In English, idioms appear only occasionally as colorful expressions, but in biblical Hebrew, idioms are constant, shaping the way meaning is conveyed.
Think of the phrase “kick the bucket.” To an English speaker, it is perfectly clear that no one is literally striking a pail with their foot. To someone learning English, however, the image is more than confusing. They would have to be told that it is an idiom, a soft turn of phrase that carries a meaning larger than the literal words.
The Hebrew Bible is filled with phrases like this: to “harden the heart,” to “lift up the face,” to “walk in the way,” to “know” someone, to “cover the feet,” to “gird up the loins,” to “set the face,” or to “eat bread.” These are simple examples, yet in a conceptual language, most phrases carry layers of idiom that remain difficult for us to perceive.
Now, you can imagine how this creates a problem for our modern understanding. For those of us who speak in hard languages like English, that creates a particular challenge. Hard languages train us to expect precision, one-to-one meanings, and fixed categories. Our minds are shaped by that rigidity, so the polysemy of this biblical Hebrew can feel foreign or even flattened when we encounter it. Ancient hearers lived in the flow of those multiple meanings and felt at home in them. We, as hard-language speakers, have to work against our instincts to even begin to comprehend the depth that biblical Hebrew carried so naturally.
Soft vs. Hard Language
Soft languages like Hebrew are capacious. A single word can hold multiple meanings at once. Take the word shema. In English translations, it appears as the command “hear,” as in Shema Yisrael—“Hear, O Israel.” To the ancient ear, shema held so much more depth than the flattened translation we hear today. It carried the sense of listening with understanding and responding in obedience. The Israelites, when specifically using the word shema, could not separate hearing from doing, so when they heard the call to shema, they understood it as a summons to act. Soft languages like Hebrew are capacious. A single word can hold multiple meanings at once.
English and other modern hard languages perform well when clarity and efficiency matter. But they struggle with conveying layers of meaning that soft languages carry naturally. God speaks to us according to our understanding. Isn’t it interesting that even today, He draws on the conceptual depth in these soft languages when communicating with us? Could it be that modern English is too rigid to hold the mysteries in the language of God? Perhaps God is still speaking in soft, polysemic, and conceptual terms. If so, we would want to invest effort to learn the conceptual depth by which God has always communicated. As Joseph Smith, the first prophet of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, wrote to an early church editor W. W. Phelps on November 27, 1832, he offered a heartfelt plea to God: “Oh Lord God, deliver us from this prison, almost as it were, of paper, pen, and ink, and of a crooked, broken, scattered and imperfect language.” That prayer is more true for us today than it was for them then.
The Puzzle of Kenegdo
The story of Adam and Eve has been told and retold for centuries. But what many of us receive today is a story shaped by layers of tradition. Generations of interpreters passed it down through debate, dogma, and politics. Artists gave it form in iconography, each picture coloring how Eve was seen. Over time, the narrative hardened into a familiar version in which Eve was created as subordinate to Adam and both were commanded to avoid the fruit.
Linguistics tells another story. When the Hebrew text is examined diachronically, tracing the earliest layers and the way meanings shifted over time, a very different picture appears. The text itself only records Adam being directly commanded concerning the fruit (see also Moses 3:16, which is even clearer on this point). This sets the stage for a problem. Adam alone could not fulfill the divine command. The ancient oral tradition left a clue in the ṭipḥa (¶)—a cantillation mark that signals a pause in the verse. Readers in antiquity would have recognized this as a deliberate stopping point. This is the moment where Adam stands in stasis. Something more was required to move the story forward.
The very next verse introduces that solution: “It is not good that man should be alone.” The Hebrew word ṭov, usually rendered “good,” can also mean “sufficient.” In other words, Adam by himself lacked sufficiency. Ancient oral tradition and semantic studies show that ṭov often implied functionality or adequacy rather than strictly moral value.
Into this insufficiency steps the figure we too quickly name Eve. The text first introduces her as ezer. Most translations reduce this word to “help,” but that translation obscures the deeper meaning. Hebrew has other words for ordinary “help.” Ezer is different. It appears only 21 times in the Hebrew Bible, and in nearly every case, it is bound to salvation or deliverance (Exodus 18:4; Deuteronomy 33:7; Psalm 33:20). Eve enters the story as ezer, the one who brings salvation to the problem Adam could not solve.
