The verb σφαλλω (sphallo) means to cause to fall or overthrow and in the classics is used of buildings but also of one's fortunes, or figuratively one's argumentations or one's solid reasons. It's a mystery where this verb came from. But in our article on the noun σειρα (seira), cord, we note that many Greek words occur with and without a leading sigma. That turns our attention to the English verb "to fall", which is rather similar to our σφαλλω (sphallo) without the leading sigma. However, even though "to fall" is part of a cluster of very similar verbs that occur from Norwegian to Lithuanian, their Indo-European roots are missing in action. And that implies the possibility that these verbs aren't Indo-European at all.

In our article on the many Hebrew roots of Greek we note that many Greek word are actually Hebrew, or seem to be. All this further directs our attentions to the formidable root פלל (palal), to intervene or intercede, and particularly the verb נפל (napal), to fall down. That latter verb נפל (napal) not only gave rise to the ever thought-provoking Nephilim, but also looks suspiciously similar to the Greek word νεφελη (nephele), cloud. This latter word not only describes a great group of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1), but also a mass of suspended water vapor from which rain tends to fall. The Hebrew verb for that is ירה (yara), from which derives the noun מורה (moreh), which literally describes an "agent of pouring" and applies both to autumn rain and to a teacher. Another derivation from that same verb is the familiar noun Torah, which describes many rules that add up to one Law.

But whatever the pedigree of our verb σφαλλω (sphallo), it does not occur in the New Testament independently and only as part of the following compound derivations:

The noun καπηλος (kapelos) denotes a shop- or innkeeper keeper, whose establishment would be known by the word ταβερνα (taberna), shop or tavern, from trabs, anything wooden (but in this case a wooden shop). From the latter comes the name Three Taverns, which was a commercial center on the Appian Way, a good day's march south of Rome.

Where our noun καπηλος (kapelos) comes from is a complete mystery, but creative wordplay is always more important in the Bible than technical etymologies. And so, the word "chapel" comes to mind, which derives from the Latin noun cappus, cloak, in turn possibly from caput, head, which suggests that an innkeeper might have been named after the place where folks hung up their traveling capes (and after a few drinks their heads too, likely). But that brings to mind the otherwise curious introduction of Saul (later Paul) in the New Testament, in whose care the men who would stone Stephen laid their cloaks (Acts 7:58). Add to this the observation that there was no room for Jesus in the inn, and quite a few apparent loose ends neatly to come together (also see our article on the name Tiberias).

Moreover, the word for crib or manger, in which Mary placed Jesus, is the common noun φατνη (phatne) and only Luke uses it. Slightly less common in the Greek classics is the semi-equivalent noun καφη (kaphe), manger or slobbering trough, from the verb καπτω (kapto), to gulp down. And that's the other often named possible source of our noun καπηλος (kapelos).

Here at Abarim Publications we would contribute to the clarity by once again pointing to the Hebrew noun we mention above, namely כפר (koper), meaning to tar over, which would surely be befitting a haunt of repose. It doesn't take much to turn a Semitic "r" into a European "l", and it must be remembered that the life of a human society sits in its economy (with money being its blood). The most fundamental quality of a properly operating economy is property rights, which is the first and most important thing that any ruler would defend, lest his realm collapses into a state of animal anarchy. This (and not some form of piety or prudence) is the reason why Pharaoh and king Abimelech twice, returned Sarah and Rebekah to their respective husbands Abraham and Isaac, who were these women's legal owners (see our article on γαμος, gamos, marriage).

A marriage is a legally binding contract that emerged from property law (meaning that the woman was a man's legal property and all other men respected that). And although this may seem somewhat unfair to modern audiences, it was a good sight better than survival of the fittest (or the fastest runner or the best hider). A covenant is a supernatural bond between parties that have no natural or biological bond between them: they're not siblings or friends and are not in any way invested in each other, and still bound together by an agreement. The most fundamental thing that everybody needs to know for any human society to function is what a covenant is, and how it works, and why it cannot ever be broken lest the world (i.e. the human κοσμος, kosmos) comes to an end.

Being human is not about biology because biologically we are precisely animals (Psalm 73:22, Ecclesiastes 3:18, 2 Peter 2:12, Jude 1:10). It's also not a matter of intelligence, because many animals are as intelligent as most people (Genesis 3:1, Proverbs 30:24-28, Psalm 148:10). What makes a human is the humanity of human society, and humanity comes from the covenant — not a particular covenant but any: the concept of the covenant. It's the covenant that makes the human, and humanity has always been centered upon the covenant (and no, neither it nor the box it's kept in were ever lost or have gone missing: Revelation 11:19).

Our noun καπηλος (kapelos), shopkeeper, is not used in the New Testament but from it comes: