Parshat Vayishlah: Changing Names and Neighbors

Rabbi Avi S. Olitzky

Rabbi Avi S. Olitzky
December 13, 2008 / 16 Kislev 5769

It is remarkable how subtle and yet how different we view the character of Jacob and the character of Israel. The same exact person…yet not really. When God changes Jacob’s name to Israel, to Yisrael, Rashi explains to us that Jacob evolves from a man of deceit and trickery to a man of honor: a prince and a leader. A man who struggled with God and himself, and overcame the two to emerge a man reformed for the better.

But Jacob is not the only one with a name change in this morning’s Torah reading.

We read just moments ago that Rachel dies while giving birth to her last son. In her final moments of suffering, Rachel lets out her ultimate words in a whimper, naming her son, Ben-Oni, the son of my anguish, the son of my mourning. But Jacob does not call the boy Ben-Oni, and instead, names him Benjamin, Benyamin.

Ramban shares with us that Jacob wanted to honor Rachel’s wishes, but could not allow his son to grow up with such an identity. And so Jacob heard Ben-Oni not as son of my mourning, but as son of my strength, as Reuben is eventually blessed as Reshit Oni, the beginning of my strength (Genesis 49:3). Jacob then renames Ben-Oni as none other than Benjamin, Benyamin, literally, the son of the right, we understand, for the right arm is the seat of strength.

Jacob will not be reminded of the pain this boy brought to his mother. Neither does he want to remind the boy of such. With the name change, Benjamin evolves from the pit of his mother’s anguish, to the bedrock of his father’s might.

Many of us have changed our names here. Countless women often will take on their husband’s family name, while some men will take on their wife’s name. Sometimes a couple will create a new last name, together. Or, perhaps, we are the descendants of generations who changed their names when they came to this country. Maybe there are nicknames that become legal names…

Nevertheless, these name changes – the literal concept of legally re-identifying one’s self – that is not to what we are referring today.

These name changes in our Torah are actually representative of something much greater. With both Benjamin and Israel: the person is reborn; the person is new to the world and new to us.

Yes, the name changes in this morning’s parashah are about re-envisioning the self. Indeed, it is quite commonplace for us to find the charge within our text and our tradition to do some hesbon hanefesh, to rethink who we are and to chart a new and improved course in life. What is not commonplace, however, is what we can glean from this morning’s name changes.

The actual name change is not what is significant, but that it is an outside party who does the name-changing. And as such, the message embedded in our parashah today is actually deeper than what we might have initially anticipated.

This is not a message about personal repentance, teshuvah. This is a charge for all of us to change the name of our neighbors, that is, we should be the guardian angels for our brothers and sisters around us, helping them to become better people, helping them to do teshuvah. And therefore, our reading teaches us about helping someone else to look at themselves in a new light. And that, my friends, is certainly not the normal advice we receive.

As I mentioned moments ago, we often hear that we should be doing teshuvah, that we should be reevaluating ourselves. But, in truth, sometimes it is we, and only we, who can serve as the impetus for change for our fellow human beings. We become the motivators. We become the catalysts. Sometimes all it takes is a nudge from another person in the opposite direction. And we must be willing to give that nudge.

As our week comes to a close, we are starting to learn that Patricia Blagojevich could have been the driving force behind the Governor’s alleged misdoings. What if she had pushed him to stop instead of edge on?

Alan Greenspan said that the financial system failed because he didn’t expect people to be so greedy, both borrowers and lenders, and, in his opinion, “no one told anyone to stop.”

And then just Thursday there was Sheriff Richard Jones of Butler County, Ohio, who said that “evicting former owners and tenants during winter weather and a recession is heartless.” And so he stopped. In the entire nation, Sheriff Jones has become only the third sheriff on record this year to refuse to process some eviction orders. Some might say this is wonderful. Others might say where is everyone else?

Yes, we are taught by our tradition in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Perahiah to give each person the benefit of the doubt, dan et kol adam l’khaf zekhut, but that only works the first time. Especially during this holiday season.

What does it mean to inspire others to be better, to help be that name-changer? It means we need to be there to help a person realize when perhaps they’ve spent too much, or hasn’t spent wisely. It means we need to be there to help a person put down the bottle when they may have gone one sip too far. It means we need to be there to help a person not take an extra latke or not put on the extra glob of sour cream. Sure, we need to worry about ourselves, but we can be the wakeup call for each and every person around us.

There is a thin line between serving as a catalyst, as a name-changer, and meddling in the business of others, but we must act on our gut, we must act out of that innate feeling to speak up, to help someone else. Because it means that you too can be that angel for someone else to wrestle with, it means that you too can be that parent-figure for someone else, and share with them: No more will I consider you a liar. No more will I consider you unhealthy. No more will I consider you unmotivated, apathetic, unengaged. No more will I consider you an addict. No more will I consider you greedy.

But then just as the angel eventually escorts Jacob to his renaming by God, and just as Jacob rears Benjamin to adulthood, we have to be there by our neighbor’s side every step of the way.

It is difficult and sometimes painful to reach out and push a person, and it obviously must be done with tact. As we walk this thorny path together, may we all be blessed with the knowledge to distinguish when to act with the strength of an angelic wrestler and when to act with the gentle, reserved touch of the new parent. Amen.