Pekudai: Crafty Artisans
In discussing the craftsmanship and expertise of Betzalel and Ohaliav — who were instrumental in the construction of the Tabernacle and its associated paraphernalia — the Torah uses the terms charash, choshev, and rokem (Ex. 35:35, 38:23). On the surface, all three terms seem to be synonymous in reference to specific skills and abilities that these two men possessed, but the commentators show the nuances expressed by the use of these three distinct terms. This essay explores those nuances and discusses other words that are etymologically-adjacent to these three words to help gain a better appreciation of what the Torah meant to convey when describing Betzalel and Ohaliav’s talents.
In a somewhat cryptic passage, the Talmud (Yoma 72b) explains that choshev and rokem both refer to sorts of “embroidery,” but that choshev refers to embroidery via weaving which produces “two faces,” while rokem refers to embroidery via stitching which produces “one face.” Rashi (to Yoma 72b, there 26:1, 26:31) explains that the Talmud means that both of these terms refer to a double-sided embroidery: choshev refers to weaving an image (say a lion) on one side of a fabric, weaving another image (say an eagle) on one side of another fabric, and then combining them into a two-plied fabric with different images on each of its sides (a lion and an eagle). On the other hand, rokem refers to the more advanced ability to embroider a symmetrical image into one fabric such that it can be seen in the same way from both sides of the fabric. Maimonides (Laws of Klei HaMikdash 8:15) and Abarbanel (to Ex. 26:1) explain that rokem refers to the ability to embroider an image on one side of a fabric (leaving the other side empty, per Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky in Derech Chochmah), while choshev refers to what Rashi explained as rokem. Either way, it is telling that neither the Talmud, nor the above-mentioned commentators, discussed what charash means in relation to all of this.
Rabbi Shmuel David Luzzatto (1800–1865), known as Shadal, offers an evolutionary model for understanding the etymology of rokem and how it relates to choshev. He argues that rokem originally referred to a sort of primitive embroidery that was done without a needle, but rather entailed drawing certain picture/shapes onto a fabric and then somehow attaching that fabric onto a different fabric (like a sort of patch). He sees rokem’s three-letter root REISH-KUF-MEM as related to the triliteral KUF-REISH-MEM (krum, “membrane/tissue/epidermis”) — via metathesis, that is, the rearrangement of the consonants — which denotes a surface “skin” that overlays something underneath it. This fits with how Shadal conceived of the rokem in the original sense.
As Shadal explains it, afterwards, newer technologies were introduced that allowed stitching the picture into the fabric itself directly, without adding one piece of fabric on another. Yet, one skilled in the ability to do this continued to be called a rokem, whose etymology actually relates to the original way of doing things. After that, people became clever enough to be able to create shapes within the embroidery itself, marking a significant advancement in the craft that required skill and intellectual effort. Because this sort of thoughtful craft required much expertise and contemplation to achieve, the term for one engaged in this type of artisanship is choshev, which is cognate with the word machshavah (“thought/thinking/contemplating”).
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch (to Ex. 26:1) offers a similar explanation that connects REISH-KUF-MEM to REISH-GIMMEL-MEM (via the interchangeability of KUF and GIMMEL) to argue that just as the latter refers to "stoning" a person to death by piling stones upon him, so does the former apply to one who weaves an embroidered fabric in such a way that it appears as though the foreground image was piled on top of its background. [For more about the triliteral root REISH-GIMMEL-MEM, see my earlier essay, “Getting Stoned” (May 2023).]
