(כג) וַיָּ֣קׇם ׀ בַּלַּ֣יְלָה ה֗וּא וַיִּקַּ֞ח אֶת־שְׁתֵּ֤י נָשָׁיו֙ וְאֶת־שְׁתֵּ֣י שִׁפְחֹתָ֔יו וְאֶת־אַחַ֥ד עָשָׂ֖ר יְלָדָ֑יו וַֽיַּעֲבֹ֔ר אֵ֖ת מַעֲבַ֥ר יַבֹּֽק׃ (כד) וַיִּ֨קָּחֵ֔ם וַיַּֽעֲבִרֵ֖ם אֶת־הַנָּ֑חַל וַֽיַּעֲבֵ֖ר אֶת־אֲשֶׁר־לֽוֹ׃ (כה) וַיִּוָּתֵ֥ר יַעֲקֹ֖ב לְבַדּ֑וֹ וַיֵּאָבֵ֥ק אִישׁ֙ עִמּ֔וֹ עַ֖ד עֲל֥וֹת הַשָּֽׁחַר׃ (כו) וַיַּ֗רְא כִּ֣י לֹ֤א יָכֹל֙ ל֔וֹ וַיִּגַּ֖ע בְּכַף־יְרֵכ֑וֹ וַתֵּ֙קַע֙ כַּף־יֶ֣רֶךְ יַעֲקֹ֔ב בְּהֵאָֽבְק֖וֹ עִמּֽוֹ׃ (כז) וַיֹּ֣אמֶר שַׁלְּחֵ֔נִי כִּ֥י עָלָ֖ה הַשָּׁ֑חַר וַיֹּ֙אמֶר֙ לֹ֣א אֲשַֽׁלֵּחֲךָ֔ כִּ֖י אִם־בֵּרַכְתָּֽנִי׃ (כח) וַיֹּ֥אמֶר אֵלָ֖יו מַה־שְּׁמֶ֑ךָ וַיֹּ֖אמֶר יַעֲקֹֽב׃ (כט) וַיֹּ֗אמֶר לֹ֤א יַעֲקֹב֙ יֵאָמֵ֥ר עוֹד֙ שִׁמְךָ֔ כִּ֖י אִם־יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל כִּֽי־שָׂרִ֧יתָ עִם־אֱלֹהִ֛ים וְעִם־אֲנָשִׁ֖ים וַתּוּכָֽל׃ (ל) וַיִּשְׁאַ֣ל יַעֲקֹ֗ב וַיֹּ֙אמֶר֙ הַגִּֽידָה־נָּ֣א שְׁמֶ֔ךָ וַיֹּ֕אמֶר לָ֥מָּה זֶּ֖ה תִּשְׁאַ֣ל לִשְׁמִ֑י וַיְבָ֥רֶךְ אֹת֖וֹ שָֽׁם׃ (לא) וַיִּקְרָ֧א יַעֲקֹ֛ב שֵׁ֥ם הַמָּק֖וֹם פְּנִיאֵ֑ל כִּֽי־רָאִ֤יתִי אֱלֹהִים֙ פָּנִ֣ים אֶל־פָּנִ֔ים וַתִּנָּצֵ֖ל נַפְשִֽׁי׃ (לב) וַיִּֽזְרַֽח־ל֣וֹ הַשֶּׁ֔מֶשׁ כַּאֲשֶׁ֥ר עָבַ֖ר אֶת־פְּנוּאֵ֑ל וְה֥וּא צֹלֵ֖עַ עַל־יְרֵכֽוֹ׃ (לג) עַל־כֵּ֡ן לֹֽא־יֹאכְל֨וּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֜ל אֶת־גִּ֣יד הַנָּשֶׁ֗ה אֲשֶׁר֙ עַל־כַּ֣ף הַיָּרֵ֔ךְ עַ֖ד הַיּ֣וֹם הַזֶּ֑ה כִּ֤י נָגַע֙ בְּכַף־יֶ֣רֶךְ יַעֲקֹ֔ב בְּגִ֖יד הַנָּשֶֽׁה׃
(23) That same night he arose, and taking his two wives, his two maidservants, and his eleven children, he crossed the ford of the Jabbok. (24) After taking them across the stream, he sent across all his possessions. (25) Jacob was left alone. And a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn. (26) When he saw that he had not prevailed against him, he wrenched Jacob’s hip at its socket, so that the socket of his hip was strained as he wrestled with him. (27) Then he said, “Let me go, for dawn is breaking.” But he answered, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” (28) Said the other, “What is your name?” He replied, “Jacob.” (29) Said he, “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human,-d and have prevailed.” (30) Jacob asked, “Pray tell me your name.” But he said, “You must not ask my name!” And he took leave of him there. (31) So Jacob named the place Peniel, meaning, “I have seen a divine being face to face, yet my life has been preserved.” (32) The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping on his hip. (33) That is why the children of Israel to this day do not eat the thigh muscle that is on the socket of the hip, since Jacob’s hip socket was wrenched at the thigh muscle.
