A Peak into Naming Peaks
As Moses recaps in the book of Deuteronomy the journeys and (mis)adventures of the Israelites in the wilderness, my eye was caught by one of those seemingly uninteresting verses that hold hidden treasure. This verse is just about a prominent mountain range in the north of Israel, which the Israelites call Chermon:
“The Tzidonim call Chermon Siryon, and the Emori call it Snir.” (Devarim 3:9)
Some contemporary commentaries clarify that this large and visible landmark mountain has a name given to it by each group of people living around it. Not at all shocking, but you could go one step further and derive lessons about how different perspectives reveal different names - of mountains, and of people like you. We may have titles, roles, nicknames, and so on, each of which makes sense from one perspective and has less relevance from other perspectives.
But the classical commentaries wanted more meaning from Torah.
Rashi, drawing on earlier rabbinic teachings, thinks the Torah mentions these different names as a way of praising the land of Israel.
And in another passage it states, (Deuteronomy 4:48) “Even unto Mount Sion which is Chermon”. So you see it had four names. And why had they all to be written in Scripture? To tell the praise of the land of Israel: that there were four kingdoms priding themselves in this — one saying, "After me shall it be named", and another saying, "After me shall it be named".
For Rashi, the desire of all these different kingdoms (or more likely the kings themselves) to name a part of Israel after themselves reflected well on the attractiveness of the land.
At the same time, the awareness of all these different names diminishes the power of each name. It reminds us that naming is often arbitrary, and that the essence of a mountain, or pond, or school ultimately eludes any particular name. Perspectives change, names change, the things being named change. Yet the desire to achieve immortality through name, somehow that remains!
“and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
nameless now.” (Mary Oliver, In Blackwater Woods)
Finally, a chassidic teacher noticed that Chermon’s alternative names have the exact same Hebrew letters, and suggested that the two names point to a choice in elevating good or elevating bad in the world. In order to make sense of his reading, we have to make the kabbalistic assumption that the right-hand side is associated with goodness, compassion, etc. and the left-hand side is associated with harshness and lowliness. As a left-handed person, I really don’t like these associations, but I’ll leave that for another week’s discussion.
The Tzidonim refers to those chaotic ones who go from the tzad, only one side, and do not walk the middle path…
They call Chermon Siryon שרין because it is an acronym for שמאל רם ימין נופל, Smol Ram Yamin Nofel, (the left rises and the right falls), because their desire is to humiliate what is holy and be servants who crown themselves sovereign.
But the Emori (related to emor - “say”) are the righteous who always praise the Holy One…and they call it Snyr שניר which means Yamin Ram Smol Nofel, (the right rises and the left falls). (Avraham Yehoshua Heshel, the Apter Rebbe, Ohev Yisrael, Devarim 2:1)
In this clever wordplay of a teaching, the Apter Rebbe suggests that the mountain becomes a symbol for what is elevated in society. When you look to the horizon, do you see the prominence of kindness and compassion, reverence, and justice? Or do you see greed, corruption, selfishness, and cruelty sticking out like a sore thumb?
I’m writing from Camp Kalsman, near the Cascade Mountains, and perhaps you are reading this near a viewpoint of Mt. Rainier, or the Olympics, or if you are outside of the Seattle area, your own majestic mountains abide with their towering calm. Do you know all the names these mountains hold? What new perspectives do we need to see? And how can a glimpse of natural peaks help us elevate our ethical behavior?
Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Jay LeVine
