, one might point to Miss Marple, or the rather more physical, Katniss Everdeen, and, for integrity, I appreciate Elizabeth Bennet represents a highpoint for many. The enduring Kristin Lavransdatter has literally been calling to me from the bookshelf for ages. I’d love to discover more.
Scripture further provides two fascinating insights to help conclude this reflection. The first serves to highlight the unabashed parity of the sexes:
Now both of them were naked, the man and his wife, but they felt no shame in front of each other. (2:25)
The second serves as a timely reminder that gender equality narratives, whilst vital where imbalances and distortions occur, only really make sense within the broader narrative of our common humanity before God.
There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Gal 3:28)
Header photo: Ava Sol, Unsplash