It all starts with Jacob, that famous figure from the Book of Genesis. Remember when Jacob wrestles with a mysterious figure all night long? After this epic struggle, Jacob asks his opponent a simple question: "Tell me, please, your name." (Genesis 32:30). And the answer? It's pretty strange. The figure replies, "Why is it that you ask after my name?" And then, instead of answering, he blesses Jacob.

Why the secrecy? What's so special about this being's name?

The rabbis of old, wrestling with these very questions, dug deep into the text. Rav, speaking in the name of Rabbi Yosei bar Dostai, offers a fascinating explanation based on two seemingly contradictory verses. One verse, from Psalms 147:4, says that God "sets a number for the stars, and calls them [all] by shemot"—names (plural). But then another verse, from Isaiah 40:26, says God calls "all of them by beshem"—name (singular).

So, which is it? Does God use one name or many?

The resolution, they suggest, is that things change over time. As the rabbis explain in Bereshit Rabbah, this teaches us that "there is change there." In other words, the name that this being—this angel, perhaps—is called now is unlike the name that he will be called later.

Think about that for a moment. The name isn't fixed. It evolves. It reflects the moment, the circumstance, the very essence of being.

This idea finds further support in the Book of Judges (13:18). Remember the story of Manoah and his wife, who are visited by an angel foretelling the birth of Samson? Manoah, like Jacob, asks the angel his name. And the angel replies, "Why do you ask my name? It is unknown [peli]." Peli, in this context, can mean "hidden" or "wonderful," but the rabbis interpret it a little differently. They say it suggests, "I do not know to what name I will be changed."

So, the angel isn't being coy or secretive. He’s being honest. He doesn't know what his next name will be. The name is tied to a purpose, a mission, and as that evolves, so too does the name.

What does this mean for us? Maybe our names, too, are more fluid than we realize. Maybe we grow into our names, or maybe our names evolve with us. This idea really hits home, doesn't it? Our identities aren't fixed, and perhaps the names we carry are simply reflections of where we are on our journey right now. And who knows what name—what identity—we'll be called by tomorrow?