The noun ελεφας (elephas) means elephant (same word), and this animal is first mentioned in extant Greek literature in the works of the 5th century BCE historian Herodotus, who considered the creature a native of Africa. Only at the time of Aristotle, mentions begin to be made of the Indian elephant. And only at the time of Alexander, the elephant became a commonly known creature, particularly as a war machine. Hannibal famously marched upon Rome with among his troops a contingent of thirty-seven war elephants. Elephants are the biggest and most formidable animals on land, which may help to explain why the name Caesar (explained as from an African word for elephant) became an imperial title. Judging from equivalents in Arabic, the proverbial act of swallowing a camel (Matthew 23:24) or running one through the eye of a needle (Matthew 19:24), may originally have featured elephants.

However, as far back as Homer, ivory is referred to by our word ελεφας (elephas), and this implies that the animal was named after ivory rather than ivory after the animal. Herodotus is the first to refer to ivory as ελεφαντος οδοντες (elephantos odontes), or elephantine teeth, i.e. ivory teeth (not elephant teeth). This is significant because Homer uses our word solely to refer to the proverbial "gates of horn and ivory", whose image continued to be evoked from Plato's Charmides to Virgil's Aeneid: "For there are two gateways set up for fleeting dreams of which one is constructed from horn, the other from ivory. Those dreams that come through the gate of sawn ivory are deceptive, bringing words that remain unfulfilled. But those that emerge from the gate of polished horn presage the truth for anyone who beholds them" (Od.19.562-567, in the 2018 translation by Peter Green).

This image of the two gates of horn and ivory ties into the greater gate-motif that is found all over ancient literature, and most fundamentally tells of certain faculties of the mind, namely how one's mind filters information, and somehow manages to pre-select between the information it wants to absorb and other information it rejects. This motif occurs from the "gates" upon which the people of God write the words of God (Deuteronomy 6:9), to the entirely removed gates of Gaza (Judges 16:1-3), the deceptively circumvented Scaean Gate of Troy (Il.3.145, Od.8.492), the twelve pearly gates of the New Jerusalem (Revelation 21:21) and the gates of the kingdom of heaven and hell (Matthew 16:18-19).

The specific image of the gates of horn and ivory derives from wordplay. The word for horn, namely κερας (keras), resembles the verb κραινω (kraino), to fill, from which English gets the word "cranium". In our article on κερας (keras), we further point out the obvious similarity with the Hebrew noun קרן (qeren), meaning horn or ray, from the verb קרן (qaran), to have horns or to radiate. For reasons why a Hebrew word may have been the source (or helped to form) the Greek term for the same item, see our article on the many Hebrew roots of Greek.

Our noun ελεφας (elephas) resembles the verb ελεφαιρομαι (elephairomai), to deceive (not used in the New Testament), but the origin of either is obscure. This means that it is not clear whether ivory was named after deception or deception after ivory. But this is rather crucial because the very throne of Solomon was made from ivory (1 Kings 10:18). The elephant's most striking feature is its nose — its bizarre opposable proboscis (προβοσκις, proboskis, from βαλλω, ballo, to throw or cast), that can not only smell but also grab things and spout water and help the animal breathe when it's swimming in water and all others drown — and as late as the nineteenth century CE, the association between a weirdly growing nose and the act of lying was evidently so natural that it featured most prominently in the story of Pinocchio (1883).

Pinocchio in turn was a stick figure — a category this character shares with Herr Steckelbein, peg-legged Captain Ahab, Meneer Spillebeen or Meester Prikkebeen, and of course the scary teacher in the cartoon part of Pink Floyd's Another Brick In The Wall; also see our article on Three Taverns — whose pale, thin limbs betrayed his indoor academic, administrative or legislative occupations in contrast to the "honest" labor performed by field-romping suntanned muscular laborers and proletarians (and their precious butterfly souls; see our article on Frogs, Jews and Republics - Love and the Butterfly Ball). And all this while the name Jacob means Deceiver or Manipulator and Esau means He Who Does The Work. The name of Esau's mountain, namely Seir, is closely similar to the Hebrew word for gate, namely שער (sha'ar).

It's been proposed that our noun ελεφας (elephas) relates to the Egyptian word for elephant, which in turn has to do with words that tell of cessation or going slow (and note the parallel with the name Colossae), but while these Egyptian words (yb and 'bw) indeed exist, their relations with our Greek word are not at all obvious and rather more clearly relate to our English word "ivory" (which comes to us via the Latin eboreus, ivory).

