by Rabbi Avi Billet
Ever since the blessing given to the Tribe of Gad by Yaakov in the middle of Parshat Vaychi, Gad has been considered to be the greatest soldier, and set of soldiers, known to Israel.
So well known is this fact, that every image for Gad that I have ever seen in artwork depicting the tribes always has Gad represented as field-tents or soldiers. No other tribe shares such a distinction.
When the tribes of Reuven and Gad, who traveled together (along with the recently-devastated tribe of Shimon) in the wilderness come to Moshe in Chapter 32 asking to settle in the land conquered from Sichon and Og, their request does not seem that odd. If, after all, they had led the troops in battle against those enemies, they may have been the first to observe and take note of the topography, to determine this land would mean a great economic boom for their tribes.
They list the particular lands and cities they want, explaining that they want to put roots here for “[in] the land that God struck down before the Israelite community is livestock land - and what we have is livestock.'” (32:4)
This is not crazy. They see an opportunity, so they want to capitalize on it. They know it is very close to the Promised Land. And yet, they say, “If you would grant us a favor, let this land be given to us as our permanent property, and do not bring us across the Jordan.” (32:5)
There are different ways to understand their request. Are they saying they don’t want to go across the Jordan at all? Or are they saying they don’t want to shlep their families along? Do they make any mention of what role they intend to play or not play on the coming battlefield? Do they indicate any scorn for the Promised Land? As a matter of fact, these questions are not addressed at all.
Instead, Moshe goes on a 10-verse tirade about how they’re committing the same sin as the spies and the people of that generation who revolted against the Land. Arguably the only legitimate response Moshe has is a fair concern: “Moses said to the descendants of Gad and Reuven, 'Why should your brothers go out and fight while you stay here?’” (32:6)
We can skip to their response in 32:16-19 when they completely ignore all of Moshe’s comments, responding only to the one about serving at the battlefront. “[The Reubenites and Gaddites] approached [Moses] and said, 'We will build enclosures for our sheep here and cities for our children. But we will then arm ourselves and go as an advance guard before the [other] Israelites, [fighting] until we have brought them to their homeland. Because of the area's inhabitants, our children will remain in fortified cities, but we ourselves will not return home until every Israelite has taken possession of his hereditary property. We, however, will not take possession with them on the far side of the Jordan, since our inheritance shall come to us on the Jordan's eastern bank.'”
In other words: “You are right, Moshe. We do not intend to leave our brothers to fight their battles alone. We will be there as well. But we don’t want our families and animals to be waiting in limbo for however long these battles will take. As far as all your concerns of our hate for the Land, on par with those of the spies, we will not even dignify them with a response.”
Was Moshe right or wrong here? Did he discern something that was there, or something that wasn’t there? Were the Reuvenites and Gadites only selfish, or were they practical? Did they denigrate the Land? Were they looking to abandon the rest of the Israelite nation? Or were they always intending to join for the battles, and perhaps they merely neglected to mention such plans?
Perhaps we’ll never know the answers to these questions.
But I wonder how things would have turned out if Moshe had ended his response in 32:6 – asking about their plans to participate in battles – rather than waxing poetic about their hatred-of-the-land on par with that of the spies’?
I like to think the message would have come across, and their clarification, very much to the point, would have also been brief and concise.
This is a flaw we have when we judge people based on either preconceived notions, or if we apply our own experiences to a similar but different circumstance in which we are currently involved.
“I know the score. This happens all the time.” “Every time I’ve seen this, it always ends out the same.” “Anyone who has ever done this has been untrustworthy, or has given up before completing the job. You’ll be no different.”
How do we know? How can we judge people without hearing them out, or without giving them a chance? Just because others have been one way, or have failed, does not mean everyone will. And from another perspective, just because someone has been successful in the past does not mean the person will be the God-send being sought.
Open communication, clarification, and giving people a chance are some of the ingredients that make the thrill of life more navigable for all. Will things be perfect, always? No. And anyone who thinks it will be is at best naïve.
But our life is one lived with others, and we have to do our best to include others, share concerns for ourselves and for others, and do what we can to help others through their struggles, as we hope they will help us through ours’.
And if we can be blessed to not be so judgmental, and not to project our own insecurities on others, maybe we’ll never have to be the people who are the recipients of “I’m not even going to dignify that comment with a response” because we will have selected our words carefully in the first place.
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