Vayikra – The Name of Moshe, Hashem Loved Most

The parsha—and the sefer as a whole—begins with the words:
“And He called to Moshe, and Hashem spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting.”
Several questions immediately stand out:

1. What is the significance of first being called and only then being spoken to?
2. In the Torah scroll, the aleph of “Vayikra” is written small. Why?
3. Why is Hashem’s Name omitted in the opening phrase and only mentioned afterward?

Rashi and Ramban explain that the idea of being called expresses endearment and love. Similarly, the Gemara (Yoma 4b) says that a person should not say anything to another unless he first calls him. Calling someone gently is a middah tovah (virtue) of endearment. The Gemara (Niddah 16b) also says that Hashem despises one who bursts into someone else’s home unannounced, and Meseches Derech Eretz teaches that Hashem stood outside Gan Eden and called for Odom to come near. Calling first reflects respect, affection, and sensitivity.
The Ramban adds another dimension: the fact that Moshe had to be called indicates his hesitation to enter. He was afraid to approach because of the overwhelming holiness and the awe-inspiring presence of Hashem’s glory resting upon the Mishkan. This teaches an important lesson for us as well: one should not enter places of holiness casually, but with awe and reverence.
This hesitation of Moshe may also relate to the small aleph in the word Vayikra. The Baal HaTurim explains that the small aleph reflects Moshe’s humility. He wished to downplay the greatness of his prophecy. Instead of emphasizing that Hashem lovingly called him, Moshe preferred that it appear more like the expression used regarding Bilaam, “Vayikar”—that Hashem merely “happened” upon him. Out of humility, he wanted to minimize the appearance of his closeness to Hashem.
The Midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 1:3) gives another explanation of the phrase “And He called.” It states that Sefer Divrei HaYamim was given for the purpose of exposition. Since many of its narratives already appear earlier in Tanach, its repetitions are meant to teach deeper meanings. In this vein, the Midrash analyzes Divrei HaYamim I (4:18), which lists the children of a certain individual, and expounds that the verse alludes to the ten names of Moshe and their meanings. Among them:

• Yered – descend, because he brought the Torah down to the Jewish people
• Avi Socho – father of vision, for his unmatched level of prophecy
• Avigdor – father of fences, because he established safeguards for the Jewish people
• Chever – one who connects, because he bound the Jewish people to Hashem

As an aside, there is a remarkable Midrash (Bereishis Rabbah 17:4) about the significance of names in general. When Hashem created Odom, the angels asked what was special about him. Hashem answered that his wisdom surpassed theirs, and demonstrated this by asking them to name the animals—they could not, but Odom could. Hashem then asked Odom what his own name was, and he answered Odom, because he was taken from the adamah, the earth. Hashem then asked what His Name should be, and Odom called Him Adokai, Master of all—and Hashem accepted that name.
Returning to Moshe, the Midrash concludes that of all the names he had, the one Hashem chose to use in the Torah was Moshe — the name given to him by Bisyah bas Paro, as it says (Shemos 2:10), “And she called him Moshe.” And because this name was especially beloved, that’s why the Torah in our parsha says, “And He called to Moshe,” which can also be understood as “And He called him Moshe,” using the name that was most precious to Hashem. This also fits beautifully with Rashi and Ramban’s explanation that the word “Vayikra” conveys affection and closeness; the entire opening of the verse thus expresses Hashem’s love and endearment toward Moshe.
But why is the name Moshe, given by Bisyah, the most precious of all?
Several explanations are given.
An earlier Midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 1:2) says that the names given by converts are especially precious, like wine libations on the altar. Bisyah converted, and therefore the name she gave Moshe was uniquely beloved. The Yefes Toar explains that a convert is not judged by his past. He becomes a completely new being. His identity is no longer tied to his biological origins; he is called the child of Avraham and Sarah. The name given in that moment expresses total transformation.
The Sforno explains that the name Moshe, meaning “drawn out,” reflects his future role. Just as Bisyah drew him from the water, Moshe would draw the Jewish people out of their suffering.
(Although the name might sound Egyptian, the Ibn Ezra writes that it was actually the Hebrew equivalent of an Egyptian word meaning “to draw out.” Either Bisyah knew Hebrew, or she asked what the Hebrew term for that action was.)
Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz suggests another reason for the specialness of the name. The uniqueness of the name lies in the mesirus nefesh of Bisyah. She risked her life to save Moshe, and that act of self-sacrifice became embedded in Moshe’s very identity. The name Moshe carries within it the power of mesirus nefesh.
While all the above, helps explain the first two questions, the third still remains:
Why does the verse not say, “And Hashem called to Moshe”?
The Kedushas Levi suggests that the omission hints to a deeper idea: on a certain level, it was not only Hashem calling Moshe, but Moshe’s own inner soul—his inner voice—calling him to come closer to Hashem. A similar idea appears in Shemos 24:1: “And to Moshe He said, go up to the mountain,” where again Hashem’s Name is not mentioned at first. There too, the implication is that Moshe’s own inner striving to rise higher is what propelled him upward.
Our lives revolve around desires and aspirations, and the question is: where do our desires lie? What truly moves us? What “rocks our boats”? For Moshe, it was a deep drive of deveikus to Hashem, and that inner voice of striving is what guided him. And in response to that calling, the verse continues: “and Hashem spoke to him…” From the awakening below comes the response from Above.
Perhaps we can combine this explanation of inner striving with Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz’s insight about the specialness of the name Moshe being associated with mesirus nefesh. The aspiration to come close and the desire to be connected still require the mesirus nefesh of action—of going beyond our comfort zone. Without the willingness to exert ourselves and sacrifice something of ourselves, the drive to be close remains only a noble wish.
This message serves as a perfect segue to the entire parsha of korbanos that follows. What is the definition of the word korban? Although it refers to sacrifices, it literally means coming close. As the Ramban and other commentators explain, the act of bringing an animal and offering it upon the altar symbolizes the subduing of our own animalistic drives, allowing the soul within us to express its longing to connect to Hashem. This is precisely the message embedded in the opening phrase: the mesirus nefesh needed to actualize the inner drive to come close.
May we be inspired—especially in this month of Nissan and as we approach Pesach—to consider the next step in our own journey of growth. Even if that step is difficult, when the yearning to come close is joined with mesirus nefesh, we will merit Hashem once again “speaking” to us from the ultimate Tent of Meeting, the Beis HaMikdash, speedily in our days. Amen.