Here at Abarim Publications we contrarily suspect (as did the 19th century theologian August Friedrich Pott) that our noun ελεφας (elephas) instead ultimately relates to the Hebrew noun אלף ('elep), which describes a mature bovine. Long before Herodotus declared that tusks were teeth, people who had never seen an elephant would have much more likely imagined that tusks were horns, from some monstrously large ox-like beast. And although that makes perfect sense, this observation merits further considerations:

The regular Hebrew word for ox is בקר (baqar), see 1 Kings 7:44, or שור (shor), see Hosea 12:2, Exodus 21:28. A calf was called עגל ('egel), Leviticus 9:2. A young bull was called פר (par), Exodus 29:1. And a wild one was called ראם (re'em), Psalm 92:10. All these words stem from verbs that have to do with the fact that from afar, a herd looks like a single huge steaming and heaving mass, while up close, the individuals becomes clear as "distinguished" elements of the hitherto solid herd. Hence verbs בקר (baqar) and פרר (parar) mean to split or divide, and in turn came to be used to mean to discern or investigate, not unlike the Greek verb σχιζω (schizo), to split and thus investigate (hence our English word "science"). Verbs שור (shur) and רום (rum) mean to excite or be raised, and speak of preference and things consciously noted to pop out from their environment that is only subconsciously registered if at all.

Unlike us moderns, who regard oxen as proverbially dumb and slow, people in the old world held oxen and bulls in the highest regard and associated them with consciousness and learning. The word for calf, namely עגל ('egel), derives from the verb עגל ('agal), which means to be circular or move in a circular motion. That is remarkable because the word for sleep, namely שנא (shena') relates to שנן (shanan), to repeat, whereas from another verb that means to go in circles, namely חול (hul), comes the nouns חלום (halom), dream, and אחלמה ('ahlama), or dream stone (in Greek: αμεθυστος, amethustos), which was nicknamed "calf's eye" because it was associated with the rising sun, the "calf" of the "night-cow": hence the "golden calf" (עגל, 'egel: Exodus 32:4). This is probably also why the Hebrew word for morning, namely בקר (baqar), is the same as the word for ox, from the verb בקר (baqar), to split or discern. From the other verb that means to split or discern, namely פרר (parar), additionally comes the noun פרא (para'), meaning wild donkey. This is striking because the Greek word for the foal of a donkey, namely οναριον (onarion), looks like a diminutive of οναρ (onar), dream, hence Jesus' triumphant entry (through the gate) of Jerusalem (Matthew 21:5).

Our noun אלף ('elep), meanwhile, which describes a mature bovine, relates to the verb אלף ('alep), which means to learn. From that same verb derives the name of the letter א ('aleph) and ultimately the word "alphabet", and see our article on the name YHWH for the significance of that.

Our noun אלף ('elep) specifically describes domesticated cattle: the kind of oxen that could be yoked together because they had learned to move synchronously with the other ox(en) and ultimately with the will of the driver: hence, "Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me" (Matthew 11:29), and see Paul's rhetorical question, "God is not concerned about oxen, is He?" (1 Corinthians 9:9).

In evolutionary terms, this social synchronicity is a prerequisite for the emergence of language: without it, language does not come about. Social synchronicity is also the foundation of χαρις (charis), social felicity, which Paul declared salvific or at least a vehicle of salvation (Ephesians 2:5). Social synchronicity is what law is based on, and ultimately the very essence of being human. But social synchronicity is more fundamental than reason, rationality or logical thought, because all these require language, and social synchronicity is more fundamental than language. But it is also greater than reason because where words fail, there is the love of Christ that surpasses all knowledge (Ephesians 3:19) and the peace of God that transcends all understanding (Philippians 4:7). This is why there is joy that is unspeakable (2 Corinthians 12:4, 1 Peter 1:8).

Language is an island in a much greater ocean of social synchronicity, which is why within the grand arch of the Word of God, there can be such a thing as the human birth of the Logos, his human walk on earth, and the human death of the Logos, and his subsequent resurrection in realities where spoken words cannot reach. It's probably also why dry land sits not merely within an ocean of water, but also atop the waters "under" the earth (Exodus 20:4, Psalm 24:2), and below the waters suspended as clouds (νεφελη, nephele) in the sky.

It's relatively easy to change one's mind as long as the change effects one's conscious knowledge. It's much more difficult to change one's heart of hearts, one's intuitions and reflexes and one's nightly dreams (Daniel 2:30). The dry land of rational human consciousness can be plowed and formed and sown with factual information, but human subconsciousness cannot because the waters of the human soul has depths where no words can reach and from which, at times, arise mental monsters that we didn't knew we contained, that crash violently upon the shores of our reason, and flood it without mercy and destroy whatever certainties had managed to root. Water that is useful comes from above: the Hebrew word for teacher, namely מורה (moreh), is identical to a word for rain, and both derive from the verb ירה (yara), which describes the bringing about of a unified effect by means of many little impulses (arrows, stones, words, instructions, rain drops, and so on). Another derivation of that same verb is the familiar word Torah: law.