Her title is extended with the word kenegdo. Translations often render it as “meet” or “fit,” as in “an help meet for him.” This choice at least hints at equality, which was remarkable in the world of the translators at the time. But it still falls short of what the Hebrew conveys. Kenegdo literally means “standing opposite of” or “face-to-face with.” It’s an idiom that, taken at face value, describes one who stands across from another as an equal counterpart. Yet, as with all idioms, its real meaning lies in the depth of the concept it conveys.
Each time God entrusts a servant, the language is “face to face.” Jacob names the place Peniel because he saw God “face to face” and his life was preserved. Moses speaks with the Lord “face to face, as a man speaketh unto his friend” at the moment of his prophetic calling. The Levites stand before the Lord face to face to minister, signifying presence and commission. In each of these earliest instances and many more, the idiom marks the moment of authorization. Understanding the nature of soft language, to stand face to face is to receive priesthood.
Adam was not authorized to move forward in the story. Eve enters as the one who bears authorization. She stands face to face, fulfilling the very definition of priesthood. This idiom is difficult for hard-language speakers to grasp, yet in the Hebrew Bible it is unmistakably tied to authority. Adam was not authorized to move forward in the story. Eve enters as the one who bears authorization. She stands face to face, fulfilling the very definition of priesthood.
Standing Face to Face in Nauvoo
The idiom of priesthood begins in Eden, but it does not end there. Eve as ezer kenegdo, standing face to face and embodying salvation and priesthood, is reborn in that same language when Joseph Smith restored the Relief Society, a women’s group of Latter-day Saints, in Nauvoo, Illinois. The archetype did not just disappear. Joseph Smith reestablished the Eden pattern when he invited women into the temple ritual.
In the Kirtland Temple, the first temple of the Church of Jesus Christ, women had no organized ritual role. They witnessed, sang, and rejoiced at visions, but the temple order remained incomplete. By the time the Latter-day Saints had moved to Nauvoo, three years after the Kirtland Temple, questions about women’s authority had come to the forefront of Joseph Smith’s mind. In March 1842, he organized women into the Relief Society. Emma Smith was sustained as president, fulfilling the earlier revelation that she was to be an “Elect Lady.” To the women gathered, Joseph Smith declared, “I now turn the key to you in the name of God.”
Week after week, Joseph Smith expanded their charge. He taught that women could heal, prophesy, and bless with divine sanction. He even described their role as “to save,” echoing the ancient role of ezer in Eden. Eliza R. Snow recorded that Joseph Smith promised the sisters they would form “a kingdom of priests as in Enoch’s day.” The culmination of this vision came in the Nauvoo Temple, where women participated alongside men in the ordinance they called “the endowment.” They clothed themselves in the same garments, entered the same covenants, and received the same blessings.
This was the difference between Kirtland and Nauvoo. In Kirtland, women stood as witnesses. In Nauvoo, they stood face to face with men in ritual, equal counterparts in the order of the priesthood, clothed in the same robes, speaking the same covenants. That balance echoes all the way back to Eden. Eve was the one who moved creation forward, standing as salvation, ezer kenegdo, face to face with Adam when he could go no further. In Nauvoo, women once again stood in that role. They moved salvation forward, clothed in priesthood, equal in covenant, bearing authority in the same idiom restored. The archetype of Eve was never a symbol frozen in the past. It was restored as living practice, carried into the temple, where women and men stood together as counterparts in the image of God. Equal counterparts in the order of the priesthood, clothed in the same robes, speaking the same covenants. That balance echoes all the way back to Eden. Eve was the one who moved creation forward.
If the garden was the beginning, and Nauvoo was a renewal, then the future still holds further unveiling. The temple is the vessel of that unveiling, carrying us deeper into the truths that were spoken from the beginning. We can trust that revelation will not stop. It will grow, it will deepen, and it will carry us into the fullness of what it means to stand face to face with God, as Adam and Eve once did.
