kodesh and kadosh

 A reader asked me to write about the Hebrew words kadosh קדוש and kodesh קודש - generally translated as "holy" and "holiness," respectively. It's taken me a few months to get to the request, because while I agree that the root קדש deserves examination, the word is so loaded with religious meaning and pervasive in Jewish liturgy and culture that I found it somewhat intimidating to tackle. 

For example, here are just a few of the important terms that derive from the root קדש:

• kiddush קידוש - the prayer and blessing over wine inaugurating Shabbat or holidays
• kedusha קדושה - the section of the repeated Amida prayer which emulates the praise angels give to God
• kaddish קדיש - the Aramaic praise of God, which is part of all prayer services, and whose recitation is part of the mourning rituals
• kiddushin קידושין - betrothal - the first step of the marriage process
• hekdesh הקדש - property consecrated to the Temple
• mikdash מקדש - the Holy Temple

And looking in the Bible, there are over 800 words deriving from the root. Daunting, no?

But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try. So I'm acknowledging that I won't touch on every aspect of the words, and perhaps I'll update this post or write another one in the future with additional insights.

Let's start by looking at the forms of the verb.

• קָדַשׁ kadash: The kal form of the verb is not commonly used today, but it does appear a number of times in the Bible. According to Klein it can either mean "was set apart, consecrated" or "was forbidden." It is interesting to note that in the two verses quoted in the Even-Shoshan dictionary for this form (Shemot 29:37 and Devarim 22:9), קדש has a negative connotation, referring to something forbidden.
• נקדש nikdash: The nifal form, the passive of the kal, is more commonly found. Klein offers "was hallowed, was sanctified" and "was consecrated, was dedicated." The former is found in Biblical Hebrew (only used to refer to God), and the latter meaning seems to have begun in the Rabbinic period.
• קִדֵּשׁ kidesh and קֻדַּשׁ kudash: The piel (active) and pual (passive) forms also mean both "to sanctify" (or be sanctified) and "to dedicate" (or was dedicated). Other meanings associated with this root are "to cleanse, purify" (as in Shemot 19:10), and then in Rabbinic Hebrew, to sanctify the Shabbat and holidays (i.e., kiddush) and to betroth (i.e., kiddushin). 
• הקדיש hikdish and הוקדש hukdash: The hifil (active) and hufal (passive) forms in Modern Hebrew mean "to dedicate, allocate, designate, devote" - with either religious or secular connotations. But in earlier periods, it could mean "was set apart as holy, regarded as holy."
• התקדש hitkadesh: In the hitpael (reflexive) form, the root means "to keep (oneself) separated" or "purified (oneself)." It can also mean "to become sanctified," and this is how it used in the Kaddish prayer, when we pray that God's name become sanctified.

We can see from these various definitions, that the root קדש has two primary connotations.

1) "to be holy", in the sense of "lofty, exalted", even "perfect", and perhaps closer to divine. This is captured well by the English word "holy" (and the related "hallow") which derive from an earlier root meaning "whole, uninjured" (and is ultimately cognate with "whole" as well.)

2) "to set apart, separate." Perhaps this meaning could better be expressed with the adjective "sacred," and the verb "sanctify", both of which derive from roots indicating separation or consecration.

There are certainly occasions where that sense overlaps with the "exalted, holy" sense. Something dedicated to God has an exalted status, and anything holy would be separate and distinct from an object without that position. But when there is no such overlap, it allows for the "forbidden" meaning in Biblical Hebrew, and the "designated" meaning in Modern Hebrew.

According to Klein's etymology, the second connotation is the original one:

Related to Ugar. qdsh (= sanctuary), Phoen. קדש (= holy), מקדש (= sanctuary, holy place), Aram.-Syr. קַדֵּשׁ (= he hallowed, sanctified, consecrated), Palm. קדש (= to sanctify, consecrate), Arab. qadusa (= was holy, was pure), quaddasa (= he hallowed, sanctified, consecrated; he went to Jerusalem), quds (= purity, holiness), al-quds (= Jerusalem; lit.: ‘the holy place’), Akka. quddushu (= to cleanse, to hallow, sanctify,), Aram.–Syr. קְדָשָׁא (= ear or nose ring; orig. ‘holy thing’). The orig. meaning of this base prob. was ‘to separate’.

This is also the view of the BDB dictionary, who writes that the original idea behind the root may have been "separation, withdrawal" and translates kodesh as "apartness, sacredness."

However, others, such as Gesenius, claim that the original meaning was connotation 1, noting that the kal form of the verb (presumably the most basic one), meant "to be pure, clean, prop. used of physical purity and cleanliness." This approach does find support in the cognates found in other Semitic languages (as quoted by Klein above.)

I'd like to end with a quote from the philosopher and theologian Rabbi Eliezer Berkovits. He wrote a lengthy essay entitled "The Concept of Holiness" in his book "Man and God: Studies in Biblical Theology." I can't review the entire essay here (I do recommend reading it), but I think the last paragraph is very profound:

In our own analysis, interest was concentrated on the meaning of the term as it is applied to God and man, but we have not lost sight of its purely ritualistic significance either. We have found that the word, holy, does not stand for divine nature in whatever way that nature is understood, it is not a mere “otiose epithet” of God; but it is a specific attribute of the deity and it is consistently used all through the Bible in that specific sense. Rather than indicating transcendence, it seems to be inseparable from the idea of immanence. Far from meaning inaccessibility, it reveals closeness and association. It is not the mysterium tremendum; if anything, it is its very opposite. 

