Nakdimon ben Gurion’s Deadline

The following story is mentioned in Ta‘anis (19b–20a):

Once it happened when all Israel came up on pilgrimage (oleh regel) to Jerusalem that there was no water available for drinking. Thereupon Nakdimon ben Gurion approached a certain lord and said to him: “Loan me 12 wells of water for the pilgrims, and I will repay you 12 wells of water; and if I do not, I will give you instead 12 talents of silver.” The lord agreed, and they set a date for (re)payment.

(Rashi comments that Nakdimon was very wealthy; the lord was therefore assured of his ability to pay the silver in case of default on the water loan. My brother, Rabbi Yosef Sebrow, figures that the buying power of 12 talents of silver—72,000 silver dinars—would be equivalent to $3.25 million nowadays. This guesstimate is based upon the current price of a loaf of bread, an inexpensive fruit, and the average wage of a day laborer.)

When the time came for repayment and no rain had yet fallen, the lord sent a message to Nakdimon in the morning: “Send me either the water or the money of mine that you have.” Nakdimon replied, “I still have time; all day, in its entirety, is mine.” At midday the lord again sent him a message: “Send me either the water or the money of mine that you have.” Nakdimon replied, “I still have time left today.”

Late in the afternoon, the lord again sent him the message demanding payment of the water or the money. Nakdimon again replied, “I still have time left today.” Thereupon the lord sneeringly said, “The whole year has passed and rain has not fallen; now [in the short time remaining] rain will fall?” Thereupon he repaired in a happy mood to the baths. (The Maharsha explains that his intent was possibly to ridicule Nakdimon and the Jewish people, as if to say, “You don’t even have enough water to drink, and I have plenty—enough even to bathe in.”)

Meanwhile, while the lord had gone gleefully to the baths, Nakdimon entered the Beis HaMikdash sadly. He wrapped himself and stood in prayer: “Master of the Universe! It is revealed and known before You that I have not done this for my honor nor for the honor of my father’s house, but for Your honor have I done this, in order that water be available for the pilgrims.”

Immediately, the sky became overcast with clouds and there was a downpour of rain until the 12 wells were filled with water to a level higher than they were the year before. As the lord came out of the baths, Nakdimon ben Gurion came out from the Beis HaMikdash. The two met, and Nakdimon said to the lord, “Give me the money for the additional water of mine that you have.”

The latter replied, “I know that the Holy One, blessed be He, disturbed the world only for your sake, yet my claim against you for the money still holds, for the sun had already set—the rain that fell is mine [and your debt is still due].” Nakdimon thereupon reentered the Beis HaMikdash, wrapped himself, and stood in prayer: “Master of the Universe! Make it known that You have beloved ones in Your world.”

The clouds then immediately dispersed, and the sun broke through.

After the story, the Gemara reports a b’raiysa: His name was not really Nakdimon; it was Boni. He was called ‘Nakdimon’ because the sun had broken through (nikdera) on his behalf. Nakdimon is grouped with Moshe and Yehoshua as the only three for whom Hashem altered the sun’s natural course through the sky.

The simple understanding of this Gemara is that the sun stood still for a while. (Indeed, some commentators seem to explain it this way.) The Gevuras Ari, however, explains that the sun had in fact set, but Hashem performed a miracle and brought the sun back out (for those scientifically inclined, perhaps it can be said that Hashem rotated the earth backwards to “unset” the sun).

The Maharsha raises the issue of the lord’s insistence on immediate payment. If the loan was not due until sunset, why did he make a demand for payment in the morning?

To shed light on this issue, we should look at a recent legal decision, reported in the New York Post last December.

A New York City ordinance makes every homeowner legally responsible for the cleanliness of the sidewalk in front of his property. It used to be that a person could receive a ticket at any hour of the day if his sidewalk was deemed unclean. A law sponsored in 2004 by City Councilman Simcha Felder (D-Brooklyn) changed that, and the law now permits the Sanitation Department to hand out summonses for dirty sidewalks at residential premises “only during ... two one-hour periods each day...: 8 a.m.–9 a.m., 12 noon–1 p.m.”

On July 19, 2005, a Sanitation Department enforcement officer issued a $100 summons to David Rubin of Boro Park for not removing a Styrofoam plate and cup, a candy wrapper, and a water bottle at the curb in front of his home; the time was exactly 9:00 a.m.

Mr. Rubin argued before an administrative law judge at the Environmental Control Board that tickets can only be written for violations occurring until 9:00 a.m., not exactly at 9:00 a.m. The judge disagreed and upheld the penalty. But Rubin appealed the decision, and the appeals officers agreed with him:

“[The city’s] position that residential routing hours commence at and include 8:00 a.m. ... and end at and include 9:00 a.m. ... would define predetermined periods in excess of one hour each.” In other words, to include the minute of 9:00 a.m. would mean that the enforcement period is 61 minutes, not the “one-hour period” stated in the ordinance. So, in this case, “8 a.m.–9 a.m.” means a time period starting at exactly 8:00 a.m. and ending at, but not including, 9:00 a.m.

