Names are important. Parents deliberate over names for their children, business owners agonise over how best to name their products, and when G-d created Adam on the 6th day of Creation, the first job He gave him was to name all the animals.
And yet, in this week’s parshah, Moses’ name isn’t mentioned. Our greatest prophet! A man who spoke to G-d face-to-face and flawlessly transmitted His Torah to us! And his name isn’t mentioned this week, not even once? Why?
Our Sages explain that it was in response to Moses’ plea to G-d, when the people sinned with the Golden Calf: “Forgive them or erase me from Your book.” Even though the people were ultimately forgiven, Moses’ request was fulfilled through the omission of his name in this parshah.
The Rebbe adds another layer to this striking omission. He says this teaches that a person’s name is not one’s essential identity; it is merely the means by which we can be identified to others. A name is a label, and it's a quick, useful way to identify someone or something in an external and non-essential way. But the essence of a person can’t be reduced to something as simple as a name.
My name is Karen. I always thought it was a good name. Not hard to remember, easy to spell. But as I’ve written before, these days “Karen” has become a pejorative label for a woman who reeks of arrogance and entitlement. There are people who, when introduced to me, would hear that name, and think they know all about me. I may be named Karen, but I am not my name!
Nicknames, especially derogatory ones, not only affect how others see a person, but also how one sees oneself. I wasn’t athletic as a child. I was so clumsy that when my mother sent me to ballet classes, the teacher suggested I try piano lessons instead. The other kids began calling me “Karen the Klutz,” and so, I avoided sports, didn't join teams, never learned to dance. A silly little childhood nickname, and yet I let it define what I could and couldn't do. Those names, those labels that we toss about so casually, reduce people — including ourselves — to a single identity that may or may not be a positive one.
We tend to think we know a person just by hearing a word or two about them. Whether it’s a job description, physical characteristic, or nickname, all these labels do the same thing: they focus on a simple identity and ignore the essence. And yet, we go through our days doing just that: pigeonholing people with a word or two.
What do you think of when you think of a gravedigger? It’s a job where brawn, not brains, is required. It’s an honest and necessary profession, but “nice Jewish girls” don't dream of growing up and marrying gravediggers. Would it surprise you to know that one of the great Talmudic Sages, Abba Shaul, was a gravedigger? Or that Hillel, who became the leader of the Sanhedrin, chopped wood for a living? Or that Albert Einstein, one of the greatest scientists in history, worked for years as a clerk in a patent office?
Let’s get back to Moses and the Rebbe’s comment about names and essential identity. Although Moses’ name isn't mentioned in the parshah, Moses-the-person permeates it. The parshah describes building the Tabernacle and the inauguration of Aaron as the High Priest. Moses appears throughout the text, as he is not only the person transmitting the parshah to the people, he’s the one who will inaugurate the Tabernacle and install Aaron as Priest. Whether he is referred to by his name, “Moses,” or “you” (as in the parshah), there is no doubt he is the main character in the narrative. He is more than his name.
In fact, according to the Midrash, Moses had ten names! And G-d also has many names. But when we think and talk of G-d, we all understand that none of those names defines G-d; they only reflect a particular attribute. Even stringing all those names together wouldn’t suffice. They are just a simple way to identify G-d in one of His aspects, but we all know He is not limited by any name.
We need to remind ourselves that we are all created in His image; we have souls containing a spark of Him within us. We, like G-d, are not limited by our names. Even if we added all of Moses’ ten names together, they wouldn't add up to the person that is Moses.
So, next time you see a garbage collector, think of Abba Shaul the gravedigger. Think of Einstein the clerk. Think of Hillel the woodchopper. Think of Moses, our greatest teacher, whose name wasn’t even mentioned once in our parshah. And remember what the Rebbe taught: one’s name is not one’s essential identity. We are all very much more than a name.
