The Mistake of Gad and Reuben: Choosing Comfort Over Destiny

“Volkswagen, pull over!” barked the traffic officer through his loudspeaker. The car slowed — better said, crept — to the side of the road. Behind the wheel sat an old woman, chuckling cheerfully, while three elderly passengers in the back trembled with fear.

“Don’t you see this is an intercity highway?! Why are you crawling at 20 km/h?” the officer demanded.

“Are you blind?” the old woman shot back. “It clearly says on the sign: 20.”

The officer didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Ma’am, that’s the road number. The legal speed limit here is 90 km/h. And tell me,” he turned to the frightened passengers in the back, “why are you all shaking?”

One of them stammered: “Because… just before this, we were driving on Route 443...”

The Request of Gad and Reuben

Just before the Jewish people entered the Promised Land, the tribes of Gad and Reuben approached Moses with a request:
“We would like to settle in the land of Gilead. It is rich with fertile pastures, and since we have much livestock, this would be the best place for us.”

Moses, however, was angered. His rebuke was sharp and to the point: “How can it be that your brothers will go to war to conquer the Land of Israel, while you sit here comfortably in territory already captured by all of Israel?!” He reminded them of the sins of their forefathers during the forty years in the wilderness and warned them not to repeat the same mistake.

Why was Moses so upset? After all, Gad and Reuben were not asking for extra. They were willing to give up their share in the Land of Israel so that the other tribes would have more space. Why was their request so troubling?

The Root of the Problem

Rabbi Yitzchak Arama, in his classic work Akedat Yitzchak, pinpoints the flaw. When Gad and Reuben asked for the land of Gilead, they said: “Do not bring us over the Jordan.” In other words: We have no need for the Land of Israel. Everything we require is already here.

Rabbi Arama illustrates with a parable: imagine a man hires a contractor to build him a grand house that is well-designed, beautifully finished, and comfortable in every way. Would it make sense for the contractor to buy brand-new iron beams just to make the temporary scaffolding more elegant? Of course not. Scaffolding is only a means to an end, not the goal itself.

So too, the Land of Israel was promised to our forefathers as the eternal home of the Jewish people — a place where the Divine Presence would dwell, where we could serve God fully, without the burden of foreign oppression. The capture of Gilead, however, was merely a side mission, intended only to make the conquest of Israel proper more secure.

However, the tribes of Gad and Reuben lost sight of the goal. After decades in the desert, fed by manna from heaven, taught Torah directly by Moses, and surrounded by constant miracles, they still looked at Gilead as their “final destination,” prioritizing their cattle over the holiness of the Land.

Moses reluctantly agreed to their request only after they promised to lead the vanguard in the battles for the Land of Israel. Yet the Midrash tells us that their choice brought consequences: they were the first tribes to be exiled, long before the rest of Israel was driven from its land.

The Lesson for Us

During the Three Weeks period of mourning for the destruction of the Temple, we reflect on what truly deserves our investment. This world, with all its material attractions, is but scaffolding. It exists to elevate us higher. We need animal hides for tefillin, wine for kiddush and havdalah, and orchards to grow an etrog. All these are means, not ends.

The real “house” is the eternal bond with God and the sanctity of the Land of Israel.