Lesson dated 29 Tevet 5767

Table of Contents

• The transition from El Shaddai to Y-H-V-H and the meaning of a name
• Rashi: God as judgment and the Name as mercy as a model for the transition
• Ibn Ezra: a proper name versus a description, and the linguistic distinction of reference
• Nachmanides: “overriding the constellations,” “through it every existent comes to be,” and the illuminating lens
• Three worlds: creation–formation–action, creation ex nihilo and from something already existing
• Matter and form, name and description, and the example of “Who is a Jew?”
• Nachmanides on Genesis: “created” as bringing forth something from nothing and prime matter
• Y-H-V-H as the essential name, and the other names as descriptions of manifestation
• Or HaChaim and the Ramak: “His name and He are one,” and a name as indicating essence
• Examples from the Rogatchover: the divine name has “no parts”
• Maimonides: names that may not be erased, appellations, and the distinction between “the explicit Name” and derivative names
• “Derivative” and “inclusive”: a framework for explaining Maimonides and its implication for oaths and curses

Summary

General Overview

The text opens with the verse, “I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob as El Shaddai, but by My name Y-H-V-H I was not known to them,” and presents the transition from the book of Genesis to the book of Exodus as a transition from revelation through El Shaddai to revelation through the name Y-H-V-H, while asking what the significance of changing names is if a name is supposedly just an “address.” It presents Rashi on Genesis as the basis for the distinction between the attribute of judgment (God) and the attribute of mercy (the Name), and as a model for a similar transition between the books of the Torah. It then brings Ibn Ezra and Nachmanides to explain that the names El Shaddai / God are descriptions connected to action and to the systems of nature, whereas Y-H-V-H is the essential name, the name that brings being into existence, and revelation through it is an “illuminating lens.” After a philosophical development of the distinction between name and description, and between matter and form through the concepts of creation–formation–action, the text moves to halakhic implications in Maimonides: the distinction between the “seven names” that may not be erased and appellations that may be erased, and within the names themselves, the distinction between the explicit Name and derivative names that are not inclusive.

The transition from El Shaddai to Y-H-V-H and the meaning of a name

The opening depicts the Holy One, blessed be He, as reintroducing Himself to Moses and telling him that He is Y-H-V-H, clarifying that the One who appeared to the Patriarchs as El Shaddai is the same One now appearing as Y-H-V-H. The text asks why in Genesis Y-H-V-H almost does not appear after the creation narrative, and what the significance is of the difference between revelation as El Shaddai and revelation as Y-H-V-H in the transition from Genesis to Exodus. It raises a basic difficulty: if a name is something arbitrary, or just a “handle” for addressing someone, what difference does it make which name is used.

Rashi: God as judgment and the Name as mercy as a model for the transition

Rashi on “In the beginning God created” is explained as distinguishing between the attribute of judgment (God), which appears in chapter 1, and the precedence of the attribute of mercy (the Name) and its joining with judgment in chapter 2: “on the day that the Lord God made earth and heaven.” The text argues that the very same transition that takes place between chapter 1 and chapter 2 of Genesis also takes place between the book of Genesis and the book of Exodus, and from there begins an attempt to understand the meaning of the names.

Ibn Ezra: a proper name versus a description, and the linguistic distinction of reference

The text quotes Ibn Ezra on the portion, who says that there is no difference in identity between El Shaddai and Y-H-V-H, but there is a functional difference: Shaddai is a description, and the honored Name is sometimes a proper name and sometimes a descriptive title, and it alone can function as a proper name. From here the text builds a general distinction between two ways of referring to an entity: addressing it through a unique description versus addressing it through a name. A description is not inherently unique, even though it can be used for unique reference if it points to one particular thing.

Nachmanides: “overriding the constellations,” “through it every existent comes to be,” and the illuminating lens

Nachmanides is cited as explaining that El Shaddai is the power through which “He overrides the constellations” and helps His chosen ones, whereas through the name Y-H, “through it every existent comes to be,” He was not known to the Patriarchs “to create new things for them by changing the natural order,” and therefore Moses informs the Jewish people of “the great Name” through which wondrous acts are done. The text explains “overriding the constellations” as changing the systems of nature from within existing nature—that is, producing something from something—whereas Y-H-V-H is being itself, establishing existence from nothing. Nachmanides is also cited “by way of the true teaching” as distinguishing between revelation through the lens of El Shaddai and the non-attainment of “the illuminating lens,” through which “they knew Me… face to face.” Alongside this, the text argues that the Patriarchs knew “the unique Name” together with Adnut, or Adnut alone, but were not made to know Him in prophecy as the appearance of Y-H-V-H.

Three worlds: creation–formation–action, creation ex nihilo and from something already existing

The text returns to Ibn Ezra and presents a framework of three worlds in which the lower world receives power from the intermediate world according to the upper system. Moses reaches cleaving to the honored Name at a level the Patriarchs did not attain, and therefore he can “change the natural order of the lower world and renew signs and wonders.” It interprets the three worlds as creation (something from nothing, the bringing into being of primordial matter), formation (giving form to existing matter), and action (the appearance of matter and form joined together as in the world we perceive). From this it concludes that Y-H-V-H belongs to the world of creation as “the name that brings being into existence,” whereas El and Shaddai belong to the lower worlds that deal with something from something and with clothing forms onto matter.

Matter and form, name and description, and the example of “Who is a Jew?”

The text develops a philosophical distinction between “the thing itself” (matter abstracted from its properties) and properties / essence (form), and applies it not only to concrete objects but also to concepts. The example of the debate over “Who is a Jew?” is presented as a case where it seems that there is a real disagreement and not merely a dispute over “rights to use a word.” From this comes the claim that there is a “concept” as an entity in itself beyond the collection of properties, with the two sides arguing over its characteristics. From here a linguistic claim is built: most sentences attach a property to a subject, and the striking statement that concerns the thing itself rather than its properties is “that it exists,” whereas addressing something by name—for example, “Moshe”—is a linguistic way of pointing to the entity itself rather than to its properties.

Nachmanides on Genesis: “created” as bringing forth something from nothing and prime matter

The text cites Nachmanides on the beginning of Genesis, where he says that “created” means bringing something forth from nothing, and that after the creation of “a very fine element… prepared to receive form,” which is “the first matter… hyle,” “after hyle He did not create anything, but formed and made.” It uses this to sharpen the point that creation deals with establishing primordial matter, while formation and action deal with clothing forms and ordering created reality.

Y-H-V-H as the essential name, and the other names as descriptions of manifestation

After gathering the various hints, the text concludes that Y-H-V-H is the essential name that refers to the very essence of the Holy One, blessed be He, and is not a description of an action or quality, whereas El, Shaddai, God, Lordship, and the like are descriptions of modes of manifestation. It connects this to the ontological plane as well: Y-H-V-H deals with the essence of being and existence itself (something from nothing), while the other names deal with what is done with existence and with its manifestations (something from something), and are therefore descriptive titles.

