We know him as Moshe Rabbenu, "Moses our Teacher," the one who brought us the Torah. But did you know the story behind his name, the one given to him by Pharaoh's daughter?
According to Legends of the Jews, barely four months old, this tiny baby, still in his mother's arms, was already prophesying! He declared, "In days to come I shall receive the Torah from the flaming torch." Imagine that! A baby foretelling his own sacred mission.
The story goes that when Jochebed, Moses’s mother, finally brought him to the palace after hiding him for two years, Pharaoh's daughter named him Moses. The text explains her reasoning: because she had "drawn" him out of the water. The Hebrew word for "draw out" is connected to his name, Moshe. But there's more to it than that. She also foresaw that he would one day "draw" the children of Israel out of Egypt. A double meaning, a double destiny, woven into a single name.
And here's a fascinating detail: The text says that God Himself only ever called Amram's son by the name given to him by Pharaoh's daughter. That's a powerful statement about the significance of names and the unexpected ways God works.
But what about the princess herself? She wasn't just some passive figure in the story. She defied her own father, rescuing this Hebrew child and raising him as her own. Because of her compassion, God said to her, "Moses was not thy child, yet thou didst treat him as such. For this I will call thee My daughter, though thou art not My daughter." And so, the princess, Pharaoh's daughter, was given the name Bithiah, meaning "the daughter of God." (Legends of the Jews).
Bithiah's story doesn't end there. She later married Caleb, one of the spies sent to scout out the land of Canaan. The text draws a beautiful parallel between them. Just as Bithiah stood against her father’s wicked plans, Caleb stood against the negative counsel of his fellow spies. They were both righteous individuals who chose what was right, even when it was difficult.
And as a reward for rescuing Moses and for her other pious deeds, Bithiah was permitted to enter Paradise alive. (Legends of the Jews). What an incredible image.
So, what can we take away from this? It seems that even in the grand sweep of history, amidst prophecies and divine pronouncements, there’s room for human kindness, for the ripple effect of a single compassionate act. And that a name, given with intention and foresight, can carry the weight of destiny itself. Think about the names you carry, the names you give. What stories do they tell? What destinies do they whisper?