Etymologies of the Hebrew Calendar

Etymologies of the Hebrew Calendar

By Dan D.Y. Shapira

Dan (or, Dan D.Y.) Shapira is an Orientalist and grows more than fifty trees on the edge of the Judaean Desert. He’s a Full Professor at Bar-Ilan University.

The month of Nisan begins the Hebrew year. Its name comes, ultimately, from Sumerian nisag (nig, “thing,” + sag (“head/first”), “first fruits” at about the spring equinox, via Akkadian and / or Aramaic. It should be observed that the names of the months in Sumerian were different from those used later in Akkadian.

It is not completely clear whether חודש האביב, “the month of green ears of young barley,” was the name of this month, and not its appellation.

Then comes Iyyar, from Akkadian itiAyari, “blossom.” In the Babylonian calendar its name was Araḫ Āru (Araḫ = yeraḥ, ירח), which also meant “month of blossoming.”

The name of the month Sivan comes from Akkadian simānu, “season; time.”

This word can be the source of Aramaic > Late Biblical Hebrew and Mishnaic and Talmudic Hebrew zeman, זמן. However, this etymology poses a huge historical problem, because of similarity to Iranian zaman, with Avestan (the language of the Avesta, the Zoroastrian holy corpus) zruuan-, “time,” and with the Iranian “deity” Zurvān, the primordial time-space, from whose good thought Ahura Mazda / Ohrmazd, the benevolent actor, and from whose doubt in his own thought Angra Mainyu / Ahriman, the malevolent actor, were “born.”

The evidence in various Semitic languages demonstrates that zeman has different phonetic forms: Aramaic had both zeban and zeman, Syriac Aramaic zabnā, Mandaic Aramaic zaman and zban, Arabic both zamn and zamān, and Ethiopian Semitic languages have zaman, zäbän (Tigre), zämän (Amharic, Tigriñña and Gurage), and Mehri, an indirect continuation of Ancient South Arabian, has both zemōn and zubōn.

The name of Tammuz comes from the Assyrian and Babylonian month Araḫ Dumuzu, named after the Mesopotamian deity Dumuzid, a dying and reviving deity, mentioned in Ezekiel 8:14 (“Then he brought me to the door of the gate of the Lord’s house which was toward the north; and, behold, there sat women weeping for Tammuz”; KJV).

Ab / Av comes from Abu, meaning “reed”; the name מנחם אב is a later invention, because of the calamities of this month and the hope of redemption to occur in this month.

Elul has its name from Araḫ Ulūlu “harvest month” in the Babylonian calendar; in the Babylonian calendar (and in some later calendars derived from it), Ulūlu was used as a leap month (the function of Adār II with the Jews).

Tishrei / Tishri has its name from Akkadian tašrītu, “beginning,” as this month was opening the second half of the year (the verbal root ŠRY exists also in Hebrew and Aramaic). Now we celebrate the יום תרועה as Jewish New Year.

Marcheshvan / Marḥešvan comes from Akkadian waraḫ šamnu, “eighth month”; in Hebrew, the Akkadian name was divided incorrectly into war- > mar- / ḫašamnu > ḫašvan, provided with a Volketymologie (the Bitter Cheshvan).

Kislev, from Babylonian Kislimu, meaning possibly “thick mud,” and associated in Babylon with the cult of Nergal, deity of the Netherworld, plague, and war. In the Jewish tradition, this months is associated with dreams.

Tevet / Ṭēḇēṯ, from Akkadian ṭebētu, the “muddy month.”

Shebat / Shvat (Šeḇāṭ) comes from the Babylonian Šabāṭu, meaning “strike,” and referring to the heavy rains; this is one of the two Babylonian months directly mentioned in the Bible (Zechariah 1:7), besides Adār.

Adār has its name derived from the Babylonian Araḫ Addaru, “month of harvest.”

It is generally assumed that these month names were adopted into the Hebrew calendar during the sixth century BCE Babylonian captivity of the Jews. Month names from the Babylonian calendar appear not only in the Hebrew calendar, but also in the Mandaean, Modern Assyrian, or Syriac, calendar, in the Syriac calendar proper, and in the names of half of the month used in Türkiye and in many Arab-speaking countries (along with Islamic and Gregorian calendars).

In these calendars, for example in the Arabic secular calendar, Tišrīn al-ʾAwwal (the First Tišrīn) stands for October, Tišrīn aṯ-Ṯānī (the Second Tišrīn) stands for November, Kānūn al-ʾAwwal (the First [month of] heating utensil) stands for December, Kānūn aṯ-Ṯānī (the Second [month of] heating utensil) stands for January, Šubāṭ is February, ʾĀḏār is March, Naysān is April, ʾAyyār is May, Ḥazīrān (month of Boar, the Syrius star) is June, Tammūz is July, ʾĀb is August, ʾAylūl is September. These names are based closely on the names in Syriac Aramaic.

In the Bible, several Phoenician-Canaanite month names are used: Ziv, “glow” = Iyyar; Ethanim = Tishrei; Bul = Marcheshvan / Marḥešvan. These names are only mentioned in connection with the building of the First Temple these names may be attributed to the presence of Phoenician scribes in Solomon’s court at the time of the building of the Temple.

There are movements in Lebanon trying to revive the Phoenician Language and Phoenician-Canaanite paganism; they use these months names known from the Bible and from Phoenician and Punic inscriptions, with Pegarim (month of the cult of the dead) for Elul, etc.




Hayyim ben Benjamin Ze’ev Bochner: Kabbalist, Talmudist, and Grammarian

Hayyim ben Benjamin Ze’ev Bochner: Kabbalist, Talmudist, and Grammarian

by Marvin J. Heller[1]

Hayyim ben Benjamin Ze’ev Bochner (c. 1610–84), a multi-faceted individual, was the author of varied works reflecting diverse contemporary intellectual interests. His books are both independent works and commentaries on earlier titles. A Kabbalist, Talmudist, and grammarian, Bochner wrote on these subjects as well as annotating numerous other works.

Born in Cracow, Bochner’s family was one of that city’s wealthiest Jewish families, owners of a stone mansion and two adjoining stores on Casimir place, a street otherwise without Jews. A student of R. Israel Seligman Ganz (1541-1613) in nigleh (revealed Torah) and of R. Jacob Temerls (Jacob Ashkenazi, d. 1666) in nistar (concealed Torah – Kabbalah), Bochner married the former’s daughter. Upon his father’s death in 1647, Bochner inherited a share in the family business and property. He elected, however, in order to further pursue his studies, to forgo his portion of the business and the properties in lieu of a life-long weekly allowance, selling his share to his three brothers a a sister. Initially, Bochner opened a free rabbinical school and associated with several renowned scholars, among them R. Lipmann Heller. Bochner, however, was subsequently called to serve as rabbi and head of the bet din in Ebenfurth and afterwards in Lackenbach in Austria, maintaining a yeshiva in both locations. He later relocated to Vienna, remaining there until the expulsion of the Jews from that city in 1670. His final residence was in in Fürth, Bavaria, where he passed away on Feb. 2, 1684.[2][3]

Bochner was a Talmudic scholar, reflected in his works. His primary lifetime occupation was writing, editing, and publishing books.[4] In this article we first address books which Bochner authored or seriously annotated, followed by other titles which he edited or annotated to a lesser extent. We begin with Orhot Hayyim published in 1654.

I

Orhot Hayyim – Bochner based his first composition of consequence, Orhot Hayyim, on the Minhagim of R. Isaac Tyrnau (1c. 1380/85-1439/52); it is an abridgment and annotation of that popular work. Orhot Hayyim was published in Cracow in 1654 at the press of Menahem Nahum ben Moses Meisels. It is a small book, a quarto in format (40: [10] ff.). The Meisels’ press was established in 1630, acquiring the typographical equipment that had previously belonged to the Prostitz press. In addition to that acquisition, Meisels had new letters cast in Venice. Meisels’ publications reflect the Prague style, likely due to the influence of his manager, Judah ha-Kohen of Prague. Meisels received a privilege from King Sigismund III Vasa, later reconfirmed by King Ladislaus IV Vasa and the town authorities.[5]

Isaac Tyrnau’s Minhagim was very popular at its time and remains so today. In the Bet Eked Sepharim, Ch. B. 2Friedberg records thirty-two editions of that work, beginning with a 1566 Venice printing though an 1880-88 Munkatch edition, including commentaries and Yiddish translations.[6] Minhagim, a compilation of customs written in the mid-fifteenth century, records the religious conventions and practices of central European Jewry for the entire year.[7]

Tyrnau was born in the Hungarian city of Tyrnau (now in Slovakia) or in Vienna, but later resided in Tyrnau, Austria. He was a student of R. Abraham Klausner, R. Shalom ben Isaac of Neustadt (Sar Shalom), and R. Aaron of Neustadt (Blumlein). Tyrnau later served as rabbi in Pressburg. An interesting digression. It is reported that Tyrnau’s beautiful daughter was kidnaped by the crown prince of Hungary who fell in love with her and subsequently renounced the crown and converted to Judaism. The prince went to study Judaism with Sephardic rabbis, returned to Hungary and had a clandestine marriage with Tyrnau’s daughter. He continued to study, with Tyrnau. Catholic priests, however, accidentally became aware of the prince’s situation, and demanded that he return to Catholicism. Upon his refusal, he was burned at the stake and the Jews were expelled from Tyrnau.[8]

The title page of Orhot Hayyim notes the inclusion of material from the Zohar and is dated, in the year, quiet השקט in the month Menahem (Av) (414 = July/August, 1654). Bochner’s abridgment of Tyrnau’s Minhagim is described on the title page as:

Abridged Minhagim of the gaon R. Eizek Tyrnau with the annotations and many laws collected from the work of the great gaon R. Moses Isserles (Rema, Shulhan Arukh) of which the eyes of all Israel behold and from whose waters they drink and according to whom the halakhah is determined everywhere in these lands and by whom we live and from other poskim who have gathered in their hands the spirit of God. . . . All the customs and laws of the entire year done and mentioned, all the order of prayers and [birkat ha-mazon], piyyutim and yozerot (liturgical poetry), reading of the parashiot and haftarot, all explained. This book includes only that which every man does not know well. . . .

