Sanctifying the Name

“Send agents to scout the land of Canaan, which I am giving to the Israelite people; send one participant from each of their ancestral tribes, each one a chieftain among them.” So Moses, by the Lord’s command, sent them out from the wilderness of Paran, all of them being men of consequence, leaders of the Israelites. And these were their names (v’eleh shmotam): From the tribe of Reuben, Shammua son of Zaccur. (Numbers 13:1-4)

Those were the names (eleh shmot) of the participants whom Moses sent to scout the land; but Moses changed the name of Hosea son of Nun to Joshua.

These are the sons of Ishmael (v’eleh shmotam) and these are their names by their villages and by their encampments: twelve chieftains of as many tribes. (Genesis 25:16)

These are the names (v’eleh shmot) of the clans of Esau, each with its families and locality, name by name: the clans Timna, Alvah, Jetheth…(Genesis 36:40)

These are the names of the sons of Israel who came to Egypt with Jacob, each coming with his household: (Exodus 1:1)

Now Zelophehad son of Hepher son of Gilead son of Machir son of Manasseh had no sons, but only daughters. The names (v’eleh shmot) of his daughters were Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. (Joshua 17:3)

Names recur as a leitmotif throughout the Torah. The builders of the Tower of Babel are nameless but seek to make a name for themselves. Their story is bracketed within a litany of the descendants of Shem, whose name means “name.” In Exodus, known in Hebrew as Sh’mot, The Book of Names, we are introduced to an unnamed ruler who knows not Joseph, instead treating the Israelites as a nameless horde. The heroic midwives, Shifra and Pua, are singled out by name in a story in which names are otherwise missing. They violate Egyptian law to save lives and to save names.

The Torah gives us the names of the children of Ishmael and Esau—why? One reason is simply genealogical and etiological duty. It is important to chronicle how families and clans develop and to understand how their backstory informs the lay of the land. Another reason is moral. We must remember the names not just of our own, but of the broader human family. Esau’s line and Ishmael’s line are are also full of biodiversity which we should celebrate. The fruitfulness of Esau’s and Ishmael’s lines both fill out God’s promise to Abraham that all the nations of the earth shall be blessed through him.

Another reason for making the names explicit is to emphasize that “There but for the grace go we.” We could have been born to a different tribe and would have ended up differently. Every time we see a list of names we see a fork in the road. To understand oneself as a child of Jacob means understanding oneself as not the child of Esau or Ishmael. In Heideggerian parlance, names are reminders of one’s thrownness, one’s heritage and ancestry. Those who want pure universalism must begin by voiding the name. Likewise, the greatest revolt against God is called a “desecration of God’s name” (chillul Hashem).

In this week’s parasha, Shelach, we read the list of the names of those who spied out the land, but who, as a result of their bad report, were barred from entering it. The list of names sets up a parallel to the list of names that begins Exodus, as though the error of the spies were a kind of reversion to Egyptian bondage. But the list of names also reminds us that the error of spies is another fork in the story, separating those who will make it from those who don’t, and defining all of us as a result. Whereas the names of Ishmael and Esau serve to show us who we are not, the names of the Israelite chieftains serve to show us who we are. We are the children of those who failed to get it right the first time. We are the ones who are given a second chance.

In biological family trees, reproduction is irreversible. A child of Jacob cannot magically become a child of Esau. But in the story of the spies, we inherit the errors of previous generations without being fated by them. The sin of the spies should have disqualified the Israelites as a whole from entering the land, but it doesn’t. Instead, we all become the spiritual children of Caleb and Joshua, even as we remain the biological descendants of the 10 other chieftains. In the story of the spies we have a shift from biological determinism—you are your yichus (lineage)—to cultural appropriation (in the good sense). It is possible to pick good teachers and role models and become worthy of the promised land, rather than remain stuck with the moral debt of one’s clan. Caleb and Joshua are our teachers. Joshua, in particular, is singled out as someone who received a name change.

Joshua’s contrarian resolve against groupthink correlates to his name change. Like Abraham and Jacob, his name bespeaks transformation. Like Shifra and Pua, his name suggests a saving power in a world that sees only giants and grasshoppers.