Empty Nothingness (Part 1 of 2)
The Aleinu L’Shabeach prayer — which is recited multiple times daily and in the Amidah on Rosh Hashanah — declares the universal dominion of Hashem’s sovereignty and His special relationship with the Jewish People. That prayer contrasts the Jews who worship the “King — King of Kings, the Holy One, blessed be He” with other nations who serve hevel and rik. Those two terms denote the impotence and powerlessness of the imagined deities worshipped by the gentiles, and essentially amounts to the idea that those nations worship “nothing.” Later in that prayer, another word for “nothing” appears: “Our King is True, nothing (efes) exists besides Him.” In part one of this essay, we explore these three Hebrew words for “nothing” (hevel, rik, and efes), while in part two we will deal with the terms tohu and bohu used to describe the state of “nothingness” before the Six Days of Creation, and other words for “nothing” like blimah, meumah and klum.
The 13th century Provencal scholar Rabbi Avraham Bedersi uses a very peculiar methodology in his work Chotam Tochnit to differentiate between Hebrew synonyms: When dealing with a pair of similar-meaning words, he focuses on the order in which those words appear in the Bible whenever they occur near each other, and uses the words’ order to help clarify the difference between them. He postulates that when multiple terms for the same idea appear in tandem, the Bible uses those words in ascending order — from the least intense to the most intense.
The one time that the words hevel and rik appear in the Bible side by side (Isa. 30:7, cf. Isa. 49:4), they appear precisely in that order, first hevel and then rik (just like in the Aleinu prayer). Following his methodology, Rabbi Bedersi explains that hevel denotes a less intense form of “nothingness” than rik. The way he puts it, hevel refers to something that does exist (yesh), but has no purpose (to’elet), while rik refers to something that does not even exist!
Rabbi Shmuel Dovid Luzzatto (1800–1865), also known as Shadal, offers a comprehensive study that looks at the differences between these apparent synonyms. He explains that hevel refers specifically to something that on the surface appears to be advantageous or otherwise valuable, but will ultimately be shown to be worthless. An example of this is beauty, for on the surface aesthetic qualities do have some import, yet the Bible teaches that beauty is actually hevel (Prov. 31:30) as such qualities are ultimately meaningless.
In line with this, Rabbi Luzzatto explains the meaning of the name Hevel that Adam gave his son Abel (Gen. 4:2), arguing that at first, prima facia, Adam thought that Abel had the protentional to be one of the righteous progenitors of mankind; but in the end, Abel was killed before he was even able to produce any offspring, proving his futility. In expanding on this last explanation, Shadal surmises that Abel only received the name Hevel after he died, in retrospective consideration of his unfruitful life, not before the fact. This is why the Bible does not explicitly report that Eve named her son Abel, like it does when discussing his brothers Cain (Gen. 4:1) and Seth (Gen. 4:25).
Shadal continues to explain that the word rik refers specifically to the notion of one toiling and working hard to achieve something that instead yields “nothing.” This usage appears in multiple instances in the Bible, like when the Torah presents a curse to those who fail to keep the Torah “and you will sow your seed for naught [la’rik], as your enemies will eat it” (Lev. 26:16). In many instances, the word rik appears alongside the word yegiah (“toiling”), like in: Isa. 49:4, 65:23, and Job 39:16. Indeed, in the daily U’Va L’Tzion prayer, we request of Hashem that He open our heart to His Torah, and that He put love and fear of Him in our hearts, “so that we do not toil for rik.”
The Malbim (1809–1879) takes the exact opposite approach. He explains that hevel refers to that which is total “nothingness” and has no absolute value, while rik refers to something that has some value on the surface, but only when one digs deeper does one realize its folly.
In offering this explanation, Malbim compares the word rik to the similar word reik (“empty”), drawing an analogy to the shell or husk of something that has no interior and is thus “empty.” That shell itself may have some value, even though the item on the whole is still “empty,” and thus essentially amounts to “nothing.”
Another approach to differentiating between synonyms entails tracing each word back to its etymological forebear and seeing how it relates to its respective etymon. The champion of this approach is Rabbi Shlomo Pappenheim of Breslau (1740–1814), who traces the words hevel and rik to their core two-letter roots to shed light on their deeper meanings.