On the verso of the title page is Bochner’s introduction, where he writes that he has written this work because he has seen that the hearts of people are much troubled due to the many hardships and bitterness that have befallen us in our exile, harsh and bitter, in which we have forgotten many customs which are not so frequent. Bochner continues that the gaon [R. Isaac Tyrnau] ז”ל arranged them correctly albeit in a new order, found in most siddurim (prayer books). Nevertheless, it appears to him that they are not understood by all due to their length and errors occur in many matters. Bochner remarks that many entries are not arranged in order but rather are scattered here and there so that it is not easy to locate them. Also, in some instances, they are located in a new entry, others in the applicable laws. With the result that many people, of varying stature, lesser and greater “are astray in the land” (cf. Exodus 14:3) and in doubt about many customs and laws, as Tyrnau brings different opinions that are inconsistent with each other. Furthermore, the gaon, the Rema (R. Moses Isserles, 1530-72) who came after Tyrnau, made great effort as to “search Jerusalem with lamps” (cf. Zephania 1:12) for all the customs related to Ashkenazim. Many customs are found in the Shulhan Arukh that are not among the customs of Tyrnau. Bochner notes that the world is accustomed to follow the decisions of Tyrnau when in truth they should follow the Rema whose rulings they have “ordained and taken upon” (Esther 9:27) themselves to follow. So that there should not be two Torahs he has therefore arranged it with that in mind. He has entitled the book Orhot Hayyim so that one should know the way of life (Orhot Hayyim).

1654, Orhot Hayyim, Cracow

Courtesy of the Jewish National and University Library

There are approbations from R. Gershon Saul Yom Tov, called Lippman ben Nathan ha-Levi Heller, and R. Isaac ben Abraham Moses Israel Eilenberg, a listing of the contents, and the text in two columns in rabbinic type, excepting 7a-b which are primarily in one column. Pages have the heading dinei from the book Orhot Hayyim. Isaac Yudlov observes that the text, as suggested above, is an abridgement of Isaac Tyrnau’s Minhagim with annotations and additions from the Rema’s Shulhan Aruk.[9]

There is only one incomplete edition that survives. It was part of Mehlman and now in NLI. Thus, all of the reprints are also incomplete. It was also republished in 2003, (Zikhron Aaron, Jerusalem), with Or Hadash. It is preceeded by a of part of Yudolov’s article that appeared in Moriah discussing the unicum and Bochner. Apparently Orhot Hayyim was not reprinted for several hundred years. the Jewish National and University Library catalogue records two later editions, that is Jerusalem 1994 and Brooklyn 2006. The former is incomplete, that is, selected portions of Orhot Hayyim, the second not seen.

Luah ha-HayyimOur next Bochner title is Luah ha-Ha-Hayyim, a popular medical work on dietetics. Published in 1669 in Prague by Judah ben Jacob Bak. It too is a small work, quarto in format (40: 4 ff.). The Bak press was a printing house of note, founded by Jacob ben Gershom Bak (d. 1618) in 1605; eight generations of the Bak family printed Hebrew books in Prague until the beginning of the nineteenth century. Jacob Bak was succeeded by his sons Joseph and Judah who, from 1623, printed under the name Benei (sons of) Jacob Bak. After Joseph left the firm in 1660, Judah printed alone until August, 1669, when a libel suit caused a temporary cessation in printing. Two years after Judah’s death (1671), in October, 1673, his sons Jacob and Joseph were permitted to restart the press, afterwards publishing books with Hebrew letters until 1696 under the name Benei Judah Bak.

1669, Luah ha-Hayyim, Prague

Courtesy of the Jewish National and University Library

The first text page has a heading and introductory paragraph in place of a title page, stating that:

It shall be health to your navel” (proverbs 3:8), etc. For to the Lord, “For they are life to those who find them, and health to all their flesh” (Proverbs 4:22).

Concise rules of behavior for a person for medical purposes, to maintain bodily health. This is a great principle in the service of the Rock, may His name be blessed. For the public good it is being published anew by R. Hayyim Bochner of Cracow. And it is ישקיט (429 = 1669). “For this was the custom in former times in Israel” (Ruth 4:7) and it has received approbations from the leading physicians. All these things are correct, “and right to those who find knowledge” (Proverbs 8:9) and thereby merit.

Below this brief header are approbations of two doctors, Dr. Solomon and Dr. Mattathias, both of Lublin, followed by the text, in two columns in rabbinic type with enlarged initial words in square letters. Luah ha-Hayyim, brought to press by Bochner, is frequently attributed to a R. Raphael by distinguished bibliographers such as Isaac Benjacob and Moritz 4Steinschneider, who note that Raphael’s name is formed by an acrostic of the initial letters of the first line, רבות פעמים אשר לקטתי .[10]

Luah ha-Hayyim provides dietary advice, such as not eating or drinking until one is hungry or thirsty; nor immediately after exertion; recommends wheat bread and pure sweet white wine, but in limited measure; strong drink made from wheat is also good but should be aged, pure, and clear, that being a sign that it has been properly and sufficiently cooked. One should eat more in the winter and in those long nights additional sleep is beneficial. It warns against harmful foods, among them fruit from trees, limiting those that are dried and especially those that are more juicy, which if eaten when not ripe are like a two-edged sword; and lists foods that are diarrheic. An example of the text is:

It is beneficial to let blood in the first three hours of the day, for the blood prevails over a person during the first three hours of the day. In the winter bloodletting should be done from the left arm, in the summer from the right arm, indicated by, “Length of days is in her right hand” (Proverbs 3:16). Bloodletting should not be done on a day when one returns from traveling nor on a day when one is intending to leave, nor should one go to the bathhouse that day. Also, on the day before and after one should refrain from marital relations.

At the end of the volume is the following tail-piece.

Luah ha-Hayyim was a popular work. It was also printed in Cracow in 1669 and reprinted by Johann Wagenseil in Altdorf, 1687, is one of four Hebrew translations in Exercitationes sex varii agumenti. [It appears on pp. 78-98.], accompanied by a Latin translation entitled Tabulae vitae…brevis introductio hominis, in viam sanitatis. In that edition the Hebrew text and Latin translation are set in parallel columns. In Prague in1688, Altdorf in 1697, and Berlin in 1699, as well as several later editions.[11] is Menorat Zahav Tohor (4 ff.), a kabbalistic commentary on Psalm 67 attributed to R. Solomon ben Jehiel Luria (Maharshal, c. 1510-64). The Berlin edition is printed together with R. Ze’ev Wolf ben Judah Leib of Rosienie’s Gefen Yehidit, an ethical work based on the memorial prayer El Malei Rahamim, and that commemorates what befell the Jews of Podhajce (Podgaitsy), Ukraine in 1677 during a Tartar incursion and massacre of the Jews.

Parenthetically, Bochner is also credited with a Luah Hayyim, extant as a 12ff. unicum in manuscript only. Written in 1684, shortly before his death, it is in the National Library of Israel, as a 12 ff. The subject matter of Luah Hayyim, in contrast to Luah ha-Hayyim described above, is the calendar.[12]

Or Hadash – Our next Bochner title, Or Hadash, was published in Amsterdam at the press of Uri Phoebus ben Aaron ha-Levi in c. 1671-75 in quarto format (40: [6], 53, [3] ff.). Uri Phoebus ben Aaron Witmund ha-Levi, who had previously worked for Immanuel Benveniste, established his own print-shop in 1658. He would print about one hundred titles, from 1658 to 1689, the period he was active in Amsterdam, generally traditional works for the Jewish community, encompassing Bibles, prayer-books, halakhic works, haggadot, aggadot, and historical treatises (Yosippon). In 1689, Uri Phoebus ceased printing in Amsterdam, in order to relocate to Poland. He established a Hebrew press in Zolkiew in 1691. His descendants continued to operate Hebrew printing-presses in Poland into the twentieth century.

The title page of Or Hadash has an architectural frame. The text notes that it is a very small volume:

“full with the blessing of the Lord” (Deuteronomy 33:23) specifically birkat ha-mitzvot and birkat ha-nehenin, as “men of renown” (Genesis 6:4) testify. Therefore, we said it should be printed, perhaps it will be a refuge in time of trouble for us, “to be enlightened with the light of the living Or ha-Hayyim” (Job 33:30), “and he shall plant the tents of his palace” (Daniel 11:45) . . .

The title-page is dated בו יגדל שלום (in which peace will grow, 431 =1661). The colophon is dated, Monday, Rosh Hodesh Shevat תל”ה (435 = January 28, 1675). It has been suggested that the colophon is a typesetter’s error and should read תל”א (431 = January 12, 1671), both days are Mondays, which would be consistent not only with the title page but also with the dates of the approbations, which were given in 1671 or earlier. The title-page is followed by Bochner’s preface with a border of verses, the first line is from the prayer book “Shine a new light (Or Hadash) upon Zion, and may we all soon be privileged to [enjoy] its brightness.” In the center is an acrostic of Bochner’s name, חיים באכנור Hayyim Bochner (above).[13] This is followed by twenty-six approbations from prominent Ashkenaz and Sephardic rabbis, among them among them R. Yom Tov Lipmann Heller (1579-1654) and R. Jacob Temerls (d. c. 1667).[14] The approbations are followed by a note of appreciation from Bochner (5b), his introduction (1a-6b), and then the text (7a-52b).


c. 1671-75, Or Hadash, Amsterdam

Courtesy of Hebrewbooks.org

The text of Or Hadash encompasses all the blessings of birkat ha-mitzvot and birkat ha-nehenin, excepting those pertaining to prayer. Or Hadash incorporates Or Yisrael, by Bochner’s teacher R. Israel Ganz, as well as his Birkat ha-Nehenin, which is from Bochner’s Orhot Hayyim (Cracow, 1654) on R. Isaac Tyrnau’s Minhagim, as well as other small works.[15]Among its contents, in addition to the blessings over food, are benedictions for a talit katan, tefillin, talit gadol, fixing a mezuzah, lulav, Hanukkah lights, dam betulah, sanctification of God’s name, visiting the ill, comforting mourners, and accompanying a body to its burial. As alluded to on the title-page there is an appendix entitled Or ha-Hayyim, also on dietary issues.

