In Hebrew, the verb רחץ rachatz means “to wash” or “to bathe.” In Aramaic, it means “to trust” or “to rely.” Is there any connection between the two?
Let’s start by looking at the Hebrew root. It appears frequently in Biblical Hebrew — 72 times throughout the Tanakh. When talking about physical washing, as opposed to metaphorical cleansing, it refers to washing the human body, as in bathing, or parts of the body. It can also refer to rinsing parts of sacrificial animals. Washing clothes has a different verb — kibes כבס, The reflexive התרחץ means “to wash oneself.”
In Talmudic Hebrew, רחיצה also becomes a legal category of washing, for example as one of the five prohibitions of Yom Kippur.
In Modern Hebrew, the verb isn’t used as frequently, and often sounds more formal or official. For example, to wash hands or to wash a car, it’s more common to use the root שטף than רחץ. To shower, the common verb is התקלח when showering oneself, or קילח / לקלח when showering others, like a child.
When רחץ is used in Modern Hebrew, it often maintains that formal sense. For example, a sign near a beach might say רַחֲצָה אֲסוּרָה — “bathing is forbidden,” but an average person wouldn’t say they were going to the sea for רַחֲצָה. They’d either say they were just going to the sea — הוֹלֵךְ לַיָּם — or going to swim — לִשְׂחוֹת. That said, רחצה could be used when describing entering or being in the water, as a bather, as opposed to the more active form of swimming. Similarly, a doctor or medical protocol preparing hands carefully before surgery might use the more official רחיצה, as compared to an average person who would use שטיפה.
The Academy of the Hebrew Language notes that in the twentieth century a distinction developed between two gerund forms of רחץ, with רַחֲצָה referring to “bathing oneself” and רְחִיצָה indicating cleaning, usually with water and soap.
The Aramaic verb רחץ, meaning “to trust,” only appears once in the Tanakh, in Daniel 3:28. It appears more frequently in the Aramaic of the Talmudic period, and is perhaps most familiar today from a prayer recited when taking the Torah out of the ark. Coming from a passage in the Zohar on Parashat Vayakhel, the prayer includes the phrase בֵּהּ אֲנָא רָחִיץ — “in Him I trust.”
As to a connection, there is a theory that connects the two meanings, “through the accessory idea of ministering as a servant at the bath,” which led to a broader sense of “attend upon” and from there “to trust.” However, that hasn’t been adopted by modern scholarship.
Yet there is an interesting possible connection between the two meanings. In Tehilim 60:10 and Tehilim 108:10, we find the root in an unusual phrase:
מוֹאָב סִיר רַחְצִי עַל־אֱדוֹם אַשְׁלִיךְ נַעֲלִי עָלַי פְּלֶשֶׁת הִתְרוֹעָעִי׃
The JPS translates the verse as:
“Moab would be my washbasin; on Edom I would cast my shoe; acclaim me, O Philistia!”
This translation, which is found in most English translations, identifies סִיר רַחְצִי as “my wash-basin” or “my washpot.” As Robert Alter explains it, “Moab is a humble receptacle for bathing water.” That certainly fits our understanding of the Hebrew root רחץ.
However, the Greek Septuagint provides an unusual translation of this same verse:
“Moab is the cauldron of my hope; over Idumea will I stretch out my shoe; the Philistines have been subjected to me.”
Where did the phrase “cauldron of my hope” come from? Why does it not refer to washing or bathing?
In this book, Prof. Seulgi L. Byun writes:
The rare BH word רַחְץ “washing” is represented by ἐλπίς “hope” in the LXX, which corresponds semantically to Aramaic רחץ, “trust, lean on.” Frankel was the first to suggest that the LXX translator was influenced by Aramaic רחץ, and the evidence is convincing. Though the Hebrew verb רחץ “bathe, wash” continues to be used in PBH, the noun רַחְץ “washing” is not attested in PBH. If, as it appears, the translator did not know a nominal form of the root רחץ “wash,” he could easily have made a guess on the basis of the verb, which he correctly translates elsewhere in LXX Pss (26[25].6; 58[57].11; 73[72].13). Instead, he renders it on the basis of an Aramaic meaning that was available to him.
The Frankel here appears to be Zecharias Frankel, in his study of the Septuagint, Vorstudien zur Septuaginta (Leipzig, 1841). I don’t know how accurate the claim is, but it’s fascinating to think that an example of :false friends" could go so far back in history.