Or HaChaim and the Ramak: “His name and He are one,” and a name as indicating essence

Or HaChaim on “and by My name Y-H-V-H I was not known to them” is cited as arguing that the Holy One, blessed be He, “His name and He are one,” and therefore the precise wording is “I was not known” and not “I did not make known,” because with the name Y-H-V-H we are speaking about the speaker Himself, not external information about His name. The Ramak is cited as explaining that “the name of the Infinite… indicates His essence” and serves as a “handle” that makes it possible to speak about the Infinite, and that without it “we could not speak of Him.” The Ramak distinguishes between human names, which are “conventional” and do not indicate essence, and His blessed names, which “all indicate the quality of the thing named,” while placing Y-H-V-H as the exception that indicates His essence.

Examples from the Rogatchover: the divine name has “no parts”

The text cites in the name of the Rogatchover an aggadic example, “If a man and woman merit it, the Divine Presence is between them,” and explains that the divine name has no parts, just as the Holy One, blessed be He, has no parts. Therefore the letter yod by itself is not “half a name” but nothing at all for purposes of the Divine Presence, until the combination comes together. It also brings a halakhic example in the name of the Jerusalem Talmud, that one who writes two letters from the divine name on the Sabbath is liable “according to all opinions,” and explains this through the principle that the divine name has no parts, so the two letters are not a “part” of the name but rather the writing of two letters as an act of writing.

Maimonides: names that may not be erased, appellations, and the distinction between “the explicit Name” and derivative names

The text moves to Jewish law and centers the topic on the laws of erasing the Name in Maimonides, in the Laws of the Foundations of the Torah: one who destroys a name from the sacred names is flogged, and there are seven names—“the name written yod-heh-vav-heh, and this is the explicit Name,” Adnut, El, Eloah, Elohim, Elohai, Shaddai, Tzevaot—and anyone who erases even one letter of them is flogged. It quotes Maimonides that appellations such as gracious and merciful, great, mighty, awesome, faithful, jealous, and strong are like the rest of sacred writings and may be erased. From this the text sets out three categories: the explicit Name as a category unto itself, the other six names that may not be erased but are not the explicit Name, and appellations, which are general descriptions.

“Derivative” and “inclusive”: a framework for explaining Maimonides and its implication for oaths and curses

The text proposes a framework in which Maimonides distinguishes between names according to two parameters: whether they are “derivative,” that is, meaningful, and whether they are “inclusive,” applying to a class and not only to the Holy One, blessed be He. It concludes that Y-H-V-H is “neither derivative nor inclusive,” and therefore it is the explicit Name and the essential name; that the other six names are “derivative but not inclusive,” as descriptions unique to the Holy One, blessed be He, and therefore they may not be erased; and that appellations are “derivative and inclusive,” and therefore they may be erased. It argues that for an oath, an appellation may suffice in the sense of a derivative name that is not inclusive, because an oath creates legal force and requires a mode of address that points uniquely to the Holy One, blessed be He. By contrast, for a curse, a uniquely identifying description may be enough, because the issue there is reference rather than the use of a name for the purpose of creating legal effect.

“I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob as El Shaddai, but by My name the Lord I was not known to them.” So the portion basically opens with, as it were, the Holy One, blessed be He, introducing Himself מחדש to Moses and saying to him: Shalom aleichem, I am Y-H-V-H. And then He tells him: you should know that to the Patriarchs in the book of Genesis, someone appeared under the name El Shaddai—that was Me, it was the same One. He tells him: the One who appeared to the Patriarchs as El Shaddai is the One who now appears to you as Y-H-V-H, and that is really the same thing. To the Patriarchs I was not made known by the name Y-H-V-H—”by My name the Lord I was not known to them”—to them I was known as El Shaddai; to you I have now decided, from this point on, to reveal Myself through the name Y-H-V-H. Some of the commentators want to say that this means—there are commentators who want to say that in Genesis the main revelation was either as Elohim or Shaddai, and there are those who want to say that the phrase here, “as El Shaddai,” means specifically the combination, not as El or as Shaddai, but the combination of the two. But for our purposes right now, that is less important. What is the meaning of this transition? Why in Genesis is Y-H-V-H hardly ever mentioned—other than at the beginning, with that well-known Rashi about the transition from chapter 1 to chapter 2, and that’s it? In practice, usually, almost throughout the whole book, I don’t remember—maybe there’s some one exception or something like that—the name Y-H-V-H. Other than in the creation passage. But here it doesn’t say the book of Genesis; it says, “I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob as El Shaddai”—that means after creation, there is no Y-H-V-H. Almost none. It could be there’s some exception; I didn’t go check again now. Once I did check and I no longer remember what the answer was. So what really is the significance of this difference between revelation as El Shaddai and revelation as Y-H-V-H? Why does that happen in the transition from the book of Genesis to the book of Exodus? In the background of all this, we need to understand what the difference is in the first place. What difference does it make which name is used? A name is, after all, just some arbitrary thing. You decide on some combination, and that’s how you address a certain person. You call him Reuven, Shimon, Levi—it doesn’t matter. You decide on some combination of letters that will be his name, because that marks him, that’s how you can address him. So you stick some name on him. Why should it matter if the Holy One, blessed be He, uses this name or another name? If He invented the name—so what? In other words, why is it significant at all? What is the difference between these names? The name is just an address. You can call it this; there are people who call it a handle, right? A handle to hold onto. A handle—that is, through it you manage to get hold of someone, to address someone. Fine, choose this handle or another handle—what difference does it make? The whole significance of the handle is what it grips, meaning that it points to the particular person it points to. So what difference does it make which handle is used?

Rashi on the first verse in Genesis—that’s the second source you have; this time I didn’t bold the transitions because of speed. So Rashi says: “He created as Elohim, and did not say, ‘He created as the Lord,’ because at first it arose in thought to create it with the attribute of justice. He saw that the world could not endure, so He gave precedence to the attribute of mercy and joined it with the attribute of justice. This is what is written: ‘On the day that the Lord God made earth and heaven.’” Right—He gave precedence to the attribute of mercy, the Lord, before the attribute of justice, Elohim: “On the day that the Lord God made earth and heaven.” There is a parallel Rashi to this elsewhere. In other words, the name Elohim expresses the attribute of justice, and that’s what appears in chapter 1 of Genesis, and the Tetragrammaton expresses the attribute of mercy or kindness, and that appears in chapter 2. That same transition also happens between Genesis and Exodus. The same shift that happens between chapter 1 and chapter 2 in Genesis also happens between the books, between the first book, Genesis, and the second. So let’s try to understand a bit what these names mean. Ultimately our goal is halakhic, but we always start a little by drawing it out from the verses, from the Torah portion.