There are copies of Or Hadash in which the title page has a variant arrangement of the text. The text of Or Hadash is set in two columns in rabbinic type, excepting headers and initial words. There are several attractive woodcut tail-pieces, among them one, appearing several times, with a hand pouring water from a lave and two fish on each side, all symbols of a Levi, which here would be the printer, Uri Phoebus.[16] Reprinted and re-typeset in the 2003 Zikhron Aaron edition discussed above.

Or Hadash is recorded in Shabbetai ben Joseph Bass’s (1641-1718) Siftei Yeshenim (Amsterdam, 1680), the first bibliography of Hebrew books by a Jewish author, the only one of the above works so noted.[17]

Tozot Ḥayyim – This is the only edition of Tozot Ḥayyim (the Issues of Life), an abridged grammatical work on the popular Perek Shira by the renowned grammarian R. Elijah Levita (Bahur, 1468-1549). Published together with Perek Shira is Bochner’s Ma’amar al Shimoneh Beninim im ha-cenu’im ha-peshutim ve-ha-Mercovim (Essay on the construction of simple and complex pronouns). Tozot Ḥayyim was published in Hamburg at the press of Isaac Hezekiah di Cordova, one of the first publications of that press, established in 1710-11. Tozot Ḥayyim was issued in duodecimo format (120: 20 ff.).

1710, Tozot Ḥayyim

Courtesy of the Jewish National and University Library

The title-page dates beginning of the work to Tuesday, 23 Adar in the year “In an hour of favor I answer you בעת רצון עניתיך (470 = 23 February, 1710)” (Isaiah 49:8).[18] The text begins that Tozot Ḥayyim is an abbreviated essence of Perek Shira, divided into thirteen stanzas and with the addition of Ma’amar al Shimoneh Beninim im ha-cenu’im ha-peshutim ve-ha-Mercovim.

Perek Shira, the first of four parts of a larger work by Levitas entitled Pirke Eliyahu, was first published in Pesaro in 1520. It discusses in thirteen stanzas the laws of letters, vowel-points, and accents.[19] Ma’amar al Shemoneh Beninim, Bochner’s contribution to Tozot Ḥayyim is a small work, beginning on 12b. The text is bi-lingual, comprised of both Hebrew and Yiddish (Judeo-German) entries, the former in a square vocalized font, the later in rabbinic (Rashi) letters, explaining the rules of Hebrew grammar.

II

Midrash Konen – Our first Bochner title which he edited or annotated to a lesser extent than in the above works is Midrash Konen, printed in 1648 in Cracow at the press of Menahem Nahum Meisels, noted above. It as a small 20 cent. work (8, 5, 4 ff.) published together with Ma’in Hochmah, at the end of the volume.


1648, Midrash Konen

Courtesy of the Jewish National and University Library

Midrash Konen deals with creation, heavens, paradise, and hell. It reflects apocalyptic sources of the Second Temple period and mystic literature of the beginning of the Middle Ages. It was composed in about the 11th century and first published in Venice in 1601.[20] The title-page begins that Midrash Konen is based on the verse “He established the heavens by understanding” Proverbs 3:19). The title-page notes that it was edited by Bochner,

Sefer ha-Nikud vi-Sod ha-HashmalAlso printed in 1648 is Sefer ha-Nikud vi-Sod ha-Hashmal, also in Cracow, also by the Meisels press, in octavo format (80: 13ff.). These are kabbalistic works. Sefer ha-Nikud is a mystical explanation of the vocalization and deeper meaning of the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet; Sod ha-Hashmal is on the vision of Ezekiel. Both titles, written by R. Joseph ben Abraham Gikatilla (1248–c. 1325), were first published in Venice at the press of Giovanni di Gara in Arzei Levanon, a compendium of seven small independent works.21

1648, Sefer ha-Nikud vi-Sod ha-Hashmal

Courtesy of the Jewish National and University Library

Additional works that Bochner contributed to are Tikkunei Shabbat (Cracow, 1660) based on R. Isaiah Horowitz’s (Shelah ha-Kodesh, 1555-1630) Shenei Luḥot ha-Berit. It was published in octavo format (80: [25] ff.), the press is uncertain. At the conclusion of Tikkunei Shabbat are prayers to be recited at the conclusion of Shabbat. Another small title that Bochner added to is R. Ḥayyim Rashpitz’s (Raschwitz) Iyyun Tefillah (Amsterdam, 1671) on meditation in prayer based on the persecutions and the martyrdoms of Prague. Yet other titles to which Bochner is credited [he lists these, and others at the beginning of Or Hadash as written but yet unpublished] with having contributed to but not seen by this writer include Mayim Ḥayyim, containing homilies on Bible and Talmud according to the peshat, remez, derush, and sod; Beit Tefillah (Arba’ah Roshim), a grammatical and mystical commentary on the prayer-book, the laws concerning prayers; and Patora di Dahaba, a compendium of the Shulḥan Aruk unpublished [a portion (or whole?) was published on circumcision in 2003 as part of Sefer HaBrit].[22]

III

R. Hayyim ben Benjamin Ze’ev Bochner was, as noted above, a multi-faceted individual. He was the author of varied works reflecting diverse contemporary intellectual interests. His books are both independent works and commentaries on earlier titles. A Kabbalist, Talmudist, and grammarian, reflected in the titles he wrote and annotated. In summary, the works addressed in this article, all relatively small, are Orhot Hayyim on minhagim; Luah ha- Hayyim, a medical work; Or Hadash on the blessings birkat ha-mitzvot and birkat ha-nehenin; Tozot Ḥayyim, an abridged grammatical work; Midrash Konen dealing with Creation, heavens, paradise, and hell; and Sefer ha-Nikud vi-Sod ha-Hashmal, kabbalistic works a mystical explanation of the vocalization and deeper meaning of the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet and on the vision of Ezekiel as well as additional works.

These works were written while Bochner was occupied with communal issues and Torah, for which he gave up his share in a successful family business. Not well remembered today, Bochner led a meaningful and fruitful life, and should be recalled for his lifestyle and personal achievements.

[1] Once again, I would like to express my appreciation to Eli Genauer for reading the article and his constructive comments. I would also like to thank Dan Rabinowitz for his review and additive annotations.
[2] Kaufmann Kohler, S. Roubin, “Bochner, Hayyim b. Benjamin Ze’eb,” ”Jewish Encyclopedia vol. 3 (New York, 1901-06), p. 280; Mordechai Margalioth, ed., Encyclopedia of Great Men in Israel II (Tel Aviv, 1986), col. 492 [Hebrew].
[3] The order of expulsion was issued on Monday, March 1, 1670. By August 1 no Jews remained in Vienna. Soon after there was a reported deficit amounting to 40,000 florins a year in the state tax as well as a loss of 20,000 florins reported in the Landstände due to the departure of the Jews. The citizens of Vienna had agreed to pay the annual Jews’ tax of 14,000 florins but were now unable to pay their own taxes. On Sept. 26, 1673, in a conference in Wischaw, Moravia between government and Jewish representatives, it was agreed that upon payment of 300,000 florins and the former yearly tax of 10,000 florins 250 Jewish families could return to Vienna and occupy fifty business places in the inner city. (Joseph Jacobs, Meyer Kayserling, Gotthard Deutsch, Theodor Lieben, “Vienna,” Jewish Encyclopedia vol. 2 pp. 430-32).
[4] Hayyim Michael, Or ha-Hayyim (Frankfurt am Main, 1891, reprint, Jerusalem, 1965), p. 385 no. 861 [Hebrew].
[5] Krzysztof Pilarczyk, “Hebrew Printing Houses in Poland against the Background of their History in the World,” Studia Judaica 7:2 (Cracow, 2004), pp. 210-11.
[6] Ch. B. 3Friedberg, Bet Eked Sepharim, (Israel, n.d.), mem 2174 [Hebrew].
[7] Chaim Tchernowitz, Toledoth ha-Poskim, II (New York, 1946), pp. 260-61 [Hebrew].
[8] Shmuel Ashkenazi, “Tyrnau, Issac” vol. 20, Encyclopedia Judaica (Jerusalem, 2007), pp. 219-20). Another somewhat similar affair, is that the ruler of Poland, King Casimir the Great (1333-70) fell in love with Esterka, the Jewess daughter of a tailor from a small town. Later generations took this as the reason for Casimir’s noteworthy friendship for his Jewish subjects. However, when the clergy became aware of Casimir’s very close friendship towards Jews, they incited the population against them, resulting in several riotous anti-Jewish outbreaks (Moses A. Shulvass, Jewish Culture in Eastern Europe: The Classical Period (New York, 1975, pp. 4, 6).
[9] Isaac Yudlov, Ginzei Yisrael, The Israel Mehlman Collection in the Jewish National and University Library (Jerusalem, 1984), pp. 135-36, no. 808 [Hebrew].
[10] Isaac Benjacob, Otzar ha-Sefarim (Vilna, 1880), p. 257 no. 92 [Hebrew] and Moritz 5Steinschneider, Catalogus Liborium Hebraeorum in Bibliotheca Bodleiana (CB, Berlin, 1852-60), cols. 825-26 no. 4679.
[11] Yeshayahu Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. Listing of Books Printed in Hebrew Letters Since the Beginning of Printing circa 1469 through 1863 I (Jerusalem, 1993-95), p. 203 [Hebrew].
[12] I would like to thank R. Eliezer Brodt for bringing it to my attention. Concerning this see the National Library of Israel Jerusalem Israel Ms. Heb. 6678=28 Hekhal Shlomo Jerusalem Israel Ms. Goldschmidt 28
[13] Bochner’s name in the works described here as well as on the title-page of Midrash Konen (below) is spelled באכנור, that is, with an א. For reasons that are not clear, several bibliographic works, including some descriptive entries in the JNL catalogue, spell it בוכנר, that is with a ו.Yet another spelling באכנער is in Isaac Benjacob, Otzar ha-Sefarim, p. 24 no. 487 [Hebrew].
[14] For a complete list of the approbations see L. Fuks and R. G. FuksMansfeld, Hebrew Typography in the Northern Netherlands 1585 – 1815 II (Leiden, 1984-87), pp. 264-65 no. 325.
[15] Benjacob, op cit.; Michael, op cit.
[16] Concerning the fish motif in Hebrew books see Marvin J. Heller “The Fish Motif on Early Hebrew Title-Pages and as Pressmarks” http://seforim.blogspot.com/, September 25, 2019, reprinted in Essays on the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2021), pp. 62-84.
[17] Shabbetai Bass, Siftei Yeshenim (Amsterdam, 1680), p. 5 no. 93 [Hebrew].
[18] Problematically, 23 February, 1710 was a Sunday.
[19] Joseph Jacobs, Isaac Broydé, “Levita, Elijah,” Jewish Encyclopedia vol. 8, pp. 46-49.
[20] Moshe David Herr, “Midrashim, Smaller,” vol. 14 Encyclopedia Judaica (Jerusalem, 2007), p. 189.
[21] Concerning R. Joseph Gikatilla see Marvin J. Heller, “R. Joseph ben Abraham Gikatilla: A Medieval Sephardi Kabbalist,” Sephardic Horizons (Forthcoming). The other titles in Arzei Levanon are Midrash Konen, on the origin of the world, the heavens, paradise, and hell; Ha-Emunah ve-ha-Bittahon, a kabbalistic work generally attributed to R. Moses ben Nahman (Ramban, 1194–1270) but now believed to have been written by R. Jacob ben Sheshet Gerondi (13th century); Pirkei Heikhalot of R. Ishma’el Kohen Gadol, on Merkavah mysticism; Ma’ayin ha-Hokhmah, attributed to R. Jacob ben Sheshet Gerondi; and Klalei Midrash Rabbah, an abridged form of the methodological treatise on the Midrash Rabbah by R. Abraham ben Solomon ibn Akra.
[22] Kaufmann Kohler, S. Roubin, op. cit.




