It can be surprisingly complicated! Today, we're diving deep into a seemingly simple question: Who exactly was Moses' father-in-law? Was it Chovav, or Reuel, or maybe someone else entirely?

The Book of Numbers (Bamidbar) 10:29 says, "And Moses said to Chovav (Yithro) the son of Reuel the Midianite, the father-in-law of Moses." But then, the Book of Exodus (Shemot) 2:18 tells us, "And they came to Reuel, their father..." Wait a minute... Was Chovav the father-in-law, or was it Reuel?

So, what's going on here? The Sifrei Bamidbar, a collection of early rabbinic legal interpretations on the Book of Numbers, wrestles with this very apparent contradiction. How can we reconcile these seemingly conflicting verses?

One explanation offered is that "father" can sometimes refer to a grandfather. The text suggests that young children might have called their father's father "father." Okay, that's one possible solution.

But the discussion doesn't stop there! Rabbi Shimon b. Menassia offers another thought: Perhaps Reuel was his actual name, but he earned the title "the friend (re'a) of God." Remember the verse in Exodus 18:12? "And Aaron and all the elders of Israel came to eat bread with Moses' father-in-law before God."

Then comes Rabbi Dostai, who proposes that his name was Keini, because he separated himself from the provocative deeds of those who provoke God – the kanai. He distanced himself from those who "provoked Me (kinuni) with a no-god," as it says in Deuteronomy 32:21. We even find this idea echoed in Ezekiel 8:3, referencing "the provocative image of provocation (semel hakinah hamekaneh)."

And Rabbi Yossi chimes in, suggesting his name was Keini because he acquired (kanah) Torah for himself. Rabbi Yishmael b. R. Yossi adds that Reuel was his name because he befriended God, drawing a parallel to Proverbs 27:10: "Your Friend and the Friend of your father do not forsake."

Rabbi Shimon b. Yochai offers a simpler solution: he simply had two names – Chovav and Yithro! "Yithro," he explains, because he added a section ("Yithro") to the Torah. Think about it: Exodus 18:21 says, "And (Yithro said) you shall see from all the people men of valor, etc." This refers to Yithro's advice to Moses about appointing judges. Were these things not known to Moses from Sinai, as it says in Exodus 18:23: "If you do this thing and God commands you?" Why did they escape Moses? To credit the thing to Yithro. And "Chovav," because he loved (chivev) the Torah. The text emphasizes that there was no other proselyte who loved the Torah as Yithro did.

And here's where the story gets even more interesting. The Sifrei Bamidbar goes on to trace the lineage of Yithro, highlighting the enduring impact of his love for Torah on his descendants. Just as Yithro loved the Torah, so did his descendants love the Torah, as noted in I Chronicles 2:55: "and the families of scribes who dwelt in Yabetz: Tirathim, Shimathim, Suchathim. (These were the Kenites, etc.")

These names, Tirathim, Shimathim, and Suchathim, aren't just random words. Each one hints at their dedication: * "Tirathim" – because they heard the teruah (a ritual blast from a shofar) from Mount Sinai. Or, because they cried out (mathri'im) and fasted. Or, because they didn't shave themselves. Or, because they sat in the gates (tara) of Jerusalem. * "Shimathim" – because they didn't anoint themselves with oil, mourning the Temple's destruction. * "Suchathim" – because they dwelt in succoth (temporary dwellings).

They even left Jericho to go to Yabetz, to the desert of Judah, to learn Torah from him. This Yabetz was a chassid (a pious person) who prayed for someone to teach, and they were chassidim who entreated God for someone to learn from.

The text continues, drawing parallels to the sons of Yonadav ben Rechav, who, as descendants of Yithro, remained faithful to their ancestor's commitment, refusing to drink wine or build houses, choosing to live in tents instead. Their reward? A promise that there would never be cut off from Yonadav ben Rechav one who stands before God forever.

The passage then broadens, using a fortiori arguments – moving from lesser to greater – to illustrate how God draws near to those who draw near to Him, even those from backgrounds seemingly distant from Israel. It brings in stories like Rachav the Harlot, who hid the spies and whose descendants included eight prophets and, according to some, even Chuldah the prophetess. It mentions the Gibeonites, who deceived Joshua but were ultimately spared. And then there's Ruth the Moabitess, who famously declared, "Your people is my people, and your God is my God" (Ruth 1:16).

The text highlights that even those from nations seemingly excluded ("You shall not come into them, and they shall not come into you," as it says in I Kings 11:2), when they embrace the covenant, are welcomed and blessed.

The Sifrei Bamidbar uses these examples to drive home a powerful point: if God extends such grace to those who were once outsiders, how much more so will He embrace and uplift those Israelites who wholeheartedly follow His will? It's a beautiful and inspiring message about inclusion, redemption, and the transformative power of choosing to draw near to God and Torah.

So, who was Moses' father-in-law? Perhaps he was all these things – Reuel, Chovav, Yithro – a man whose multiple names reflect the multifaceted nature of his relationship with God and the enduring legacy he left on the Jewish people. Ultimately, the story isn't just about names, but about the profound impact of choosing righteousness and embracing the Torah, regardless of one's origins. What names might we earn through our actions?