VaEra
Shemot 6:2-9:35
What's in A Name?
Julia Andelman, 5762
I would like to acknowledge my friend Elaine Robinson, in Jerusalem, whose ideas contributed to my thoughts for this devar Torah. Pirkei Avot 6:6, teaches that "One who says something in the name of the person who said it brings redemption to the world." I think this mishnah highlights the importance both of genuine intellectual curiosity and of humility. When we share ideas, the question of whether we came up with them ourselves is less important than the possibility of people learning from them when they are re-shared. While in the world of academia only an original thesis is publishable, in the world of personal growth and self-improvement any and all wisdom can and should be freely shared and humbly transmitted, giving credit where credit is due.
Parashat Va'Era opens as follows (Shemot 6:2-3):
| And Elohim spoke to Moshe and said to him, "I am Adonai; I appeared/was known to Avraham, Yitzhak, and Ya'akov as El Shaddai, but my name Adonai I did not make known to them." | וַיְדַבֵּר אֱלֹהִים אֶל מֹשֶׁה וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו אֲנִי יְהֹוָה: וָאֵרָא אֶל אַבְרָהָם אֶל יִצְחָק וְאֶל יַעֲקֹב בְּאֵל שַׁדָּי וּשְׁמִי יְהֹוָה לֹא נוֹדַעְתִּי לָהֶם: |
God goes on to describe how the covenant that was made with the patriarchs will be fulfilled, such that B'nei Yisrael will be freed from slavery in Egypt and brought to the Promised Land.
Both traditional and modern scholarship have extracted much meaning from the different names of God used in different Biblical contexts. The Documentary Hypothesis, which pioneered the school of Biblical criticism in the nineteenth century, theorized that there were four different ancient traditions that were melded together to create the literary work that we know as the Bible. Various methods were employed to separate these traditions from one another, including the idea that different traditions had tendencies to refer to God by different names. Two of the four traditions are thus dubbed Jehovistic ("J") and Elohistic ("E"), referring to the names Jehovah (an early mistaken pronunciation of the tetragrammaton-God's four-letter name) and Elohim.
Traditional commentators on the Bible have also devoted considerable focus to interpretations of the different names of God. A very brief summary of some of this interpretation yields the following: God's two great attributes of Din and Rahamim (judgment and mercy), which are forever struggling to remain in balance, are represented by the names Elohim and Adonai respectively. El Shaddai, used most prominently in Sefer Bereishit (although it also appears later in Tanakh in more poetic contexts), is associated with God's mastery over the natural world and consequent ability to perform miracles that transcend the laws of nature.
Even with the knowledge that different names of God can be understood as signifiers of different divine attributes or of different literary traditions, I still do not feel that the opening pesukim of Parshat Va'Era have been explained. Why does the narrative itself emphasize that the operative name of God has changed from the time of the patriarchs? I would like to dip into the commentaries from last week's parashah, Parashat Shemot, for some insight on this matter.
In Shemot 3:6, when Moshe stops to behold the burning bush and God speaks to him, God is introduced as follows: "וַיֹּאמֶר אָנֹכִי אֱלֹהֵי אָבִיךָ אֱלֹהֵי אַבְרָהָם אֱלֹהֵי יִצְחָק וֵאלֹהֵי יַעֲקֹב"-"I am the god of your ancestors, the god of Avraham, the god of Yitzhak, and the god of Ya'akov." After God instructs Moshe that he will be leading B'nei Yisrael out of slavery in Egypt, Moshe fittingly asks for a name by which he can identify God to B'nei Yisrael when they will undoubtedly challenge his words and ask to know who sent him (Shemot 3:13) - for, after all, "the god of your ancestors" might leave something to be desired. However, the Ramban considers Moshe's question to be out of place. For one thing, the Ramban points out, if a member of the Israelite community were already disinclined to believe in the validity of Moshe's words, how would a name change anything? Secondly, any name that would be recognizable to the Israelite community Moshe should already know! Instead the Ramban provides a much more subtle reading to Moshe's question: in asking God to be identified by a name, Moshe is really asking which of God's many attributes will be manifested in the exodus from Egypt; the name that God gives will thus indicate the specific nature of the exodus and of God's interactions with B'nei Yisrael and their adversaries.
While the name given in Parashat Shemot, "אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה" (3:14) is cryptic, the more definitive answer to Moshe's question is given in our parashah: God will be manifested in the form of Adonai, and this name will follow through to the giving of the Torah on Mount Sinai (recall the language of the first of the Ten Commandments, "...אָנֹכִי יְהֹוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ") and beyond. While the question of whether the attribute of mercy is really primary in the exodus story would yield an interesting discussion, I would like to focus instead on the larger point highlighted by the Ramban: that is, that names characterize and affect actions, and that different names are appropriate for different occasions. However we conceive of God or of the divine forces in the world, we will perceive, respond to, and rely on these forces differently at different moments in our lives. Perhaps this expansiveness is the real beauty and wonder of what we call God.
The Torah teaches that we are created "בְּצֶלֶם אֱלֹהִים"-"in the image of God" (Bereishit 1:27). Let us use this concept of elasticity and variation in the nature of God via God's different names to shed light on our own names as well. A midrash in Kohelet Rabbah (Parashah 7) discusses the phrase in Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) 7:1, "טוֹב שֵׁם מִשֶּׁמֶן טוֹב"-"a good name is better than fragrant oil". (Fragrant oil was a hot commodity in those days!) Digressing from the interpretation of this pasuk, the midrash teaches as follows:
| Every person is called by three names: one given by one's parents, one given by others, and one given in the book of the chronicles of one's creation. | שלשה שמות נקראו לאדם הזה: אחד שקראו לו אביו ואמו, ואחד שקראו לו אחרים, ואחד שקרוי לו בספר תולדות ברייתו. |
What is this name given in the "book of the chronicles of one's creation"? I interpret this as the name which indicates one's most essential spiritual identity. Other ways to think about this phrase might be the name that determines one's destiny, or the name by which a person is known to God. (I wonder if I am even aware of the name by which I am known in sefer toldot beriati...)
Think about the different names that you have. What do your parents and grandparents call you? Do they call you different names at different times, if they are being affectionate or angry, in public and in private? What are you called on the playing field by your friends? Does your sibling, boyfriend, or girlfriend have a special nickname for you? Do you have different names at camp and at school (like JAR and Lefty)? What name do you use when you have an aliyah? If you published a book what name would you want printed on the cover? What do you write when you sign a letter? What is the linguistic origin of your name? Why did your parents choose it for you? What name would you use if you were talking to yourself? Would you ever want to change your name and, if so, how would you choose your new name? Do you only ever go by one name?
While names are functional necessities, names are also significant in that they represent the richness of the diversity of the individual and the many nuanced ways in which we relate to our fellow human beings. As the issue of names comes up in other places in the Torah (think about all the name changes that take place in Sefer Bereishit), I urge you to reflect on the significance of what is going on beyond the technical level, and also to reflect on how you use names to present yourself - your goals, your self-image, your history, your personality, and the many other facets of your identity - to the world. While external trappings are in some ways superficial, noticing our reliance on them can compel us to think about our needs and motivations in different situations and about the complexity of our sense of self, and thus help us to be more reflective and self-aware human beings.