By Rabbi David Evan Markus
Shemot 5785 (2025)
In 2020, artist Alicia Eggert created a public art installation called The Time for Becoming. Neon red letters flashed "Now is only for the time being," then the letters suddenly switched to "Now is always the time for becoming." The words switched back and forth – first one, then the other – on an infinite loop.
I can't prove it, but I imagine that she read this week's Torah portion.
The Book of Exodus opens with this Torah portion named for "Names" (Shemot), starting with the tribal names of the Children of Israel thriving in Egypt. They thrived abundantly that a new Pharaoh, who "arose and knew not Joseph," feared their numbers as a threat. To protect his power, Pharaoh spread xenophobic fears of them and enslaved them in brutal bondage at mortar and brick (Exodus 1:7-11). Even so, our ancestors survived and bore children. Pharaoh ordered Israelite midwives to kill the baby boys. The midwives defied Pharaoh, who instead ordered all baby boys thrown into the Nile (Exodus 1:12-21).
To save his life, a baby Levite boy was floated downriver in a basket. Pharaoh's daughter found him, named him Moses, and raised him as a most unlikely Prince of Egypt. Eventually Moses learned his truth, killed an overseer beating an Israelite slave, and fled to a new life tending sheep in the desert (Exodus 2:3-15).
A bush burned but was not consumed. Moses turned to see, and hear (Exodus 3:1-4).
The world hasn't been the same since.
Moses heard God, and a promise of liberation, and a sacred deployment to become part of the liberation. Moses even heard God give a name for the Children of Israel to use for God.
The name Moses heard wasn't Redeemer or Liberator. It wasn't our familiar Adonai (literally, "my Lord"), or YHVH (the Tetragrammaton), or El Shaddai (an ancient name for a God of power), or the Merciful Compassionate One (much as Islam's بِسْمِ ٱللَّٰهِ ٱلرَّحْمَٰنِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ / bi-smi llaahi r-raHmaani r-raHiim, In the Name of God, the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate). It wasn't Heavenly Parent, or Creator, or Source, or Healer, or Lover.
It was, simply אהיה אשר אהיה / Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh, literally "I Will Be What I Will Be." God told Moses to tell the people "I Will Be" sent Moses to free them (Exodus 3:14).
The name Moses heard was becomingness – futurity Itself. The power of becoming promised Moses and the Children of Israel a future, and one far better than present circumstances. They needed that name for relationship, expectations and hope.
The name we most often use – the Tetragrammaton (YHVH), pronounced Adonai – is related but different. YHVH is an anagram for the Hebrew verb "to be" in all conjugations – was, is and will be. Put another way, YHVH is timelessness – an eternal now in which past, present and future merge – a singularity, true Oneness.
Or in the words of our neon light artist Alicia Eggert, YHVH is "Now, for the time being," while Ehyeh is "Now is always the time for becoming."
The Bible invokes countless divine names, each reflecting our people's needs in particular times and contexts. Our enslaved ancestors needed a future, a promise of becoming; through Moses, they received a name for that divine fractal. Our escaping ancestors needed a champion to defeat Pharaoh's army chasing them to the Sea; they had a name for that fractal ("Warrior"). They needed a healer, and got one ("Healer"). They needed a guide and got one ("Parent"). They needed an object of reverence, and got one ("Holy"). They needed an object of awe, and got one ("Creator"). They needed an organic partner of emotion, and got one ("Lover"). They needed a projection of totality to lift above the world's brokenness, and got one (literally, "One").
And where the Bible ended, Jewish tradition kept adding names – the Sovereign, the Spirit, the Merciful, the Compassionate, the Fount of Blessing, the Source, the Refiner, the Commander, the Hope, the Mikveh, the Comforter, the Place, the Supernal, the Radiant. Each name reflects a context, a human yearning for relationship, a fractal, and a confession that truly no name can do "God" justice.
Maybe for you "God" aptly invokes all of these partzufim (fractals) of the sacred. Or maybe for you the word "God" is loaded with beliefs that don't land. But Jewishly speaking, the word "God" is just a word – and never a name. Judaism has no one name for the One we feebly call God. Instead, the One is infinite fractals ultimately united and uniting in Oneness.
Jewish tradition, starting with Torah and Moses' experience at the burning bush, gives us sacred permission to find the name(s) we need to speak the unspeakable. So find yours. Find the Name of Being, Becoming, Defending, Liberating, Healing, Commanding, Parenting, Holy-ing, Loving, Creating, Cajoling, One-ing. Find your fractal of eternity – the ever-present, the radical now, manifesting as awe, wonder, love, ethics, rightness, righteousness, identity, peoplehood, planet, universe.
Now always is the time for becoming – for the One, and for each of us.
