Names That Contextualize and Define

Rabbi Noah Marks

Shabbat Sh’mot, Friday, January 16, 2009

In the cover of my Bar Mitzvah siddur, my parents inscribed a quote that comes from a Midrashic text, Kohellet Rabba, which reads:

A person has three names:
one that he is called by his father and mother;
one that people know him by,
and one that he acquires for himself.

The meaning of this quote has become clearer to me after studying this week’s Parasha, Sh’mot, which means names of. It offers illuminating examples for each of the three names we receive: how Moshe is named, the name God wants to be known by, and the name Joseph made for himself in Egypt.

Your first name is the one you are given by your parents. At the beginning of this Parasha, baby Moshe is born and named. In fact, our tradition teaches us that he was named twice. After his biological birth, his parents see “ki tov hu,” that he is “good.” No other personal qualities of Moshe are mentioned, and there is no textual name given to him by his biological parents. Nevertheless, the Midrash teaches us that Moshe did have a Hebrew name and it was Tobiah, the good one, after this characteristic.

His second name comes directly from the text, when Pharaoh’s daughter rescues him from the Nile. She, being fluent in Hebrew and competent with verb conjugations names him Moshe, which she defines as “brought out of.” This is the traditionally accepted reason for his name. However, there are three reasons to suspect this etymology. Firstly, this word root is not used anywhere else in the Torah, implying that a root was made from his name rather than the other way around. Secondly, the grammar doesn’t work—the form moshe is active, meaning “he draws out,” instead of the passive definition that Pharaoh’s daughter gives. Thirdly, Egyptologists have found that –mose was a common Egyptian suffix that means “son of,” much like “ben” is commonly found in Hebrew names. All in all, the evidence shows that Moshe is most likely a piece of a transliterated Egyptian name, the rest of which was lost by editors who didn’t know Egyptian anyway.

Many of you may be wondering what these two names of Moshe teach us about names given to us by our parents. When they name us, their choice reflects our heritage and their hopes for us. Moshe lived in two civilizations, Israelite and Egyptian, and his two names reflect that reality. The first name, Tobiah, expresses his parents’ hope that Moshe will fulfill a destiny that is parallel to the creation of the world in Genesis—as the world was created and was good, so can Moshe, also being “good,” create a nation from an enslaved people. The second transliterated name reflects Moshe’s the formative impact of his adoptive parent, along with the fact that he lived as Egyptian royalty, was never enslaved, and yet is the one G-d chose to lead us out of Egypt. By referring to him as Moshe throughout the Bible, our tradition preserves the Egyptian part of Moshe’s heritage while at the same time creating grammar that foreshadows Moshe’s destiny “bringing out” the Israelites from bondage into freedom. Like Moshe, when our parents name us, our given name ties us to our heritage and their hopes for our destiny.

The second name that you have, according to Kohellet Rabbah, is the name by which others know you. This name is relational; it is given to us by those we interact with. In the middle of the Parasha, God tells Moshe that God should be called “I will be as I will be” by the Israelites. Rashi expands this into “I will be with you in this suffering as I will be with you in future suffering.” Even with Rashi’s clarification, the name is still very vague. Maimonides teaches us that when we name something, we define it, and by extension, define what it isn’t. Therefore, within this name that we are to call God must be the essence of each of our relationships with God.

So, in the context of this Parasha, what does it mean to an enslaved Israelite for God to be with them? It describes a relationship where God protects them, supports them in their bondage, and leads them to freedom. The specifics are missing, reserving to God the right to take on whatever role is needed. Additionally, because this name reflects infinite power, when each individual Israelite hears it, they will interpret it differently relative to their specific personal circumstances. Through this name, the relationship between us and God is defined to be limitless and personal. Therefore, the specifics of the name each person calls God will vary by person.

In our own lives, this also holds true—we, through the fact that we perform different roles for different people we know, are called different things by them. To some, we are mommy and daddy. To others, we are children. Each relationship we have has a unique name that defines it.

