Genesis 19:37, in Targum Pseudo-Jonathan:

"And the elder brought forth a son, and she called his name Moab, because from her father she had conceived. He is the father of the Moabaee unto this day."

The elder daughter's son is named openly and without euphemism. Moab, in Hebrew, splits into me-av — "from father." The name is not a veiled hint. It is a declaration. She is stating, in the very name of her child, exactly what she did and with whom.

The rabbis of the Talmud (Bava Kamma 38b) read this naming as a confession that hardens into a boast, and they tracked the consequences carefully. Moab the man becomes Moab the nation. The nation of Moab would later hire Balaam to curse Israel (Numbers 22–24), would later send Moabite women to seduce Israel at Shittim (Numbers 25), and would be the object of some of the harshest prohibitions in the Torah (Deuteronomy 23:4).

And yet — and this is the mystery that Targum Pseudo-Jonathan and the rabbis never tire of pointing out — from this same Moabite line will come Ruth, the Moabitess. And from Ruth will come King David. And from David, eventually, the Messiah.

The same nation whose origin was the most scandalous story in Genesis will also be the source of Israel's greatest king and the family of the redemption.

The rabbis saw this as a profound theological statement: God works with what history actually produces. No origin is so shameful that redemption cannot route through it. No cave is so dark that a future king cannot eventually emerge from its shadow.

The takeaway: the name you give a scandalous past does not have to become the name of your future. Ruth carried the name Moabitess and still became a matriarch of Israel.