By Hazzan Sandler.
In Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Juliet uses the phrase to argue that Romeo’s last name, Montague, is an irrelevant label for him as an individual. She famously says, “That which we call a rose / By any other name would smell as sweet,” to make the point that the name itself has no intrinsic meaning compared to the actual quality of the thing it names. And in a way she’s right – a rose would be a rose even if I called it a chrysanthemum. But the Jewish tradition sees names as so much more.
In the Garden of Eden, Adam names all the animals. He attempts to understand their essence and name them accordingly, all while realizing that none of these creatures are a fitting mate for him. The commentators note that giving something a name is a way we exercise dominion or power of that which we are naming. And though names are powerful, they can be so much more.
Throughout the Tanakh, names give us insight about the characters. Esther comes from the Hebrew meaning hidden, as she hides her Jewish identity from the king. Abram means father of Aram, but his name is changed to Abraham, meaning the father of multitudes of nations, which indeed is true. The name Yehudah (Judah) means ‘thanks’ and a core aspect of being Jewish (Yehudim) is to be grateful to God for all the blessings in our lives.
In this week’s parasha Vayishlach, Jacob is alone, afraid of how his reunion with Esau will go after all that happened in their childhood. And in the night he gets into an altercation with an angel of God. The story goes:
“When [The Angel] saw that he had not prevailed against [Jacob], he wrenched Jacob’s hip at its socket, so that the socket of his hip was strained as he wrestled with him. Then [The Angel] said, ‘Let me go, for dawn is breaking.’ But [Jacob] answered, ‘I will not let you go, unless you bless me.’ Said the [Angel], ‘What is your name?’
He replied, ‘Jacob.’ The Angel said, ‘Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed.’ Jacob asked, ‘Pray tell me your name.’ But he said, ‘You must not ask my name!’ And he took leave of him there.”
From this we learn that names are also a kind of blessing. Indeed at baby naming ceremonies, we are reminded that our name is the first blessing we receive in life. Newborns are often named for loved ones who are no longer living with the hope that their best qualities will live on in the child as they grow. Throughout our lives we take on many names. Our given names express the hopes of our parents. Our surnames connect us to family. We might take on nicknames from friends or pet names from partners. There are titles we earn through training/degree programs – like Doctor, Professor, Rabbi or Hazzan. And there are titles we earn through our relationships like Mom, Dad, Bubbe, Grandpa, Sibling, Best Friend and so on.
In my own life, I was called Jacob throughout my childhood, Milk at Camp Ramah, Jake in college, and Hazzan Sandler (among other fun nicknames) here at Beth El. I often joke that I come from a long lineage of “Jacobs” with other names. What names do you have? Which did you earn? Which were given? And in a more idiomatic sense, what sort of name have you made for yourself? As it says in Kohelet 7:1, “Shem tov miShemen tov– A good name is better than good oil.” So what’s in a name? Perhaps more than just an assortment of sounds/letters that help someone get your attention in a crowd. Perhaps a name is a blessing. Perhaps your name helps to tell your story.