The Etymology of “Onah”

The Etymology of “Onah”

by Mitchell First (MFirstAtty@aol.com)

I thought it would be useful if everyone would have a better understanding of how the root ענה, occurring at Exodus 21:10 in the form “onatah,” can refer to the sexual obligation. I will offer several possibilities.

First I must provide a brief overview of this widely occurring root. It is typically viewed as having four meanings as a verb: 1) respond, 2) sing, 3) afflict, and 4) occupy oneself with.

It is hard to unify all these meanings. But it is easy to see that perhaps the first and second meanings have a common origin.

As to the third meaning, the word ענו, a submissive, humble individual, probably derives from this meaning and the word עני, a poor individual, also probably derives from this meaning.

The fourth meaning is a rare one in Tanakh. It is only found in the book of Kohelet.

It is also possible that ענה has a “time-related” meaning in Tanakh. We will discuss this below.

—–

Exodus 21:10 reads: “If he marries another, he must not diminish her food, her clothing, or ‘onatah’ (=her onah).” The person being protected is the Israelite slave who was the first wife.

The Mishnah at Ketuvot 5:6 understands “onah” (without any discussion) as referring to the man’s sexual obligation to his wife,[1] and then proceeds to delineate the obligation for various occupations.

Our first question is whether we can fit this meaning of “onah” into any of the first four meanings above. Note that Rashi on our verse explains the word as “tashmish” but does not provide any explanation.

We could connect our word with the “response” meaning above and suggest that “onatah” means “a response to her request for intimacy.” But it is hard to imagine that such an important obligation would be phrased in such a vague way.[2]

Here are a few better approaches:

1. There is a word מעון and other words related to it that appear many times in Tanakh and mean “dwelling.” Presumably, their root would have been עון. If the root of our “onatah” (which has no vav) would be עון with its “dwelling” meaning, we can interpret the word “dwelling” as symbolizing a main activity that goes on in a dwelling, i.e., sexual relations.[3] Our verse would be referring to sexual relations but doing it euphemistically. As a parallel, in English the word “cohabit” typically now has a sexual meaning, even though the word originated with a “habitation” meaning.

Of course, we can alternatively interpret our verse to be stating that a man may not diminish the living quarters of his wife and that the verse has nothing to do with sexual relations. Rashbam and Cassuto are among the many who take this approach.[4] But obviously we would like to avoid this interpretation.

2. It has been argued that Ayin-Nun-Heh has a meaning related to “time” in Tanakh. We know that it has such a meaning in early Rabbinic Hebrew. See, e.g., Mishnah Peah 4:8: “onat ha-ma’aserot.”[5]

If there was a root Ayin-Nun-Heh (or Ayin-Nun-Tav) with a time-related meaning in the era of Tanakh, “onatah” could be referring to a husband’s obligation to provide relations to his spouse at certain time intervals. R. Saadiah Gaon and Ibn Ezra are among the many who follow this approach. Daat Mikra offers it as its second interpretation.

But this is still not a simple way of reading the verse. As Luzzatto observes: “It does not stand to reason that the Torah would designate a man’s relations with his wife by the term ‘set time,’[6] besides the fact that nowhere in the Torah is there any timetable for this matter.”[7]

There is an alternative way of obtaining the relations meaning based on the “time” meaning of “onah.” We can say that “onah” means “her time,” and in the case of two competing women, as is the case here, it means “her turn.”[8]

——

We still have to address the issue of whether Ayin-Nun-Heh or Ayin-Nun-Tav really did have a time-related meaning in Tanakh.

There are three arguments to support this.

First, the word עת means “time” many times in Tanakh. Many believe this derives from a root [9]ענת, but many disagree with this etymology.[10]

Second, עונן and מעונן refer to one who engages in divination. Many understand this word as deriving from Ayin-Nun-Heh with a “time” meaning. I.e., perhaps these individuals made predictions as to what is a good time to do things. But others interpret these words with a different etymology altogether. E.g., perhaps these individuals made predictions by looking at cloud formations. Many other possibilities have been suggested for the etymology of עונן and מעונן. But the time-related etymology is a real possibility.

– Third, the fact that our word appears in early Rabbinic Hebrew with a time-related meaning is some evidence that this meaning already existed in Biblical Hebrew.

3. A third approach observes that there are many instances in Tanakh where Ayin-Nun-Heh occurs in the piel construct in a context of a man forcing a woman to have intercourse. See, e.g., Gen. 34:2 (Dinah), and Deut. 21:14 (woman captured in war).[11] We are used to translating these piel verbs with an “afflict sorrow or pain” meaning, or perhaps a “humbled” meaning.12 But perhaps Ayin-Nun-Heh in the piel in all or some of these cases is better understood as “rape.”[13] If Ayin-Nun–Heh in the piel construct can mean “rape,” that same root in the kal construct can mean “consensual relations.” Then we could utilize this meaning for our word at Ex. 21:10.[14]

To complete our discussion, I must mention two other Tannaitic passages about “onah”: one in the Mekhilta, and the other: a baraita in the Talmud.

As I mentioned at the outset, the Mishnah at Ketuvot 5:6 assumes that the “onah” of our verse means “relations” and does not offer any alternative view or any derivation.

The Mekhilta in Mishpatim offers three different interpretations of “onah.” The first is “relations” (“derech eretz”). This view is brought in the name of R. Yoshiah. The prooftext he cites is Gen. 34:2 (regarding Dinah): “va-yishkav otah va-ye’aneha.” This citation is surprising because it is usually assumed that “va-ye’aneha” here has the “afflict” or ”humbled” meaning. (This citation fits loosely with our third approach.)

A second view (in the name of R. Yonatan) interprets “onah” to be a reference to giving clothing that is appropriate to the season. A third view (in the name of Rebbi) interprets “onah” as food (giving a strange prooftext, Deut. 8:3). This third view interprets a different word in verse 21:10, one from the root שׁאר, as referring to “relations.”

At Ketubot 47b, there is a baraita very similar to the Mekhilta (although with different Tannaim) that also gives the above three views. In the view of the tanna kamma, the verse cited for the “relations” meaning is a statement of Lavan at 31:50: “If you will ‘ta’aneh’ my daughters and/or take other wives besides my daughters…” Yet in this verse, our root clearly means “afflict” and does not mean “relations.”[15]

——

To sum up, if one wants to interpret “onah” as “relations,” one approach is to relate it to the word מעון and its meaning “dwelling.” “Dwelling” can symbolize a main activity that goes on in a dwelling. Alternatively, the approach that “onah” simply refers to “her time” (=her turn) sounds plausible as well. Finally, we have the suggestion that Ayin-Nun-Heh in the kal construct may refer to consensual relations.

 

[1] The Mishnah does not cite our verse but is implicitly referring to it. Admittedly there are other interpretations of “onah” among the Tannaitic Sages. I will discuss them at the end of this article.
[2] Nevertheless, S.D. Luzzatto is willing to adopt something like this approach. S. Mandelkern takes it seriously as well. The Brown-Driver-Briggs lexicon mentions it as a possibility. In more modern times, M.Z. Kaddari, Millon Ha-Ivrit Ha-Mikrait (2006), p. 815, adopts it without any discussion.

For more on the view of Luzzatto and on this entire topic, see the article by Marty Lockshin from Jan. 27, 2022 on thetorah.com: “Onah: A Husband’s Conjugal Duties?”