According to Rabbi Berkovits, even if kadosh does refer to separateness, that does not mean that God is distant from us, but rather shows just how closely involved God is with humanity.

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malakh and angel

The most common English translation for the Hebrew word malach מלאך is "angel." Is that a good translation? 

Well, it depends. If you think the definition of angel is (only) a divine, celestial being, perhaps with wings and a robe, then no. But as we'll see, that's not really what a malakh or an angel originally meant.

In Biblical Hebrew, malakh simply means "messenger." It can either refer to a divine messenger (in 124 cases) or a human messenger (88 times). To indicate that the malakh is sent by God, the word is conjugated with a name of God. If we look at Bereshit 32:2-4, we see examples of both kinds of messengers:

וְיַעֲקֹב הָלַךְ לְדַרְכּוֹ וַיִּפְגְּעוּ־בוֹ מַלְאֲכֵי אֱלֹהִים׃

וַיֹּאמֶר יַעֲקֹב כַּאֲשֶׁר רָאָם מַחֲנֵה אֱלֹהִים זֶה וַיִּקְרָא שֵׁם־הַמָּקוֹם הַהוּא מַחֲנָיִם׃ 

וַיִּשְׁלַח יַעֲקֹב מַלְאָכִים לְפָנָיו אֶל־עֵשָׂו אָחִיו אַרְצָה שֵׂעִיר שְׂדֵה אֱדוֹם׃

Jacob went on his way, and angels of God [malakhei Elohim] encountered him. When he saw them, Jacob said, “This is God’s camp.” So he named that place Mahanaim. Jacob sent messengers [malakhim] ahead to his brother Esau in the land of Seir, the country of Edom.

While it is possible that Jacob sent the same angels to his brother that he encountered earlier (as Rashi writes), the plain sense of the verse is that these were human messengers (as Ibn Ezra and Radak comment.)  And there are many verses, such as Melachim I 19:2, where there is no question the malakhim are human.

Malakh derives from the root לאך, which has cognates in other Semitic languages, and means "to send." (It is not used as a verb in Hebrew, but it is used as one in Ugaritic and Arabic.) Some, like Stahl, say that לאך is related to the root הלך - "to go, to walk." The root לאך is also the origin of the word melacha מלאכה - "work, labor, craft." There are different opinions as to the connection between melacha and sending a messenger. Klein writes that melacha comes from the root meaning "to send", and therefore literally means "mission" (presumably of the person assigned to do the work.)

Others point to the phrase mishlach yad משלח יד, which literally means "sending of the hand", also means "work" (see for example Devarim 15:10,23:21). So perhaps if in that expression the laborers "send their hands" to do the work, in the parallel melacha (with the roots שלח and לאך being synonyms) maybe the hands are being sent as well.

In post-biblical Hebrew, the use of malakh began to change. It came to only mean the divine messengers, where as shaliach שליח was the term used for earthly ones. 

When the Bible was translated into Greek, a word was needed to render malakh into Greek. The word chosen was angelos, Angelos was used to refer to both human and divine messengers, as Greek didn't have a word specifically for messengers sent by God. Later the Bible was translated into Latin as well. Latin, like Greek, didn't have a word specifically for divine messengers. So those translators used the already existing Latin nuntius for human messengers (related to "nuncio" meaning envoy), and borrowed the Greek angelos for divine ones. The word angelos entered the European languages with this meaning as well. So this is how angel, in English, came to mean specifically a divine, celestial agent. 

But where does the Greek word angelos originally come from? There are a number of theories, but Klein's is particularly interesting. He says it has Semitic roots, and is cognate with familiar Hebrew words. He writes in his CEDEL:

...of Persian, ultimately of Semitic origin. Compare Akkadian agarru, 'hireling, hired laborer,' from agaru, 'to hire', which is related to Aramaic agar, eggar, 'he hired', (whence Arabic ajara, of same meaning), Hebrew iggereth, Aramaic iggera, iggarta, 'letter', properly 'message.' ... The sense development of Greek angelos [...] from a Semitic noun meaning 'hireling,' may be illustrated by the phrases 'hireling, hired messenger, messenger.'

We've actually discussed agar אגר as "to hire" before. But I didn't know then that igeret אגרת - "letter" was related to agar, and I certainly didn't know it could be related to "angel." Klein doesn't discuss the Persian bridge word between Greek and the Semitic languages, but Ben Yehuda does. He says that perhaps igeret comes from the Persian angar - meaning "story, narrative." The "n" in angar could explain the "n" in "angel" as well. From there it gets a little confusing. Perhaps the Persian was borrowed from Semitic, or maybe igeret came straight from the Semitic agar. 

