Parshat Vayishlach 5766

Tell me, do you know your Hebrew name?

The book of Proverbs teaches us that, ‘A good name is more precious than silver and gold (22:1).’ More than just a person’s reputation, this verse has something to teach us about our most precious legacy – our Hebrew name. Jewish identity begins when we know who we are and what our name is.

I’m always surprised at how often our families don’t know our name. If I had a dollar for every time someone called the synagogue and asked, “Rabbi, can you tell me the Hebrew equivalent for ‘Seymour’ or ‘Kathleen,’ or some other English name,” I’d be a rich man. Sadly many of us leave this world without ever passing on the legacy of our Hebrew name to others. When it’s too late, at a funeral service, or when its time to order a grave stone, or when a family wishes to name a new born child after a loved one, too often they discover that they have no idea what the person’s Hebrew name was.

Then again, I am not completely surprised. In fact, I was seven or eight before I learned my own Hebrew name. One day I went with my father to see a business client. The man, pleased to meet a cute little Jewish boy turned to me and said, “Young man - if you can tell me your Hebrew name, I’ll give you this bottle of coke.” Much to this man’s disappointment and my father’s, I had no idea. It was Moshe. My father looked at me in disbelief – how could I not know my own name. Only no one had ever told me that I was named after my paternal grandfather, Morris or Moshe. I don’t remember whether or not the man gave me a bottle of coke that day, but the next week our family joined a synagogue and I was enrolled in Hebrew School.

But I still didn’t know my whole Hebrew name. I went through years of Hebrew school, Bar Mitzvah training, Camp Ramah and nine years at the Seminary before I discovered who I really was. I was already ordained and well into my twenties before I was told that I had also have second name in Hebrew! Shortly after Danny was born, my mother came to visit us. As we sat at the dinner table one Friday night, I asked her, “Mom, my English name is Mark Bruce. I always wondered why you never gave me a second name in Hebrew.” “What are you talking about,” she said, “Of course you have a second name in Hebrew! It’s Binyamin, after your fathers’ brother, Ben.” No one ever bothered to tell me.

So here I stand: Moshe Binyamin ben Gedaliah V’Esther. I finally know my Hebrew name! Only our Ketubah, our marriage contract, and my papers of ordination only say “Moshe,” – no ‘Binyamin.’ This is a constant of aggravation and a reminder of just how easy it is to loose something as basic as one’s Hebrew name.

In our Torah portion this Shabbat, names play an important role. Jacob, facing a fearful encounter with his estranged brother, wrestles with an angel and is awarded a new name. Jacob, meaning heel, or, deceiver, becomes Yisrael, ‘the one who struggles with beings divine and human and prevails.’ This is, of course, more than just a simple change of names. It is a change of personality. In fact, Jacob never really gives up his old name completely. But the addition of this new name is a symbol of Jacob’s personal transformation, With the name Yisrael, he becomes a new person. When the angel asks Jacob, “What is your name” and he says, “Jacob,” our forefather does what he was unable to do in the presence of his father years before: he acknowledges his real name. Only now can he become a new person and the father of a nation. We are, after all, the children of Israel, not the children of Jacob. With this new name Jacob becomes a new person with a new destiny.

Throughout our history, names have played an important role in Jewish life. They appear on Jewish documents and are used when we are called to the Torah. Throughout the Bible a change of names always marks a new chapter in a person’s life. Avram becomes Abraham, Sarai becomes Sara, and Hoshea becomes Joshua. In each case the addition of a letter – a hay or a yud -- represents the presence of God in the person’s life as they take on the mantle of leadership.

To this day we have a custom of giving a person who is gravely ill a new name such as Chaya or Chayim. We hope that by doing so we will also give the person a new bill on life. They are now someone new – the angel of death can no longer touch them because who they were, is not who they have become. Names are a source of power. It was believed that to know someone’s name was to have a certain amount of power over them.

That is why we don’t pronounce or even know the name of God. The four letter name of God which appears in the Bible, Yud Hay Vav Hay, is never pronounced the way it is written. Instead we say Adonai which literally means ‘my master’ or ‘my lord.’ Since we cannot know God completely we also cannot know his true name. The absence of God’s name is a sign of God’s mystery.

So names, I would suggest are a doorway into the human soul and psyche. We owe it to ourselves to explore our names. They can reveal at least three different connections about who we are.

First most Hebrew names have a meaning of their own. David means beloved. Yocheved means one who honors God. Tsvi is a deer. Chaim means life. Hebrew names have an intrinsic meaning of their own. I suspect that originally they were used because their meaning said something about the reality of the person life and birth, much as native Americans choose names for people based on their personalities.

Second, many names are connected to our history, both biblical and beyond. Do we know who our Biblical or post biblical namesakes are? What do we know about King David, or the prophet Jeremiah, or Rabbi Akiva? Our names are a portal into our history that we ought to explore.

And finally, names are part of our family legacy. I suspect that many children don’t know who they are named after or why we chose to name them after a parent, aunt or uncle. My son Mordechai was named after a first cousin of Marilyn who was tragically killed in a car accident while serving a medical student in a community in Quebec. Naomi is named after Marilyn’s great Aunt Min and my mother, whose Sephardic heritage is to name after a living grandparent. Of course, my mother wasn’t very happy that we only chose Esther as a second name for Naomi Esther – that was a compromise with Marilyn’s Ashkenazic roots. But that’s a long story I’ll save for another time. Names, in any case, give us deep family roots. They create role models who we can emulate.

William Shakespeare wrote, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet." That’s just not true for us as Jew. Names are more then verbal designations for who we are. They are a challenge, a legacy, and a portal into the human soul.

We ought to spend some time rediscovering our Hebrew names. The first lesson for every Bar or Bat Mitzvah ought to be to tell our children who they’re named after if they don’t know already. The names we chose for our children are an expression of our expectations. And we ought to let them know we do have great expectations for who they become – expectations that are not related to career, education, wealth or fame. We want them to have “a good name” – to become a mensch - and to carry on the legacy we have given them and to add something new to the associations that go along with that name. We want people to smile when they hear their names.

Finally we ought to write down our names so that it is accessible to the other members of our family. Maybe we should carry a Hebrew name ID card in our wallets. In some families names are written in the back cover of a Bible or a prayer book. Our memories are sometimes faulty. We need to make sure that future generations can carry on the legacy of our names.

And finally we ought to learn how to write our names in Hebrew. What would we think of someone who couldn’t sign their signature to a bank document or a letter? I believe everyone ought to know how to write their name out in Hebrew. Of course, that means learning some basic Hebrew in the first place!

I am so glad I finally know my Hebrew name. It certainly took me long enough to learn it. When my children were born I made it easier for them. I only gave them Hebrew names so that they would always know who they are!! Granted Mordechai is a little difficult for some people to pronounce but the important thing is my children know who they are.

According to the sages the children of Israel were worthy of being redeemed from Egypt for three reasons. First, they continued to practice circumcision; second, they did not give up their own language; and third they were redeemed because they did not change their unique names. Apparently these acts were the first line in maintaining a Jewish identity.

A name, then, is the beginning of our unique heritage.

When we know our Hebrew name we can discover who we are.

May our name be a good one that we can pass on for generations to come!

Shabbat Shalom