Rabbi Pappenheim traces rik to the biliteral root REISH-KUF, which means “emptying” or “depleting.” Based on this, Rabbi Pappenheim explains that rik means “nothing” or “vanity” in that it denotes something that is completely lacking in import, as though emptied or depleted of its very substance. The related word reikam (“naught”), with the additional final MEM, likewise describes an act or utterance which is performed “for no reason.”
Rabbi Pappenheim also lists many other words derived from this biliteral root, including: reik (“empty,” in reference to something that is supposed to be full, but is now empty or devoid of content), rak (“but/only,” used to describe something exceptional or that which lies outside the norm, as if they have been emptied or separated from the rest), merikah (“rinsing/washing,” an act which empties something of all dirty particles), tamrukin (“cosmetics,” treatment used to rinse the body of all impurities to leave it clean and pristine), marak (“soup/broth,” refers to a soupy liquid whose substance was distilled from the essence of a solid food), rok (“spit/spittle,” a liquid excretion emptied from one’s body), rakot (“slender/skinny,” i.e., the state of the body when emptied of flesh and fattiness), reket (“temple,” the area above the cheeks between the eyes and the side of the head, which is typically described as non-fleshy or fatty), rakik (“wafer,” a thin and brittle flatbread or cake that is not fried in oil, so it is lean and not fatty), and more (including yerek, yarok, yerakrak, rikmah, and rokem).
As an aside, it may be because of the etymological association between rik and rok that an old Ashkenazi custom developed to spit after saying the word va’rik that describes the object of pagan worship in the Aleinu prayer (this is still practiced in some circles, especially Chabad Chassidim).
Turning to the Hebrew word hevel, Rabbi Pappenheim lists that word in the context of the biliteral root BET-LAMMED, defined as “negation” and “loss of form.” In fact, he sees a whole bevy of words as deriving from this core root, including: bli (“without,” i.e., negation), aval (“but,” the negation of a previous clause), bilui (“worn out,” by which something loses its form), taivel (“the physical world,” because all physical entities are subject to wear and tear), neveilah (“animal carcass,” i.e., a decomposing dead creature), neivel (“leather flask” made from the skin of a neveilah), naval (“uncouth person,” one who lost his human form), and yevul (“produce,” as such groceries can easily rot and decompose if not properly preserved, or because such produce come from seeds that decompose in order to give way to what grows from them).
Along the same lines, Rabbi Pappenheim explains hevel as something “futile” in that it has almost no value and is thus negated. He further explains that hevel refers to something that is somewhat substantial, but is still mostly useless and pointless. Rabbi Yehudah Aryeh of Carpentras (an 18th century grammarian and dayan) similarly writes in Ohalei Yehuda that hevel is a portmanteau of hei (“this”) and balah (“is worn out/useless/depleted”).
In the Talmud, the term hevel refers to highly-intangible items, like vapors. For example, the Talmud refers to the hevel (“breathy utterances”) of the mouth of children (Shabbos 119b); a pit (bor) mainly causes damage by way of the hevel (“bad air”) inside it, as opposed to the blunt impact of one falling into the pit (Bava Kamma 53a); and insulating foods in certain materials that create heat are said to “add hevel” to those foods (Shabbos 34a). As Radak in Sefer HaShorashim explains, verbal utterances are considered hevel because they dissipate into the air very quickly and have no staying power. The same is true of bad air and hot air.
Interestingly, Rabbi Avraham Dovid Kobernick compares the root HEY-BET-LAMMED to its metathesized counterparts BET-LAMMED-HEY (bilui, “wearing out”) and LAMMED-HEY-BET (lahav, “flame”) by explaining that all three roots are expressions of destruction and nothingness: Hevel refers to something that is right now “nothing,” bilui refers to something on its way to becoming “nothing,” and lahav refers to that which consumes things and turns them into “nothing.” He contrasts these notions with their polar opposite — LAMMED-BET (lev, “heart”), which represents the mechanism that keeps things alive and running.