Lockshin points out that Targum Onkelos merely renders the Hebrew term with an Aramaic equivalent, so we cannot determine how it was understood in this translation. He also discusses the views of the other early Aramaic translations. He also mentions the view of the Septuagint. It has “homilian,” which literally means “company” or “conversation,” but which many scholars think is being used euphemistically here for “relations.”
[3] Daat Mikra adopts something like this as the first of its two interpretations. Luzzatto mentions some who take this approach, even though he disagrees with it.

The scholars who view there to have been a root Ayin-Vav-Nun (=to dwell) view the vav as being vocalized with a shuruk. See, e.g., Brown-Driver-Briggs, p. 732 and Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament (2000), vol. 11, p. 229. If the underlying meaning was “dwell,” then one can argue that our word should have been vocalized as “unatah.” Even if this is correct, probably most of us could live with the idea that there was an error in the vocalization of the vav by the post-Talmudic Masoretes.
[4] More recently, it is adopted in Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament, vol. 11, p. 229. Prior to Rashbam, it was one of two interpretations offered by Menahem Ibn Saruq (10th cent.). It was also offered by Karaites.
[5] See also the baraita at Ketuvot 48a (view of the tanna R. Eliezer b. Yaakov) and the Mekhilta, Mishpatim (view of the tanna R. Yonatan). Other aspects of these passages are discussed at the end of this article.
[6] For further elaboration on this point, see Lockshin’s article. The passage itself is ambiguous as to what Luzzatto’s reasoning was.
[7] Translation from D. Klein’s edition.
[8] This view is mentioned in the Anchor Bible in the name of Arnold Ehrlich (d. 1919). It is one of many views mentioned in the long and very speculative discussion there.
[9] See Ernest Klein, A Comprehensive Etymological Dictionary of the Hebrew Language for Readers of English (1987) p. 489-90. See also Ibn Ezra to Ex. 21:10 and to Ecc. 9:11. See also the similar words at the end of Ezra 4:10, 4:11, and 4:17.
[10] See Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament, vol. 11, p. 229 and p. 437.
[11] The additional occasions are: Deut. 22:24 and 22:29, Judges 19:24 and 20:5, 2 Sam. 13: 12,14,22, and 32, Ezekiel 22:11, and Lam. 5:11.
[12] When you “humble” someone, you make them submit to your authority. This is a different meaning than “afflicting” them, even though the two meanings are related. The 1917 Jewish Publication Society of America translation uses “humbled” often in these sexual contexts. See also their translation of God’s statement to Pharaoh at Ex. 10:3: “How long wilt thou refuse to humble thyself (לענת) before Me?.”
[13] What if we can argue compellingly that the piel of Ayin-Nun-Heh does not mean “rape” in at least one of these cases? For example, at Gen. 34:2, we have “va-yishkav otah va-ye’aneha.” Since we are already told “va-yishkav otah,”perhaps the next word has the “afflict” or “humble” meaning. Of course, this is not a strong question. Moreover, even if we can argue compellingly that, in one or more of the verses with the piel construct, ענה does not mean “rape,” that does not mean that it cannot mean “rape” in some of the others.
[14] I have seen this suggestion made by Ariella Deem. See her “The Goddess Anath and Some Biblical Hebrew Cruces,” Journal of Semitic Studies 23 (1978), pp. 25-30. This suggestion was probably made by others prior to this. Deem like this interpretation because she uses it to give a new meaning to the name of the ancient goddess “Anat” (a “sexual love” meaning). Deem also uses this idea to explain the third “anot” at Ex. 32:18. She suggests: “the sound of an orgy.”
[15] One can claim that the meaning is “afflict my daughters by withholding relations,” but this would not be a proper prooftext that the root Ayin-Nun-Heh meant “relations.”




The Unusual Word Tzafufim in Pirkei Avos

The Unusual Word Tzafufim in Pirkei Avos|
עומדים צפופים ומשתחווים רווחים

David S. Farkas*

On a recent Shabbos afternoon I was learning the Yerushalmi to Peah when my thoughts turned – for reasons described below – to the famous passage in Pirkei Avos (5:5) עומדים צפופים ומשתחווים רווחים.

Every schoolboy is familiar with the phrase. The Mishna sets forth ten miracles regularly experienced in the times of the Temple. The eighth of these, as set forth above, is that though the people stood crowded in the Temple courtyard, they were nevertheless able to bow with sufficient space around them. The word צפופים, accordingly, means crowded.

This much is evident from the Mishna itself. But where does this word צפוף come from? Thinking about it further, I could recall no similar examples of the word elsewhere. Indeed, a check of the Concordance (Even-Shoshan) confirmed that no such word exists in all of Tanach.

No matter. There are many words in the Mishna that do not exist in Tanach. Perhaps the word is Mishnaic Hebrew, rather than Biblical. Yet here too, investigation showed no other examples of the word צפוף appearing in the Mishna. At this point we had the makings of a problem. It seems strange for such a familiar word to appear neither in Tanach, nor anywhere else in the Mishna. And yet it does not appear to be a foreign loan word either, with none of the hallmarks of Greek or Roman influence, or that of any other language. Where did it come from?

This is why I mentioned what I had been learning when my thoughts were turned in this direction. For in Peah (3:1, 26a in the excellent Oz Vi-Hadar edition) we find a debate among the two schools of Shammai and Hillel, in a case where numerous small patches of grain were planted between the trees of an orchard. The question is whether, for purposes of leaving Peah, they are to be treated as a single field or as many. The Gemara narrows the inquiry: אם במורווחין אף בש מודים שהוא נותן פיאה אחת על הכל. אם ברצופין אף בה מודים שהוא נותן פיאה מכל אחד ואחד.. If the trees are spread out, even B. Shammai would agree that the patches are treated as single field (i.e., the trees are not seen as intervening) and a single Peah should suffice. If the trees are close together, they are treated as an intervening separation, and even B. Hillel would agree that Peah should be taken from every patch. The Gemara concludes, אלא כי אנן קיימין בנטועין מטע עשר לבית סאה בש עובדי להון כרצופין ובה עובדי להון כמורווחין.. The case must be of trees planted in a certain density (ten per beis se’ah), and the point at issue is whether or not this density is enough to cause the fields to be considered spread out.

Of course, what jumps out to the reader, just as did to me that Shabbos afternoon, is the contrast between רווחין and רצופין. This is the exact same contrast employed in the Mishna in Avos, yet here the word used is רצופין, not צפופים.

Nor is this the only case where such a contrast is used with this exact same pair of words. In Yerushalmi Moed Kattan 1:3 4a (also found in Sheviis 2:7 18a) R. Eliezer ben Yaakov permits diverting pooled water via a channel from tree to tree on Yom Tov, but does not allow an entire field to be irrigated. The Rabbis disagree, and the Gemara again narrows the field of inquiry, observing that if the trees were “spread apart”, all would agree irrigation is prohibited because one is watering more than he needs. If the trees were packed close together, on the other hand, all would agree watering is necessary to keep them from drying out. Thus, the Gemara concludes that the field in question was planted with the standard density mentioned above, ten trees per beis se’ah, and the point at issue between R. Eliezer ben Yaakov and the Rabbis is only whether this density is considered “spaced” or “packed”. מה אנן קיימין? אם במרווחין, דברי הכל אסור. אם ברצופין, דברי הכל מותר. אלא כי נן קיימין בנטועין מטע עשר לבית סאה: רבי ליעזר בן יעקב עבד לון כמרווחין, ורבנן עבדין לון כרצופין. Once again, we see the word רווחין contrasted with רצופין.

Finally, for a third example, see Yerushalmi Nazir 9:3 51b (also found in Kilayim 5:2 48a) We find there a debate as to whether vines planted at 4-cubit intervals are considered a vineyard, or merely a group of individual vines. R. Shimon bar Ba posits that the same question applies to a group of corpses found closely together, and whether or not they constitute a שכונת קברים, a burial ground. (Both questions have halachic import not relevant here.) R. Yose, however, says the two are not comparable: אמר רבי יוסי ולא דמייא. תמן מרווחין ורצפן במחלוקת, רצופין וריווחן דברי הכל. ברם הכא מהו פליגין בשבא ומצאן רצופין. In the case of the vines, even if they were properly spaced when planted and later crowded by adding vines, it would still be a matter of debate. And if they were initially crowded but later spaced by uprooting vines, all would agree it is a vineyard. But with respect to a burial ground, the whole question is when they were found close together, and one does not know how they were originally buried. (See Artscroll translation.) Again, for our purposes, the key point is only the wording. Here again, we see the word רווחין contrasted with רצופין.

All these three examples are from the Yerushalmi – that is to say, from Eretz Yisrael, where the Mishna was written. I have cited them because they show a clear contrast between רצופים and רווחים. These are clearly two parallel technical terms, one the opposite of the other. Thus, while we have not yet formally laid out a case, the reader can already anticipate the closing arguments: Can the real reading of the celebrated Mishna in Avos actually be רצופים, rather than צפופים?

Before pronouncing judgment, let us return to צפופים. We have already stated that no such word appears either in Tanach or anywhere else in the Mishna. If so, where does it come from?

Rashi, in Yoma 21a, where the Mishna in Avos is quoted, says it comes from the word צף, floating. As he explains, it was so tightly packed that people’s feet would actually come off the ground. Bartenura adds, in following Rashi, that their feet remained suspended in mid-air. However, we might wish to interpret Rashi to mean that their feet would rest on their neighbors’ feet packed in next to them. צף in the sense of both floating or being elevated upon something does appear in rabbinic literature, see Sotah 45a (and arguably in Tanach as well, see Eicha 3:54). However understood though, one gets the sense that Rashi was forced to devise this picturesque understanding of צפופים only because of the absence of any comparable words elsewhere. In Zevachim 15b, for example, the Mishna discusses the law of one Kohen standing on the foot of another (and whether it constitutes an interposition) and neither there nor in the ensuing Gemara is there any reference to צף. Further, if this was the true source of the word, shouldn’t the phrase, in fact, simply be צף, as in Sotah 44b צף על פני מים (cited by Bartenura) or צפים, as used in Mikvaos 2:8 אם היו המים צפים על גביו כל שהוא ישבר? This does not explain how we get the unusual word צפופים.

Aruch says it simply means “crowded” (דחוקים) as we translated it above. He brings two other examples in Rabbinic literature of the word צפוף in this sense, which, if not exactly a verse or a Mishna, would still be supportive. Yet neither of these examples are actually extant. The first is from Menachos 85b פעם אחת נצטפצפו אנשי לדקיא לשמן which we are apparently to read as, “it once happened that the people of Laodicea were hard-pressed for oil.” But this would only be a borrowed sense of the term, using “hard-pressed” for “pressed”, and from thence to “crowded”. Further, this too, is not the word צפוף for which we are looking, but only a variation thereof. And more fundamentally, none of our editions today even have such a word, instead reading פעם אחת נצרכו להן אנשי לודקיא לשמן

The Aruch’s other example is from Midrash Yelamdenu, which he quotes in connection with the second set of tablets, ראו האיך עומדין המלאכים צפופין ומרתתין לפני See how the angels are crowded and tremble before me. Yet we do not have the Midrash Yelamdenu, and Midrash Tanchuma – which is sometimes said to be identical with Yelamdenu – also does not have any such phrase.1 We therefore cannot examine this Midrash closely, because it has been lost to us. Indeed, the use of the word “crowded” in the context of this snippet seems strange and out of place. In fact, simply by reading this solitary citation, one wonders if the word really should be כפופין (“bent in submission”) rather than צפופין. We cannot tell.2

A. Kohut, in Aruch Ha-Shalem, fares no better, simply citing other cases where theעומדים צפופים phrase is cited. He also cites possibilities where words similar to צפוף might theoretically be interpreted to mean דחוקים. However, all these examples are rather דוחק. For example, he cites Rosh Hashana 16b, where Jews in the middle category of merits and demerits are described descending to hell. Afterwards, they are מצפצפין ועולין. Rashi explains “they cry out”, and the Aruch says it means “they float out”, but Kohut conjectures it to mean “they are pushed out”, thus a kind of doubtful proof to the usage of צפוף in the sense of “crowded”. A few other similarly doubtful possibilities are put forward, none of which actually use the word צפוף in this form. (Interestingly, Kohut precedes these examples with the curious word אתפלפל – by which, I interpret it to mean, he intended to engage in pilpul for etymologists.)

The case is far different when we come to רצופין. The meaning of the word is “connected” or “contiguous”, and appears in the Bible on multiple occasions in the context of the flooring in the Temple (or in Esther 1:6, the King’s court). These floors – the source of the common word רצפה – were made out of hundreds of connected stones or tiles, from whence the word is easily applied to a large grouping of anything close together, be it people, graves, trees, or anything else.

Three different examples of the word רצופים used specifically in contrast with the word רווחים were cited above from the Yerushalmi. However, when used by itself a crowded field of examples can be shown in the Bavli as well. See Moed Kattan 9a מה יום כולו רצוף אף עשתי עשר כולן רצופין (Rashi – מה יום רצוף שאין בו הפסק אף כולהו יא יום רצוף דליכא הפסק בינתיים); Bava Basra 37b אכלן רצופין אין לו חזקה (Rashi – כגון שנטועין יותר מיבבית סאה); Negaim 11:9 רבי שמעון אומר, השתי אם היה רצוף, מיטמא. (Rash שהחוטים רצופים זה אצל זה כעין רצפה שסמוכים זה אצל זה) The word is also found in the closely related meaning of “consecutive”, as in the requirement for adverse possession of land to be שלוש שנים רצופות three consecutive years, see Bava Basra 29b and Gittin 82a. Many more examples are cited both in the Aruch itself and by Kohut.

Thus, we arrive at the conclusion. In answer to the question posed above, there is good reason to suspect the original phrase was actually עומדים רצופים ומשתחווים רווחים. These two technical terms were often used in parallel contrast with each other in Eretz Yisrael. (That the two words together appear only in the relatively little-known Yerushalmi may, in part, be a reason why this point appears to have escaped notice thus far.) The word רצוף in the sense of crowded or contiguous is well documented throughout chazal, in both the Mishna and the Gemara, and even has a Biblical pedigree. The word צפוף, on the other hand, does not appear anywhere else that we can verify, is not found in Tanach or the Mishna, and can only be explained via questionable or creative etymology. The two words sound very similar and use essentially the same letters, and by a simple metathesis צפוף could easily and early on have arisen from רצוף.

Whether the jury is convinced or not, I am very far from “campaigning” to change a well-known word that Rashi and the Aruch were comfortable using. There is certainly no absolute proof that the reading I suggest is correct, and no manuscript evidence I am aware of to suggest there ever was a different reading. As I have had occasion to write in this space before, there is a perennial balancing act between the freedom of inquiry afforded by the principle of מקום הניחו לנו להתגדר, and actually suggesting change to established rule and precedent. Our thoughts must thus remain within the realm of conjecture. Only this, and nothing more.

* Mr. Farkas is a practicing labor attorney in Cleveland, Ohio, and received his rabbinic ordination from Ner Israel Rabbinical College in 1999. He can be reached at davidsfarkas at gmail.com

[1] Indeed, it is precisely through examples like this that the great 19th century scholars – titans like Zunz, Buber, and others – made their case as to whether or not these two midrashim were identical with each other. The literature on the Yelamednu/Tanchuma topic is extensive, and not the subject of this brief note.
[2]
The word also appears in Midrash Shmuel 9:2 האילה הזו אבריה צפופים והיא מתקשה לילד, ומה הקבה עושה, ממציא לה נחש והוא נושכה ואבריה מתרפים The limbs of the deer are dense and it has difficulty giving birth, so the Lord causes a snake to bite it and loosen the limbs. However, Midrash Shmuel is a late work, and cannot be a source for a word appearing in a Mishna. In fact, it is more likely the opposite is true, that Midrash Shmuel took the word from Avos. Indeed, variations of the theme it mentions (concerning the difficult birth of the deer) appear in the older Beraishis Rabbah (12:9) and Bava Basra (16a), and neither use the expression found in Midrash Shmuel.




Book Announcement: Words for the Wise: Sixty-Two Insights on Hebrew, Holidays, History and Liturgy by Mitchell First

Words for the Wise: Sixty-Two Insights on Hebrew, Holidays, History and Liturgy by Mitchell First

By Eliezer Brodt

The Seforim Blog is proud to announce the publication of our frequent contributor Mitchell First’s newest book Words for the Wise: Sixty-Two Insights on Hebrew, Holidays, History and Liturgy (264 pp.).

Words for the Wise contains 62 short articles address interesting questions about the Hebrew language, Jewish history, and liturgy. For example:

On Liturgy, 8 articles, including the origin of and insights into Shalom Aleikhem, Anim Zemirot, and Maoz Tzur.

On Holidays, 9 articles, including the origin of the recital of Le-David Hashem Ori, the underlying meanings of the words lulav, atzeret, and Pesaḥ, and the background to the Fast of Gedaliah.

On History, 18 articles, including a history of the city of Acco, and on the lives of Rashbam, Judah Touro, Golda Meir, and Yigael Yadin, and on an important manuscript of Rambam’s Mishneh Torah.

On Hebrew, 27 articles, including insights into the roots ישן ,חול ,זמר ,זהר and רגע, the etymology of the word ממזר, the meaning of כתונת פסים, and interesting words in Hallel.

The book can be ordered here and here.

A review of the book can be seen here.

Here are the Table of Contents:

 




Poetry and Wordplay in the Book of Kohelet

Poetry and Wordplay in the Book of Kohelet

By Joseph Wertzberger[1]

Sefer Kohelet, the Book of Kohelet, was written approximately 700-600 BC according to Rabbinic sources,[2] and is dated to somewhere between that time and the early to mid-third century BC by academic sources.[3] Its wisdom is traditionally attributed to King Solomon.[4]

The book is part of ancient Hebrew wisdom literature, and is known for its existential, philosophic lessons and motifs. But alongside that also, the book is suffused with sophisticated poetry and wordplay, and I’d like to use this essay to point out a few examples.

  1. The Meaninglessness of Huvel

The book begins with its most well-known verse, summarizing the work’s theme and setting its tone.

הבל הבלים אמר קהלת, הבל הבלים הכל הבל. קהלת א ב

Huvel of huvel,[5] said Kohelet, huvel of huvel, all is huvel.

The word huvel can be translated variously as air,[6] vapor, meaninglessness, vanity,[7] folly, futility, absurdity,[8] or nothingness.[9] The word is repeated throughout the book as a motif, describing aspects of human endeavor and life experience.

The book begins with a bang, so to speak; a strong summary statement that captures the book’s theme, while also the reader’s attention; and the theme is then explained, elaborated upon, and expanded throughout the rest of the book. The sentence is only eight words long, and a remarkable five of them, more than half of the sentence, are the same word, essentially nothing.

Using a word that also means air, or vapor, as the book’s theme is not accidental, for in the author’s effort to examine life’s purpose, meaning and sense, to dig into it and to pin it down, he (and we, alongside) discovers ultimate meaning and sense to be elusive. We think we understand things, and our minds naturally intuit purpose and endow things with meaning, but the moment we try to pin it down and fully capture it, it slips through our fingers like so much vaporous air.

