My White Whale – One Year Later

Call me Ishmael, which in Hebrew, means “God will hear”. It’s hard to believe it’s been a whole year since I began learning biblical Hebrew. It was January 2024 when I audaciously tried to persuade readers of this blog to join me in learning the first language of the Bible. As far as I know, only one of you took me up on the offer (Hi, Bobbie!).

Nevertheless, I persevered, and so far I have watched about 80 different Aleph with Beth videos covering 43 lessons. Combining these videos with their free phone app, I can now read, although slowly, almost any Hebrew text in the scriptures. I can only understand a small portion of what I read, but it’s amazing to be able to at least sound out the same words uttered by the prophets of old. The creation story is astonishingly beautiful in its native tongue.

The original language (it’s incredible to comprehend how many years ago we’re talking about) carries rich subtleties that enliven the text in enjoyable ways. For example,  Youtuber, Ilan, taught me there are seven words in Genesis 1:1, establishing a pattern for the rest of the Bible about the perfection and completion indicated by God’s favorite number. Some believe the Hebrew language is so perfect it could only have been invented by God himself.

And since I’ve allowed Youtube to suggest more videos for me, I’ve discovered dozens of Hebrew-speaking Christians eager to make the original language of the Bible accessible to English speakers like you and me. Have I gone too far down this rabbit hole? Am I like Ahab in Moby Dick, pursuing a futile obsession?

Resoundingly, no!

If you’ve ever read Moby Dick, you can’t miss the irony of plodding through a story about a quest for whale oil, a worthless commodity in today’s world, while also reading the greatest masterpiece of American literature. The triviality of the whale oil and futility of the adventure strengthens the impact for the reader, creating a sense of awe and wonder as to why anyone would be crazy enough to board the Pequod in the first place.

I feel like Ishmael. Learning an ancient language feels a little crazy. As with Melville’s narrator, my adventure began on a whim, but I’m fully committed and eager to learn more. I’m in awe of the voyage and have a voracious curiosity—not to chase a whale but to study the Bible the way my Savior did. I want to hear the voice of God like Jesus did. I want to understand the rhythm, the subtleties, and the cadence of God’s word. As Ishmael says, “As for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.”

I’d like to invite you again to join me on the journey of learning biblical Hebrew. Never in all of history have the languages of the Bible been so accessible, and I believe God has gifted us with this accessibility to increase our biblical literacy and keep us from being swayed by waves of false teaching.

I also want to warn you before you set out on this voyage with me. Learning Biblical Hebrew isn’t for land-lubbers. The sea of Hebrew has a depth and mystery that the English language can’t fathom. In the words of Ishmael:

Consider the subtleness of the sea; how its most dreaded creatures glide under water, unapparent for the most part, and treacherously hidden beneath the loveliest tints of azure. Consider also the devilish brilliance and beauty of many of its most remorseless tribes, as the dainty embellished shape of many species of sharks. Consider, once more, the universal cannibalism of the sea; all whose creatures prey upon each other, carrying on eternal war since the world began.

Consider all this; and then turn to the green, gentle, and most docile earth; consider them both, the sea and the land; and do you not find a strange analogy to something in yourself? For as this appalling ocean surrounds the verdant land, so in the soul of man there lies one insular Tahiti, full of peace and joy, but encompassed by all the horrors of the half-known life. God keep thee! Push not off from that isle, thou canst never return!”

So, will you be the Queequeg to my Ishmael on this wild voyage to “land on barbarous coasts”, possibly never to return to the gentle isle of your familiar study Bible? We can encourage each other along the way as we sail through the exciting and mysterious tahom (abyss) of ancient biblical Hebrew.