Today, let's talk about the descendants of Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law.

You know, Jethro, the Midianite priest who gave Moses refuge and wise counsel. What happened to his family after the Exodus?

Well, legend has it they eventually settled in Palestine. And not just anywhere, but in the lush, fertile lands around Jericho. Imagine that! Jericho, a place synonymous with abundance. According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, this fruitful area was allotted to them as a place to call home.

But how did that happen?

After the Israelites captured Palestine, the tribes made an agreement. They decided that the fertile land at Jericho would belong to whichever tribe ended up having the Temple built on their land. A pretty big prize, right? But the Temple's construction was delayed… and delayed… for a long time. So, they made another decision.

Since Jethro's sons were proselytes – converts to Judaism – and didn't have any other land in the Holy Land, the tribes generously agreed to give them Jericho. It was a way of ensuring they had a place to belong, a stake in the future of Israel. Think about the implications of that act of kindness.

For four hundred and eighty years, Jethro’s descendants thrived in Jericho. Can you picture it? Generation after generation, living off the land, contributing to the community. That's a long time! It’s almost half a millennium of peace, prosperity, and belonging for these converts and their children.

Then, the time finally came. The Temple was erected in Jerusalem, on the land belonging to the tribe of Judah. According to the agreement, Jericho was now rightfully Judah's.

And what happened?

Jethro's descendants, honoring the original agreement, relinquished Jericho to the tribe of Judah. They gave it up as an indemnity, as compensation for the Temple site. It was a gesture of respect, of understanding, and of commitment to the greater good.

Think about that for a moment. They’d lived there for centuries, built their lives, raised their families. And they gave it up willingly.

It's a powerful reminder that sometimes, the greatest acts of faith and generosity come from those who have the least to lose, and the most to gain, from a sense of belonging. It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What are we holding onto that we might be called to relinquish for the sake of community and greater purpose?