Specifically, in Shemot Rabbah 48, we find a fascinating exploration of the power of a good name.
The passage begins with Moses announcing Betzalel's appointment to oversee the construction of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle. "See, the Lord has called by name Betzalel, son of Uri, son of Ḥur, of the tribe of Judah. He filled him with the spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge, and with all craftsmanship” (Exodus 35:30–31). The text highlights that God called him "by name." Why is this significant?
The text then quotes Ecclesiastes 7:1: “A good name is better than fragrant oil, [and the day of death than the day of one’s birth].” Think about that for a moment. Better than fragrant oil? That's quite a claim. How far does the scent of oil travel? The text tells us, "It is from the inner chamber to the central hall." A pleasant, but limited reach. But, according to the text, a good name "travels from one end of the world to the other, as it is stated: “David’s name spread to all the lands” (I Chronicles 14:17)." It's about impact and legacy.
The comparison continues. Fragrant oil, the text says, "falls on a corpse and putrefies," referencing Ecclesiastes 10:1. It's fleeting, susceptible to decay. But a good name? "A good name rests on a corpse, and does not putrefy." The text uses the story of Elisha (II Kings 4:34) to illustrate. Elisha's reputation and spiritual power were so strong that even after his death, they could bring a child back to life. It's a powerful image of the enduring nature of a good name.
What about that second part of the verse: "the day of death [is better] than the day of one’s birth?" Seems a bit morbid, doesn't it? Why would the day of death be better? Shemot Rabbah explains that on the day of birth, a person's actions are unknown. But on the day of death, their life speaks for itself. "His good reputation informs all those who hear of him as to the nature of his actions."
Rabbi Levi offers a beautiful analogy. Imagine two ships on the Great Sea. One is leaving port, and one is entering. Everyone celebrates the departing ship, full of hope and potential. But Rabbi Levi suggests we should rejoice over the ship returning to port. Why? Because it has weathered the storms, navigated the unknown, and arrived safely. Similarly, when a person is born, we don't know what challenges they will face. But when they die, we can reflect on the life they lived, the impact they had, and the legacy they leave behind. As the commentary from Rabbi David Luria adds, "time that goes by brings him closer to resurrection."
Finally, the text brings in the story of Hananya, Mishael, and Azarya. Their names, their acts of unwavering faith in the face of fiery persecution, were "better than the anointing oil" of Nadav and Avihu. Nadav and Avihu entered the sanctuary and were consumed by divine fire. Hananya, Mishael, and Azarya entered a fiery furnace and emerged unscathed. Their courage, their devotion, echoed far beyond any physical anointing.
So, what's the takeaway? It's not about fleeting pleasures or superficial adornments. It's about the character we build, the actions we take, and the impact we have on the world. It’s about the legacy we leave behind. It’s about striving to create a shem tov, a good name, that will resonate long after we're gone. What kind of name are you building?