Who are we? It seems like a simple question, but it’s actually quite hard to answer. I’d like to tell you about two people who struggled with exactly this — figuring out who they really were. We read about them at the end of Parshas Masei.
The first is a man named Yair, son of Menashe. In the newly acquired territory on the east bank of the Yarden, Yair went out, conquered territory, and captured villages — in the region known today as the southern Golan Heights. He called this territory Chavos Yair — the villages of Yair.
We then hear about another person, Novach. Novach also went and conquered an area called Kenas and its surrounding cities, and — as the pasuk tells us — he called it Novach, after his own name.
So here are two individuals with the same real estate opportunity: newly conquered territory on the east bank of the Yarden, conquered from the Emorite people. Both conquer villages. Both name them after themselves.
All fascinating — except that Rashi makes a striking comment. He points out that in the word “lah“ (in the phrase describing Novach naming the city after himself), the hei is missing its mapik — a dot in the center of the letter. Normally, a possessive lah would carry that dot. Its absence signals a “soft” possessive — indicating that this was not a lasting acquisition.
And indeed, if you look through the rest of Tanach, Yair and Chavos Yair are mentioned multiple times. But the city of Novach, named for Novach, is never mentioned again. It’s as if his bid for legacy was lost.
Why did Novach fail to achieve longevity and legacy through his villages, while Yair succeeded?
In his commentary on Ma’ayan Beis HaSho’eivah, Rav Shimon Schwab offers a remarkable explanation. He describes a fundamentally different relationship to property in each case. Yair conquered the villages and called them Chavos Yair — the villages of Yair. Yair remained a distinct identity who now owned these villages. Novach, by contrast, conquered his villages and simply called them Novach — not the cities of Novach, not the villages of Novach, but Novach itself. He identified directly with the real estate he’d accumulated, as though that identification would secure his legacy. And yet it never lasted.
Yair’s identity remained separate from his assets — and so his legacy endured. Novach, desperately seeking legacy through his possessions, could never achieve it. Novach faded away; Chavos Yair lasted.
This raises a question relevant to every person who passes through this world. We all amass wealth, buy things, accumulate assets and property — and all of us lose it in the end.This reminds me of the powerful verse in Tehillim (49:18)
כִּי לֹא בְמוֹתוֹ יִקַּח הַכֹּל לֹא־יֵרֵד אַחֲרָיו כְּבוֹדוֹ׃
for when they die they can take none of it along; their goods cannot follow them down.
It’s important to have things — the vehicle and means necessary to live the life we need to live. But that cannot become who we are. The moment it does, the moment “this is who I am” becomes bound up with what we own, that identity is destined to melt away, just like the physical assets themselves.
Picture Credit:
Photo by Atlantic Ambience from Pexels: https://www.pexels.com/photo/wooden-house-moder-keys-and-contract-on-table-12955837/