Names were regarded not only as labels but also as symbols, magical keys, as it were, to the nature and essence of the given being or thing.
(Ephraim A. Speiser, Genesis: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, Anchor Bible, volume 1, 1964)
(Ephraim A. Speiser, Genesis: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, Anchor Bible, volume 1, 1964)
“What is man, that Thou art mindful of him?” (Psalms8:5) God answered them, “The man whom I desire to create will possess wisdom that shall exceed yours [the heavenly hosts.]” What did God do then? Assembling all the cattle, beasts, and fowl, God made them pass before them [the heavenly hosts] and asked them, “What are the names of these?” They did not know.
When, however, God created man and, making them pass before him, asked him what the names of these were, he replied, “This should fittingly be called an ox; that, a lion; that, a horse; that, an ass; that, a camel; and that an eagle,” as may be inferred from the text, “And the man gave names to all the cattle.” Then God asked him, “And you, what shall be your name?” He answered, “Adam.” God persisted,” Why?” And he explained, “Because I have been created from the ground.”
The Holy One, blessed be God, asked him, “And I, what is My name?” Adam replied, “Adonai.” “Why?” “Because you are master over all created beings.” Hence it is written, “I am Adonai, that is My name.” (Isaiah 47:8) It means, “That is the name by which Adam called Me; it is the name that I have accepted for Myself; and it is the name on which I have agreed with My creatures.” (Numbers Rabbah 19:3)
When, however, God created man and, making them pass before him, asked him what the names of these were, he replied, “This should fittingly be called an ox; that, a lion; that, a horse; that, an ass; that, a camel; and that an eagle,” as may be inferred from the text, “And the man gave names to all the cattle.” Then God asked him, “And you, what shall be your name?” He answered, “Adam.” God persisted,” Why?” And he explained, “Because I have been created from the ground.”
The Holy One, blessed be God, asked him, “And I, what is My name?” Adam replied, “Adonai.” “Why?” “Because you are master over all created beings.” Hence it is written, “I am Adonai, that is My name.” (Isaiah 47:8) It means, “That is the name by which Adam called Me; it is the name that I have accepted for Myself; and it is the name on which I have agreed with My creatures.” (Numbers Rabbah 19:3)
In life, you discover that people are called by three names: One is the name the person is called by his father and mother; one is the name people call him; and one is the name he acquires for himself. The best one is the one he acquires for himself.
(Tanchuma, Vayak’heil 1)
(Tanchuma, Vayak’heil 1)
Each of us has a name given by God and given by our parents.
Each of us has a name given by our stature and our smile and given by what we wear.
Each of us has a name given by the mountains and given by our walls.
Each of us has a name given by the stars and given by our neighbors.
Each of us has a name given by our sins and given by our longing.
Each of us has a name given by our enemies and given by our love.
Each of us has a name given by our celebrations and given by our work.
Each of us has a name given by the seasons and given by our blindness.
Each of us has a name given by the sea and given by our death.
(Zelda, “Each Man Has a Name,” as adapted by Marcia Falk in The Book of Blessings, New York: Harper Collins, 1996, p. 106ff.)
Each of us has a name given by our stature and our smile and given by what we wear.
Each of us has a name given by the mountains and given by our walls.
Each of us has a name given by the stars and given by our neighbors.
Each of us has a name given by our sins and given by our longing.
Each of us has a name given by our enemies and given by our love.
Each of us has a name given by our celebrations and given by our work.
Each of us has a name given by the seasons and given by our blindness.
Each of us has a name given by the sea and given by our death.
(Zelda, “Each Man Has a Name,” as adapted by Marcia Falk in The Book of Blessings, New York: Harper Collins, 1996, p. 106ff.)
Our names are our essence. They are meant to describe what we truly are. If there were no names, what could one person call another? “Hey you: tall guy, smart guy, guy with red hair…” We would have no connection to anyone’s true essence. There could be no real relationship.
Why is it that turning people into numbers is such a terrible thought to us? Because removing the name undermines the true nature of humans! Using numbers to tell the difference between one person and another means that I do not care at all about the people I am counting. I just need a way of telling them apart, like apples in a barrel!
That is the destruction of individuality, the destruction of personal meaning, and the destruction of relationship. It is relating to human beings only in terms of functionality, in terms of their usefulness to me, and not at all in terms of who they are, of caring, of relationship.
If the removal of names can lead to the destruction of a people, then the appropriate use of names can bring redemption. God’s desire to liberate the slaves is aroused, in part, by the names with which Sh’mot opens. By keeping their Hebrew names during the period of enslavement, the Israelites prevented total assimilation into Egyptian culture. God teaches Moses various Divine names and their meanings to prepare him for his role as liberator.
