2005-05-13-sage's father

By Rabbi Baruch Lederman, Congregation Kehillas Torah, San Diego

“You shall not desecrate My holy Name, I shall be sanctified amidst the children of Israel. I am the L-rd Who sanctifies you, Who took you out of the land of Egypt…” (Lev. 22:32-33)

Hashem (G-d) took us out of Egypt so that we may sanctify His holy Name. When we exert ourselves for Hashem’s honor, He does miraculous things for us as the following true story illustrates:

One day Reb Yitzchok, a winemaker, struggled to earn a meager living. He was walking home after a hard day gathering grapes in the fields of Troyes, France, when he noticed a shiny object on the ground. He picked it up and saw it was a stone. He figured it must be worth at least a few francs. It would make a nice present for his wife Miriam. He always sought ways to make her happy, particularly in light of the sadness in their lives of having no children after years of marriage.

He presented the stone to his wife who said, “Yitzchok, thank you so much; but this looks like a precious stone, not just a trinket. It is probably worth a hundred francs (a lot of money in those days). Let me sell it in town tomorrow. You can buy me another stone for a few francs and we can use the rest to put food on our table.”

She went to the local jeweler and was shocked to discover that the stone was worth a hundred thousand francs! They were now the wealthiest couple in the entire Champagne region of France. In an effort to find a buyer who could afford this stone, they put the word out far and wide.

Before too long, there was a knock on their door. It was a soldier of the emperor himself. The emperor desired just such a stone and was ready to pay top franc for it. Life was looking good.

“The emperor requests that you accompany us to personally hand the jewel over to him and receive your payment. The jewel shall adorn the emperor’s idol, which is missing the jewel from one of its eyes. The emperor is very excited that your exquisite jewel will fit perfectly. We sail tomorrow morning.”

Reb Yitzchok was now filled with fear and trepidation. There was no way he could allow his jewel to be used for idolatry, but you didn’t say no to the emperor – not if you wanted to live.

He spent the night praying and tearfully beseeching Hashem for a way out of his dilemma. The next morning he showed up at the boat. No inspiration had come to him.

After days of sailing, he got an idea. Reb Yitzchok began loudly bragging to all the sailors about the great treasure he was about to bring to the emperor and the great reward he as about to receive. Standing by the side of the ship, he held the jewel high for all to see. Suddenly, the ship rocked and the jewel flung from his hand into the sea where it plummeted down, lost forever.

Reb Yitzchok began wailing hysterically, “My jewel, my jewel. I was going to please the emperor. I was going to be a wealthy man. Woe is me now.” He threw himself down to the floor and began kicking his hands and feet and weeping uncontrollably and inconsolably. The imperial officers looked on at the pathetic scene.

When they arrived, they told the emperor all that had transpired on the boat. Although he could just as easily had him killed, the emperor felt pity for Reb Yitzchok and ordered him to be sent home. Little did anyone suspect that Reb Yizchok had actually staged this entire ‘accident.’

Upon arrival home in France, Reb Yitzchok was approached by an old man at the port who grabbed his arm and said, “You threw your precious jewel to honor Hashem (G-d), by this time next year your wife will give you a son who will be a precious jewel unequaled in all of the world.”

Before Reb Yitzchok could see who the man was, he had disappeared into the crowd. For the rest of his days, Reb Yitzchok was convinced that the old man was none other than Eliyahu Hanavi (Elijah The Prophet); for within a year, a son was born. The boy was named Shlomo and grew up to be Rav Shlomo Yitzchaki, who is still famous to this day; though he is better known by the acronym - Rashi.

Dedicated in honor of the Bar Mitzvah of Joshua Okrent of Seattle by his uncle Steven Moss.