Ibn Ezra explains the difference between these names. He writes as follows, here in our portion: “For we know that El Shaddai is the honored blessed name, and there is no difference between them. I am the Lord”—the same One who was revealed as El Shaddai in Genesis is the same One who is now revealed as Y-H-V-H. “There is no difference between them. Only that the name Shaddai is a descriptive title, and the honored name is sometimes a proper name and sometimes a descriptive title, as I explained.” In other words, there is some difference in the functional role of these names. The name Elohim is a title; Shaddai is a title—Shaddai, that is, also El and Shaddai—they are titles. And the honored name, Y-H-V-H, is sometimes a proper name and sometimes a title. Meaning, it is the only one that can function as a proper name—Y-H-V-H. Maybe I’ll already say something here about the issue of reference. There are basically two ways of relating to or pointing at objects. You can refer to them by way of a description, and you can refer to them by way of their name. That is, I can refer to someone as, I don’t know, the mayor of Nazareth in such-and-such year—I don’t know who it was, never mind—that points to a particular human being. I can call him Moshe Yankel ben Shimon. That is his name. Those are two different ways of referring to the same person. You can refer to him through some description of him, and you can refer to him through his name, right? Two ways of referring. But the description has to be a central identifying feature—we won’t call him the guy who lives on the third floor. Well, actually, as long as it identifies him uniquely, you can call him whatever you want. The main thing is that it identifies him uniquely, meaning that there isn’t another one like that. Two Joseph ben Shimons in one city—then that can also happen with a name, and then it’s a mess. But in principle, you choose some description that is unique. Okay? Incidentally, it doesn’t always have to be essential. Essential and unique are not necessarily the same thing. So Ibn Ezra is already giving us one more step here: not only do we have two different names referring to the same being, the Holy One, blessed be He, but these two names are also different in character. One of them is, by its essence, a title—Shaddai or Elohim—and the second, he says, is sometimes a title and sometimes a noun; most of the medieval authorities (Rishonim) say that it is the proper name.

Now, here it actually sounds from his words that a title does not have to be unique in principle. Meaning, in principle I can call even other gods “god” as well—”and against all the gods of Egypt I shall execute judgments.” But maybe it’s a familiar linguistic expression and people know it, and I use it only for the specific purpose of the God of Israel. But that is an important point for us, and we’ll come back to it later. There are two ways of using titles. When you want to single out a person or a particular being, you have to use a unique title, otherwise people won’t know whom you mean. In other words, it has to be something unique. But a title by its essence is not unique. When you describe someone, it is always to describe some property, and a property can characterize many people or objects. So in fact a title by its essence is something multiple, not something unique. I’ll say more about that later.

Nachmanides here on the spot brings this Ibn Ezra and says: “And behold, God said to Moses: I appeared to the Patriarchs through My power by which I overturn the constellations, upset the constellations, and help My chosen ones. But by My name Y-H, through which all existence comes to be, I was not known to them, to create for them new things by changing nature. Therefore say to the children of Israel: I am the Lord, and you shall make known to them another time the great name, for through it I act wondrously with them, and they will know that I am the Lord who does all. And all the words of our Rabbi Abraham are correct in this matter, except that he is like one who prophesies and does not know what he prophesies.” In other words, never mind exactly what the disputes are here, probably somewhat connected to esoteric matters. But Nachmanides is really explaining Ibn Ezra’s words, and he says that Y-H-V-H is the name through which all being comes into being. In other words, it is the name through which things are brought into existence, and therefore it is the name of being—Y-H-V-H. And El and Shaddai are not. So now we already have another hint. In other words, Ibn Ezra says one of them is a proper name and the other is a title. Nachmanides adds that Y-H-V-H is the name by which things are brought into being, while the other names apparently are not. The other names do other things: something from something, not something from nothing.

Good—that is a second hint. And El Shaddai is the one that “overturns the constellations,” as we saw. What does it mean to overturn the constellations? It means to change the systems. To overturn the systems of nature means to take existing nature and turn it into something else—that is something from something. As opposed to the name Y-H-V-H, which is to turn something into being, to make it existent—that is something from nothing. That is basically what he means to say here.

After that Nachmanides writes: “And according to the way of truth, the verse comes in its plain and simple meaning. It says: I am the Lord; I appeared to them through the lens of El Shaddai, as in ‘in a vision I make Myself known to him.’ But Me, I am the Lord, I was not known to them, for they did not gaze through the bright lens by which they would know Me, as in ‘whom the Lord knew face to face.’ For the Patriarchs knew the unique name together with Adonai, or Adonai alone.” So here you see that he already says that Abraham also has Y-H-V-H—but it appears together with the name Adonai. Where? At the covenant between the pieces? I don’t remember right now, but that’s what he says. In any case, Adonai alone means Adonai alone, and the name Elohim is Adonai and Y-H-V-H. So what is Nachmanides telling us here? Another distinction between the two names. We’re collecting hints to try to understand their relation. The additional distinction is that the name Y-H-V-H is through a bright lens. And we know that what distinguishes Moses our teacher from the other prophets is that he sees the Holy One, blessed be He, through a bright lens. Whereas El Shaddai and the other names are through a non-bright lens. What does that mean? Usually people explain it to mean seeing directly, immediately, not through some mediation, not through some garment that represents the thing but is not the thing itself. A bright lens is, as it were, seeing the thing itself. What does seeing the thing itself mean regarding the Holy One, blessed be He? Never mind that for now. But whatever can somehow be seen there—that, Moses our teacher saw the thing itself. That is what is called a bright lens.

So again: Y-H-V-H is a proper name, and El Shaddai and Adonai are titles. Another thing: Y-H-V-H brings into being, and the other names are something from something—that is, Y-H-V-H is something from nothing, and the others are something from something. A third thing: bright lens, direct vision, whereas the others are indirect vision. Sorry—what does Nachmanides mean when he says the Patriarchs knew the unique name but it was not made known to them in prophecy? They had many prophecies! No, no—they had prophecies, but not through the unique name. “And by My name the Lord I was not known to them.” What does it mean that My name Y-H-V-H was not known to them? When they saw Me in prophecy, they did not see Me in My manifestation through Y-H-V-H. That name, Y-H-V-H, through that name He was not made known to them in prophecy.

Now the next passage—I’m going back to Ibn Ezra. And here again I won’t read everything, but basically what he says there is: “And know for yourself a little of the secret of El Shaddai. We know that God created three worlds, which I have mentioned. And the lower world receives power from the middle world, each detail according to the upper system. And because the human soul is higher than the middle world, if the soul were wise and recognized the acts of God, whether without an intermediary or through an intermediary, and left the desires of the lower world and separated itself to cleave to the honored name” and so on—then one arrives at the name Y-H-V-H. And in the end he says: “And this is the secret of the whole Torah, as I shall explain. And behold, the Patriarchs did not attain the level of cleaving to the name as Moses did, who knew the name face to face”—that is the bright lens—”therefore Moses could change the nature of the lower world and produce signs and wonders which the Patriarchs could not produce.” What he is basically saying here, if we also want to see the context a little—I didn’t bring everything—is this: there are three worlds that are worlds distinct from divinity. One world, the higher one, is the world of creation. The second world is formation. And the lower world is the world of action. These names—Y-H-V-H is connected to the world of creation, and El and Shaddai belong to the two lower worlds, what are called the lower worlds. Moses our teacher’s apprehension reached the higher world, and therefore the Holy One, blessed be He, was revealed to him as Y-H-V-H, holding onto His throne of glory, as it says in the midrashim. The throne of glory is the upper part of the world of creation. And the Patriarchs did not reach that. The Patriarchs saw the Holy One, blessed be He, only as He appears in the lower worlds.