Shemot 5785 (2025)
In 2020, artist Alicia Eggert created a public art installation called The Time for Becoming. Neon red letters flashed "Now is only for the time being," then the letters suddenly switched to "Now is always the time for becoming." The words switched back and forth – first one, then the other – on an infinite loop.
I can't prove it, but I imagine that she read this week's Torah portion.
The Book of Exodus opens with this Torah portion named for "Names" (Shemot), starting with the tribal names of the Children of Israel thriving in Egypt. They thrived abundantly that a new Pharaoh, who "arose and knew not Joseph," feared their numbers as a threat. To protect his power, Pharaoh spread xenophobic fears of them and enslaved them in brutal bondage at mortar and brick (Exodus 1:7-11). Even so, our ancestors survived and bore children. Pharaoh ordered Israelite midwives to kill the baby boys. The midwives defied Pharaoh, who instead ordered all baby boys thrown into the Nile (Exodus 1:12-21).
To save his life, a baby Levite boy was floated downriver in a basket. Pharaoh's daughter found him, named him Moses, and raised him as a most unlikely Prince of Egypt. Eventually Moses learned his truth, killed an overseer beating an Israelite slave, and fled to a new life tending sheep in the desert (Exodus 2:3-15).
A bush burned but was not consumed. Moses turned to see, and hear (Exodus 3:1-4).
The world hasn't been the same since.
Moses heard God, and a promise of liberation, and a sacred deployment to become part of the liberation. Moses even heard God give a name for the Children of Israel to use for God.
The name Moses heard wasn't Redeemer or Liberator. It wasn't our familiar Adonai (literally, "my Lord"), or YHVH (the Tetragrammaton), or El Shaddai (an ancient name for a God of power), or the Merciful Compassionate One (much as Islam's بِسْمِ ٱللَّٰهِ ٱلرَّحْمَٰنِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ / bi-smi llaahi r-raHmaani r-raHiim, In the Name of God, the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate). It wasn't Heavenly Parent, or Creator, or Source, or Healer, or Lover.
It was, simply אהיה אשר אהיה / Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh, literally "I Will Be What I Will Be." God told Moses to tell the people "I Will Be" sent Moses to free them (Exodus 3:14).
The name Moses heard was becomingness – futurity Itself. The power of becoming promised Moses and the Children of Israel a future, and one far better than present circumstances. They needed that name for relationship, expectations and hope.
The name we most often use – the Tetragrammaton (YHVH), pronounced Adonai – is related but different. YHVH is an anagram for the Hebrew verb "to be" in all conjugations – was, is and will be. Put another way, YHVH is timelessness – an eternal now in which past, present and future merge – a singularity, true Oneness.
Or in the words of our neon light artist Alicia Eggert, YHVH is "Now, for the time being," while Ehyeh is "Now is always the time for becoming."
The Bible invokes countless divine names, each reflecting our people's needs in particular times and contexts. Our enslaved ancestors needed a future, a promise of becoming; through Moses, they received a name for that divine fractal. Our escaping ancestors needed a champion to defeat Pharaoh's army chasing them to the Sea; they had a name for that fractal ("Warrior"). They needed a healer, and got one ("Healer"). They needed a guide and got one ("Parent"). They needed an object of reverence, and got one ("Holy"). They needed an object of awe, and got one ("Creator"). They needed an organic partner of emotion, and got one ("Lover"). They needed a projection of totality to lift above the world's brokenness, and got one (literally, "One").
And where the Bible ended, Jewish tradition kept adding names – the Sovereign, the Spirit, the Merciful, the Compassionate, the Fount of Blessing, the Source, the Refiner, the Commander, the Hope, the Mikveh, the Comforter, the Place, the Supernal, the Radiant. Each name reflects a context, a human yearning for relationship, a fractal, and a confession that truly no name can do "God" justice.
Maybe for you "God" aptly invokes all of these partzufim (fractals) of the sacred. Or maybe for you the word "God" is loaded with beliefs that don't land. But Jewishly speaking, the word "God" is just a word – and never a name. Judaism has no one name for the One we feebly call God. Instead, the One is infinite fractals ultimately united and uniting in Oneness.
Jewish tradition, starting with Torah and Moses' experience at the burning bush, gives us sacred permission to find the name(s) we need to speak the unspeakable. So find yours. Find the Name of Being, Becoming, Defending, Liberating, Healing, Commanding, Parenting, Holy-ing, Loving, Creating, Cajoling, One-ing. Find your fractal of eternity – the ever-present, the radical now, manifesting as awe, wonder, love, ethics, rightness, righteousness, identity, peoplehood, planet, universe.
Now always is the time for becoming – for the One, and for each of us.