This logic is referred to in the Gemara as “ad v’lo ad bichlal.” For instance, R’ Yehudah makes a statement (Berachos 26a) that one is allowed to recite his morning prayers until the fourth hour of the day. The Gemara (26b) questions whether R’ Yehudah meant that one may pray until but not including the fourth hour, or perhaps he meant that one can pray until the end of the fourth hour—“Ad v’ad bichlal o ad v’lo ad bichlal?”

The Maharsha explains that this was the difference of opinion between the lord and Nakdimon ben Gurion. The date for repayment was set. However, was the proper time for payment only up until that day, or inclusive of that day? The lord reasoned that payment should be made before the day in question. Consequently, on the morning of that day, he considered the payment as past due. Nakidimon’s response was that he was entitled to pay his debt any time during the day that was set for repayment. The lord sent a messenger again at noon demanding payment. He reasoned that since they differ in opinion as to the exact terms, they should split the time in question, and compromise on payment by noon. Nakdimon’s response was that he did not need to compromise, because the burden of proof is on the claimant. Consequently, he still had the entire day to repay his debt. At late afternoon, the lord again sent a messenger demanding payment because he deemed it impossible that rain would fall in such a short span after a year-long drought.

As for the fate of Nakdimon ben Gurion, the following Gemara (Kesubos 66b) is apropos: Once Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai was riding on a donkey, leaving the city of Jerusalem, and his students were walking behind him. He saw a young woman who was gathering barleycorns from the dung-droppings left by the animals of Arabs. When this impoverished young woman saw the great sage, she respectfully covered her face with her hair and approached him with a plea, “O rabbi, please sustain me!”

Rabban Yochanan asked her, “My daughter, who are you?” She replied, “I am the daughter of Nakdimon ben Gurion.” The rabbi continued to inquire, “My daughter, the wealth of your father—where has it gone?” She responded, “Rabbi, do they not say this proverb in Jerusalem: ‘The only way to salt [i.e., preserve] money is to give it away? The only way to guarantee that you will keep your money is by giving your money to charity!’” [But Nakdimon ben Gurion did not disburse charity properly and therefore he lost all of his money.] The Talmud concludes: How can anyone say that Nakdimon ben Gurion did not give any charity? Have we not learned: “They would say about Nakdimon ben Gurion that when he walked from his residence to the house of study they would roll out an exquisite silk runner before him and he would allow the poor to walk behind and pick up the expensive material for themselves.” The Gemara offers two answers. One is that he gave tzedakah, but his primary motivation was for his own honor. The second answer is that although he gave an enormous amount of tzedakah, a man of his means was expected to give even more.

The commentators question the first answer. Isn’t charity given for ulterior motives also a mitzvah? They explain that charity given to further a personal agenda is a mitzvah. However, that type of charity does not afford the protection of one’s wealth; only the merit of charity given for the proper reasons has the special fringe benefit of safeguarding one’s assets from loss.

The Maharsha’s commentary on this episode is somewhat enigmatic. He writes, “From here we learn a lesson regarding those people who become wealthy with money that is not justly acquired. These people use their ill-gotten gains to pledge large sums of money during a Mi Shebeirach for their honor and glory. They will not be saved from the punishment of thievery.” The Chasam Sofer wonders where the Maharsha sees this lesson in the aforementioned Gemara. True, the Gemara discusses the giving of charity for the purpose of receiving accolades, but nowhere does it discuss the means by which one attained his affluence.

The Chasam Sofer suggests that perhaps the Maharsha’s source is the Gemara quoted earlier from Ta‘anis. When the sun miraculously reappeared, Nakdimon ben Gurion did not give the lord the 12 talents of silver. Perhaps he should have. True, Hashem miraculously brought the sun back out, but the day was already over, and the money was already past due. Perhaps according to the strict letter of the law, Nakdimon was allowed to keep the money. (Maybe actual nightfall, not sunset, should be the determinant—Iyun Yaakov.) Someone of his stature, though, is expected to act according to the highest levels of honesty and integrity.

The Chasam Sofer explains that the value of the 12 talents of silver was presumably distributed to charity. (As a general rule, righteous people prefer not to have any benefit from miracles.) Since the charity was given for his honor, he was punished by the loss of his wealth. According to this explanation, the Maharsha holds it was the combination of both factors that brought about the demise of Nakdimon’s fortune: He should not have kept the 12 talents of silver, and he distributed these very same funds to tzedakah for his own honor.

Someone who achieves success using less-than-honest methods may momentarily seem to benefit. However, the Maharsha provides a powerful lesson to us regarding what the end results might be. Hashem should help us all achieve a proper and honest parnasah. Good Shabbos.