They had just arrived in the New World from their home in the Russian shtetle. It was 1887. The young husband took his pregnant wife to the hospital for the delivery. The doctor announced not one but two babies would reborn to her any minute. On hearing this, the soon-to-be-father fainted dead away! As each child came into the world, the father's brother was asked by the authorities to name them.

Looking back on that eventful and unforgettable day several years later, the father could only lament:

"My brother named the kids," he moaned.
"And he is a numbskull and an idiot."
"Well, what did he name the girl?"
"He named her Denise."
"Well, that's not such a bad name. I kind of like it. And what did he name the little boy?"
"De Nephew."

Hence the second book of Torah, Exodus, in Hebrew is called Shemot-"names," because its text begins:

V'ay-leh sh'mot B'nai Yisrael
Ha-bah'eem mitzrayim.

Now these are the names of the
Children of Israel who came into Egypt.

Shakespeare asks, "What's in a name?" And he concludes:

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

We know that in Torah names are descriptive of important attributes and facets of human character. Scripture suggests that names have a mystical power to individuate, a way of fitting people or not fitting people, or perhaps, putting it even more precisely, that some people have a way of growing into good names.

Remember how in Genesis, naming the animals of the field, the birds of the air, and every living being became Adam's first assignment? The bestowal of names was humankind's first independent act. So it is that naming a person can feel like a self-fulfilling prophecy; a beautiful, gracious name will predict a beautiful soul; a strong name suggests endurance and perseverance.

By the way, Jewish tradition forbids us to call people by derogatory nicknames which would embarrass or perhaps discourage another person's full growth and development of their positive talents.

So, as it was with Adam in the Garden of Eden, giving the "right" name to any individual is a wondrous exercise of creative power. I mean, just ask anyone here today who is a parent.

A child was lost in a department store of a large city-every parent and every child's horror-and, of course, he began to cry. A crowd gathered trying to comfort him, telling him not to worry. Finally, the store manager asked the crying child, "What's your name, son?" Writing his story many years later, the boy, now grown, reported:

"Dan Segal," I replied, and with that I stopped crying. Because suddenly I felt good inside. I knew my name, and I could tell it. . . . I knew my name so I wasn't lost any longer. I was somebody, because I knew my name.

Names are also memories, aren't they? Jewish custom preserves the memories of good people-beloved people now gone from life but who were too big or too important to be forgotten. And so we remember them lovingly by attaching their names to the newborn of our own household. It is certainly one of Judaism's methods of immortality.

When we name our children, we give them the names of people of virtue, perpetuating that person's nobility and grandeur of character, and subtly setting out such a path for this little baby who (please God) will grow into his or her name, and make those qualities part of their own character.

Do you know the person for whom you were named? What virtues of theirs do you hope to emulate?

Finally, in Jewish terms, the only real meaningful and ultimate measure of success is the acquisition, the earning of a good name.

Says Mishley, that is, the Book of Proverbs-

A good name is rather to be chosen
than good oil and great riches.

The keter Shemtov-crown of a good name-exceeds
all other crowns, including the keter Torah-
crown of learning, the keter Kehunah- the crown of priesthood,
and keter Malchut-the crown of royalty.

In Midrash Tanhuma we learn:

A person is called by three names;
one which he is called by his father and mother;
one which other people call him;
and one which he acquires for himself.

Each of us has a name given by God and given by our parents.
Each of us has a name given by our stature and our smile and given by what we wear.
Each of us has a name given by the mountains and given by our walls.
Each of us has a name given by the stars and given by our neighbors.
Each of us has a name given by our sins and given by our longing.
Each of us has a name given by our enemies and given by our love.
Each of us has a name given by our celebrations and given by our work.
Each of us has a name given by the seasons and given by our blindness.
Each of us has a name given by the sea and given by how we live our lives.

Yes, we know those precious and sacred names, preserved and treasured in the Torah through the centuries because of their loyalty and due to their faithfulness. May we and our children and our children's children be found worthy of this heritage. May we each, in our own way, be known and praised as a Baal Shem Tov-People of God, blessed with a good name.