In fact, the word huvel itself symbolizes its meaning onomatopoeically well, being composed of only soft consonants,[10] its vocalization almost entirely pure breath itself, with no hard sounds; an unusual verbal formulation. The entire sentence, in fact, is composed almost completely of “air” with almost no hard consonants, the only two being the hard ‘k’ sounds in Kohelet and hakol, balancing each other out at the two ends of the sentence. When the sentence is read aloud, particularly with its ancient Hebrew pronunciation and syllabic emphasis, it has a very lilting, bouncing and poetically balanced quality to it.[11]

It is also intriguing to notice that the hard ‘k’ sound in hakol is in fact the only thing that distinguishes the word from the similar word huvel – in fact, even more so, the tiniest difference between the letters kuf and vet are what distinguish absolutely everything from nothing! And the only other ‘k’ sound in the verse is in the only other physical object that appears in the sentence, the speaker of the sentence at its opposite end, who is examining everything, and turning it into nothing.[12] And so, essentially, nothing appears in the sentence until almost its very end, and when something does appear, everything appears all at once with the one simple word, hakol, and it’s all immediately revealed to in fact be… hevel, nothing at all.

  1. Onomatopoeia

The book includes many beautiful examples of onomatopoeia. In addition to the word huvel and its use as mentioned, some of the best are the following.[13]

כל הנחלים הלכים אל הים והים איננו מלא, אל מקום שהנחלים הלכים שם הם שבים ללכת[14]. קהלת א ז

We hear the pitter-patter of water bouncing, running and tumbling through the brook down the mountainside.

סובב סבב הולך הרוח ועל סביבתיו שב הרוח[15]. קהלת א ו

The wind’s whistle and howl comes through.

כי כקול הסירים תחת הסיר, כן שחק הכסיל[16]. קהלת ז ו

We can clearly hear the kindling under the kettle crackle and hiss,[17] and the fool’s braying cackle alongside.

אם ישך הנחש בלוא לחש, ואין יתרון לבעל הלשון[18]. קהלת י יא

Here we hear the hiss of the snake, and the whispered sounds of the luchash, in the sounds of the sentence. There’s also a poetically ringing rhyme to the verse, and the gossip whisperer’s tongue coming at the end of it circles poetically back to the snake at its start, whose bite is also viscerally associated with its flicking tongue (snakes hunt by smelling prey through their tongue).

  1. He Gives Another, His Portion

כי יש אדם שעמלו בחכמה ובדעת ובכשרון ולאדם שלא עמל בו יתננו חלקו[19]. קהלת ב כא

The word chelko at the end of the sentence seems initially extraneous and off-balance, for when we read the sentence from its start, it seems complete with the word yitnenu. The word chelko then appears, almost an added appendage at the sentence’s end.

It seems that the word chelko (his portion) would have fit the sentence better had the preceding word been yiten (he gives) instead of yitnenu (he gives it to him). Since the word yitnenu includes a subject-reference, it’s odd to refer to the subject again in the next word. Noticing this odd juxtaposition and double subject reference clues in the reader to understand that the person (and portion) described in chelko can also be read as referring to the receiver.[20]

In other words, the sentence is written so as to create in the reader an initial visceral perception of chelko as referring to the giver, followed by an understanding that it refers to the receiver; providing – in prose – an illustration of the very act described by the prose itself, namely having chelko, the portion, ‘pass’ as it were, from the giver to the receiver![21]

  1. Making Meaning of Experience

ראיתי את הענין אשר נתן אלהים לבני האדם לענות בו. קהלת ג י

The words “inyan’ and “la’anot” in this sentence have at least four translations, all of which fit together to provide a fuller meaning to the sentence.

La’anot and inyan can mean suffering, pain and negative experience, as in,

וכאשר יענו אותו. שמות א יב

כל נדר וכל שבעת אסר לענת נפש. במדבר ל יד

יום ענות אדם נפשו. ישעיהו נח ה

This translation is given to the words by the Targum,[22] and in this reading the sentence means, “I saw the suffering that God gave people to be afflicted with.”

La’anot and inyan can also mean celebration,[23] happiness and positive experience, as in,

קול ענות אנכי שמע[24]. שמות לב יח

כי האלהים מענה בשמחת לבו[25]. קהלת ה יט

This translation is given by Mordechai Zer-Kavod in his commentary to Mossad Harav Kook’s edition of Kohelet, and at Kohelet 1-13 he notes a similar translation by R. Shlomo Kluger. In this reading, the sentence means, “I saw the experience that God gave people to be enjoyed with.”

La’anot and inyan can also simply mean experience, with no negative or positive connotations, similar to the Rabbinic Hebrew, and from there modern Hebrew’s, use of the common word inyan,[26] as in,

וענתה שמה כימי נעוריה. הושע ב יז

R Sa’adia Gaon, Rashi, Rashbam, Ibn Ezra and Ralbag provide similar translations of the word.[27] In this reading the word inyan means a matter, or engagement, la’anot means something like “to be engaged in” or “exercised with”, and the sentence is translated as, “I saw the engagement that God gave people to be exercised with.”[28]

So, it turns out, there are three different ways to translate the words inyan and la’anot, each of which changes the overall meaning of the verse, and each of which diverse translations are accurate, work in the sentence structure, and can provide meaning to the sentence.[29] Which is all to say, that our interpretation of experience and how we see it, provides the meaning we give to it!

Finally, la’anot and inyan can also mean to witness, as in,

לא תענה ברעך עד שקר. שמות כ ב

לענות בו סרה. דברים יט טז

וענתה השירה הזאת לפניו לעד. דברים לא כא

In this translation the verse means, “I saw the experiences that G-d gave to people to witness (i.e., to see and experience)”.[30]

Here too, are two layers of meaning, for in one sense, to say that one has ‘witnessed’ an event is simply another way of saying that one has seen and experienced it. But in a deeper sense, it is the witnessing of the event itself that gives meaning, shape and form to the event; and with no witness, the event would be formless and without meaning.[31] This reading, of course, fits right into, and complements, the first three readings of the verse, for it is our experience of an event, and the way in which we witness it, that creates it as an event for us, provides us its meaning, and makes it what it is to us.[32] [33]

  1. Relax, In the End Nothing Makes Sense

הבל הבלים אמר הקוהלת הכל הבל. קהלת יב ח

The same sentence that began the book, bookends it again as its conclusion.[34] [35] Its meaning at both ends, however, can be read differently.

In writing and in reading the book, and in working through its problems, questions, discussions, and thematic variations, the author and his readers undertake a journey of exploration of life’s contradictions and paradoxes. Taking that journey, in depth, leaves the traveler different at the end than at its start, for along the way, the reader has discovered, and partly through their own thoughtful exploration of the author’s words, that the only choice, and inherent to life’s experience, is acceptance of the absurdities and paradoxes intrinsic to it.[36] [37]

In this way, what began as a lament of discomfiture at life’s impossible contradictions, ends as a statement of their factuality and acceptance. As we initially began peeling away the layers of life’s onion, and realizing that things don’t make as much sense as we intuitively feel they should, our natural, instinctive need for sense is disturbed. But at the journey’s end, once we’ve gone through the process of internalizing experience’s innate senselessness, its fuller realization and our more complete understanding that it’s all simply part of life’s inherence, permits us to accept things for what they are; and having done that, our experience becomes all the easier for it, rather than harder. Things are not really meant to make sense anyhow, they never completely will, and in the final analysis, it gives us permission to take our life in hand once again, accept it, make of it its best, and live it calmly[38] and productively,[39] prudently and judiciously,[40] happily[41] and to the fullest of our efforts.[42] Like the t-shirt that reads, “Relax, nothing is under control”, the excision of our attempts at understanding releases us from them when they don’t serve us well.

Relax, do what you can to live a good life… “before the silver cord snaps, before the golden cup shatters…[43]

.הבל הבלים אמר הקוהלת הכל הבל

[1] The author is the creator of the youtube channel “Understanding Kohelet”, here.
[2] בבא בתרא טו-א
[3] See, e.g., here. Ibn Ezra also seems to note that at least some of the book’s editing was done after the first temple period, for example at 2-25. In other verses as well, ibn Ezra and other commentators note language and word choices resembling writing of times closer to the Rabbinic period. See also the Preface to Mossad Harav Kook’s edition of Kohelet, Section 5, Part 4.
[4] קהלת רבא א-א, סנהדרין כ-ב
[5] In its simple reading, the double havel havulim can be understood as emphasis, i.e., the epitome of vanity, or utter vanity, similar to the words shir hashirim, and many other double words used in Tanach. In a deeper sense it can also be understood to intimate that huvel, meaninglessness, is itself also meaningless (a double negative that cancels itself out), because by the end of the book, and through its exploration, we discover together with the author, that in as much as things can never be fully and truly understood, an overemphatic focus on meaninglessness is itself meaningless and purposeless.
[6] In referring to air, the author is foreshadowing the many other verses in which the book uses air and wind to represent the ephemeral, fleeting nature of life and experience, e.g., 1-6, 1-14, 12-7, and many others.
[7] Not in the contemporarily more common use of the word vain, as narcissistic pride, but vain as futile.
[8] Not with its commonly used definition of farcically ridiculous, but something much closer to its existentialist philosophic meaning of senselessness, as used in, for example, Albert Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus.
[9] If our attempt to pin down a precise meaning for the word huvel is frustrated, we are not the first to experience such frustration, for R Sa’adia Gaon, as well, mentions five potential Arabic translations of the word.