Rabbi Yonah (Marwan) Ibn Janach (990–1050) authored Sefer HaDikduk, which was one of the first studies on the Hebrew language. In his introduction to that work, he explains that he divides this book into two parts, the first is called Sefer HaRikmah (“the Book of Embroidery”) and the second is called Sefer HaShorashim (“the Book of Roots”). While the second part deals exclusively with the etymological/lexical roots of words in the Hebrew language, the first part deals with a wide array of grammatical, orthographic, morphological, lexical, syntactic, and linguistic issues related to the Hebrew language. Ibn Janach writes that because of the wide range of topics discussed in that first part of his book, he called it Sefer HaRikmah in allusion to rikmot ha’adamah, a phrase which referred to botanical gardens in which multiple species were planted, which harkens back to the Biblical concept of rokem, defined as “one who produces fabrics comprised of multiple colors.” Radak (to Jud. 5:30, Ezek. 17:3, and in Sefer HaShorashim) also defines rokem as one who weaves or sews a multicolored textile. [Interestingly, I have been unable to find the phrase rikmot ha’adamah used anywhere else besides Ibn Janach’s introduction. It should be pointed out, though, that Ibn Janach’s work was originally written in Judeo-Arabic and was only later translated in Hebrew.]
Rabbi Shlomo Pappenheim (1740–1814) offers a long exposition on the words charash and choshev, which is partially cited by Rabbi Yaakov Tzvi Mecklenburg (1785–1865) in HaKtav V’HaKabbalah (to Ex. 35:35). He explains that the primary meaning of the triliteral root CHET-REISH-SHIN, from whence charash derives, refers to the act of "plowing" (choresh) a field. That action is carried out in order to prepare a field for sowing, which makes "plowing" an important preliminary labor in almost any agricultural endeavor, albeit the farmer's final objective is never to simply plow the land, but to actual plant something.
Due to the importance of plowing in agrarian society, the three-letter root that represented that sort of labor was borrowed to refer to other important artistries related to preparing things. In that way, the craft of taking wood, stones, or metals and preparing them for various constructive uses is called charash. Hence, the word charash is used to refer to a metalsmith (Gen. 4:22, Isa. 44:12, Ezra 3:7, II Chron. 24:12), or to a craftsman who works with wood (Ex. 31:5, 35:33, Isa. 44:13, II Sam. 5:11, II Kgs. 12:12, I Chron. 22:15) or stone (Ex. 28:11, 31:5, 35:33, II Sam. 5:11). As Rabbi Pappenheim explains it, because such artistry requires expert planning and deliberation, the very act of "thinking" and "planning" also became associated with this three-letter root (for examples, see Jud. 16:2, I Sam. 23:9, Prov. 3:29, Isa. 3:3, Job 4:8).
In this way, choshev is the counterpart to charash because it is also etymologically-related to the act of "thinking/planning." In fact, Radak and Ibn Janach in their respective Sefer HaShorashim note that the triliteral root CHET-SHEN-BET (from which choshev derives) produces the common words for “thinking/considering/calculating” in Hebrew: choshev (“thinking”), machshavah (“thought”), cheshbon (“calculation/tabulation”), chashuv (“[considered as] important”), etc… This continues into Modern Hebrew, which coined related words like machshevon (“calculator”), machshev (“computer”), and cheshbonit (“invoice”).
Rabbi Pappenheim thus explains that choshev implies deliberate pre-planning and designing in the saense that the choshev must know the exact dimensions in which he needs his materials to be. Moreover, he relates choshev to cheshbon because the choshev must be cognizant of the quantitative aspects of the materials he uses (like its dimensions, or how many units are needed for the project).
That said, Rabbi Pappenheim differentiates between charash and choshev by explaining that the choresh is expert at changing materials from their natural state to use them for whatever purposes deemed necessary, while a choshev takes materials as is to arrange them and combine them in constructive ways. For example, a charash might take a stone and chisel it to create certain image, or might cut wood to produce a beam of a specific shape/size, or might melt down a metal to shape it into something useful. In all these cases, the charash makes changes to the actual raw materials that he has been given. By contrast, the choshev might join together a dye and a fabric to create a colored cloth, or he might lay out multiple fabrics together such that they form a specific picture or tapestry. Based on this, Rabbi Pappenheim suggests that perhaps since the choshev does not actually effectuate a change in the actual materials — but only arranges them in a creative way — the word choshev relates to "thinking/planning," which is a more abstract form of creativity than the more concrete acts in which the charash engages.
