B"H
So, med school life has sadly perturbed my blog writing schedule, and I haven't posted about three weeks. But, I have not forgotten about this adventure, and now that break has begun, I have time to write (huzzah!). While I'm not sure how I'm going to make up the past few parshiyot, I will continue week this adventure with this week's section, because we start a new Book of the Torah this week with Parshat Shemot (שמות), or "Names." Shemot is also the Hebrew name for the entire book known commonly as Exodus.
This week's got quite a bit with which to work. Shemot recounts the growth in numbers of the Hebrew population who were allowed to settle in Pharaoh's land, all thanks to Joseph's good graces with the Pharaoh. However, a new ruler, who doesn't know that Joseph and the Pharaoh are chums, feared the Jews would take over his domain and enslaved them. All male Hebrew babies were subject to death by law, but the Hebrew midwives of Egypt, who did not want to kill these children for fear of G-D's wrath, negotiate with the Pharaoh and have these children sent down the Nile.
Pause. Sent down the Nile?! I'm trying to imagine I'm one of the midwives (midhusbands? male-midwives? ... oh whatever, just roll with it)! I do not want to follow Pharaoh's orders and kill babies as I fear G-D and I work with babies as a career, but here's my compromise. Lets STARVE and DEHYDRATE the babies to death if they don't outright DROWN, instead of killing them swiftly...add some torture before their inevitable death! Just so we are all clear, despite what happens in the rest of the story, such actions do not reflect a decent compromise. Every year I read this section, the rationalization of "what to do with the Hebrew male children" infuriates me.
Back to the story.
An unnamed daughter of Levi, who is later identified as Yocheved (יוכבד) in next week's parshah, gives birth to a male baby, and tries to hide him as long as possible. But, like the other Hebrew mothers, she eventually succumbed to the orders of the Egyptian ruler and cast her baby down the Nile in a basket, padded with clay and pitch, to ensure it stayed afloat. The boy's sister, not mentioned here but whose name is Miriam (מרים), watches from a distance as he travels down the river. Conveniently, the Pharaoh's daughter is bathing in the Nile when she comes across the baby, finds compassion in the sight of the boy, and desires to raise him as her own. Miriam is swift to ask if she could find a Hebrew wet nurse for the boy in the interim, and recruits none other than Yocheved. Eventually, the baby is turned back over to the Egyptian princess and is named Moses (משה), meaning "he who was drawn from the water."
The Torah fast forwards to Moses' recognition of the brutalities the Hebrew people, of whom he is one. But, perhaps Moses needs a bit of anger-management training, for he kills an Egyptian for striking a Hebrew. Look, I'm in no way defending either beating another person nor the practice of enslavement, but killing is a big no-no. And, according to the Torah, Moses only did so because no one was around to witness his actions! Well, apparently SOMEONE was watching, as the next day, Moses attempts to counsel two fighting Hebrews, and one replies something to the tune of "who died and made you Pharaoh? Are you gonna strike me down like you did to that Egyptian?" Moses realizes, "Oh crap...my secret's out," and he runs away because now Pharaoh's got a death warrant for him.
Moses ends up rounding up the escaped sheep of Jethro (יתרו), the chief of Midian, stays with the chief, and marries the chief's daughter, Tziporah (צפורה). [Side note: ...I guess until now I never stopped to think about how little the Torah describes the arrangements of marriage, or the development of relationships. I'm assuming, based on sociocultural traditions, that Moses married Tziporah versus the other six of his daughters because she was the oldest unmarried daughter.] They have a kiddo named Gershom (גרשם), meaning "a temporary resident there (i.e., in a foreign land)."
All is peachy in Midian, until one day G-D appears to Moses in a burning bush that is miraculously not consumed by flames. Moses fears to look at G-D. G-D assigns Moses as the liberator of the Hebrew people from the enslavement of Pharaoh...you know, just a super causal chore, no biggie.
Rightfully so in my opinion, Moses fires questions after question at G-D, starting with why he, of all the Hebrew people, is destined for such a task? G-D doesn't really answer this first question at hand but assures Moses that he has G-D's protection. Apparently, such promise is sufficient for Moses, who proceeds to ask another question. Moses knows that the Hebrew people are going to want to know G-D's name, and thus inquires G-D's name. G-D again fails to answer the question and says, "Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh (אהיה אשר אהיה)," or "I will be who/what I will be." Moses still is not so sure and asks G-D a third question. "And how am I exactly supposed to tell the elders of the Hebrew people that You have indeed spoken to me, and I'm not just some crazy lunatic?" For this concern, G-D gives Moses perhaps some of the coolest parlour trick in the history of mankind: the ability to change his staff into a snake, the ability to inflict and heal leprosy on contact, and changing the waters of the Nile into blood.