In any case, igeret certainly has Persian associations, as it appears only in the books of Esther and Nechemiah (which take place in the Persian period) and in Divrei HaYamim (whose composition is also from that time.) And just like in English a messenger is one who sends a message, so too in the Semitic-Persian-Greek development of the word, it's not hard to see how igeret and angelos are connected. 

So to return to the original question - is "angel" a good translation for malakh? Well, considering both the fact that it was used specifically to translate malakh, and may even have roots in Semitic languages like Hebrew - I'd venture to say it's the perfect word for it! 

 

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maudlin and armageddon

The English word "maudlin" ultimately has a Hebrew origin. From The Online Etymology Dictionary's entry for maudlin:

c. 1600, "tearful," from Middle English fem. proper name Maudelen (early 14c.), from Magdalene (Old French Madelaine), woman's name, originally surname of Mary the repentant sinner forgiven by Jesus in Luke vii:37. In paintings, she often was shown weeping as a sign of repentance. Meaning "characterized by tearful sentimentality" is recorded by 1630s

And here is their entry for Magdalene:

fem. proper name, from Latin (Maria) Magdalena, from Greek Magdalene, literally "woman of Magdala," from Aramaic Maghdela, place on the Sea of Galilee, literally "tower."

Magdala was the name of a number of places in the Second Temple period (mentioned in both Jewish and Christian sources.) Later an Arab village, al-Majdal, preserved the name of Magdala, and in 1910, once again a Jewish town, in the same area, took up the name - Migdal.

The Aramaic Maghdela is cognate with the Hebrew migdal מגדל - "tower", and derives from the root גדל, meaning "great, large, tall", as in the word gadol גדול - "big".  There is another meaning of גדל - "twist, plait", and from here we get the synonym for tzitzit - gedilim גדילים in Devarim 22:12. Klein says they might be related, since twisting a cord makes it strong, i.e. great.

A different theory, mentioned in this entry in the Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament, says that the two meanings of גדל are not related, and in fact, suggests that migdal actually derives from degel דגל (originally meaning "to look"):

The natural identification of the word migdal as a miqtal construction from a root gdl is problematical because only Canaanite attests the root gdl in the meaning "be large, high" (cf. in contrast Arab. gadala, "twist or pull tightly, plait"), and because the context of several OT occurences (e..g Isa 5:2) does not suggest something large and high. Thus there is some reason to follow the suggest first articulated by William F. Albright that the word migdal arose through metathesis from midgal (cf. Akk. madgaltu, "watchtower, border post").

The same entry mentions that the word migdal (or migdol) was so frequent in place names in the region, that Herodotus (Histories 2:159) mistakenly describes the famous biblical Battle of Megiddo as taking place in Magdolus. The Christian Book of Revelation describes a future battle to take place at Har Megiddo - which in Greek became Armageddon.  Eventually, Armageddon took on the meaning of "a final conflict" or "the end of the world."

Zev Vilnay writes here that the place name Megiddo מגידו likely has the following origin: מגדו — מקום גדודים - "Megido - a place of troops (gedudim)". Others connect it to the word meged  מגד - "bounty" (of food).

So from the sad maudlin and the scary Armageddon, if we dig a little further, we find greatness and bounty. The optimism of etymology!

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omer

We're between Pesach and Shavuot now, the time that we "count the omer". But do we really?

Let's look at the word "omer" עומר. It has clearly different meanings in its various appearances in the Tanach. In Devarim 24:19, Rut 2:7 it is usually translated as "sheaf" - a bundle of stalks of grain. However, in the story of the mahn (manna) מן - Shemot 16:16-36, it refers to a measure of volume, one tenth of an ephah.

However, the real question is what does it mean in Vayikra 23:10-16 - the section discussing the omer offering and the subsequent counting. The Septuagint translates the word here as "sheaf" and this is also the translation of the Vulgate and most non-Jewish translations and modern scholars. However, almost all Jewish sources say that the word omer in this section is referring to the measure of volume.

This brings up a number of questions. First of all - what is the source of the disagreement? And secondly, why hasn't this question received more attention? If we look at another verse in the same section - 23:11, it discusses how the omer was brought on ממחרת השבת - the day after "shabbat". Starting with the earliest mishnaic sources, we find countless discussions about the meaning of that phrase. Does it mean a "Sunday" or the 16th of Nissan (the day following the first day of Pesach)? However, in regards to the discussion about the meaning of omer, we find very few "proofs" in Talmudic literature. Even Rashi, who clearly states in his commentary on 23:11 that omer here means "measure", doesn't bring a proof, only quotes the verse in Shmot. Why?

When approaching this issue, it is important to note at the beginning that there is a significant lack of consistency in the translation of the word. The translation "sheaf" has become so popular, that even sources that openly take the view of the Rabbis occasionally use the other translation. For example, the Artscroll siddur describes omer as the "Omer meal offering" in the section "Counting the Omer". But in their commentary on Avot 5:7, they write that the omer was "the sheaf of barley offered in the Temple". This caution may serve us in understanding earlier sources as well.

