Lech Lecha: The Significance of a Name Change

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In lashon hakodesh, a name is not merely a label, but a reflection of one’s inner essence. Indeed, Rav Paysach Krohn¹ points out that embedded in the word neshama is shem, meaning name. A name is truly the soul of a matter. In Parshat Lech Lecha, Hashem changes the names of Sarai and Avram to Sara and Avraham. Here, we will delve into the nature and significance of this transformation.

Rashi² explains that their names changed to reflect their elevated missions. Avram, originally Av Aram, literally father and practically the influencer of Aram rose up to fulfil his destiny as Avraham, Av Hamon Goyim, father of multiple nations, the world. Indeed, Avraham’s monotheistic teachings have molded many religions and in this way he fathered them. He is also granted the ability to bless other nations. In a similar vein, Sarai’s name change too reflects this expansiveness³. Sarai meaning “My princess” suggesting her private and personal greatness and refinement converted to Sara, the generic term “princess” connoting princess of all. Sara is not merely Sarai, righteous wife of Avram, she is Sara, mother of the Jewish people, wife to her husband’s mission to teach as many people as possible about Hashem, mother to the many souls she inspired. Avram and Sarai excelled in their private roles, in their personal avodat Hashem and then Hashem paved the way for the next stage of their greatness, the public realm.

However, Rav Kook⁴ distinguishes between Avraham and Sara in this respect. He brings an interesting halacha where a person violates a mitzva if they refer to Avraham as Avram. However, we are never commanded such a thing regarding Sarai/Sara. Rav Kook explains that while the two of them entered the more public sphere; hosting any needy guest, teaching every passing soul about Hashem, enlightening the world – the two were not identical. Every element of Avraham’s avoda and philosophy was universal, through logic, reasoning and objective truths both his proofs of G-d and love of chessed. For this reason, he could never again be called Avram.

However, Sarai-turned-Sara held two intertwined identities. She is princess over all, filling the world with holiness, self-perfection and upright character, the epitome of universal goodness. Yet the kedusha of her tent, her pure dough and spiritually glowing candles point to a private princess, exclusively elevating the soul of our nation. While Avraham was the philosophical head of the world, Sara was the morally pure heart; to klal yisrael and the entire world simultaneously. Her mitzvot brought both universal and unique goodness to the world. We can take this distinction into our lives and hold onto both parts of our own feminine identity and princesshood. We can embrace opportunities to host multiple guests or inspire audiences with our Torah yet we never lose sight of the beauty of our Ohel Sara, the character work we perform in the privacy of our own homes.

The Gemara⁵ records that the yud which was taken from Sarai’s name was later given to Yehoshua after complaining it had been detached from the holy Sarai. Yehoshua, whose name was originally Hoshea, had this letter added in order to help him withstand the aveira of the meraglim. Yehoshua stood for “kah yoshiacha,” “Hashem will save you.” Hashem saved Yehoshua from sinning with the rest of the spies by not joining in their lashon hara. However, there is another layer of depth here. The yud added to Hoshea’s name specifically needed to come from a woman such as Sara. In order to understand this, we will unpack the sin of the spies.

Each of the selected spies were leaders of their tribes, men of lofty stature and greatness. How did such righteous people fall? The spies did not speak badly about the land in order to gossip idly or because they were not paying attention to the laws of forbidden speech. The spies had wandered through the desert together with the nation, experiencing the direct and miraculous Hand of Hashem. The daily manna nourished them, their clothes grew with them and the pillar of cloud guided them by day. Entering the land of Eretz Yisrael necessitated giving up all this Divine intervention and committing to working the land, demanding physical labor. No longer would every snake and scorpion in their way be eliminated, no longer would every arrow be absorbed, no longer would their nights be illuminated by a G-dly pillar of fire. The spies were holy men, and they felt that giving up Hashem’s open miracles and immersing in the gashmiut of the land would be a tragedy. They wanted to continue existing in their spiritual utopia. They sinned, badly, but their intentions were pure. They did not want to leave the bubble of Hashem’s embrace in the desert.

The challenge of navigating the physical world and remaining holy is a challenge proudly fought and won each day by the Jewish woman. A woman does not live in the spiritual shelter of a desert; a shul, yeshiva or kollel. A woman must constantly seek to find spiritual depth in mundane activities she occupies herself with; shopping, cooking, working, washing amongst others. Sara Imeinu was a woman who excelled in this area with her ability to penetrate to the spiritual core of the most gashmiut-focused matters. By granting Yehoshua the yud of her name, Sara bequeathed to Yehoshua the most valuable gift which enabled him to separate from the sin of the spies: the ability to see the beauty and goodness of the physicality of the land. It was this most feminine koach which Yehoshua desperately needed.

In the Hebrew language, the letter yud typically symbolises masculine koach while the letter heh represents the feminine. We see this most clearly in the words for man and woman: ‘ish’ and ‘isha.’ Both parties made up of the base word ‘eish’ fire with one of the letters of Hashem’s name (kah) inside, ‘yud’ in ish and ‘heh’ in isha. Many have explained that the masculine ‘yud’ which is essentially no more than a dot, a burst of inspiration represents the ‘undirected intellectual energy or insight⁶’ typical of male energy. Whereas, the heh, a more developed letter illustrates a woman’s talent at developing those sparks into something meaningful. The chomer and the tzura, the mashpia and the mekabel, the wheat and the bread. Rabbi Jack Cohen⁷ elaborates that perhaps this is why in Hebrew grammar, a yud at the beginning of a word makes it future tense as in ‘he will.’ The future has not yet happened but it floats as a potential, an unimplemented idea. Whereas, a heh at the beginning of a word gives something definition as in the definite article which means ‘the.’ Heh refers to something concrete in the world. Male energy excels at the initial flash and spark whereas women hold onto and develop them into actuality. As women, we are endowed with this unique koach to concretise that which is yet unrealised potential. This is what Sara gave Yehoshua.

May we live up to the powerful feminine kochot embedded in our own names!