What is really the relation between these worlds? These three worlds—creation, formation, and action. Here I’ll begin trying a bit to decode this matter. In these three worlds—creation, formation, and action—if we use, say, philosophical language: what is creation? Creation is something from nothing. That is, to create being itself, the entity itself, in a primordial sense. Formation comes from the root form. That is, to shape a form for an existing being. And the world of action is the world in which the entity with form exists as we know it in our world, where we do not know an entity without form or a form without an entity. What we have here is always something joined: form and substance, or matter and form—you can call it this or that. The world of creation is creation, it is the making of being itself, and therefore now we understand that Y-H-V-H, the name that brings into being, belongs to the world of creation, the higher world, because that is the name responsible for the creation of being itself out of nothing, as he says: it brings being into being. The two other worlds are already worlds of something from something. Being exists in the world of creation, and the other worlds make from that primordial thing the creatures we know down here. That is work of something from something. And because of that, with regard to them the names are relevant that are responsible for something from something, for giving form to things, for turning them into something else—but not for creating something from nothing. Basically, these things are connected to the question of matter and form.

Matter and—let’s say we take some particular entity. It has all kinds of properties. It is red, square, tall, short, good-hearted—it doesn’t matter. Every entity has one property or another. If we try theoretically and abstractly to strip it of all its properties, what remains? What remains is the primordial entity, right? The thing that bears all those properties. The properties are not entities. The properties are things that characterize the thing. The thing itself is the thing characterized by the properties. When we want to speak about the thing itself, in the philosophers’ language—that term is also cited by the Maharal—we call it the matter of the thing. The matter of the thing is the thing itself when abstracted from all its properties. The form of the thing is the properties, the things that characterize it, its essence, some might call it. What? Maybe its functions. Its functions. In other words, all the things that characterize the thing are what is called its form.

The worlds of creation, formation, and action work exactly in that order. First of all, you create the primordial entity, the matter of things—that is the world of creation, and therefore it is something from nothing. What is created is not yet a thing that has any form whatsoever; it simply exists. Then after that, one shapes a form for it—that is the world of formation. Incidentally, the world of formation contains the angels, which are separate forms, and therefore it is called the world of formation. I think it parallels what Plato called the world of ideas. Then one shapes a form for the primordial matter, and then the entity comes into being as we know it in the world of action. What? What? Where does the soul fit into all this? How is it not connected? The soul of a person. No, the soul is not connected to the issue. Every single thing, including the soul, has matter and form. Even the soul. Matter not in the sense that it has mass or occupies coordinates in space, but even concepts have matter and form. This division is a logical division. You can apply it to anything. Aristotle already spoke of the difference between the matter and the form of concepts. You can speak about the concept itself, and you can speak about its descriptions, its properties.

Let me maybe give an example. There are arguments about the question: who is a Jew? Okay? Let’s take something topical so we can see that these things have some implications. There is a dispute. One side claims that who is a Jew means someone who is according to the definition of Jewish law—someone born to a Jewish mother or converted according to Jewish law. Someone else will claim: no, a Jew is someone who, I don’t know, is somehow connected to Jewish heritage, I don’t know, a moral person who pays taxes on time. That’s an alternative definition of Jew. It narrows things down. What? The second definition. Both narrow things down. Each narrows different things. Never mind, I’m not getting into that right now—I’m just presenting something, not intending to argue in its favor, obviously.

So there are two definitions here. On the face of it, this argument is a foolish argument. Why is it a foolish argument? Because basically you are talking about different concepts. What difference does it make if you call them by the same word? In other words, let what you mean be called ikomforken, and what I mean I’ll call Jew, and let’s stop fighting. What is there to fight about? Are we fighting over rights to use a word? In what sense are we talking about the same thing? In order for there to be a dispute, aren’t we supposed to be talking about the same thing and disputing it? Right? In other words, if we’re both talking about the same concept—you claim one thing about it, I claim another thing—then we have a dispute. But if you’re talking about someone who pays taxes and all kinds of things, and I’m talking about someone who meets one or another halakhic definition, then you’re already talking about two different things. So why argue? Because we want the same word. It’s just rights to use a word—is that the whole point? No, listen, the dispute could be, for example, over functions like the Law of Return. No, no, no—I’m saying the Law of Return is a consequence. It’s a consequence. It has no meaning in itself. That’s what you say. I think it does have meaning. And not only do I think so—I think everyone involved in such an argument feels that something is really being argued about, both sides by the way. Both sides feel there is a real dispute here. It’s not just a dispute over rights to use a word; that would be really foolish. So someone else can adopt another word for himself—Israeli—and that’s it. What’s the problem? Why fight?

The fact that they keep arguing—some people will attribute it to sentiment or things like that. I think there is something real here, something deeper. And the deeper point is this: when I claimed that the dispute was meaningless, I was assuming that there is nothing in a concept besides the set of its definitions, the set of its properties. Right? So if you define it differently, then you’re simply talking about something else. Right? That was the assumption. But if we feel that there really is a dispute here, then apparently there is something in the concept beyond the definitions. Or let me put it differently: both sides are talking about the same thing itself. They have a dispute about how to define it. And only because of that is it a real dispute. What is this thing itself that they are talking about? It has almost no shared property between the two sides. Fine, there are people who satisfy both definitions—so what? There are also people who are both fat and wear pants. That doesn’t mean fat and pants-wearing are the same thing, right? So in an essential sense there is nothing shared by those two definitions. So what is still shared? Why can I still claim that there is something common here about which we have a dispute?

The answer, it seems to me, is that a concept is not a collection of properties, contrary to what many people think. That view is called conventionalism—that it’s just convention, some agreement. We agree that in language, Jew means someone born to a Jewish mother or converted according to Jewish law. It’s a kind of agreement; that’s how the word is used, now we write it in the dictionary and from now on it can be used. There is nothing in the concept besides the collection of properties that we gathered under it and gave that name to. But if there is a real dispute—and I think all sides feel there is a real dispute beyond the consequences for the Law of Return—that means there is probably a perception that there is something in the concept beyond the properties that characterize it. The concept itself is some kind of being. It exists somewhere—I don’t know—in Plato’s world of ideas. There it exists. Only now, we have a dispute about what its definitions are, what characterizes it. These say the definitions are such-and-such, and those say they are such-and-such. So they argue; one is right and the other is wrong. There is no possibility of compromise—fine, you use one word and I’ll use another—because we are talking about the same entity. We cannot agree on a different word. Just as we would not say that this lectern is merely a collection of being brown, being slanted, having two legs, and being iron—or iron below and wood above. That’s not the lectern; that’s a collection of properties. The lectern is the thing that bears those properties, right? The lectern is the thing all these descriptions describe. But the collection of descriptions is not the lectern. The collection of descriptions is the collection of things that describe the lectern. The lectern itself is what carries those predicates on its back, yes, what is characterized by those predicates. Right? The same applies to concepts. The concept Jew is not someone born to a Jewish mother or converted according to Jewish law. The concept Jew is some thing that exists somewhere—I don’t know—in Plato’s world of ideas. That is where it exists. Only now, we have a dispute about the definitions, about what characterizes it. These say the definitions are such-and-such and those say they are such-and-such. So they argue; one is right and the other is wrong. There is no possibility of compromise—fine, you’ll use one word and I’ll use another—because we are talking about the same entity. We cannot agree on a different word.

