What is your favorite type of novel? Do you stay awake at night reading mysteries, thrillers, or sci-fi? Do nineteenth-century English classics fill your bookshelf? Is C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkein, or Leo Tolstoy your favorite non-biblical author?

Whatever your favorite kind of book, it almost certainly falls into a genre with clearly definable characteristics. Westerns always include an epic shootout; mysteries, a crime. Science fiction novels occur somewhere in the distant future, and thrillers leave much unresolved until the very end.

The Hebrew Bible—that is, the Old Testament—fits into its own literary genre, one that frequently makes us moderns uncomfortable when it fails to follow the conventions we have come to expect. Where the modern mind looks for a thorough description of the setting, the Hebrew Bible gives us a single location—no description. Where we expect to read a character’s full physical appearance, the Old Testament gives us one characteristic—or none at all. Where we look for clarity in each character’s motivations (all the way back to their childhood trauma), Old Testament narratives give sparse, enigmatic details.

But though it does not fit into our modern expectations of narrative, the Hebrew Bible forms one of the most stunning works of
literature in history. Because God intends it to speak to our hearts, it is worth not just study but also enjoyment and delight.

Let’s look closely at a layered and nuanced anecdote in the Torah.

In Genesis 39, Joseph, sold into slavery by his brothers, has been purchased by an Egyptian man named Potiphar. The book
describes Potiphar’s trusting relationship with him:

Genesis 39:1–6.¹ And the LORD was with Joseph and he was a successful man, and he was in the house of his Egyptian master. And his master saw that the LORD was with him, and all that he did the LORD made succeed in his hand, and Joseph found favor in his eyes and he ministered to him, and he put him in charge of his house, and all that he had he placed in his hands. And it happened from the time he put him in charge of his house and of all he had, that the LORD had blessed the Egyptian’s house for Joseph’s sake and the LORD’s blessing was on all that he had in house and field. And he left all that he had in Joseph’s hands, and he gave no thought to anything with him there save the bread he ate. And Joseph was comely in features and comely to look at.

In the ancient Hebrew literary genre, repetition develops themes and motifs in and across narratives. This—to modern eyes—startingly repetitive paragraph uses the words “hand,” “blessing,” and “success” to convey to us that Joseph flourished in his difficult situation. The paragraph closes with the only physical description we will receive of Joseph, a phrase that is a word-for-word repetition of the book’s description of Joseph’s mother, chapters before: he was “comely in features and comely to look at.”

Here in the Hebrew Bible, every detail matters, and his appearance is about to be brought to bear on Joseph’s situation.

Genesis 39:7–10. And it happened after these things that his master’s wife raised her eyes to Joseph and said, “Lie with me.” And he refused. And he said to his master’s wife, “Look, my master has given no thought with me here to what is in the house, and all that he has he has placed in my hands. He is not greater in this house than I, and he has held back nothing from me except you, as you are his wife, and how could I do this great evil and give offense to God?” And so she
spoke to Joseph day after day, and he would not listen to her, to lie by her, to be with her.

This is an excellent example of what Hebrew scholars call “contrastive dialogue”. The Bible uses speech to tell vivid, gripping stories that draw the reader in. Many times, the genre uses two totally different speaking styles to give readers a sense of conflict or difference between figures. In this scene, Potiphar’s wife demands that Joseph become intimate with her. Her command is two words in Hebrew. In effect, “Do me.”

In contrast, Joseph’s reply rambles. It touches on multiple lines of reasoning and ends in a rhetorical question, giving a sense that Joseph is upset. Is he nervous, anxious, or embarrassed—or something else? The text is silent on his inner workings. But like a great novel, it invites us to notice Joseph’s inner turmoil as he splutters at her in a 37-word reply.

In the following verses, Joseph’s plight comes to a point. Potiphar’s wife² continues to entice Joseph until, one day, she grabs his clothing, stripping it off him as he runs away and leaves his robe in her hands. She now both hates Joseph and has incriminating evidence.

Joseph is in big trouble. And while critics of the Bible may expect a simplistic or obvious plot, the text instead shows us how Potiphar’s wife uses a partial version of the truth to deceive and manipulate Potiphar’s entire household. The result is a complicated text with multiple layers of meaning, speech, and character motivation.

In a fictitious account, you might expect Potiphar’s wife to play the victim by accusing Joseph, and she does that. But a careful reading shows an implicit accusation against her husband, first to his household and then to himself. First, “she called out to the people of the house and said to them, saying, ‘See, he has brought us a Hebrew man to play with us. He came into me to lie with me and I called out in a loud voice, and so, when he heard me raise my voice and call out, he left his garment by me and fled and went out.’” She does not name her husband or Joseph; she simply calls them both, starting with Potiphar, “he,” saying “he has brought us,” and implicitly placing the burden of her imagined assault on Potiphar’s own shoulders.

Genesis 39:16–20a. And she laid out his garment by her until his master returned to his house. And she spoke to him things of this sort, saying, “The Hebrew slave came into me, whom you brought us, to play with me. And so, when I raised my voice and called out, he left his garment by me and fled outside.” And it happened, when his master heard his wife’s words which she spoke to him, saying, “Things of this sort your slave has done to me,” he became incensed. And Joseph’s master took him and placed him in the prison-house, the place where the king’s prisoners were held.

When Potiphar’s wife speaks to him about Joseph, she calls him the slave “whom you brought us”. Here, she aligns herself with the household against Potiphar. The text allows a possible subtext where Potiphar’s wife is not just accusing Joseph of assault; her phrasing is saying “and by the way, husband, it’s all your fault— you’re the one who brought him to us in the household.”

Note verse 19, which describes Potiphar’s reaction to this: “he became incensed.” The text leaves out a detail—with whom? Is Potiphar upset that, as he has been told, Joseph has attempted intimacy with his wife? Or is he angered by his wife accusatory, manipulative manner, pushing him to punish a man he trusts so much that he leaves everything in his control? Like many other times in the Hebrew Bible, the narrative leaves it to us.

As it happens, Yahweh has the last word. One thing is certainly not left to interpretation: Yahweh is faithful to Joseph, and nothing can stop his success. The chapter concludes like this:

Genesis 39:20b–23. And he (Joseph) was there in the prison-house, and God was with Joseph and extended kindness to him, and granted him favor in the eyes of the prison-house warden. And the prison-house warden placed in Joseph’s hands all the prisoners who were in the prison-house, and all that they were to do there, it was he who did it. The prisonhouse warden had to see to nothing that was in his hands, as the LORD was with him, and whatever he
did, the LORD made succeed.

This kind of repetition of concepts and phrases is a hallmark of the ancient Hebrew literary genre, and here it is used to emphasize the supremacy of God’s favor over even the most difficult and humiliating of circumstances. The chapter concludes with almost the same phrases it had opened with, and the final words form a microcosm of the entire chapter: “whatever he did, the LORD made succeed”.

As we consider and enjoy the Hebrew Bible for what it is, God’s word, may we grow in enjoying it as the extraordinary work of art that it is. I pray that as we do, our growth in the faith would be like Joseph’s life here in chapter 39: “whatever he did, the LORD made succeed”.

1. All verse text is quoted from Robert Alter, The Five Books of Moses: A Translation with Commentary (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, 2004).[↩]
2. Why isn’t Potiphar’s wife named? Is this a mark of contempt for her behavior? Does it signify that her actions are so unimportant in God’s grand plan that her identity doesn’t merit mentioning? Again, we are invited to consider.[↩]