Let's start by looking at the translation "sheaf". Actually, we should be discussing the Greek word dragma δράγματα, since that's what was used in the Septuagint. While most people translate this as "sheaf", that's not the only opinion. The literal meaning of dragma is "handful". The Greek-English Lexicon defines dragma as "handful; esp. as many stalks of corn as the reaper can grasp in his left hand." Milgrom, in his Anchor Bible (page 1983) says that "handful" is a good translation based on an Egyptian painting (unfortunately, no mention of what painting). He also mentions a theory mentioned by the scholar Gustaf Dalman, and promoted by H. L. Ginsberg in The Israelian Heritage of Judaism (page 73), that the translation should be "armful" - "whatever is swathed with a sickle and swooped under the arm". If we trace the word dragma, we find that it is the origin of dram, which interestingly is also a unit of measure. I don't think that this indicates that dragma in the Septuagint meant a measure - a handful of flour. It uses a related word - draka - for that (e.g. to translate קמץ in Vayikra 2:2). But this could have led to some confusion as to the meaning of the word later.

I think it is rather difficult to separate the terms handful and sheaf. The Latin Vulgate translates omer as manipulus (the root of the word "manipulation"), which also means "handful" and "sheaf". The Syriac Peshitta translates omer in Vayikra 23:10 as kafa, as does R' Saadia Gaon in his Arabic translation to Devarim 24:19 - and I assume there's a connection between kafa and kaf (hand). And even in Hebrew the two words are related, as in Tehilim 129:7 -

שֶׁלֹּא מִלֵּא כַפּוֹ קוֹצֵר; וְחִצְנוֹ מְעַמֵּר.

"It will never fill a reaper's hand, nor an yield an armful for the gatherer of sheaves (me'amer)"

So what are the arguments of those who claim that omer in Vayikra means sheaf (or handful/armful)? Well, they would probably say that the burden of proof lies on those who want to claim otherwise. If it means sheaf - then the meaning of Vayikra 23:10 is clear:

דַּבֵּר אֶל-בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל, וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם, כִּי-תָבֹאוּ אֶל-הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אֲנִי נֹתֵן לָכֶם, וּקְצַרְתֶּם אֶת-קְצִירָהּ--וַהֲבֵאתֶם אֶת-עֹמֶר רֵאשִׁית קְצִירְכֶם, אֶל-הַכֹּהֵן.

"Speak to the Israelite people and say to them: When you enter the land that I am giving you and you reap its harvest, you shall bring the first sheaf [omer] of your harvest to the priest" (JPS translation)

But if omer is a unit of measure - then what exactly is being measured?

The Rabbis in their description of the omer service (Mishna Menachot chapter 10), complete the picture by integrating the offering described in Vayikra 2:14

וְאִם-תַּקְרִיב מִנְחַת בִּכּוּרִים, לַה'--אָבִיב קָלוּי בָּאֵשׁ, גֶּרֶשׂ כַּרְמֶל, תַּקְרִיב, אֵת מִנְחַת בִּכּוּרֶיךָ.

The JPS translates this as, "If you bring a meal offering of first fruits to the Lord, you shall bring new ears parched with fire, grits of the fresh grain, as your meal offering of first fruits". Levine in his JPS commentary points out that some of the same words appear in Vayikra 23:14 (קלוי, כרמל) and continues:

The similarity of our text to 23:14-17 has raised the question as to whether both texts are speaking of the same offerings. Both are called bikkurim, "first fruits", and most traditional commentators, including Rashi and Ramban, have argued for the identity of the two laws.

Rashi writes that the word "ki" should be read as "when", not as "if", making it the mandatory offering we find in chapter 23.

However, a number of challenges can be brought to show why these are two different offerings:

1) This article notes that in Vayikra 2, all the other offerings are voluntary, and none are calendar based. That makes it less likely that this one offering would be mandatory and brought at a specific time.

2) This article (page 374 in the original pagination) points out that in Vayikra 23:10, we find the phrase "omer reishit". The author points out that like all first fruits, they should be viewed not as a mincha (meal offering), but rather as a korban (sacrifice). However, Milgrom (quoted above) says that reishit actually refers to processed fruits:

The priestly texts distinguish very clearly between bikkurim and reshit (Num 18:12-13; cf. Ezek 44:30; Neh 10:36,38). The former is designated as first-ripened fruits; the latter as first-processed fruits. Thus the first of the grain kernels, wine and oil (Num 18:12) as well as fruit syrup (Lev 2:11-12; 2 Chr 31:5), leaven (Lev 2:11-12) and dough (Num 15:20-21; Neh 10:38) are termed reshit. Hence this term could not be applied to standing grain. Since it also cannot denote first ripe fruits, a meaning reserved for bikkurim, it takes on the connotation "first" in a temporal sense - the very first 'omer to be harvested.

While Milgrom clearly believes that the offering was a sheaf, I think that his arguments could actually be used to prove that the offering was processed grain - flour - as the rabbis claim.

3) Rav David Tzvi Hoffman writes that many of the menachot (meal offerings) were one tenth of an ephah - why weren't they called omer? And even in the section dealing with the omer offering, we find the mention of two tenths of an ephah (23:13) - וּמִנְחָתוֹ שְׁנֵי עֶשְׂרֹנִים - why isn't it called here "two omers" שְׁנֵי הָעֹמֶר as in Shmot 16:22?