If someone says this lectern is beautiful and someone else says this lectern is not beautiful, am I going to tell him: you’re just talking about two different objects, so why argue? You call this beautiful and you call it Moshe. That solves nothing, right? There is a real dispute here; semantics won’t solve anything. So too with concepts, assuming that this dispute is real—and that is my assumption, and I think it is the feeling of anyone involved in these kinds of disputes. That means there is behind the concept some kind of being, some kind of abstract entity, obviously, and the descriptions are descriptions of it. So with both objects and concepts, we can really distinguish these three levels. There is creation: making the thing itself, its very existence, making it existent. Then after that, shaping it, giving it—this is the world of formation. And then what is produced is what we know, meaning the entity plus the form, which is what we know here below.

Where is the simplification of these worlds with respect to the lectern, for example? I got it. Rabbi says that with respect to anything, you can go through three levels: creation, formation, and action. Right. The lectern stripped of all its properties belongs to the world of creation. Lectern-ness is the form without the lectern, right? Lectern-ness belongs to the world of formation. Without the use of—I don’t know—the horseness that Plato called it, yes? The redness, meaning the property when it becomes an entity, not when it clings to an entity as a property—the property itself. Why do I need to create that? Why does it have to be created? It is something that exists in the world, that operates in the world; it has to be created, it has to be made somewhere. The Holy One, blessed be He—what is there in the world of formation? There is form, abstract form without matter. The world of creation is matter without form; the world of formation is form without matter; and the world of action is matter and form joined. When I create, I create angels. Incidentally, angels are separate forms; they are forms without matter. They are in the world of formation; angels are in the world of formation.

I really don’t understand what this is, but with the lectern it seems like something from something. What—the carpenter and the metalworker gathered these things together so there would be somewhere to place the book. Who said it isn’t something from something? Fine, why isn’t it? I don’t understand. It’s not clear to me why we need the world of formation and action. Action—you’re sure that in this world you don’t do creation. Does anyone know how to make something from nothing? Any of us? It doesn’t belong here. But this lectern now, when it is built—or any thing when it is built—is built on three logical levels. There is first of all the lectern as such, before the properties. There is the lectern-ness. And there is the attachment of the lectern-ness onto the lectern, and that is what we know as a lectern. And that is abstraction. Fine—but to understand, it has a point to it. Again, how can you abstract that with respect to this thing? What is there at the level of creation, formation, and action? At the level of creation there is an entity with no properties whatsoever. Can you think of such a thing? I can’t. But an entity as such, the entity before any properties are given, exists somewhere. For us it is abstract; there is no such thing, because there is no such thing in our world. But there is such a thing in that world, the world of creation. There, being is created from nothing. Let’s think about man—is that formation and creation? What is formation? Formation is the form of the lectern, the lectern-ness. It is the idea that was in the mind of the first carpenter who made the first lectern. He didn’t see it. Yes, he took it—he saw it in the world of ideas, yes. That is what existed before he attached it to matter and turned it into a lectern. This doesn’t happen chronologically, necessarily. It is not that first there was an abstract lectern and then a carpenter came and gave it a form. The carpenter does not take abstract lecterns; the carpenter takes pieces of matter and sticks them together and makes a lectern out of them. But now that there already is a lectern, from our standpoint we can divide it into three logical levels.

When the Holy One, blessed be He, created man—how do we… same thing. What was man? Was creating man—what does it say about man? It says, “And He formed the man.” “And He formed the man from dust of the earth”—dust of the earth is his matter. Then He formed him, gave him form, and thus man was born. “And He breathed into his nostrils the breath of life.” Does it also say with regard to man “and He created”? I don’t think so. I don’t remember right now, but I don’t think so. Okay, never mind, let’s move on.

Does the term Adonai fit into these three levels? What is the term Adonai? Adonai is like the name Shaddai, it’s the same—it’s not the name of being. He isn’t mentioned at all—they don’t mention Him at all. We even read it as Adonai. We read in the last Nachmanides before the long Ibn Ezra—in Exodus there is the name of God, “And the Lord said” with the name Adonai. Meaning, in one address he addresses the name Y-H-V-H, and so here he writes Y-H-V-H with Adonai, or Adonai alone. That is what Nachmanides writes here—we read him, the Nachmanides before the long Ibn Ezra.

I’ll maybe bring an example from language of how this is expressed in language. When I talk about a particular entity, I say: this entity is pink, tall, good-hearted. Every sentence I can say about that entity deals with its form. Right? Everything I can say about that entity is really about some property. I say this entity has such-and-such a property, such-and-such a title. You’re talking about matter—the concept of matter appears in two meanings. You can even look in the Hebrew Encyclopedia under the entry matter; it distinguishes exactly between these two meanings. This already begins with Aristotle. I’m speaking in the abstract sense. It’s an interesting entry—Hugo Bergmann wrote it—and it’s worth reading.

In any event, when I speak about a particular entity, everything I say about it will be a statement about its form, about its characteristics. Except maybe for one thing—there may be more—but one thing can clearly be said about the thing itself, not its properties. Any idea? What sentence can I say that is directed at the thing itself, not at one of its properties? Me? No—a sentence. You want to assert something about it—you… that it exists. Right. That it exists. Exactly. In other words, to say that the lectern exists is not a property. To say the lectern exists is a statement about the lectern itself, not about one of its properties. To say that it is tall, brown, slanted—that is all properties. To say that it exists is not to speak about properties, but to speak about it itself. And incidentally, with this distinction you can throw quite a few philosophy books in the trash. There is what is called the ontological proof for the existence of God, and around this question of whether existence is a property or not, almost all the arguments there collapse. Fine, but that is outside our issue right now.

So perhaps I’ll continue one step further and say this: what is the meaning of this distinction in terms of sentence structure? In terms of sentence structure, I return to reference. We have two linguistic functions that we spoke about: one is a name and the other is a property. A name is exactly the form—therefore it came into being—it is exactly the form of addressing the thing itself, the entity abstracted from its properties, the thing itself. When I say that something is brown, tall, prime minister, director, I don’t know, beautiful, or good-hearted, all that is talking about its properties, its forms. I can even single someone out, as I said before, through some property that distinguishes him—say a collection of properties that fits only one person—then I can also refer to him that way, and I know whom I mean. You can point to a person in that way too. But the normal and standard way to point to a person or an entity is simply to call him by name. When I say Moshe, then by that I have addressed him. That is not a statement; it is an address made of a word, not a claim. And when I say Moshe, I have addressed the entity. Right? That is the linguistic way of referring to the thing itself, as opposed to all kinds of properties, which of course refer to the form of the thing, not the thing itself.