And so, there are two kinds of learning: there is the factual information that falls like a solitary seed into the acre of one's candid mind, where it germinates and begins to absorb nutrients and grows forth into something fruit-bearing. And then there is the learning by repetition upon repetition upon repetition, until the act that is repeated has shaped one's subconscious and intuitive mind, like a hollow worn into a stone by a single repeated drop, a gem polished to dazzling perfection or an iron blade sharpened patiently against a whetstone. We learn language in this latter way, and manners and humor and pretty much everything that makes us human.

Above we mentioned the verb שנן (shanan), to repeat. That verb is identical to the verb שנן (shanan), to sharpen. From this latter verb comes the noun שן (shen), meaning tooth. And this helps to explain the many food laws in the Bible, whose meaning are primarily spiritual and speak of the learning process (like everything else in the Bible; see our article on Adam). And it also implies that the horn, which is designed as an impulse weapon and deployed in short "debates", is primarily associated with rational knowledge. This in contrast to the tusk, which is a tooth, which is part of an apparatus that is designed for repeated chewing. And this is not only so in Hebrew. In our article on the verb διδασκω (didasko), meaning to learn, we discuss how the ancient Proto-Indo-European root "dens-" (to learn/teach) closely relates to the root "dent-", meaning tooth (hence our word dentist).

In Greek, the rational mind is called the λογος (logos), which must be born but also die within the greater arena of the subconscious mind. This greater, more primitive but also more advanced foundation of the mind is called the νους (nous). This νους (nous) is trained by repetition (and meditation). As we explain in more detail in our article on this noun νους (nous), it is not clear where this noun comes from, but an excellent candidate is the PIE root "nas-", from which comes our English word "nose".

All this implies that the elephant, with its massive tusks and enormous nose (and ears), was a walking embodiment of the νους (nous), not able to speak but perhaps able to view beyond the edge of reason into the wordless world beyond. In De Sollertia Animalium (i.e. "On the Intelligence of Animals", written probably in the 70s AD), Plutarch speaks of an elephant who by dividing its fodder into two piles, "told" its owner of the dishonesty of its keeper as "nearly verbally" as it could (Plut Soll.968d). An even loftier assessment of the elephant comes from Plutarch's contemporary, Pliny the Elder, who asserted: "The elephant is the largest of them all, and in intelligence approaches the nearest to man. It understands the language of its country, it obeys commands, and it remembers all the duties which it has been taught. It is sensible alike of the pleasures of love and glory, and, to a degree that is rare among men even, possesses notions of honesty, prudence, and equity; it has a religious respect also for the stars, and a veneration for the sun and the moon (NH.VIII.1)."

In the classics, elephants were reported to βρυχαομαι (bruchaomai), roar, which is a verb that relates to βρυχω (brucho), to loudly gnash or grind (with one's teeth). This typical roaring sound that that elephants produce was described as στρηνης (strenes), hard or harsh, which was also commonly ascribed to the sound of the σαλπιγξ (salpigx), trumpet. Elephants were noted for their φιλοστοργια (philostorgia), or tender expressions of love and affection (Romans 12:10). But during rutting season, they were known to get εμμαντης (emmantes), enraged, from μαινομαι (mainomai), to rage like a maniac. When forced to fight for sport in Roman arenas, however, elephants simply refused and turned to their spectators with such human-like wailing and gestures that the audience left for home upset (Pliny, NH VIII.7.20; Seneca BV 18; Cassius Dio 39.38).

In our article on the name Job we explain how the Book of Job is designed as a fable, in which very early man (Job) has a conversation with the three great animal minds: Zophar the Naamathite embodies the bird, Bildad the Shuhite represents the herd animal, which are those animals that commonly have horns, Eliphaz the Temanite represents the elephant and satan embodies every predatory carnivore: all feliforma (lions, tigers; see our article on Tigris) and caniforma (bears, dogs; see our article on κυων, kuon, dog) and creatures like the snake (δρακων, drakon) and the fly (זבב, zebub). And no, it does not matter that these creatures are not biologically related; what matters is that they are mentally related. All these predators look out for number one (themselves) and will kill for that. Job, the very primitive man, and his much "younger" friend Elihu, son of Barachel, both represent versions of humanity. Humans are part of the greater family of flat-footers (rabbits, mice, beavers, apes) who live in houses (hence humanity's temples and apartments). For how the flat-footers broke away from the toe-walkers (which includes all horned herd-animals and also all feliform and caniform predators), see our articles on Jacob and Esau. In evolutionary terms, the common ancestor of flat-footers and toe-walkers broke away from the ancestor of all elephants, which would correspond to Jacob and Esau's uncle Ishmael.

For some more Greek verbs that may have something to do with our root אלף ('elep), see our articles on αλειφω (aleipho), to pour (which ties into the rain and flood aspect we discuss above), and λεπω (lepo), to peel (and see our article on βασκαινω, baskoino, to bewitch, for the significance of that). The not dissimilar verb ελπιζω (elpizo) means to hope.

Our noun ελεφας (elephas), elephant or ivory, does not occur independently in the New Testament but from it comes: