- Dan McClellan argues pretty forcefully that this was originally YHWH, but when the idea of direct contact with deity became theologically unacceptable, the word “messenger” (malak, also the word for angels) was added in a few places, making for some confusing readings where the being is initially introduced as a “messenger of the Lord” and then later in the passage just called the Lord himself:
- https://youtu.be/VA3gIBVxrTo?si=rKg9cmo6WuPajUkF https://www.thetorah.com/article/the-angel-of-yhwh
What was the figure?
There are diverse hypotheses, notably that the being is an angel, and that he is a river-demon or was originally presented as one (with the biblical redactors/authors ‘masking’ this identification). There are objections to both readings, and another proposal (made notably by Hamori in When Gods Were Men) is that the “man” is a direct divine manifestation (of El / YHWH “identified as El”).
To help the reading of Hamori: ʾîš = man; ʾĕlōhîm = god, deity, divine being (the word is very generic); El = Canaanite high god —ʾēl can either designate him or be a generic term for god/deity; malʾāk = messenger or ‘angel’ (a somewhat problematic category; see here).
Some interpreters, like Westermann, following the XIXth cent. scholars Frazer and Gunkel, have proposed the being to be a river-demon of sorts, based on contextual clues and potential literary parallels.
Sarna is sympathetic to the idea that it was originally the case:
The first detail to arrest our attention is the river as the scene of the struggle. This immediately calls to mind the innumerable tales in world literature of river-spirits who fight with humans seeking to cross their abodes. Insofar as rivers frequently prove unexpectedly treacherous, they were believed to possess some malevolent power dangerous to life. From this notion of the personification of the river is but a brief step, so that travelers would take good care to propitiate the river-god through sacrifice, libation or other ceremony before attempting to ford. Bearing this in mind, it is clear that in the original story, the spirit of the swift-flowing Jabbok must have tried to prevent Jacob from crossing the river. The bare bones of this ancient saga betray an unmistakably folkloristic flavor in the use of this motif and in the obvious word-play involving the name of the river (in Hebrew: yabbok) and the word for, “he wrestled” (in Hebrew: va-ye’abek).
Equally well known is the second motif of a demonic being whose power is restricted to the duration of the night and who is unable to abide the breaking of the dawn. An evident corollary is the opportunity afforded a brave soul to derive personal profit from the situation. He who can hold on to the demon long enough can bend him to his will. This temporal limitation upon demonic power explains the desperate crippling blow the adversary inflicted upon Jacob.
Hamori and Hundley (Yahweh among the Gods) are skeptical of his reading when discussing it, notably objecting that:
Perhaps the most common recent interpretation is that the figure is the numen of the river Jabbok, based on Gunkel’s idea that Jacob’s fight resembles struggles with river-demons known from folklore.38
Gunkel’s idea, in fact first suggested by Frazer, is problematic.39 The theory rests on literary parallels which Gunkel mentions only briefly, and which do not correspond well to the picture in the biblical text. Furthermore, Frazer’s full list of literary and anthropological parallels overwhelmingly indicates that the phenomena represented are wholly distinct.40 Nevertheless, those who have espoused the river-demon theory have been satisfied to cite Gunkel, and have not returned to the literary and anthropological evidence. […]
In the introductory section in which Frazer discusses the Greek texts mentioned above, he also refers to the stories of Midas and Numa, later mentioned by Gunkel. These examples, it should be noted, are not related to water-spirits, but refer to gods with knowledge desired by a king. While these stories also do not provide particularly close parallels to the passage in Genesis, it is worth observing that they do refer to human heroes holding gods captive until they receive something they desire. In fact, Gunkel himself closes his argument with the example of Zeus coming in human form to wrestle his son Hercules, only revealing his identity after wrestling evenly matched for quite some time. This is the only close parallel, and it demonstrates that in fact a deity in human form is a better model for the Genesis text than a water guardian.56 Indeed, as many refer to the river-spirit theory as Gunkel’s interpretation of the text, it bears repeating that Gunkel himself wrote that stories of “a god compelled by a human through deceit or force to leave behind his secret knowledge or something else divine” supply closer parallels to the text of Genesis 32.57 (Hamori, pp13-17)
The texts mentioned appear far removed in time and space from the Genesis account, which lacks several key features of the alleged parallels (e.g., the man is not a shape-shifter, there is no interference crossing the river, and Jacob offers no propitiation). The being also cannot be a demon since Jacob elicits a blessing from him. See briefly Sarna 1989:403; see more fully Hamori 2008:13–18. (Hundley, footnote 133 p229)
Sarna thinks the absence of shapeshifting and other motifs is due to the adaptation of the text to fit the author-redactor’s framework:
the demonic river-spirit of the original tale has been transformed in the scriptural narrative. All those features characteristic of river-crossing combats have been omitted from our narrative. There is no mention of any of the usual ceremonies designed to propitiate the spirit.
Vagueness of the description of the adversary contrasts strongly with the usual pattern in which the spirit assumes the form of animals, serpents and monsters, constantly shifting from one guise to another in the course of its attacks. That Jacob knew nothing at all about a river- spirit of Jabbok is evident from the total unexpectedness of the attack and the request for a name. The nocturnal assailant has become a member of the divine retinue conforming to the monotheistic pattern of biblical angelogy.
Hamori again:
While the view of the ʾîš as a river guardian has become rather popular, some have interpreted the figure as a spirit of a different sort. Hermann Wohlstein, for instance, considers ʾĕlōhîm in this text to refer to the spirit of a dead man (hence the use of ʾîš ), as in the post-mortem appearance of Samuel to Saul in 1 Samuel 28:13. He argues that this reflects the tradition of the ancestor spirits who punish the living for neglecting to sacrifice to them.64 (He does not offer any ideas regarding the sacrifice Jacob might have neglected to give.)
The most traditional interpretation, of course, is that the ʾîš is an angel. Much of the time this is presented as a given, oddly enough, since the text uses the terms ʾîš and ʾĕlōhîm, but not malʾāk.
[After listing other proposals —like that the story reflects traditions of Canaanite origin about ʼĒl and Mot, etc]
Many of the preceding interpretations add unnecessary complexity to the text. […]
It is clear that he is in physical form concretely a man, and not simply a disguised divinity with superhuman strength.
It is in the subsequent dialogue that his divine identity becomes equally clear. Jacob requests a blessing, and the man responds by renaming him, an act which reflects his divine nature.
It is not only the act of renaming Jacob that betrays the identity of the ʾîš in Genesis 32. The giving of a new name does reflect his divine nature, but moreover, the ʾîš names Jacob Yiśrāʾēl, or “God strives.” However the name originally came about, the etymology offered in this text clearly depends upon an understanding of the ʾîš as God. […]
It has been argued that the term in this verse does not mean “God,” but “gods” or “divine beings.”92 It has also been suggested that ʾĕlōhîm here refers to a ghost or ancestor spirit, as in 1 Samuel 28:13.93 However, the phrase “for you have striven with ʾĕlōhîm and with [men]” cannot be separated from the new name given to Jacob, for which it offers explanation. The name given in 32:29 is Yisra-El, and its explanation is […] “for you have striven with ʾĕlōhîm.”
The term ʾĕlōhîm is used to explain the name Yisra-El, and thus is used as an equivalent to El.94 […]
Moreover, both of these –El names and their respective explanations concern an encounter with God in person. The name Peniel and its explanation reflect the immediacy of God’s presence; the name Israel and its explanation reflect God’s concrete presence. The explanations offered in this story for the names Peniel and Israel cannot simply refer to ʾĕlōhîm outside of the context of the story of a direct encounter […]
The use of these names in the story cannot be separated from the explanations offered for them, as explanations are consistently provided when new names are given; this connection establishes that the uses of ʾĕlōhîm in the explanations refer to El, God. The explanations, in turn, cannot be separated from the encounter with God in the story. All of these elements are linked, and tell of a physical encounter with God. The ʾîš who wrestles Jacob is identified through multiple, irreducible elements of the story as ʾĕlōhîm, ʾēl, God.
See Michael Hundley:
- Nahum Sarna:
Esther Hamori:
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