Who's Your Name?

Friday January 9, 2026/20 Tevet 5786/Shabbat Shemot

וְאֵ֗לֶּה שְׁמוֹת֙ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל הַבָּאִ֖ים מִצְרָ֑יְמָה אֵ֣ת יַעֲקֹ֔ב אִ֥ישׁ וּבֵית֖וֹ בָּֽאוּ׃

These are the names of the sons of Israel who came to Egypt with Jacob, each coming with his household (Shemot 1:1)

Hevre/Friends,

One day after last week’s Shabbat message about grandparents, my sister Malka and brother-in-law Elan welcomed their 5th grandchild - my mother’s 7th great-grandchild - into their growing family. Our nephew, Noam, who lives in the north of Israel with his wife Yael and toddler Ziv, shared the news over our various family channels that their little girl had arrived and everyone was exhausted but doing great. What he didn’t share yet was her name. We had to wait - and guess - for a few more days before the announcement came that she would be called Adi Yehudit, after Elan’s late mother Ida, z”l. We were all moved to know that Ida’s name - and her beauty, strength, and warmth - would be carried forward into the next generation. 

When we preserve someone’s name beyond their death, it’s one of the most powerful expressions of our love for them. Rashi observes that as the Book of Shemot opens as it will tomorrow, the Torah pauses to call each of Jacob’s sons by name once more. They had gone down to Egypt long before, and they had already passed from this world, yet the portion repeats their names again—an intimate gesture that reveals God’s enduring love for them. When we choose a name for a child that memorializes someone who lived before them, it not only conveys our ongoing affection for then, it also imbues that child with a past and a purpose. 

And yet, this precious and sacred responsibility to choose a name for a newborn can be tricky. Sometimes the same exact name is used, repeating it for a new generation. Who would have thought we’d meet so many young people today named Max and Harry, Sadie and Sophie? Sometimes the name doesn’t quite translate to our modern world and so an ancestor’s name is chosen as a middle name, or maybe their Hebrew name is used for the child’s - it becomes part of the child’s identity, even if it’s not their primary name. Sometimes a name is tweaked slightly - an initial is used, or a diminutive: Farrah for Fanny; Nomi for Naomi. Sometimes it’s not the exact name that’s passed on but the meaning or theme of a name - Shoshana for Rose; Michael for the yiddish Michel.

More complicated is when an ancestor leaves a legacy that no one wants repeated; when relationships with them were so troubled that it feels unfair to saddle a child with their name. As each new life comes into the family and a new name is bestowed but never theirs, do they just disappear? Does their presence among relatives just come to an end? 

It takes more than having another human use their name to perpetuate someone’s impact on the world; their values, their contributions, their wisdom. For that to really happen, it’s their story that needs to be repeated. Often. It’s sharing with the next generation about who they were, where and how they grew up, what they made of their lives, who they connected to, which ideas and traditions inspired them, how they struggled and overcame hardship. That’s also why the book of Shemot opens by listing the names of Jacob’s sons once more, because the stories of the Jewish people in Egypt and at Sinai that fill its chapters are anchored in the lives of those siblings and the events that unfolded for them. 

Jewish parents who, in the wake of October 7, have named their newborn sons Hersh and artists like David Byrne who literally drum the names of those who’ve been victims of racial violence into our hearts and minds aren’t just perpetuating social monikers. They’re telling stories. Powerful, meaningful, transformative stories that need to be told and retold. 

Look around at your children and grandchildren, nieces and nephews, and the new generations emerging in your families. Call them by their names, but even better, tell them the stories of their namesakes. And also tell the stories of any difficult relatives whose names were not bestowed upon anyone else, for we can learn much from someone’s mistakes and the pain they may have caused, yet another lesson from our complex, yet courageous, tradition. 

With continued prayers for the return of the last murdered hostage, Ran Gvili, for the bereaved and the injured, and with blessings for a Shabbat Shalom,

Dini