How is a sentence constructed? When I say this lectern is brown, or Moshe is good-hearted—what am I really saying? Moshe, this entity whose name is Moshe, one part of his form, one of his characteristics, is that he is good-hearted. That is attaching an element of form to a thing, right? That is a sentence. And linguistically, this is done by attaching a predicate to a subject. The name is usually the subject of the sentence. Okay? So the subject of the sentence is the thing, and we attach form to it. That is generally how an assertion is built in language. Okay? So an assertion in language is an attachment of these two things to each other. Language too is a kind of formation; we attach things to entities.

Good. So maybe now we understand a little better what a name is. Nachmanides, for example, writes—I brought you a source here after that long Ibn Ezra—a Nachmanides at the beginning of Genesis: “The Holy One, blessed be He, created all creatures from absolute nothingness. And in the holy tongue we have no language for bringing being out of nothing except the term ‘bara’—create. Bara means to bring something from nothing. And nothing made under the sun or above comes into being from nothing as an initial beginning—none. There is no such thing under the sun, to turn nothing into something. But He brought out from complete, absolute nothingness a very fine foundation”—notice what he means by under the sun—even the Holy One, blessed be He, cannot do that, as it were. And therefore even the Holy One, blessed be He, when He created the world, once He was already dealing with things under the sun, in Nachmanides’ phrase, then He did not create something from nothing. Rather what? He brought out from complete, absolute nothingness a very fine foundation. It has no substance, but it is a potential that is ready to receive form. That is what is called primordial matter. This is really all from Plato. “And to move from potential to actuality. And this is the first matter, called by the Greeks hyle.” Primordial matter is matter lacking form. Yes—hyle means without form. “And after the hyle He created nothing, but formed and made.” Creation, formation, and action. In other words, primordial matter is the result of creation, and with this primordial matter one forms and makes. “For from it He brought forth everything and clothed forms upon it and arranged them.” Okay? So this is basically what Nachmanides says here. There are some small reservations about this Nachmanides in his commentary on Song of Songs—if you look there in Chavel’s edition, he speaks about it a little.

Nachmanides said that He did not make something from nothing? He did make something from nothing. He made primordial matter from nothing, but it is not being in the full sense of the word as we know it here. It is abstract primordial matter. For you it is abstraction. It is not a thing you can really even imagine—matter without form. But afterward it descended into something we can grasp. Yes, after this primordial matter was given form, it turned into the things we grasp. But initially the Holy One, blessed be He, even the things He created here, He created through a stage in which the matter was primordial. That is the world of creation. Therefore it is called bara—that is the world of creation. Incidentally, tohu va-vohu as well, but that is another topic.

In any case, what this really says—let’s return for a moment to the names and then we’ll move somewhat closer to our main issue. What we saw in the commentators at the beginning is that the name Y-H-V-H belongs to the world of creation, and it is responsible for bringing things into being, making them existent. Right? The other names are names responsible for something from something: taking the thing after it already exists and shaping a form for it or making something else out of it. That belongs to the realm of something from something, and to the lower worlds. Now notice the additional feature we saw there, if you remember: the name Y-H-V-H is a proper name, a name in other words—it is not a description, it is a name. Why? Because we said that a name is the way of addressing the being, the thing abstracted from its properties, the thing itself—not one of the properties. It is not a description; it is a name. It is pointing directly at the thing. Therefore the difference is also that this is a proper name and that is a description. In other words, the name of the Lord is an address to the very essence of the Holy One, blessed be He. Y-H-V-H is the designation—not designation really, the address to His essence, the handle by which one relates to the essence of the Holy One, blessed be He—that is Y-H-V-H. It is the only one among all the divine names that is truly a name. All the other things are descriptions. El, Shaddai, Elohim, Adonai—everything is description. That is what Ibn Ezra said, as we saw before. Why? Because they do not belong to the world of creation; they belong to the two worlds below. What happens in the lower worlds? The lower worlds are form, right? They are the properties. That is something from something from another angle. It is not the world of creation; it is what is done with the being created in the world of creation. So on the linguistic level this is descriptions and that is the thing itself. On the level of being—I don’t know what to call it, I would call it ontological, though I’m not sure that would make it clearer—ontology is the doctrine of being—so the name Y-H-V-H deals with being itself, and the other names deal with properties or with what is done with that being, with manifestations, let’s call it manifestations of the Holy One, blessed be He. In other words, the other names really describe how the Holy One, blessed be He, appears. Y-H-V-H does not describe anything. Y-H-V-H is simply His name, as He is above, even before His properties. That is the way of referring to Him. All the other names are forms. Shaddai—what did he say earlier? It overturns the systems of nature. That is some action He performs; it is a way He appears. All the other names are descriptions of ways in which the Holy One, blessed be He, appears, and therefore they refer, as it were, to His form. And Y-H-V-H refers to His essence; therefore it is called the proper name. There are medieval authorities (Rishonim) who call Y-H-V-H not just a name but the proper name, while the others are names that are not proper names—which in the language we’ve been using now means descriptions.

I hope I’ll get to it, I’ll relate to it at the end. I hope I’ll get there, because I’m a little doubtful. Fine, maybe one more point. You know what? Maybe I’ll say it already now instead of waiting. If so, already now—Rabbi Moshe Cordovero writes, and also the Or HaChayim. Let’s begin with the Or HaChayim on our portion: “And He said ‘I was not known,’” that’s the next source you have, “because the blessed name—His name and He are one, and not like other created beings, which are separate from their names and their names are separate from them. Therefore it would not be correct to say ‘I did not inform them,’ for it says, ‘and by My name the Lord I was not known to them.’” He asks: why doesn’t it say, “I did not make known to them My name”? Why “I was not known to them”? Grammatically that seems wrong. “And by My name the Lord I was not known to them”—why not say, “I did not inform them that My name is Y-H-V-H”? What is this “I was not known to them”? So he says: because the name is the speaker. And therefore one must say “I was not known.” He says: if the name of the Lord, Y-H-V-H, is the essence, the thing itself, the speaker Himself, then “and by My name the Lord I was not known to them”—the name of the Lord is He Himself. “I was not known,” not “I did not inform.” If He had said El Shaddai, then He should have said: El and Shaddai—I did not inform them that this is My name. But Y-H-V-H is My very self. There is no need to inform them who I am. I am Y-H-V-H, the speaker Himself. Exactly what we said before. That too is what Or HaChayim writes.

Now look at Rabbi Moshe Cordovero, one step further: “And the name of the Infinite means that it points to His essence. By way of illustration: just as the name Isaac is a handle for that man”—I said people use a handle—”through which speech takes hold. If we do not relate him by a name, we cannot speak of him, because we do not know him.” How can one refer to a thing apart from its properties? Does anyone know how to say something about it? We have no linguistic way of referring to a thing except through its properties. So what do we do in order to refer to the thing itself? We invent this thing ex nihilo called a name. A name is something from nothing; it is about the essence. Even on the linguistic plane the same thing happens. So we invent this thing, because that is the way of referring to the thing itself. Without it we cannot speak of it. “Thus the Infinite, by means of emanation”—that is the world above creation, formation, and action—”is a handle and a name pointing to His essence, so that we may engage with Him.” In other words, Y-H-V-H is a name that points to His essence.