Two details found in the text further refine this name by making it variable and infinite. We learn that it is variable by the fact that the name God wants to be called is new—it is a shift from “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob” and it reflects a new relationship between the Israelites and God. Over 400 years pass between the end of Genesis and this Parasha, meaning that all the Israelites have known is enslavement and the Patriarchs have receded from personal memory into historical memory. As God’s name can evolve relative to the circumstances, so too does the name we are called vary through time as our roles in society change.

The infinite nature of this name comes from the fact that God commands Moshe to remember this new name “le’olam,” forever. However, Rashi notes that in this word, the vav is missing. He suggests an alternative reading of “le’alem,” to conceal. Concealing the fact that each person names their relationship to God individually also hides the extent of the different roles God plays in the world. From this we learn that, like God, the extent of the support we provide for others is concealed, perhaps unknowable—who among us can name everyone they have impacted with their actions?

As I stand up here, I think about how much all the teachers and Rabbis I have learned from have changed my life. Even the members of my synagogue that I grew up seeing every Friday night and never met still impacted my life by creating the Kavanah I was immersed in each week. Every day, you or I impact lives of strangers by just smiling at others as we go about our day.

Like God, the names we receive from others are each individually tailored to the nature of our relationship with them and, through time, reflect the different roles we hold. Further, the aggregate impact we have on others everyone else is unknowable.

Your third and final name is the one that you acquire for yourself through your actions. This name is entirely personally determined, whereas the previous two are determined by others. In Genesis, through his divinely-inspired dream interpretation as well as his administrative prowess, Joseph acquires a favor in the eyes of the Egyptian Pharaoh.

However, at the beginning of this Parasha, we learn that a new king has arisen over Egypt and he “lo yadah”—did not know— Joseph. In English, the word “to know” is associated with all types of knowledge, from the mundane (where you put your keys) to the deeply personal, so this verse in translation may not strike anyone as profound. However, Hebrew uses different verbs to distinguish the different types of knowledge one can have, and the root of yadah is used to describe deeply personal knowledge, including the knowledge between husband and wife. Therefore, when it says that the new Pharaoh “lo yadah” Joseph, it could be that the new Pharaoh lacks simple memory of a name Joseph, but it more likely means that he had forgotten the deep personal meaning of name Joseph that came as a result of Joseph’s service to Egypt. From this association between “yadah” and Joseph we learn that the name one makes for themselves reflects on their deeds in a deeply personal way.

In children’s stories of the Exodus, the size of the Israelites is usually cited as the source of Pharaoh’s anger. However, this verse, saying that the new Pharaoh did not “yadah” Joseph, precedes the verse that gives population as the source of the Pharaoh’s hatred. Therefore, the relationship between the two is most likely causative—only once the memory of friendly relationship between Egypt and the Israelites recedes does Pharaoh begin to fear the Israelites. This teaches us that the aspect of one’s name that is based on one’s deeds forms the foundation of relationships and that relationships prevent bigotry and racism.

The idea that names in the bible reflect something fundamental about how people choose to behave is not unique to this Parasha. However, within this Parasha, it is demonstrated twice, first with Joseph and then when we encounter Shifrah and Puah, the midwives who, in the first recorded civil disobedience in history, subvert Pharaoh’s genocidal decrees because they “feared” God. Their names connect directly with their ethical actions: Shifrah means to improve and to be beautiful and Puah comes from a root that means to sooth. Their actions fit their names; they brought beauty into the world, soothing and improving the lives of the enslaved Israelites.

As we live and impact our world, the name we give ourselves through our actions merit memory and become blessings by building deeply personal relationships between us.

Before I conclude, I would like to share one more story. During a particularly silly moment of adolescent angst, I thought about my own name. It seemed old, stale, and most of all, confining. So I found an old baby naming book on the shelf and started to consider alternatives. As I flipped through the pages, scanning the names, I couldn’t find a single name that seemed to fit me better than Noah.

With that realization, along with my studies in Parasha Sh’mot, I more completely understand the quote my parents chose to inscribe in my siddur. It means that our names, even though they are grammatically proper nouns, they function as adjectives. Their meaning is drawn from three sources: our parents’ vision for us, the way we interact with others, and the extent we were the change we wish to see in the world.

Shabbat Shalom.