In fact, even some of the Jewish commentaries such as Ibn Ezra and Shadal say that the plain meaning of Vayikra 2:14 is referring to a voluntary offering.

One interesting "proof" is brought by the Academy of the Hebrew Language in their pamphlet about the three festivals. They point out a comparison between the omer offering, and the Shavuot offering 50 days later. If we explain the word according to the understanding of the rabbis, we see a nice parallel between the two first fruit offerings:

. Omer Shavuot . grain brought barley wheat . form brought flour bread . amount 1 tenth of ephah 2 tenths of ephah

So if we view the omer offering as the beginning of a process, and the Shavuot offering as its culmination, then it makes sense that the omer would be a measure of flour - not a sheaf.

One other potential proof of the omer meaning here a tenth of an ephah comes from a comparison between the mahn and the omer offering. But we'll discuss that later.

An interesting third option is presented by Rabbi David Zvi Hoffman in his commentary on Vayikra 23:10 (quoted partially here by Nechama Leibowitz, and the full original German is here). He has difficulty accepting either the explanation of omer as "sheaf" or "measure" in this verse. He then quotes the Sifra on Emor (156):

והניף את העומר לפני ה' (ויקרא כג, יא) – ג' שמות יש לו: "עומר שבלים", "עומר תנופה", "עומר" שמו

The omer has three names: omer of the ears of grain, omer that is waved and omer as such.

R' Hoffman explains (based on the Raavad, and a similar view found in the Vilna Gaon's commentary) the Sifra as saying that in addition to the understanding of omer as sheaf ("ears of grain") in Devarim and Rut, and omer as a measure ("omer as such") in Shmot - the verses in Vayikra are talking about an independent third meaning - "omer that is waved". He writes that omer he should be translated as "gift" or "levy". He quotes Fleischer as saying that the Hebrew word meches מכס, meaning "tax, levy" has an Arabic cognate meaning "oppress", and so omer as "levy" could be cognate with the Hebrew verb עמר, which is also explained as meaning "oppress" (Devarim 21:14, 24:7).

While this theory helps avoid the conflict between the two prominent explanations of "omer", there are some serious issues. First of all, the Malbim in his commentary shows how all three names for omer mentioned in the Sifra are referring to Vayikra: "Omer as such" refers to the volume of the offering, "omer of the ears of grain" relates to how the grain was cut for the offering, and "omer that is waved" refers to the special requirement of waving that is only found with the omer meal offering (and that of the sotah).

However, there's even a bigger issue regarding R' Hoffman's interpretation - what was actually brought as the offering? His commentary seems to indicate that he follows the mishna, and that it was a meal offering, not a sheaf. So in the end, he too ends up on one side of the debate.

If R' Hoffman tried to split the word omer into three meanings, Abarbanel does the opposite. He writes that the verse in Vayikra is probably talking about a sheaf, but the yield of one sheaf of barley is approximately one tenth of an ephah. So by saying that the two meanings share a common etymology, he defuses the controversy - omer means both. This suggestion is also offered by Bechor Shor, Shadal on Shmot 16:36, and Mandelkern in his concordance.

I'm not sure whether or not the two meanings of omer have an etymological connection. Klein seems to indicate they don't. For omer as sheaf, he says it is "a metathesized form of ערם" - a verb meaning "to heap, pile". Gesenius writes that "heap" is the "primary sense of the Hebrew word", and HALOT goes so far as to say that sheaf should not be used for omer at all, but is reserved for aluma אלומה. (Mandelkern disagrees and writes that omer is connected to the Arabic word for coerce – so one forces all the stalks together and binds them in to a sheaf.)

As far as omer as a measure, Klein connects it to the Arabic ghumr - a small bowl (perhaps based on Driver). However, this site quotes the Dictionary of Modern Written Arabic as having the entry "غمر (ghumr) which means armful". We've seen before that armful is nearly identical with "sheaf", so this might mean the meanings have a common origin. And Steinberg writes that omer as measure might also derive from the root ערם - a "piled up measure".

Whether or not omer as sheaf and measure derive from a common root, I don't think it's as reasonable to say that they share a common meaning in the Torah. Omer as sheaf is measured, but not by the yield. In Masechet Peah, we find the laws of shichecha שכחה - the forgotten sheaves that are left for the poor (mentioned in Devarim 24:19 that we've quoted above). Mishna 6:6 says:

העומר שיש בו סאתיים, ושכחו--אינו שכחה
A sheaf which contains two se'ahs and was forgotten is not [considered to be] shichecha

The Yerushalmi explains:

א"ר אלעזר כתיב (דברים כב) כי תקצור קצירך בשדך ושכחת עומר בשדה עומר שאתה יכול לפשוט ידך וליטלו

Said Rabbi Elazar, "It is written (Devarim 24:19), 'When you reap the harvest in your field, and overlook a sheaf (omer) in the field [do not turn back to get it]' [This law refers to] a sheaf that you can reach back with your hand and take [but a sheaf too large for you to take your hand is not included in this law]

I think this law is very much in tune with the association we have seen between sheaf and handful that we have seen in many languages, including Hebrew. So if an omer meant any kind of measurement, it meant "a handful" (according to the mishna, not more than two se'ahs, and see this article as to why this is a question of volume, not weight).

