Today, we're diving into a fascinating passage from Sifrei Devarim 352, which explores this concept through the story of the tribe of Benjamin and a mysterious plot of land in Jericho.

According to the text, Benjamin was uniquely blessed; he "merited that the Shechinah reside in his portion." That’s quite an honor, right?

Now, after Joshua led the Israelites into Eretz Yisrael, the Land of Israel, and began dividing it among the tribes, he set aside a prime piece of real estate near Jericho. We're talking about a substantial plot: five hundred ells by five hundred ells. And who did he give it to first? The sons of Yonadav ben Rechav.

This is where things get interesting. The text tells us that these descendants of Yonadav ben Rechav enjoyed this land for a whopping 440 years! How do we know? Well, the passage cites 1 Kings 6:1, which mentions that Solomon built the Temple 480 years after the Exodus from Egypt. If you subtract the 40 years the Israelites spent wandering in the desert, you're left with 440 years.

But what happened to them and the land?

The passage continues: "And when the Shechinah reposed in the portion of Benjamin, they arose and vacated it." So, when the Divine Presence came to dwell in Benjamin’s territory, these folks packed up and left. Why? What's the connection?

The text then directs us to Judges 1:16, which speaks of the children of the Kenite, the father-in-law of Moses, ascending from the city of date palms (Jericho). This Kenite is none other than Yithro, also known as Chovav, as referenced in Numbers 10:29.

Now, imagine Moses trying to convince Yithro to join the Israelites. Would Moses really offer Yithro a piece of Eretz Yisrael? That seems...unlikely. Instead, the Sifrei Devarim suggests that when Moses said, "Come with us and we will do good with you," he was actually referring to this choice land in Jericho, which would provide for Yithro's descendants until the Temple was built.

But Yithro famously declined, saying, "I will not go... but I will go to my land and eat the fruits of my land and drink the wine of my vineyard." He foresaw a time when the land would be divided, and perhaps he didn't want to rely on the generosity of others. He preferred to remain independent, tied to his own ancestral land.

So, what's the takeaway here?

This passage from Sifrei Devarim beautifully illustrates the intertwined relationship between land, people, and the Divine Presence. It suggests that even before the Temple stood in Jerusalem, certain locations held a special significance, providing sustenance and a connection to something greater. And it raises questions about what it means to be chosen, to be offered a gift, and to ultimately choose one's own path. It's a potent reminder that even the holiest of places require us to make choices about where we belong and how we connect to the world around us.