וַיֵּ֥ט מֹשֶׁ֛ה אֶת־יָדֹ֖ו עַל־הַשָּׁמָ֑יִם וַיְהִ֧י חֹֽשֶׁךְ־אֲפֵלָ֛ה בְּכָל־אֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם שְׁלֹ֥שֶׁת יָמִֽים׃
(Exodus 10:22)
Ἐξέτεινεν δὲ Μωυσῆς τὴν χεῖρα εἰς τὸν οὐρανόν καὶ ἐγένετο σκότος γνόφος θύελλα ἐπὶ πᾶσαν γῆν Αἰγύπτου τρεῖς ἡμέρας
(Exodus 10:22 LXX)
Setting the Scene: Gesture and Consequence
Exodus 10:22 records the dramatic onset of the ninth plague, darkness, a judgment that strikes not through noise or destruction but through the withdrawal of light itself. In the Hebrew narrative, the action begins with a deliberate gesture: וַיֵּט מֹשֶׁה אֶת־יָדוֹ, “and Moses stretched out his hand.” The human act is minimal, almost restrained, yet it triggers a cosmic reversal.
The Septuagint preserves this sequence but expands its sensory force, transforming the Hebrew’s compact description into a storm-laden tableau. The result is a powerful example of how Greek translation does not merely mirror Hebrew grammar but rearticulates experience.
Hebrew Narrative Compression
The Hebrew text unfolds with classic narrative economy:
– וַיֵּט — wayyiqtol, marking forward narrative motion.
– עַל־הַשָּׁמָיִם — “toward/over the heavens,” a spatial gesture signaling divine agency.
– וַיְהִי — the standard biblical marker of result: “and it came to be.”
The darkness itself is defined as חֹשֶׁךְ־אֲפֵלָה, a compound phrase intensifying the condition. חֹשֶׁךְ denotes darkness in general, while אֲפֵלָה adds the sense of thick, oppressive gloom. The Hebrew thus emphasizes density, not motion. Darkness is not described as moving or attacking; it simply is, saturating “all the land of Egypt” for three days.
Greek Expansion: Darkness as a Phenomenon
The Septuagint renders the gesture with elegant precision:
ἐξέτεινεν δὲ Μωυσῆς τὴν χεῖρα εἰς τὸν οὐρανόν.
The verb ἐκτείνω (“to stretch out”) matches Hebrew נָטָה closely, preserving the physical symbolism of mediated divine power.
Where the Greek diverges is in its portrayal of the darkness:
σκότος γνόφος θύελλα.
This triple expression is striking.
– σκότος corresponds directly to חֹשֶׁךְ.
– γνόφος evokes thick cloud, often associated with divine presence or terror.
– θύελλα (“storm, violent disturbance”) introduces motion and turbulence, elements absent from the Hebrew.
The LXX thus reimagines the plague not merely as static darkness but as an overwhelming atmospheric event, almost a cosmic convulsion.
Comparative Morphological and Lexical Table
| Hebrew Expression | Greek Rendering | Grammatical Notes | Translation Technique |
|---|---|---|---|
| וַיֵּט מֹשֶׁה אֶת־יָדוֹ | ἐξέτεινεν Μωυσῆς τὴν χεῖρα | Both use narrative past forms; Hebrew wayyiqtol vs. Greek aorist indicative. | Formal equivalence preserving gesture-action sequence. |
| עַל־הַשָּׁמָיִם | εἰς τὸν οὐρανόν | Hebrew “over/toward the heavens”; Greek “into the heaven,” emphasizing directed motion. | Slight interpretive shift toward spatial penetration. |
| חֹשֶׁךְ־אֲפֵלָה | σκότος γνόφος θύελλα | Hebrew compound intensification; Greek triple noun expansion adding dynamism. | Interpretive amplification heightening sensory impact. |
| בְּכָל־אֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם | ἐπὶ πᾶσαν γῆν Αἰγύπτου | Both express total geographic scope; Greek uses preposition ἐπί with accusative. | Literal equivalence with idiomatic adjustment. |
Syntax and Temporal Framing
Both texts conclude with שְׁלֹשֶׁת יָמִים / τρεῖς ἡμέρας. The duration is identical, yet its narrative effect differs. In Hebrew, the phrase functions almost like a seal, closing the scene with solemn finality. In Greek, placed after a vivid description of storm-darkness, it underscores endurance — this is not a momentary eclipse but a sustained suspension of normal creation.
Theological Resonance of Translation
The Hebrew presentation emphasizes authority through stillness: Moses acts, and darkness simply comes to be. The plague feels inevitable, weighty, and immovable.
The Greek, by contrast, emphasizes overwhelming force. Darkness roars, churns, and envelops. By introducing θύελλα, the LXX frames the plague as an assault on the ordered cosmos, aligning it with other theophanic storm imagery found in Greek-speaking Jewish tradition.
Both approaches are faithful, yet they guide the reader differently:
– Hebrew invites awe at God’s quiet sovereignty.
– Greek evokes fear at God’s uncontrollable power.
Echoes of the Text
In this verse, translation becomes interpretation. The hand of Μωυσῆς mediates judgment, but the nature of that judgment is refracted through language. Hebrew compresses the event into dense inevitability; Greek unfolds it into sensory terror.
Together, they testify that divine judgment is not only an act but an experience — one that can be felt as suffocating stillness or as violent storm. In either tongue, the darkness over Αἰγύπτου is not merely the absence of light, but the presence of divine authority made visible through shadow.