A Medeival Ashkenazi tradition sees the words hevel and rik in the Aleinu prayer as allusions to the Christian man-god Jesus, because the word hevel in gematria equals zol (“cheap/disgraced”), and va’rik in gematria equals the name Yeshu (the rabbinic term for “Jesus,” whose Hebrew name was Yeshua). In fact, the Bible itself already uses the word hevel in reference to idolatry (Deut. 32:21, II Kgs. 17:15) because that mode of worship is worthless and produces nothing of significance. This verbiage in the Aleinu prayer has actually made much trouble for Jews in Christian Europe throughout history, and because of the damning implications of this tradition, the line in which the phrase hevel va’rik appears in Aleinu has often been excised by censors.
Fascinatingly, even though the liturgy of Aleinu as we have it reads: “the seat of His honor (yikaru) is in the Heavens above,” some sources claim that there is an old custom (found in Seder Rav Amram Gaon) to refrain from saying yikaro (an inflection of the Aramaic word yakar for “honor”) because it is an anagram of the word va’rik, but rather one should use its synonym kevodo (an inflection of the Hebrew word kavod for “honor”) instead.
Going back to the name Hevel for Adam and Eve’s son, he was likely given this nomenclature because he only lived for a short amount of time (before he was killed by Cain), such that essentially his life was useless and totally unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Indeed, Christian writers like Martin Luther (1483–1546) and John Calvin (1509–1564) have various translated the name Hevel as meaning “vanity,” “unprofitable,” “useless,” “worthless,” or “a soon vanishing-vapor.”
However, Rabbeinu Nissim of Gerondi (to Gen. 4:1) and Gersonides (to Gen. 4:2) speculate that perhaps Abel was called Hevel because he was physically smaller than his brother Cain, such that his existence was less substantial and closer to “nothing” that his brother. Alternatively, they suggest that perhaps Abel’s parents Adam and Eve prophesied that Abel was destined to die young, so they named him Hevel to allude to his futile life.
When the Aleinu L’Shabeach prayer uses the term efes (“nothing”) to denote that there is no other potent power in the world besides for Hashem, that prayer mirrors a prophecy of Isaiah who uses the word efes in the same way (Isa. 45:14). In fact, the word efes in the Bible means “nothing” or “non-existent” (or “edge” of existence) some 36 times (according to Even Shoshan’s concordance). In another five cases, a verb form of efes (afes) is used to denote “destroying” or “emptying” something in a way that renders it useless or impotent. Essentially, efes is also a term of negation.
Another meaning of the Biblical Hebrew word efes is broadly synonymous with the words aval, rak, and ach: “but/however” (seven times in the Bible). Menachem Ibn Saruk in Machberet Menachem sees this meaning of efes as distinct from the meanings discussed in the previous paragraph. However, Radak in Sefer HaShorashim insinuates that all these meanings are interrelated. In this sense, efes is used as a conjunction word that serves to qualify, minimize, or outright negate that which was said before— as though one recanted or partially recanted one’s previous statement. This is similar to rendering that previous statement as “nothing” or at least “emptying” it of its previous meaning. [In Modern Hebrew, the word efes assumes a numeric import to convey the concept of “zero.”]
Rabbi Pappenheim traces the word efes to the biliteral root PEH-SAMECH, arguing that the initial ALEPH is extraneous to the core root. He defines the principle meaning of that two-letter root as “edge/end” of something. For example, Rabbi Pappenheim explains that when Jacob gifted his son Joseph with a ketonet passim (Gen. 37:3), this refers to a “pleated garment,” which has many “edges” (passim). In this sense, efes refers to something that reached its proverbial end and is therefore non-existent (or close to it). Other terms that Rabbi Pappenheim connects to this root include pesiyah (“expansion,” which moves the edges/ends of something by spreading outwards) and tefisah (“holding/grabbing,” a way of spreading one’s domain by grabbing more than before).
Rabbi Yitzchak Zeldin (18th century Germany) writes in Shoresh Yesha that both the words efes and its metathesized counterpart osef (“gathering”) are related to the root SAMECH-PEH (sof, “end/edge”), explaining that osef is a contraction of ein sof (“there is no end”) because it consciously tests the limits of the “end” by gathering more, while efes denotes something whose beginning and end meet (because it is non-existent or close to it). For more about the term osef/asifah, see “The Majestic Holiday of Gathering” (Sep. 2019). For more about the root SAMECH-PEH, see “The Amazing Multi-Named Joseph” (Dec. 2022).]
To be continued…