Humans are brought into the world to give things their essence, their meaning, and their place in the world. When we do this, we truly fulfill our Divine purpose. When we do not, we risk destroying God’s world. We must constantly be asking ourselves about our relationships. Are they relationships of love and caring, or are they self-serving and exploitative?
How do I relate to those different than me? How do I relate to the world beyond my immediate surroundings, for example, to the rainforests? To the cows at the factory dairy farm whose milk I drink every morning? To the chickens at the industrial poultry shed near my house? When I buy brand new sneakers, do I consider who made them? How was that individual human being treated while he or she made my shoes?
If we deny the names–the unique identity–of other people, of the creatures and plants and places of the earth, we risk becoming like Pharaoh and all the other despots of the world. Threatened by the complexity and variety of the world, they chose to see others as nameless resources, as nothing more than a means towards their own personal goals. Such a path, while often seeming to increase comfort and efficiency in the present, ultimately leads to slavery and oblivion.
Provided by Canfei Nesharim, providing Torah wisdom about the importance of protecting our environment.
Why is it that turning people into numbers is such a terrible thought to us? Because removing the name undermines the true nature of humans! Using numbers to tell the difference between one person and another means that I do not care at all about the people I am counting. I just need a way of telling them apart, like apples in a barrel!
That is the destruction of individuality, the destruction of personal meaning, and the destruction of relationship. It is relating to human beings only in terms of functionality, in terms of their usefulness to me, and not at all in terms of who they are, of caring, of relationship.
If the removal of names can lead to the destruction of a people, then the appropriate use of names can bring redemption. God’s desire to liberate the slaves is aroused, in part, by the names with which Sh’mot opens. By keeping their Hebrew names during the period of enslavement, the Israelites prevented total assimilation into Egyptian culture. God teaches Moses various Divine names and their meanings to prepare him for his role as liberator.
Humans are brought into the world to give things their essence, their meaning, and their place in the world. When we do this, we truly fulfill our Divine purpose. When we do not, we risk destroying God’s world. We must constantly be asking ourselves about our relationships. Are they relationships of love and caring, or are they self-serving and exploitative?
How do I relate to those different than me? How do I relate to the world beyond my immediate surroundings, for example, to the rainforests? To the cows at the factory dairy farm whose milk I drink every morning? To the chickens at the industrial poultry shed near my house? When I buy brand new sneakers, do I consider who made them? How was that individual human being treated while he or she made my shoes?
If we deny the names–the unique identity–of other people, of the creatures and plants and places of the earth, we risk becoming like Pharaoh and all the other despots of the world. Threatened by the complexity and variety of the world, they chose to see others as nameless resources, as nothing more than a means towards their own personal goals. Such a path, while often seeming to increase comfort and efficiency in the present, ultimately leads to slavery and oblivion.
Provided by Canfei Nesharim, providing Torah wisdom about the importance of protecting our environment.
Jewish Naming Traditions
You might have heard that Jews do not name their babies for living people. While this is true in most communities of Ashkenazic Jews (Jews of Central and Eastern European origin), the opposite is the case among Sephardic Jews (Jews of Iberian or Middle-Eastern origin), who often choose to name children after living relatives.
In fact, many Sephardic grandparents look forward to being honored with grandchildren who bear their own names while they are still alive to see it.
Among both Sephardic and Ashkenazic Jews, there is a custom to name a child after someone, usually a family member, who has died. The usual explanation for this practice is that the parents hope that in receiving the name of an admired family member, the child will emulate in life the virtues of the deceased namesake. To a certain extent, too, it is believed that the soul of the loved one lives on in the child who now bears his name. Indeed, learning about the people for whom they are named is an excellent way for children to identify with the history of their own Jewish families and, by extension, with the history of the whole Jewish people.
You might have heard that Jews do not name their babies for living people. While this is true in most communities of Ashkenazic Jews (Jews of Central and Eastern European origin), the opposite is the case among Sephardic Jews (Jews of Iberian or Middle-Eastern origin), who often choose to name children after living relatives.
In fact, many Sephardic grandparents look forward to being honored with grandchildren who bear their own names while they are still alive to see it.
Among both Sephardic and Ashkenazic Jews, there is a custom to name a child after someone, usually a family member, who has died. The usual explanation for this practice is that the parents hope that in receiving the name of an admired family member, the child will emulate in life the virtues of the deceased namesake. To a certain extent, too, it is believed that the soul of the loved one lives on in the child who now bears his name. Indeed, learning about the people for whom they are named is an excellent way for children to identify with the history of their own Jewish families and, by extension, with the history of the whole Jewish people.