This piece is dedicated to anyone who has named themself. May your name bring you strength and protection. May your name draw you closer to your own sacred spark.
This week, we are reading from The Book of Numbers. Basically, the Book of Numbers is a collection of stories about the Israelites, wandering in the desert on their circuitous way to the Promised Land. This week’s parasha is called Shlach; Moses is told to send spies into the land to report back. One of those spies is named Hosea, but we learn, very abruptly, that Moses changes his name to Joshua. And my abruptly I mean abruptly. Like, this is all we get:
but Moses changed the name of Hosea son of Nun to Joshua (Numbers 13:16).
Why does he do this?
The name Hosea means “salvation.” And Joshua means more specifically, “G-d will save” or “G-d is salvation” (fun fact: this is etymologically related to the name Jesus). Perhaps Moses wanted to rename Hosea to protect him as he went about the spying. Who knows what could have happened out there and a name could be some sort of symbolic shield. In fact, Joshua does become only one of two spies (the other being, Caleb) to come back with a positive report. The rest of the spies are scared and see themselves as too small and weak to venture forward.
“All the people that we saw in it are of great size…and we looked like grasshoppers to ourselves, and so we must have looked to them,” they say (Numbers 12:32-33).
Maybe it did protect Joshua’s spirit. Or, perhaps even pumped him up for the challenge ahead! It’s hard to tell why Moses does this with such little information. But, we do know that this is not the first time someone in Torah experiences a name change.
In the Book of Genesis, Abram becomes Abraham, Sarai becomes Sarah, and Jacob becomes Israel (or at least, in addition, becomes Israel).
In the Book of Daniel, Daniel and his friends receive Babylonian names (Daniel 1:7). In the Book of Esther, Esther seems to be only one name of the title character, with Hadassah as the other (Esther 2:7).
And this week, Hosea becomes Joshua. In all of these scenarios, a change in name signifies something quite important. In the second examples, for Daniel and Esther, names represent assimilation into the dominant culture and maintenance of their Jewish selves. Daniel and Esther are experience what it means to be a Jew in the diaspora, and to negotiate who they are with an incongruous culture or language.
But in the first examples, the name change suggests a new found closeness to The Divine. The name change is less the creation of a second identity and more and evolution of the self. Abraham and Sarah get their names from G-d, the Torah tells us, as they enter into a covenant with G-d. Jacob becomes Israel from wrestling with a messenger of G-d.
And now, Moses names Joshua, to invoke holy protection, it seems. Or, to ready him for a new adventure.
Still, this time is different. Though Moses is a prophet, he is a person. He is offering the new naming, not G-d. He is ushering Joshua through this evolution. He is doing the work of G-d. Is that too bold of him? Or is it exactly what we mean when we read that humans are created b’etzelem Elohim?
B’etzelem Elohim means that every single person is created in the likeness of The Divine. There is something holy about each of us. When Moses renames Joshua, he shows us that we aren’t just created once. We are constantly creating ourselves. Hosea was named Hosea and thus came into being in that way. And when Hosea was named Joshua, maybe, he was created… again?
Everyday we decide who we are. With every breath we are a little bit...recreated...right? We create ourselves, as mini universes. When we choose our names or ask to be addressed in a new way, we exercise some profoundly sacred muscle. We make meaning out of ourselves. We write our own story. And maybe, we draw closer to the eternal creative force that lives inside us all.
The above was an adaptation of a d’var Torah that I wrote and delivered at Camp Tawonga in the Summer of 2021.