Yaakov Avinu fled the house of Lavan, stealing away in the dead of night. Subterfuge was the only hope he had of escaping. Taking advantage of his father-in-law’s shearing his sheep three-day’s travel away, he created a bit of distance between them.
The reprieve, however, was short-lived.
As soon as Lavan got word that Yaakov had left, he rallied his troops. Together, they pursued Yaakov until finally catching up a week later.
The night before what would be an epic confrontation, Hashem appears to Lavan in a dream. This prophetic vision – in which Hashem warned him not to harm Yaakov – changes the entire plan. The massacre Lavan had planned was now off, transformed into little more than a familial airing of his grievances.
He confronts Yaakov, and relates what he had planned – and that the only reason he was not carrying through was because of the warning he’d gotten the night before. After insisting that he was entirely in the right, Lavan proposes a treaty, each of them committing not to cause harm to the other.
And that’s what they do:
ויקחו אבנים ויעשו גל ויאכלו שם על הגל (לא:מו)
They took stones and created a mound. They ate [together] there near the mound. (31:46)
But what follows is a very curious Passuk, which might escape notice at first. It’s seemingly inconsequential, but after further scrutiny, needs an explanation.
ויקרא לו לבן יגר שהדותא ויעקב קרא לו גלעד.
And Lavan called it ‘Yigar Suhadusa’ and Yaakov called it ‘Galed.’
We know that there is nothing in the Torah which extra – not even a single letter. Of what consequence is this, then? What exactly is going on here? Why is the Torah taking time out to tell us this? So what that Lavan and Yaakov called this place by two different names?
There is actually a Halachic consequence to this Passuk. One opinion on Meseches Sofrim (1:10) assigns this Pasuk a special Halacha no other Pasuk has. The significant difference between Yaakov’s name and Lavan’s is that Yaakov gave it a name in Loshon HaKodesh and Lavan gave it one in Targum – a language other than Loshon HaKodesh – means that you are not allowed to substitute one of these languages for the other.
The Soforno gives us the key to understanding all this with just four simple words.
“Yaakov did not change his language.”
What does this mean, and why is it so important?
Let’s take a step back for a second, and recognize exactly what was going on here. Yaakov had almost escaped by the skin of his teeth. Who was he already traveling with? His traveling party was made up of his wives, his young children and the livestock he’d managed to salvage from his payment.
Lavan, on the other hand, had marshalled an army to take back what he asserted was rightfully his. And, were it not for the warning of Hashem, he certainly would have done so.
Lavan did not kill Yaakov. Instead, he proposed a truce. Which of them had the upper hand in setting the terms of the treaty they wrote? Yaakov was getting everything, Lavan was the one conceding everything. By rightm he did not have to be there.
He made this pretty clear to Yaakov when he proposed the treaty.
ויען לבן ויאמר אל־יעקב הבנות בנתי והבנים בני והצאן צאני וכל אשר־אתה ראה לי־הוא ולבנתי מה־אעשה לאלה היום או לבניהן אשר ילדו
The daughters are my daughters, the children are my children, and the flocks are my flocks; all that you see is mine.
As they set the terms, it was clear they were very favorable for Yaakov. He was walking away with lasting security, and giving up nothing.
As they sat down to break bread together and celebrate the historic and monumental peace deal they’d worked out, what was the first thing Lavan did?
He gave the place a name in a foreign language.
Something innocent, of course. That was, after all, Lavan’s specialty. He was called, after all “Lavan” or “White” – which Rav Yosef Shaul Nathanson explains, was for a reason.
Lavan was such a great fraud that – as good fraudsters often do – he always managed to portray himself as innocent and pure. But as he took pains to appear so innocent, his focus was on what really mattered to him – the בקש לעקור את הכל – to uproot everything unique and special about Yaakov and his mission in this world.
What were the odds Yaakov would make a fuss about the name at that point? He had gained so much by the deal they made – lasting security with regard to Lavan – why would he rock the boat?
But Lavan understood that if he could just get Yaakov to begin using secular vernacular – in any way – he’d have already won.
Yaakov understood this as well. And that is why he refused to submit. It wasn’t as though he made a fuss – he just gave it his own name using Loshon HaKodesh, גלעד.
שלא שנה את לשונו.
Lavan could do whatever he wanted, but he could never make Yaakov compromise his own principles. And so, although Lavan had just given it a name, this effort in making the slightest of inroads into Yaakov’s consciousness fell flat.
What happened next?
ויאמר לבן הגל הזה עד ביני ובינך היום על־כן קרא־שמו גלעד
And Lavan said, “This mound is a witness between you and me this day. That is why it was named Galed.”
Lavan called it Galed.
Not Yigar Suhadusa.
What happened?
The Sforno explains:
Lavan became subservient to Yaakov, and began himself to call it by the name Yaakov himself was calling it by.
This is an important lesson we can all learn from this Passuk. Who would have blamed Yaakov if he would have taking to calling that place by the name Lavan gave it? It wasn’t as though it was itself counter to his belief in Hashem.
I’m sure that if something like that were to happen today there would be people who would be making many of the kinds of arguments we hear often. “How could you disrespect him that way? It’s basic human decency to call it by his name. doing anything else runs counter to the idea of דרכיה דרכי נועם!”
But Yaakov Avinu was not impressed by all these arguments. He just did his thing, what he beleived and knew to be right, without considering all the noise and distractions.
And it worked out.
Though at times it might seem that we would be better off just going along to get along, it simply is not true. We need to concentrate more on holding firm to our eternal values, and less on compromising because it makes tactical sense to do so.
We will find that, when we do so, we always end up in a better place.