So how do we resolve this issue? I think the answer lies in the fact that omer always appears in the Torah in an unusual manner. Why not just say isaron עשרון or tenth of an ephah when describing the mahn? Why not call it an aluma in Devarim? And most importantly, why use an ambiguous word in Vayikra?

I believe the Torah is trying to give us a message by using words this way. Had the word aluma been used in Vayikra, we would never have made any association between this offering and the mahn. But as these articles by Rabbi Frand, Rabbi Tzvi Shalva, and particularly by Erel Sharf (mentioned here, with a link to the ZIP file here) there is a very deep connection between the two.

They note that the mahn stopped the day they were obligated to bring the omer (Yehoshua 5:11-12). And Sharf writes that the purpose of the mahn was to help us realize that everything is from God – in the desert that meant all food was from Him. In the Land of Israel, there was human involvement via agriculture, but we still need to remember our dependence on God. So the word omer was used (according to Sharf an actual measure, but the message would still work if it meant sheaf but brought up the memory of the mahn.)

Similarly, immediately following the description of the omer offering are the mitzvot of peah and leket (already mentioned in chapter 19), which bring up the association of the mitzva forgetting the omer in the field (shichecha), which all emphasize passivity–and remind of the same educational message –that the land belongs to God. So with the use of one word, we are taught deep lessons about a number of commandments.

Now we can return to our second question - why did the issue of the meaning of omer receive less attention than the issue of the when the omer was brought? I think this is because the question of what omer meant was an issue of peshat vs derash (literal meaning vs exegisis) - but not a question of what was actually done. The Oral Law determined that a barley flour was offered as the omer, and that seems to have been widely accepted.

I have seen here and there sources that say that the Sadducees or other groups claimed that a sheaf should be brought. But I haven't found them very convincing. They are primarily based on the writings of Philo, does not describe the offering in detail - only calling it "the offering of the first ears, the sacred sheaf (dragma)" (2.11.41). But what did Philo base this on? Was it his understanding of the Torah or was he simply influenced by the Septuagint? Did he witness the sheaf being offered or have testimony as such, or was this a kind of misreading as we saw with Artscroll above?

In any case, Philo's contemporary, Josephus, also uses the term dragma to describe the offering, but then goes on to follow the opinion of the Rabbis:

They take a handful / sheaf (dragma) of the ears, and dry them, then beat them small, and purge the barley from the bran; they then bring one tenth deal to the altar, to God; and, casting one handful (draka) of it upon the fire, they leave the rest for the use of the priest.

So while the peshat of the verse in Vayikra may be talking about offering a sheaf, I think the halacha should clearly be a measure of volume.

Now that we know what the omer is (I hope!), it should be clear that there was only one omer offered, on the 16th of Nisan. The truth is that before I started researching this, I might have thought that an omer was offered each of the 49 days (and I've found a number of publications - 1, 2, 3 - who've made that mistake.) But aside from the verses themselves, the midrash in Vayikra Rabba 28 emphasizes how only one omer was brought:

R. Berachyah taught: The Holy One, blessed is He, said to Moshe: "Go and remind Israel that when I gave them the manna, I gave each and every one of them the measure of an omer, as the verse (Shemot 16:16) states: An omer for each person. But now that you offer the omer, I receive only one omer from all of you together!"

So if there is only one omer (per year), how do we "count the omer"? That should be a pretty short count - one!

The confusion is due to the unusual phrase "sefirat haomer" ספירת העומר that we find in the blessing recited before counting. I did a search of all Talmudic literature in the database of the Academy of the Hebrew Language, and only found it once - in Yerushalmi Megillah 2:6 -73c (the Bar-Ilan database also has it in Midrash Tanaim Devarim 16, but R' Hoffman corrects it to read "k'tzirat haomer" קצירת העומר). I then found a fascinating article by Prof. David Henshke called - מניין לספירת העומר מן התורה? (printed in the Sefer Hayovel for Rabbi Mordechai Breuer). He discusses when the practice of counting the omer verbally began. And discusses there how that source in the Yerushalmi should be viewed as being edited in much later. So the phrase was probably coined at the time of the Geonim.

If sefirat haomer doesn't mean "counting the omer" - what does it mean? I looked for other constructs with "sefirat" followed by a noun. One of the only ones I found was in Mishna Zavim 1:2, where it says l'sefirat zovo לספירת זובו, which means "counting after his flux". This seems like a very reasonable way to understand sefirat haomer as well, and in fact, we see that R' Louis Jacobs made that correction:

This practice is known as "counting the Omer," although, as we have seen, it is actually counting from the Omer.

