Erev Yom Kippur: What’s in a Name?

Sermon by Rabbi Sim Glaser
2015/5776

Being a bit of a “know it all” I like to tell people that on Yom Kippur it is not really appropriate to say “Good Yontov” because it is not a Yom Tov. And Happy New Year is never really the correct greeting.

The usual response is: well what the heck should I say??

Probably the safest bet is G’mar Hatimah Tova, or G’mar tov, meaning “May you be inscribed for blessing in the book of life. And that conjures up the image of our names being inked into some celestial document as the old Jewish folk song says it: “He makin’ a list, and checkin’ it twice, gonna find out who’s naughty and nice.”

But our names seem to hold some importance. One thing we all have in common tonight is that each of us has a name. Some of us love our names, others maybe not so much.

I grew up with a weird name. My parents named me Simeon Israel Glaser. Simeon being the biblical equivalent of Sigmund, named after my mother’s deceased father who perished in the Shoah. Israel is the name given by the Nazis in 1939 to all Jewish men, Sarah was the name for all Jewish women, so that the Germans could identify Jews. In those dark days no newborn German Jewish baby could have a German name. My parents gave me the name Israel in a defiance of that law.

Our names all come from somewhere, and usually to some purpose. The names we bestow on our children are laden with meaning for those who name us, but also of course for us who are named. To some extent, every name becomes sort of an assignment, a destiny even. You learn to live with the name, and it shapes you.

I have been intrigued my entire life by the names people give their children. Rabbi Jared Saks, our previous assistant rabbi used to speak of a friend he had growing up by the name of Nancy Cianci. Yes, the Cianci’s named their daughter Nancy, and it gets better – her middle name was Anne. She was, in fact, Nancy Anne Cianci. I’m sure each of us has a story of a name beyond belief we heard or read somewhere. There is an entire website dedicated to delightfully odd names.

Many years ago there was a popular Johnny Cash song A Boy Named Sue. I have always related to it personally. Goes a little something like this:

My daddy left home when I was three

And he didn't leave much to ma and me

Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.

Now, I don't blame him cause he run and hid

But the meanest thing that he ever did

Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue."

The song then details how “Sue” grew up strong and resilient and able to defend himself in difficult times. He meets up with his dad, they have a fierce barroom brawl, and are about to kill each other when the dad says,

Listen son, this world is rough

And if a man's gonna make it,

he's gotta be tough

And I knew I wouldn't be there to help ya along.

So I give ya that name and I said goodbye

I knew you'd have to get tough or die

And it's the name that helped to make you strong."

The song concludes on a note of acceptance, kind of as Sue, the narrator says:

And I think about him, now and then,

Every time I try and every time I win,

And if I ever have a son, I think I'm gonna name him…

Bill or George! Anything but Sue! I still hate that name!

And people choose to rename themselves. In Rabbinical School I had two classmates, Beth Jarecky and Jonathan Lubarsky who were married and were concerned about the hyphenated  Jarecky-Lubarsky for themselves or their children, so they up and decided to dump both names and adopt the name “Singer”, because they both love music. To this day they are Rabbis Jonathan and Beth Singer, and they are plenty happy in San Francisco as is their choir of little Singers.

Our Jewish tradition places huge importance on names. Sarah in the Torah is told she will bear a child at the age of 90 and says that everyone who hears of it will laugh, so the child is named Yitzchak  - meaning “laughter. Her grandson Jacob becomes Yisrael because he actually wrestles with an angel of God and that is what Yisrael means. His first and eldest son with Leah is to be named Reuven, a perfectly logical choice because it means “look, a son!” Many Hebrew names are given in relation to God. Yonatan means gift of God, Yoel means God is willing.

Modern Israeli names took on natural agricultural themes, like Ital (Island of Dew) or Tamar (date palm) or Tzvi (deer).

It is well known that in our tradition children are named after deceased relatives, often with the hope they will possess the best characteristics of those whom we have loved and lost. Some are named for great heroes. As many Jewish Abrahams are named for Lincoln as for the Torah’s first monotheist. Alexander has been a popular Jewish boy’s name that dates back to the famous Alexander the Great’s historic conquest of 4th century Palestine and his kind treatment of the Jewish people there. We never forget a favor.

Considering how many Jewish celebrities there are, it is interesting to note that rarely are Jewish children named after such notables. Even in biblical times those famous names, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Rebecca, Jacob, Rachel, Leah, Joseph and Moses - you know they do not reappear in the Jewish bible after that, and nobody really knows why this is. And curiously, not one scholar in the Talmud is named Abraham, Israel or David. Some names of biblical prophets are used, some not, and nobody seems to know why that is either.