Defining the book’s theme through a word that has many translations and interpretations is in no way coincidental, for that is a practice and theme throughout the work, using words and constructing phrases in such ways that exploration and thought is required to unpack and fully understand them in their context, and through such exploration and understanding, different aspects of the intended message are communicated.
[10] The letter vet in ancient Hebrew was pronounced with a “w” sound, similar to its contemporary Yemenite pronunciation.
[11] This is true of much of Tanach, an appreciation of which has been lost due to historic changes in reading style and pronunciation.
[12] The phrase havel havulim umar kohelet may also allude to the fact that even the statements and attempts of the author to examine the world and its meaning are also impossible and vain, as elaborated upon later on in the book, for example chapter 1, verses 8, 13, and 17, and chapter 7, verse 23. So the analysis too, and the attempt at finding meaning, is itself meaningless. See also Ralbag at 12-8.
[13] The poetry and onomatopoeia comes through best when the sentences are read with the sound, pronunciation and syllabic emphasis of original, ancient Hebrew.
[14] All the rivers go to the sea, and the sea is not full; to the place the rivers go, there they return to go.
[15] Circling in circulation, goes the wind, and on its circulation, returns the wind.
[16] For like the sound of the twigs under the pot, so is the laugh of the fool.
[17] In fact, the sounds are very similar to the English words, ‘cackle’ and ‘hiss’, which themselves sound like their meaning.
[18] If the snake bites, without a hiss/spell, and there is no advantage to the master of the tongue.
[19] For there may be a person whose efforts are with intelligence and with wisdom, and with suitability, and to a person who expended no effort over it, he gives (it to) him, his portion.
[20] See Targum, which translates the phrase as יתנניה למהוי חולקיה, “he gives it to become his portion”, clearly reading the portion as attached to the receiver, presumably because of the otherwise odd double subject reference. Ibn Ezra also reads chelko as referring to a subject receiver. Rashbam too, reads chelko as attaching to the receiver, but states that the giver in yitenenu is God (presumably due to the otherwise double subject reference), and in this reading perhaps yitnenu means “it shall be given [by God]”, rather than he shall give it, since the giver in yitnenu is not referring back to the person described in the first half of the sentence.

On the other hand, R Sa’adia Gaon’s commentary clearly translates chelko as referring to the giver. R Moshe Yitzchok Ashkenazi (Tedeschi) in Ho’il Moshe also provides a grammatical reading of the sentence in which chelko refers to the giver.

Reading yitnenu as attaching to the receiver’s object referred to in chelko is also somewhat supported by the ta’amim, since yitnenu is given a munach, tying it to its succeeding word chelko, rather than to its preceding phrase (i.e., the phrase ‘he gives’ modifies ‘his portion’, rather than any object that may have been described earlier in the sentence, in amulo or in bo). Consider also that the object being passed from the giver to the receiver has not yet been explicitly articulated into the sentence prior to the appearance of the word chelko, since, arguably, amulo is describing only the giver’s efforts, not the fruit of those efforts, which would be the object actually being passed; and the word bo in and of itself, does not either provide the sentence with a subject.
[21] Mordechai Zer-Kavod in the Mossad Harav Kook edition of Kohelet describes a third potential subject to which chelko might refer, which is the fruits of the giver’s labor, and in this reading the word chelko means “part of”, i.e., a part of the giver’s possessions, and the sentence reads as, “For there is a person whose efforts are with intelligence… and to a person that labored not for it, he gives part of it.” See also Rashi on the verse for a similar formulation based on midrash.
[22] In Kohelet 1-13, the verse includes a similar formulation

ונתתי את־לבי לדרוש ולתור בחכמה על כל־אשר נעשה תחת השמים הוא ענין רע נתן אלהים לבני האדם לענות בו

and Targum, ibn Ezra and Tanchum Yerushalmi provide a similar translation to the words inyan and la’anot in that verse, while Metzudat Tzion provides a similar translation for the word la’anot, although not for the word inyan, and Ri Karo provides a similar translation for the word inyan, although not for the word la’anot.
[23] It is quite possible that the root of the word enu as it is used in phrases like

עלי באר ענו לה, במדבר כא יז, ענו לה׳ בתודה, תהלים קמז ז, ביום ההוא כרם חמר ענו לה, ישעיהו כז ב

is also related to the word celebration, although in these cases it is also, and perhaps more closely, related to word respond or say.
[24] See for example, Ibn Ezra, Ramban, Ralbag and R’ Avraham ben Harambam, although others provide different translations of the word in this sentence too.
[25] See Rashbam and Ralbag, although there are also other ways to translate the word in this sentence as well.
[26] In reviewing the related words and meanings in all of these similar verses, as parsed through the various commentaries, it seems to me also that the general word inyan in this reading, as meaning something close to an engagement, or more simply a thing, something that is, may also be etymologically related to use of the similar word and root for the concept of residing in or simply being in, as in the word ma’on.
[27] In some cases these translations are in Kohelet 1-13, and as between the different commentators, they are provided with varying nuance as to the precise translation and word usage.
[28] In the larger context of the chapter, this sentence is a response to the verses coming just before it, which read,

לכל זמן, ועת לכל חפץ, תחת השמים. עת ללדת ועת למות… עת לאהב ועת לשנא, עת מלחמה ועת שלום. מה יתרון העושה באשר הוא עמל

This well-known section of Kohelet questions the point of a life of constant change and dissolution, where the pendulum of experience always swings from one side to the other, and where every effort invested, and even the things invested in, often ends and changes to its opposite; and therefore, the question is begged, “what advantage the doer in such that he toils?”

It is this question that the present verse responds to, explaining that these fluctuations and changes in expended effort, and in life and experience, in fact have as their purpose the engagement and exercise of people in and with their life and experiences. In other words, the goal settings, fluctuations, achievements, disappointments, moving goal-posts, and corrections, are actually the very things that create the life of engagement and attunement, and a life lived in one straight line would be pointless and meaningless, and lacking in engagement.

The other translations as well, are responsive to the prior verses and question in a similar way. The frustrated and constantly changing efforts can be seen as a form of immiseration that people are afflicted with (in this reading, the present verse in 3-10, is simply extending the question and problem discussed in the prior verse), or they can be seen as challenges which can be invigorating, and bring a person joy when approached from the perspective of, and with a purpose to, building and improving.
[29] This is a good representative illustration of a lot of the messaging in Kohelet, which often revolves around purpose, perception and meaning, and how these are multi-layered, and appear different from different vantage points, or when different factors or interpretations are brought to bear. This is also the key to understanding the many seeming ‘contradictions’ in Kohelet (בבלי, שבת ל׳ ב׳) – for when the meanings and contexts of what are being said are fully understood, they are clearly seen not to be contradictions at all.
[30] And in a fifth translation, which fits right in alongside the rest and is related to witness, the word la-anot can also mean to respond, see medrash rabah here, and ibn Ezra at Kohelet 1-13. And, believe it or not, with these five translations we have still not exhausted all the possible translations of the word as used in the sentence, see for example Rashi, Ri Karo, and Tanchum Yerushalmi in the parallel verse at Kohelet 1-13, each with other, additional translations.
[31] In fact it might questionably even be called an “event” at all.
[32] This theme comes up in art too, for example in Albert Camus’ “The Stranger”, and Jonathan Blow’s “The Witness”.
[33] This verse is a good example of what we find with many of the verses and statements in Kohelet, which is that they can be translated and interpreted from a number of different vantage points, with several layers of meanings able to be peeled back like layers of an onion, while all of those layers of meaning interact with, and nest within, each other to provide an ultimate interpretation and meaning to the sentence. And while it’s easy to assume that some or many of these interpretations are unintentional, and arise coincidentally due to the poetic nature of the text, or due to the brevity of ancient Hebrew which, because it has relatively few words compared to other languages, consequently more meanings and translations for each of its words; on closer reading and familiarity with the nuances of the book’s style and messaging it seems likely that the varied and rich layers of meaning were seeded intentionally.
[34] Rashbam notes that the book’s ending, from this verse on, was appended at a later time by its editors. This is also evident from the style, tone and content of verses 12-9 through 12-14, which differ from the rest of the book. See also Ralbag, Ho’il Moshe at 12-7, and Metzudas Dovid, Shadal at 12-8. It’s also possible that verses 1-2, and 12-8 (the two bookending huvel verses), which more closely resemble the rest of the book, were part of the original earlier work, while verses 1-1 and 12-9 through 12-14 were added later as a kind of prologue and epilogue. See also FN 3 regarding the book’s editing.
[35] The end of the book and its beginning also mirror each other in that the lead-in from the summary sentence to the rest of the book (verses 1-4 to 1-7), and the lead out from the book to the closing summary sentence (verses 12-2 to 12-7) are composed of evocatively colorful imagery, which express their messages of the ephemerality of existence and the eventuality of life’s and of experience’s end, not only in the literal statements of their message, but also in the impressionist emotions that their images create in the reader. As well, some of the same elemental imagery of earth, sun, air and water is mirrored between the start of the book and its end (compare Chapter 1 verses 4, 5, 6 and 7 with Chapter 12 verses 2, 6 and 7).
[36] One cannot point to any one verse that states the premise of this point explicitly, rather it is an idea that develops organically and expands its realization over the course of the work in the perceptions experientially realized by the reader through their effort in working through the book’s perambulatory contemplations and exploratory deliberations. One can point in support, however, among various verses, to 9-7 through 9-10, which in a sense can be seen as the conclusion of the first part of the book (which begins at 1-12). Arguably, it is the author’s intent is for the reader to discover the point’s salience for themself as they work through the book’s ideas together with the author.
[37] That the present verse’s summary conclusion is a result of the conclave of ideas preceding it is also supported by the verse’s choice of wording, ‘umar hakohelet‘, with the definitive article, ‘the’ kohelet – for it is the gathering together and synthesizing of the various strands of thought through the course of the book that produce the conclusions reached at its end. In this interpretation we translate the word kohelet as ‘a coming-together’ or a ‘gathering (n.)’, as in ‘the results of the act of gathering’, or ‘the things that have been gathered’, conjugating the root verb ko-h-el, similar to words such as toelet and pesolet.

Interestingly, the same conjugation of the root also produces the feminine verb, a point made by wordplay in Chapter 7, verse 27, where, as compared to the word construction in our present sentence, the author changed the word kohelet from a noun to a feminine verb simply by moving the letter ‘heh’ over one word (changing amrah kohelt to amar hakohelet).
[38] 12-3 to 4, in its emotional resonance.
[39] E.g., Chapter 11, generally.
[40] Verses 11-8 to 12-1.
[41] Verses 9-7 to 9, and 11-8 to 9.
[42] Verse 9-10.
[43] Verse 12-6.