(Noting that we count from the omer helps us to understand the disagreement between those who end their counting with la'omer לעומר vs those who end with ba'omer בעומר. The Taz 489 explains the Rama's position for saying ba'omer by saying that we count "in" the first day. But the Chok Yaakov says that only applies to the first day, not the entire counting period. The Shaarei Teshuva adds that the prefix lamed can indicate "from", as in Bamidbar 1.1 - בְּאֶחָד לַחֹדֶשׁ הַשֵּׁנִי בַּשָּׁנָה הַשֵּׁנִית, לְצֵאתָם מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם - "in the first day of the second month in the second year after they came out of the land of Egypt".)

I have found the form "to count the omer" לספור העומר in a number of Rishonim (Abudraham, Sefer HaAgur, Sefer HaIttur, the Ran and the Tur) and it is codified in the Shulchan Aruch (Orach Chayim 489:1 - interestingly the Kitzur Shulchan Aruch corrects it to לספור ספירת העומר.)

Why is it so common (and so comfortable) to make this error? I think it is due to the mulitple uses of the semichut (construct) form in Hebrew. I've recently heard a number of people say in Hebrew (or in English translation) that they blessed the trees (בירכתי את האילנות) or that they blessed the sun (בירכתי את החמה). This is based on a misunderstanding of the phrases birkat ha'ilanot ברכת האילנות and birkat hachama ברכת החמה - they blessed God, not the trees or the sun. However, not all is lost, as few people would say that the were going to bless the food (לברך את המזון) when they are going to say birkat hamazon ברכת המזון.

The different uses of semichut led to this cute joke in Hebrew (sorry, but really won't work in translation):

ב"הפסקת עישון"- כולם מעשנים.

ב"הפסקת אוכל"- כולם אוכלים.

ב"הפסקת קפה"- כולם שותים.

אחר כך מתפלאים ש...

ב"הפסקת אש"-כולם יורים.

To conclude, I'd like to mention Henshke's interesting idea that there was no verbal sefirat haomer in the times of the Temple (and even after - he writes that it only began when the calendar was made static). He brings a popular question as to why sefirat haomer is followed by a prayer for the rebuilding of the temple, when other mitzvot that are also in memory of the Temple (like lulav on the last 6 days of sukkot) do not have such a prayer. He writes that perhaps sefirat haomer is unique because the entire practice was initiated in memory of the Temple; it wasn't performed at that time at all.

Today we have no omer offering - only the counting. But we can at least study what was done, and try to be as familiar with the omer offering as if we were living in those times...

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nechshal

In my post on shevach, I mentioned the Yiddish word shvach, which derives from the German schwach, meaning "weak". Since German and English are related languages, I tried to find an English cognate to the German. The closest thing I found was the obscure Scottish word "swack", mentioned here:

Swack, to deal a heavy blow; akin to the vulgar English whack, to beat severely; a swashing blow, a heavy blow; etymology uncertain. The Teutonic schwach, has an opposite meaning, though there may be some connection of idea between a heavy blow and a blow that weakens him on whom it falls.

A parallel term in English would be "beat" - meaning both "to strike" (as a verb), and "worn out, tired" (as an adjective.)

Hebrew might also have an example. The root חשל appears once in the Bible (Devarim 25:18), where it means "weakened, lagging":

אֲשֶׁר קָרְךָ בַּדֶּרֶךְ, וַיְזַנֵּב בְּךָ כָּל-הַנֶּחֱשָׁלִים אַחֲרֶיךָ--וְאַתָּה, עָיֵף וְיָגֵעַ

"When they encountered you on the way, and you were tired and exhausted, they cut off those lagging (hanecheshalim) to your rear"

Tigay, in the JPS Devarim writes (note 57):

Medieval Hebrew grammarians took the term to mean either "broken", based on Aramaic h-sh-l, "crush" (the verb is now known in Akkadian, too)

This is the view of Steinberg as well. Interestingly, from this sense of חשל we get the opposite of weak. Klein writes that the Aramaic and Akkadian "to crush" led to Hebrew "to forge, hammer, shape, mold", which in Modern Hebrew became "to strengthen".

However, Tigay continues:

or "weakened", taking the root h-sh-l חשל as a metathesized form of h-l-sh חלש, "be weak"

This is the view of Ibn Ezra, as well as Klein, who does not connect the two senses of חשל at all.

An additional theory is proposed in a footnote to the Ibn Ezra in the Torat Chaim edition by Asher Weiser, that נחשל could be related to נכשל / כשל - "stumble, fail, be weak (see Tehillim 31:11)". Kaddari quotes this view as well.

So again, we have what appears to be one root - חשל - with opposite meanings - weak and strong. But a careful examination of the development of the meanings shows that this isn't some unusual phenomenon in Hebrew where words take on opposite meanings, but rather an understandable evolution of meaning that appears in many languages.

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zecher and zachar

This shabbat is Parshat Zachor, where we must remember (זכור) what Amalek did to us on our way out of Egypt. Is there any connection between zecher זכר - "remembrance, memory" and zachar זכר - "male"?

Klein says that some scholars make a connection. They claim that the root זכר originally meant "to pierce". From here we get the concept of memory - "to pierce" -> "to fix in one's mind" -> "to remember". Zachar as "male" is anatomically associated with piercing (think of the biological symbol for male), just as the word for "female", nekeva נקבה - is related to נקב - "to puncture, pierce".

