The invention of written language is a deeply fascinating subject to explore…at least for some people (ahem, nerd alert). How did cave paintings evolve into hieroglyphs and other pictographic writing? And from there, how did the alphabet emerge?
The English alphabet we use today was born in ancient Mesopotamia. Instead of using pictures to represent words or ideas, as in cuneiform and hieroglyphics, the earliest alphabet used pictures to represent
consonantal sounds. There are some 30 phonemes (phonetic sounds) in the world’s known spoken languages, whether it be Mandarin or German or English. An alphabet gave mankind the ability to write the thousands of words derived from these 30 phonemes with a finite number of symbols. Imagine the glorious simplicity of recording thousands of words simply by knowing some 20 to 30 phonetic symbols, contrasted with learning more than 2000 to 4000 hieroglyphs (or 55,000 Chinese characters).
Like our modern English alphabet, ancient Hebrew uses pictographs for its letters, of which there are 22 (consonants only; ancient Hebrew does not represent vowels as letters). The first letter of the Hebrew alphabet, the ALEPH, which is now represented by “אִ”, was originally an ox head. The second letter BETH, now characterized by “בֵּ”, was a picture of a tent or house. Our name for this system derives from these first two letters: ALEPH-BETH (in Greek, it is ALPHA BETA). For real language nerds, a good summary of this history is available at The Institute of Semitic Studies (
instituteofsemiticstudies.org/wordpress/languages/alphabet/).
One significance of pictographically representing phonemes is that the ancient sages of Judaism saw crucial symbolic meaning in the letters themselves which comprise the Hebrew words. So the letter AYIN (עַ) is the first letter of the word AYIN (עַיִן), which means “eye”. But symbolically, much more meaning is attached to it than mere physical sight. We could diverge into a long thread on that topic, but we shall save it for another day. Knowing the pictographic origins of the Hebrew Aleph-Beth, we can return to our ongoing and soon-to-be-concluded series on Hebrew words for “to say”.
We offered our final two selections in our previous post: AMAR and DABAR. They both can mean forms of “to say”, but we emphasized the point that their synonymous nature does not make them interchangeable. Just consider Leviticus 1:1, which in English reads: “The LORD called Moses and SPOKE to him from the tent of meeting, SAYING…”
The English word “spoke” has behind it the Hebrew AMAR, whilst “saying” is DABAR. Why would the Author of the Text use these two similar words in the same sentence, other than clunky repetitiveness? Because although similar, AMAR and DABAR are, in fact, different in profoundly significant respects. The Author intends to imply different meanings and intents with each word. Understanding this detail may not shake your theological foundations but may help you appreciate the Text in new and meaningful ways.
Let’s look at DABAR first. Like other words in our series, it can simply mean to speak or to say, but connotatively, it means to establish by decree. It is forceful or direct speech. Occasionally, DABAR is rendered as “to command” by English translators. Some (such as the writer Chaim Ben Torah) contend that it means to speak from the heart.
Pictographically, the three consonants that make up the word – D, B, and R – lead to a deeper understanding of how the Jewish sages interpreted its meaning. In Hebrew, these consonants are DALETH (דָ), BETH (בַ, pronounced as a “v” in this case), and RESH (ר).
The letter DALETH is also the Hebrew word for “door” (דֶּלֶת), and the letter originally was pictographically represented as a door (for more on this, Jeff Benner has written extensively at
ancient-hebrew.org). The rabbinic sages also note that the first two letters comprise the Hebrew word for "poor person" or “weak person”, DAL (דֶּלֶ), which was also the earlier name for this letter. The sages further reasoned that all of mankind is poor in that we own nothing in this world, and this realization is a “door” unto G-d Himself, unto His household.
The Hebrew word for house or household, of course, is BETH (בּיִת), the second letter in DABAR. The rabbinic sages noted that the letter BETH, the second letter in the ALEPH BETH, is the first letter in TORAH’s first word: BE-RESHITH (בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית). They wondered why G-d chose to begin His Word with the second letter, rather than the first. One answer is that we arrive at the beginning of TORAH, NOT at its beginning. The real beginning is G-d Himself, Who preexists the world and all that He created. (The sages also note that G-d created everything by speaking. Thus the entire created order is contained in the 22 letters of the ALEPH BETH. But that side trail deserves its own article.) In other words, we begin G-d’s story on page two or in chapter two; it is already in progress.
So, the second letter of DABAR – BETH – reminds us not only that G-d spoke the world into existence, but also that He has spoken a household into existence, which we enter by His door (DALETH).
The third letter in DABAR is RESH (ר), which happens to be the Hebrew word for “head” (רֹאשׁ). As with English, the Hebrew does not just mean the part of the anatomy that sits atop your neck. Head can mean “chief” (as in head of household), beginning (as in the holiday we just experienced, ROSH HA-SHANAH, which is literally “head of the year”), or summit (as in the top of a mountain).
at DABAR represents G-d’s Word, in the person of Jesus the Messiah, who is not only our door, but also the Household of whom we are a part, and of Which He is the Head.
Getting behind the Engish translation, whichever your preferred one is, to the Hebrew or Greek text which underlies it, yields powerful dividends which can enrich your faith and your journey with Messiah. Next, we will conclude this long-running series by looking at AMAR.