And now he continues in the next passage: “And the four-letter name and the other names are not like a proper name among human beings, for their names are conventional—meaning, Abraham our father agreed to call his son Isaac for some reason or reasons, but not that the name Isaac applies to some property at all.” A name is not a property, right? A name is a name, and a property is a property. “Nor does his name indicate his essence.” And a name also does not point to his essence. In other words, there is no connection between the name and the essence; it is arbitrary. We attach a word to an object, decide that’s his name; we could just as well have decided on another name. “But it is not so with His blessed names, for all of them point to the property of the thing so named.” Y-H-V-H, the proper name—he is also speaking about the other names, and we’ll see that later—this is indeed exceptional. It does not function like an ordinary human name. Here there is a connection between the name and the thing. So much so that sometimes they are even identified with each other. That is what we saw above: “I, the speaker, and by My name the Lord I was not known to them.” The name is basically me. Not only that it refers to my essence—it is me, simply me.

Where do we see this? I’ll maybe already bring an example now. The Rogatchover brings two examples of this. One from Jewish law and one from aggadic literature. The well-known midrash says: “If husband and wife are worthy, the Divine Presence is between them; if they are not worthy, fire consumes them.” Right? So Rashi explains there: the point is that if they are worthy, there is a yod in the man and a heh in the woman, and together that is the divine name. If they are not worthy, then the yod departs from the man and the heh departs from the woman, and what remains is fire. Fire consumes them. That is how Rashi explains it. So the Rogatchover says this: the divine name has no parts. Why? Because the Holy One, blessed be He, also has no parts; He is one and simple, He has no parts. The divine name also has no parts. So once the husband and wife are not worthy, they are separated; they are not joined into one being. So there is a yod in the man and a heh in the woman, but a yod by itself is not half the divine name; it is nothing. There is no half to the divine name. The divine name is not made of parts. The yod from Y-H is not half the divine name; it is just a yod. It has no connection to the divine name at all. The divine name is the combination itself, without any parts. So if they are separate, then the yod sits there and the heh there, and there are not two halves of the divine name outside, one in each of them. There is nothing. The Holy One, blessed be He, is not there. If they are connected, then the yod and the heh join together, and then the Divine Presence is there. The Holy One, blessed be He, is there—because He and His name are one, as we said before. So it goes together.

What do we see from this? That Y-H is the divine name and it has the same properties as the Holy One, blessed be He, Himself. In other words, the divine name is not arbitrary. It reflects the thing designated by it, the thing called by it. Therefore, just as the Holy One, blessed be He, has no parts, so too His name has no parts.

The halakhic example he brings is from the Jerusalem Talmud. Incidentally, I looked for this some time ago and didn’t find it. He brings a Jerusalem Talmud saying that someone who writes shem from Shimon—there is a dispute whether he is liable on the Sabbath. He says: what happens if someone writes two letters from the divine name? The Jerusalem Talmud says that in the case of two letters from the divine name, everyone agrees he is liable. Why is everyone agreed? That is what the Jerusalem Talmud says. So the Rogatchover says: because two letters from the divine name are not two letters from the divine name—they are simply two letters. There are no parts to the divine name. So they are just two letters, and someone who writes two letters is liable. That is if it’s a name that intends, for example, what? If it’s Y-H? If the two letters themselves have some independent meaning, that is another issue; I’m not going into the details now of the sugya of shem from Shimon. This is only to illustrate the basic principle itself. What do we see here again? That the name has the same property as the object it marks. Usually in other cases that doesn’t happen. The name is arbitrary. Meaning, one chooses a name, attaches it to a person, and now he has a name. Sometimes it’s not exactly like that. For example, in Isaac’s case, the very example he brings here—because Sarah laughed, he is called Isaac. Fine. But that is some anecdote; it is not something that necessarily describes Isaac’s essence. Many times in Maimonides’ writings they speak about there being meaning beyond the words… So here too, one of the books says not so, in any event. Independently of that question, the first man named things, right? So there is an explanation that he gave them names by their properties. Fine, people say that in many contexts. In the logical function it is certainly not so. The logical function is arbitrary.

Fine. Up to this point these are introductions—in this the human being differs from the angels, in the ability to name. What? I didn’t say he doesn’t, but I said it operates on another plane. On the logical plane there is no connection between a name and the thing itself. You say: fine, maybe there is some holy spirit by which we manage to hit the mark, unconsciously. Could be. That’s Rabbi Moshe Cordovero, and it’s surely known, and all that—the superiority of man in naming. Okay, fine. But at the end of the day, what a person does is arbitrary attachment. The fact that later he succeeds—after all, you also change names—meaning, the function of the name doesn’t require that. It could be. The philosophers give an example in this context: there is a city called Dartmouth. Dartmouth means the mouth of the River Dart—Dart-mouth. But that doesn’t mean it is a description. It is a name. The fact that it is located at the mouth of the River Dart was only the motivation for choosing that name. But now if the river dries up, or they move elsewhere, or the river shifts its course, will they stop calling it Dartmouth? No. Why not? Because that thing is not meant to be a description; it is meant to be a name. Sometimes there is some reason why one chooses the name, but the logical function of the name still remains arbitrary. In other words, that doesn’t change its function; it doesn’t turn into a description because of that. What? If so, with things, that wasn’t man’s advantage… It could be. Again, it depends on what plane you are speaking on. The advantage of man may be that on some unconscious level. On the conscious level, it is certainly arbitrary attachment. You say on the unconscious level there is some holy spirit that somehow does hit on something—okay. I am talking on the conscious level. On the conscious and simple level, name and description are two different things. Name is arbitrary and description—even we saw that the name was set because of some event. Fine, it was set because of an event, but it does not come to mark the event. If you say that it marks—doesn’t it come to mark the essence of the name? Maybe it comes to mark the essence of the name, but how does that connect to the event? The event gave them some idea. In language—I say again, on our level—and then afterward, if holy spirit happened to hit the mark without them noticing, maybe. We are not dealing with that. I’m dealing with the conscious plane.

Incidentally, regarding Isaac, it’s not because Sarah—the Holy One, blessed be He, calls him Isaac. So what? He says, behold your wife will bear a son and you shall call his name Isaac; the Holy One, blessed be He, calls him Isaac. Even better. Therefore there there is a connection, because the Holy One, blessed be He, knows how to find a connection. And we are performing an action that is arbitrary.

Fine. I’m barely going to have time. I still want to get at least a little into Jewish law, because that was really supposed to be the main point, but I won’t manage to get there fully. There are major contradictions in these issues of the divine names. The only one, of course, where you can check this from every angle is Maimonides, because Maimonides ruled on the whole of the Torah. Therefore people are always busy with Maimonides. Why are there always all the contradictions in Maimonides? Because when you try to look for what Rashba says on every sugya, who said he said anything on the second sugya? You can never be sure. With Maimonides you’re on safe ground.