Then there is the superstitious custom of changing a person’s name in the time of serious illness to confuse the angel of death as to whether He is visiting the correct person, like we can pull one over on the Angel of Death.

The bestowing of names is among the earliest themes in the Torah. As soon as creation happened naming things was put on the front burner. The rabbis have a wonderful Midrash for when Adam was created. Seems God was so excited and proud and told the angels: Look! Look at what I created. He’s so bright! But the angels were not impressed. He’s so smart? Come on, they said, what’s so great about him? We’re here in heaven with you. We’re the ones who know everything. But God is insistent and says: “Want to see?” and puts a four legged animal on the earth and says watch this: Adam says “this shall be called dog” and this one giraffe, and this one elephant. The angels are stumped. They couldn’t do this because they had never been to earth. And then Adam names himself Adam saying: I am Adam because I come from adamah – the earth itself.

And then comes a wonderful moment when God says to Adam: and what shall be your name for Me? Adam could have said anything. Could have said: Irving, or Shirley! But Adam said: You shall be called Adonai because you are Lord over all Your works.

Why is this important? Because in giving God that name we are the ones who declare God Master. We need to be servants and do God’s work. The name Adonai is crucial to our relationship with God. But we are the ones who make it so. By way of a name.

A lot of our young people over the years have confessed their difficulties with belief in God and I wonder sometimes if it isn’t a problem with the names and the descriptions we give to God that throws us off. Ruler, King, Savior and Protector… Names are what help us establish relationship. Look at all the nicknames and the pet names we give each other.

The word “God” itself is not of our creation. To truly understand the name of God you have to go to the Hebrew source. Confronting the letters Yud Hey Vav Hey we find it to be virtually unpronounceable. Try as you might the best you would get is the sound of breathing. (demonstrate).

If names are so important, why would the master of all creation have one that isn’t pronounceable? Perhaps it is because the meaning of our lives goes well beyond the name.

There is a story of a Sage who sends his young students out to find the best characteristic of a human being. The first student returns telling his master that the best characteristic of a human being is to have an ayin tovah, a good eye, a good outlook on the world. The next returns saying a person should have a shem tov, a good name. The third says one should be a haver tov - a good friend and neighbor. The last comes back and says the highest value for a person is that he or she should possess a lev tov. A Good heart. The Rebbe tells his students that these are all good answers, and each is a valued part of a person’s character, but he says the best answer is to have a lev tov. A good heart.

Perhaps this story holds a key to the puzzle. Maybe our names really are not our last word. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, some playwright once said. Montegue or not, Romeo would be as beloved to his Juliet. Yes, we are given names, like labels on cans, but it is the goodness of our hearts that ultimately determine the power of your name, and not the other way around. We read in Pirkei Avot - Al tistakel b’kankan, eleh b’mah she yesh bo”. Don’t look at the label, rather at the contents.

When we ask God to inscribe us in the book of life for a sweet and healthy year, on some level we hope that our name will be listed in that “book”. But what really matters is what heft we are going to bring to our name over the coming year. How are we going to make the name that we were given count, the name we have schlepped hither and yon for lo these many decades, how are we going to make that name be worthy of blessing this year.

Perhaps this is why the great master of Hasidism was called the Ba’al Shem Tov - Master of the good name. There are two ways to translate Ba’al Shem Tov. The one who owns the holy name and therefore brings Divine power to whatever he does. Or the one who is characterized by a good reputation. I prefer the latter. His shem, his name is “tov” - good - because wherever he journeyed he brought good things to people. His name now had power.

However we feel about our names, no matter whom we are named for, or what our parents had in mind when they gave our names to us, maybe this year we will think about what it means to go forth in this world and lead others to associate our name with goodness, with kindness, with love of humanity.

If this happens, then no matter what your name is. Irving, Bertha, Nancy, Sue, Shlemiel Shlemazel, or, God help you, Simeon, your name, when heard by others, will bring joy and healing.

The poet Zelda wrote: Each of us has a name, given by God, given by our father and mother. Each of us has a name, given by our stature and our way of smiling, and given by our clothing. Each of us has a name given by the planets and given by our neighbors, given by our sins and given by our longing. Each of us has a name given by our enemies and by our love. Each of us has a name given by the seasons of the year and given to us by our blindness. Each of us has a name given by the ocean and given by our death.

G’mar hatima tovah, may we be inscribed for blessings in the book of life. May all our names ascend to lofty heights, and be associated with goodness and peace, because it is our will to make it so.

L’shana tova.