So, Moses is convinced that he can prove his encounter, except for one tiny problem...Moses proclaims that he is not a "man of words" but is "heavy of mouth and heavy of tongue." But G-D retorts that G-D makes people deaf, dumb, or blind, and G-D knows that Moses is the right person for the job and will be right beside him.
Moses leaves Jethro (with blessings) and takes his wife and kids (oh by the way, Moses' second son Eliezer is born and not mentioned until later in the Book. Why Gershom is mentioned but not Eliezer nags at my brain). Oh, and can't forget the staff of G-D! Moses meets up with his brother, Aaron (אהרן), tells him G-D's message, and the people believe Moses. Moses (with Aaron by his side) approaches Pharaoh to demand the release of the Hebrew people. Pharaoh is enraged by the audacity of this man, and intensifies the workload placed upon the Hebrew people. (Can't say I didn't see that one coming...just saying). Despite Moses' fears, G-D promises to Moses great redemption is nearby.
Cliffhanger...and end parshah.
So, I guess throughout the entirety of this parshah, I couldn't help but ask myself over and over again, why is this section entitled "Names?" Structurally, the sections of Torah are titled as they are because these words often occur in the first sentence of the Book (many times as the first unique word of the sentence). Following that logic, the very first lines of the section list the twelve sons of Jacob (in case you forgot that First Book previously listed them a few times...oh, and note than Dinah is left out, again). But, that answer does not satisfy me. I want to find something more meaningful in the name "Names." And, I think I'm onto something interesting here that each character offers for Torah readers. In Jewish circles, a name is more than a random assignment, but signifies the essence of the thing it represents. There is an intangible link to symbolism in names, not unique to Judaism per se, but it is important to recognize, especially in the context of Toraic commentary.
(For my non-Jewish readers, this next section gets a bit Hebrew heavy, and I will do my best to explain the Hebrew as clearly as possible, because it's so important to the message here. Here's my thirty second Hebrew lesson: basically, the big picture is that the VAST MAJORITY of Hebrew words derive from a three-letter root of consonants. Various letters are placed before, inside, or after the root to transform the word to make it a noun, verb, adjective, or even an entirely different word. These roots can be shared and have entirely different meanings, although, to distinguish one from the other, they usually take on different vowel sounds (as they are not part of the root). The problem: Hebrew is typically written without vowels, and so the only way to decipher which meaning is implied is through context and understanding how different variations of consonants are linked with only certain vowels. It can be very confusing, but through this ambiguity comes great symbolic and literary interpretation possibilities).
Yocheved (יוכבד)
Yocheved, the name of Moses' mother, is often translated as "G-D is glory." The "prefix" yo" (commonly written today as "jo") in names like Jonathan, Joab, Joan, or Joanne means "G-D." The rest of the name is a descriptor. The "glory" part of Yocheved comes from the Hebrew chavod (כבוד), meaning honored or praised. But, her name isn't Yochavod, but Yocheved. I argue that we have perhaps overlooked a second interpretation of her name. I argue here that her name could also translate to "G-D is heavy (or burdensome)" from the Hebrew word chaved (כבד) meaning heavy. While it would be rosy and pretty to idealize and romanticize praise of G-D, I cannot help but empathize with Yocheved as she is forced to cast her baby down the river. No parent should be forced to give up his or her children to starve, drown, and/or die. I think that the duality in her name completes her character; while she perhaps a dutiful servant of G-D, she has earthly struggles with the fact that G-D would ever subject her to abandon her child (seen in delaying Moses' trip down the Nile). She becomes a more humanistic character in such interpretation, as we can resonate with her struggle and doubt in some element of our lives.
