3: 13b-14- (The whole region of Argob in Bashan used to be known as a land of the Rephaites.1 Jair, a descendant of Manasseh, took the whole region of Argob as far as the border of the Geshurites and the Maacathites; it was named after him, so that to this day Bashan is called Havvoth Jair.)
As indicated by the brackets in most modern translations, this is an editorial note by the narrator. Here the narrator remarks on how, for the first time, Israel engages in the act of naming.2 Jair, a member of Manasseh (Num 32:41) had captured the region of Argob in the Bashan and named it after himeself, Havvoth Jair, "Jair's Village." In the OT, naming or name changing is an act of discerning the nature of an object (which, therefore, opens the way to engaging with, or exercising authority over, it) or of acknowledging an act of pivotal historical or personal significance (such as Abram and Sarai being renamed Abraham and Sarah in anticipation of their new status as parents, Gen 17:4-6, 15-16). The narrator has already made a number of remarks earlier—and made much of them—about how the descendants of Esau and Lot had dispossessed the Rephaites and asserted their rights over the land and changed the names of those places to reflect their assertions. "Jair's Village" may not be the most inspiring of appellations, but it is Israelite! The land is not longer Eretz Rephaim, but Havvoth Jair! The days of the giants are over, their sovereign ground transformed into a place of secure Israelite possession. In Havvoth Jair ancient Israel made her first concrete act of national assertion.
It is important, however, to set this act of national declaration within its larger context. Frank Viviano, in an article on the nomadic Csángáos of Romania, observes how
. . . every nation has a defining moment—a moment that proclaims, in the collective imagination, 'This is who we are,' and its almost universal corollary, 'This land is ours.' Nation is born in such assertions, a specific identity permanently rooted in a specific place. But the Csángáos were different. The sense of permanence, of rooted certainty, seemed absent from their lives.3
So too was ancient Israel different! She is different from the Csángáos, for Israel's "sense of permanence, of rooted certainty" was unambiguouly obvious. But Israel's was also different from all other nations, for her sense of certainty and permanence was not rooted in a specific place. Her specific identity was founded in God's proclamation that "although the whole earth is mine, you [Israel] will be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Exo 19:5-6). Ancient Israel's defining moment came not at Havvoth Jair, but at Sinai.4 For a people whose identity is gounded in the elective purpose of God the significance of any moment is not found in its immediate impact, however exhilarating or gratifying the experience of it may be. It is to be found in the weave it makes in the fabric that is the kingdom of God. The history of ancient Israel showed how quickly she forgot this. When that happened she became indistinguishable from any other participant in the cacophonic bullying game that is politics, her prophetic office corroded and then dissolved in the acids of power-plays.
Low Chai Hok
©Alberith, rev., 2021