Steinberg points out that the Aramaic for זכר is דכר, which is related to דקר - also "to pierce".

Until fairly recently I confused zachar and zachor: I mistakenly thought the Friday night gathering before a brit was a shalom zachor (connected to rememberance) and not shalom zachar (welcoming the male child).

From the gemara in Bava Batra 21b, we see that Yoav made a similar mistake. It says there that:

David sent his commander Yoav to fight Edom, and Yoav killed all the males. David asked why he did that, and Yoav answered because of the pasuk *Timche et Zachar Amalek (you shall wipe out all of the MALES of Amalek - Devarim [Deuteronomy] 25:19). David ... explained that it's Zecher Amalek (...the MEMORY of Amalek) , not Zachar.

Rav Mordechai Breuer here quotes Rav Meshulam Roth as saying that this story is hard to accept. How could Yoav have confused zachar and zecher? And here it was in the construct state (smichut) - so it would have been zchar amalek - even further away from zecher! But Rav Roth continues that there are some words where in the construct state they become like zecher - for example, ashan עָשָן becomes eshen עֶשֶן. So from here he learns that Yoav learned the word zecher with two segol marks. Had he learned it correctly, withe a tzerei instead of the first segol, he wouldn't have made the mistake. This is important, for there is a rabbinic disagreement as to whether the word zecher is with two segol marks, or one tzerei and one segol. Rav Breuer's article states that we must be faithful to the Masoretic text, which indicates the word should be marked with the tzerei - and reading the verse twice casts doubts on this text and should not be done!

Rav Breuer passed away this week. A number of bloggers have written about him: see here, here, here and here for example. During my time in Yeshivat HaKibbutz HaDati I merited hearing Rav Breuer speak on a number of occasions. I was always impressed with his sharp wit, his unbending passion for truth and his originality that was so convincing you couldn't believe you never thought of it before. I have since purchased his books Pirkei Moadot and Pirkei Bereshit, and have continued to learn much from them.

In 1998 the magazine Deot had an interview with him. To explain his method of study, he gave the following example:

There was a disagreement between the Sages as to whether the mezuza should be placed horizontally or vertically. As a compromise, it was placed on an angle.

The lesson to be learned from this, is that if one was to come and look at the mezuza without knowing the background, he would think that it was placed on an angle as the ideal state. But someone who knows the story, is aware that there is nothing ideal about the angle, but the significance lies in the disagreement between the horizontal and vertical positions.

This insight has much to do with what I'm trying to do with this site. Everyone can see the mezuza on an angle - I'm trying to see the back story, how it should be seen as both vertical and horizontal - concurrently! (This is why you should excuse any apparent contradictions in my writing...)

Rav Breuer's daughter, Elisheva was the ulpan teacher in the yeshiva, in my first year out of high school. My knowledge of Hebrew was practically zero. I don't remember particular lessons from her class, but I'm sure some of my passion for Hebrew comes from her. And her husband, Rav Avia Hacohen was my Torah and Tanach teacher - and again, much of my love of learning the Bible derives from his teaching.

May the memory of Rav Breuer be a blessing, and may his family be comforted in the building of Tzion.

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mechila

Unlike selicha, which refers specifically to sin, mechila (or mechilah) מחילה has more a more secular meaning as well. The root מחל first appears in Rabbinic Hebrew where it can mean "to remit (a debt)" or "to forgo (one's honor)". It also does carry the sense of "to forgive, to pardon".

Klein states that the etymology is unknown, but Jastrow, Steinberg and others connect it to the root מחה. The complication here is that מחה has many meanings, which may or may not all be connected (for example see Malachim II 21:13, where different meanings of the root play on one another).

The meaning of מחה that most likely led to מחל is "to wipe, wipe out", which also has the sense of "to blot out, destroy". We see this sense in the famous commandment תִּמְחֶה אֶת-זֵכֶר עֲמָלֵק - "wipe out the memory of Amalek".

Another meaning of מחה is "to strike upon". Kutscher points out that this root is related to three other Hebrew and Aramaic roots: מחא , מחק and מחץ . This site summarizes Kutscher's Hebrew article:

There are also genuine Aramaic words which have passed into Hebrew, sometimes in several forms. The Hebrew makhatz (“crush”) is found in the Bible (Judges 5:26), while its ancient Aramaic form is מחק (makhak). In a subsequent period, the same Aramaic root was taken over again into Hebrew in a later form מחא (macho – “to clap hands”), and finally re-entered Mishnaic Hebrew, changing both form and meaning as מחה (machot – “to protest,” actually by clapping the hand). Thus one finds in Israeli Hebrew a single Semitic root in four variations ….

We see that the root מחק also has the meaning "to rub out, erase". The author of the Avinu Malkeinu prayer seemingly noticed the connection between three of these roots:

אבינו מלכנו, סלח ומחל לכל עונותינו
אבינו מלכנו, מחה והעבר פשעינו וחטאתינו מנגד עיניך
אבינו מלכנו, מחוק ברחמיך הרבים כל שטרי חובותינו

"...forgive and pardon all our iniquities"
"...wipe away and remove our willful sins..."
"...erase through Your abundant compassion"

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