This week’s perasha, Naso, is the longest perasha when read solo, comprising 176 pesukim. We find several commandments such as Sotah and Nazir, which are lengthy in themselves, but they do not compare to the end of the perasha that lists the twelve nesi’im (princes) who donated the same korban for twelve days. The Torah uses close to eighty pesukim to detail essentially the same event that took place for twelve consecutive days.

If you follow the pesukim closely, you will notice that for most of the days the korbanot were brought, the Torah follows a standard format, introducing each day as follows: “On the [number] day, [name of prince], chieftain of [tribe name], made his offering.” This is actually how days two through twelve begin. However, for day one, the Torah starts the paragraph slightly differently (7:12): “The one who presented his offering on the first day was Nahshon son of Aminadab of the tribe of Judah.” Interestingly, there is no mention that Nahshon was a prince or someone prominent.

Before we can answer why the Torah made that distinction, let us remind ourselves who Nahshon ben Aminadab was. He was Aharon’s brother-in-law for starters. When Aharon married Elisheva, the daughter of Aminadab, the Torah specifically states that she was the “sister of Nahshon” (Shemot 6:23) and the commentaries suggest that before marrying Elisheva, Aharon inquired about Nahshon, and after vetting him, he determined that Elisheva would be a fitting spouse. This already indicates that Nahshon had an impeccable character.

However, what we famously remember Nahshon ben Aminadab for is the moment when B’nei Yisrael were traveling by the Yam Suf with nowhere to go. The Egyptians were chasing them, intending to bring them back to Egypt, and they were seemingly trapped. G-D then instructed Moshe, “Travel” (Shemot 14:15). The order was given to go forward into the sea. The Midrash in Beshalah and the Gemara in Sotah 37a states that when B’nei Yisrael stood facing the sea and the command was given to move forward, each of the tribes hesitated, saying, “We do not want to be the first to jump into the sea.” Nahshon saw what was happening and courageously jumped into the sea. Once the water reached his neck, the sea split and B’nei Yisrael crossed.

From this brief history, we can understand why the Torah changed, or rather started, the passage of the nesi’im differently by leaving out the title of “nasi” from Nahshon’s offering. Simply put, he didn’t need a title. People knew who he was; the nation recognized him. Such a leader needs no introduction. We find a similar concept in the Gemara. There are several famous Amoraim, such as Abaye and Shemuel, whom we refer to simply by their names without the title “Rabbi,” even though they were undoubtedly great rabbis and scholars whose names carried tremendous weight.

Sometimes, we don’t need titles; we just need to show up, do what’s right, and let our actions speak for themselves. By doing so, we can make a lasting impact and earn the recognition and respect of those around us.