Miriam (מרים)
The name of Moses' sister, Miriam, is interesting. I have personal connections to this name as it is my mother's first name in Hebrew. Its definition, however, is truly an enigma. Part of the confusion rests with the etymology of the name Miriam...is it Egyptian or Hebrew? This is a consideration one must ponder, as the Hebrew people did not live in an isolated bubble and were subject to the influences of the Egyptian society in which they lived. To this point, upon some research, the name formula "Meri(t)-_____" is a common ancient Egyptian arrangement meaning "beloved of ______", the blank usually following by a deity. "Miriam" could thus be an odd regeneration of "Meri-Amun," meaning "beloved of Amun." The question such scholarship must then answer is why would a Hebrew ever name his/her name with a non-Jewish deity? Perhaps the parent(s) didn't know its meaning but liked its sound? It's the only reason I can decipher. Thus, the side of the Hebrew etymology, is challenged to come up with a better explanation. And it's difficult at first. The physical appearance and vowel sounds of Miriam in Hebrew are a bit odd for the consonants provided. All things considered, I'm not entirely sure why Miriam is not pronounced "Marim." The sound "im" (ים) can be a common suffix denoting a plural noun or sometimes signify the essence of a noun, like the commonly known Hebrew name, Chaim (חיים, literally: life or livelihood), a name which I am blessed and honored to have been assigned as my own first name. One translation seems to muster some clout, and I think great symbolism with the story. Perhaps Miriam is a compound name for מר-ים ("Mar-Yam"), which provides a clear definition as "Bitter Sea" or "Bitter Waters." Despite a slight perversion of the vowel sounds, such name makes sense in the story, as she was present as Yocheved cast Moses down the Nile. Interestingly, I had no idea of the validity of this definition until I read some commentary by Rashi, one of the greatest and most revered Jewish scholars, who also agrees that her name is suggestive of bitterness, but in reference to the treatment of the Hebrews by the Egyptians. Together, the names of Yocheved and Miriam depict the pain inflicted upon the Hebrew people of sending their male children down the Nile.
Moses (משה)
Despite being the main character in this section, Moses' name is perhaps the most straightforward and simple. He is "drawn from the water," but I think his name takes on more meaning in the context of the Yocheved and Miriam. Yocheved and Miriam do not have their names presented in this section of Torah, but Moses' name is elucidated. I think the message here is that these people are symbols of everyday people. Sure, not everyone can morph a rod into a snake, but all of the Hebrew women cast their children down the Nile. Moses is no different a son, Yocheved no different a mother, and Miriam no different a sister than any of the Hebrew people. In such way, I find comfort in that great things (seen globally in the story of Exodus) can be achieved from ordinary people...even people with disability. Some scholars believe that Moses had a lisp or speech impediment from his remarks about his tongue, and despite this obstacle, Moses, once a boy luckily "drawn from the water" which could have been any child, becomes one of the greatest figures in the Jewish faith.
G-D (אהיה אשר אהיה)
Jews have many many MANY names for G-D, and this is the "name" given by G-D to Moses. But I ask, can G-D have a name? Is ""I will be who/what I will be" a name, or a message? Going back to the concept of names being more than just an arbitrary label, when Moses asked G-D for a name, I think he was asking a deeper question. Indeed, Moses inquired to the very essence of G-D. It is a commonly held belief among religious Jews that the true name of G-D is a tetragrammaton (string of four letters) Jews cannot say or write, but would spell out the English consonants Y-H-V-H, similar actually to the first word Ehyeh that G-D provides. The roots of the True Name derives from the verb "to be," and thus perhaps there is a strange interplay between the literal and figurative in G-D's reply to Moses. If a name embodies an essence, perhaps, I may go so far as to say that G-D is the "Essence of Being." Such message is clearly seen in "I will be who/what I will be." But, G-D's response is more powerful. To me, there is a separation G-D gives to Moses. G-D says to not worry about what the Name is, but that G-D will be what G-D will be. I have found immense personal strength in this message. It has allowed my personal faith to grow, my acceptance of all the possibilities of what G-D is or isn't, and a harmonious balance of my scientific/medical mind and my spiritual dedication. I am not pressured to worry about defining G-D, nor is it my expectation. Simply stated, the fact that G-D "is" is all that matters. Such interpretation is liberating and has fostered my intense spiritual and religious connection with my faith. Additionally, this phrase guides my philosophy on life. There will be times that I cannot explain why something happens, but acceptance of the "here and now" ...the very facts at hand... allows for clarity and healthy enthusiasm for both my scientific and spiritual investigations that guide my life.
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