Targum Onkelos translates these three words into separate Aramaic terms, rendering charash as uman, choshev as nagar (“carpenter/woodworker” in Modern Hebrew), and rokem as tzayar (“painter” in Modern Hebrew). Although none of these words appear in the Bible, the word uman appears many times in the Mishnah (for example, Bikkurim 3:3, Pesachim 4:6, Kiddushin 4:14, Sanhedrin 3:4, Avodah Zarah 5:7, Erachin 6:3, Taharot 7:3) and has a close relative that appears once in the Bible, aman (Song of Songs 7:2). Machberet Menachem defines an uman as any sort of artisan or craftsman, while Radak (in Sefer HaShorashim) implies that only an expert in his field may be called such.
The remainder of this essay is dedicated to the word charash in the sense of “artisan/craftsman,” and various insights related to that terminology. Rabbi Yehudah Aryeh of Carpentras (an 18th century grammarian and dayan) writes in Aholei Yehuda that the word charash is related to the word cheiresh (“mute” or “deaf-mute”) because since this type of artisan would generally focus in silence when working, as he typically required much thought and deliberation in his craft. [For a more elaborate discussion of the word cheiresh, see “To Remain Silent” (March 2020).]
The prophet Isaiah foretold of a time when the people in the Kingdom of Judah will be exiled and Jerusalem will be bereft of a whole cast of important actors, like kings, judges, prophets, warriors, advisors, and chacham charashim (Isa. 3:3). Indeed, when Jerusalem was first sacked by the Babylonians and its prominent residents were taken into exile with Jeconiah, the Bible reports that the charash and masger were amongst those taken away (II Kgs. 24:14, 24:16, Jer. 29:2). But what does chacham charashim mean?
Following the Talmud (Gittin 88a and Sanhedrin 38a), Rashi (to Isa. 3:3) explains that chacham charashim refers to a skilled Torah Scholar whose mastery is so evident that when he begins to speak in Torah, everyone else become like a cheiresh (“mute”) because they have nothing to say back. Malbim (to Isa. 3:3) takes a slightly different approach, seeing the word charashim as related to “plowing.” When one plows a field, one furrows through the ground to create an opening ripe for agronomic cultivation. In the same way, explains Malbim, a wise sage plows through bodies of knowledge to plumb the depths of those ideas by thoroughly investigating the subject matters under consideration. One who has mastered this mode of study may be called a chacham charashim, literally “wiseman among plowers.”
Other commentators explain charashim as related to charash (“artisan/craftsman” or “thinking/planning”): Rabbi Yosef Kara, Ibn Ezra, and the Vilna Gaon (to Isa 3:3) all explain that chacham charashim refers to a “wise artisan” who can financially support himself via his own handiwork. On the other hand, Radak and Metzudat David (there) explain charashim in the “thinking/planning” sense mentioned above, thus explicating the term chacham charashim as a reference to a “master artisan” (literally, “wiseman amongst thinkers”), under whom beginner apprentices might study their craft.
Interestingly, charash is also the standard word in Targumic Aramaic for one who engages in kishuf (for example, see Targum Onkelos to Ex. 22:17 on the word michashefah). The Talmud also uses the Aramaic term charash as a stand-in for "witch/warlock" (see Rashi to Brachot 62a, Shabbat 75a, Pesachim 110a, Bava Metzia 29b, Chullin 84b). The Yemenite poet Rabbi Shalom Shabazi (1619–1720) connects this Aramaic term to the “mute” meaning of the Hebrew root CHET-REISH-SHIN, because those who engaged in witchery would often cast their spells in a muted whisper. Dr. Alexander Kohut (1842–1894) in He'Aruch HaShaleim cites the Maskillic scholar Peretz Smolenskin (1842–1885) as explaining that charash in this sense actually relates to the "thinking/deliberating" meaning of that triliteral root, as witches and warlocks would typically perform the dark arts in a state of deliberate intent. Alternatively, we may add that this term relates to the “artist/craftsman” meaning of the root, as for some reason in Aramaic the default “artist/craftsman” engages in occultic activity. Perhaps this relates to the idea that Aramaic is a language associated with the Sitra Achra (literally, “the other side” i.e., the dark/evil side).