So Maimonides says as follows—or before Maimonides, the Mishnah: “I adjure you,” “I command you”—that is, the divine names function in Jewish law in several contexts. In one context, the divine names function for an oath: one has to swear by the name of God in order to become liable. There is writing Torah scrolls, tefillin, and mezuzot, the laws of writing the names, mentioning the divine name in vain, “you shall not do so to the Lord your God,” erasing the name, the blasphemer, one who curses—there too it has to be done by means of a name, meaning cursing another person, father and mother, a prince, a judge, a king, God. In other words, there are many kinds of curses forbidden in Jewish law. In Maimonides, in each of those contexts there are sugyot that deal with them and Maimonides rules on them in Jewish law, and there are various contradictions among what emerges in all the sugyot. I may—I may skip all the discussion of the sugyot because otherwise we’ll get stuck on the first one. What we’ll do is simply look at Maimonides.

Look for a moment at the Laws of the Foundations of the Torah there, in the source after the Gemara. After the Gemara appears Maimonides: “Anyone who destroys one of the holy and pure names by which the Holy One, blessed be He, is called receives lashes by Torah law. For concerning idolatry it says: ‘You shall destroy their name from that place’; and ‘you shall not do so to the Lord your God.’ To cut off, to burn, to tear. And there are seven names: the name written yod-heh-vav-heh, and that is the explicit name; or the one written Adonai; and El, Eloah, Elohim, Elohei, Shaddai, and Tzevaot. Anyone who erases even one letter of these seven receives lashes. The other appellations by which the Holy One, blessed be He, is praised, such as gracious and merciful, great, mighty, awesome, faithful, jealous, and strong, and the like, are like the rest of sacred writings and may be erased.” What are called in Jewish law erasable names and non-erasable names—that basic definition regarding names really derives from the prohibition against erasing the name, “you shall not do so to the Lord your God.” The question is: to what does that apply? It applies only to these seven names that Maimonides brings here. These are called non-erasable names. There are some variant texts—some say there are ten, seven; it doesn’t matter right now. These are the non-erasable names. All the other appellations by which the Holy One, blessed be He, is praised—those are erasable names. Okay? Those are what are called erasable names.

What is the difference? We already see here: these are names and these are appellations. What is the difference between names and appellations? In the simple sense, names are names and appellations are descriptions. I call Him mighty, merciful, gracious—what are these things? They are His properties. What are called the non-erasable names are His names, not His descriptions or His properties. But if you notice, there are three categories here. There is one name: yod-heh-vav-heh, and Maimonides says that is the explicit name. It is indeed one of the seven non-erasable names, but it constitutes a category by itself. The other six names are non-erasable names, but they are not the explicit name. Remember the non-bright lens? They are not explicit. They do not touch the thing itself directly, but through its properties, indirectly—a non-bright lens. The explicit name is the bright lens—it goes straight to Him. The name that addresses Him directly. But all of these are still names that may not be erased. After that there are appellations: mighty, awesome, all kinds of appellations of that sort. Here I no longer changed anything. I said Shaddai, I said Elohim, but mighty and awesome I don’t say in some substitute form. In other words, there is no need to alter them; there is no problem saying such things plainly. And why? Because these are appellations. So what if they are appellations? Appellations are descriptions. When I describe the Holy One, blessed be He, all these descriptions can also apply to other people. Also to other things. In other words, you can say of a person that he is merciful. You can say of a person that he is mighty. You can say of a person all of what are called here appellations—faithful, jealous, strong. All these are descriptions that can also be said about a person. It is not unique to the Holy One, blessed be He. They are words in the language that I use to describe the Holy One, blessed be He. They describe Him, but they are not unique to Him. And because of that, they really have no sanctity. They do not describe Him Himself.

Within the names, there are already two categories. Both… he really does distinguish among these three categories. This goes through a lot of contradictions that I solve this way, but I can’t get into them. If you want, I can let you read later what I wrote up in an orderly way. There are really three such categories. Maimonides calls this names. There are two parameters that distinguish among the names: whether they are derived or not derived, and whether they are inclusive or not inclusive. Inclusive names are what we earlier called descriptions. In other words, inclusive names mean a description that includes not only the Holy One, blessed be He, but a whole group. When you say merciful, not only the Holy One, blessed be He, fits that description; there are other entities that fit that description as well. Therefore it is called an inclusive appellation. There is also what is called derived. Derived means it has meaning; it is derived from some meaning. Y-H-V-H has no meaning at all; it is not derived. What is the meaning of the word Y-H-V-H? It has no meaning. It is the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, that’s all. Right? Whereas Shaddai has meaning: overturning the systems of nature, all that they explained there. Eloah—what is that? That too: great, strong, possessor of powers. It is something that has meaning, right? So there are six non-erasable names besides the Tetragrammaton. Those six names are derived names but not inclusive. That is Maimonides’ definition: derived but not inclusive. What does that mean? In a certain sense they are actually appellations, descriptions, but descriptions unique only to the Holy One, blessed be He. And the explicit name is neither derived nor inclusive. The word has no meaning and includes no one besides the Holy One, blessed be He. It is simply the name of the Holy One, blessed be He. That is called the proper name or the explicit name. The other six names are derived but not inclusive. Appellations are things that are both derived and inclusive. For example, merciful—merciful has meaning, someone who has mercy, and it applies not only to the Holy One, blessed be He, but to other people as well. So they are both inclusive and derived, and therefore they are erasable names; one may erase them.

And regarding an oath, Maimonides writes that one does not need the explicit name; an appellation suffices. Unlike with erasing a name, where an appellation is erasable, for an oath an appellation also works. Now, when you look there, you see that when he says appellation, he means derived but not inclusive—that is, the six names other than Y-H-V-H. And what is the significance of that? Why in an oath do you need specifically those names, specifically a name but not something inclusive? Because in an oath I use it in order to create something, to create the legal effect of an oath. So I need to use, as it were, the Holy One, blessed be He, Himself. Whereas in a curse, it is not like that, because in a curse I refer to the Holy One, blessed be He; I do not use Him. So every time I pointed at the Holy One, blessed be He, in a way that clearly meant Him—that is a curse. Therefore regarding a curse, Maimonides rules differently. Why? Because the whole question is what one does with this function called a name. Sometimes the name is meant to use the Holy One, blessed be He, so then you need to grasp Him Himself. You need the proper name, maybe also the other names—those are disputes I’m not getting into now. Whereas in a curse, it may be enough just to have a distinguishing description. In other words, it is enough that I mean Him. We are talking about cursing by means of the Holy One, blessed be He, not using His name to curse other things. That too may make a difference. So there it is enough that it is clear I mean Him in order to say that I cursed. In other words, I don’t need to address the essence itself; it is enough that I single Him out. There are also various halakhic implications, but unfortunately I won’t have time to get into them, so we’ll stop here. On the way out I can let you read it. I think his words appear in writing somewhere. Yes. Which? In Midah Tovah. On which portion? This one. You can take it if you want. Take it? Please. I’m not getting the request they passed on to me from the side. You didn’t get it? No. So I need to check them, I asked, yes. I’ll send you mine this week, but this is it. Wait, how many pages are there here? Like this, like this, everything—these are all the pages. Wait, if it appears in Midah Tovah anyway, then I’ll read it in Midah Tovah. Yes. Okay. Then it’s a shame to waste paper in the world.