Lessons from Ein Yaakov: Nakdimon Supplies Water to the Olei Regel Pilgrims
by Rabbi Chanoch Gevhard
Shema YisroelIt was a drought. The Jews went up to Yerushalayim for the Sholosh Regolim, but they had no water to drink. Nakdimon ben Gurion, a wealthy man, saw this and went to the Roman governor who owned water cisterns and said to him, "Lend me twelve of your water cisterns so that I can give them to the pilgrims. I will return all the twelve cisterns of water and if I cannot, I will give you twelve large silver bars."
The silver was worth much more than the water. In fact, it was enough to pay for porters to transport that much water from afar and even have a great deal left over!
The two made up a date by which Nakdimon would have to replenish the cisterns — or pay the debt.
This governor had not dug those cisterns, but had seized them from Jews. He ruled the Jews and he was really responsible for the welfare of the people, but instead, he used the water to luxuriate in baths, while the people were parched for water to drink.
The date arrived, but no rains had yet fallen. That morning, the governor sent a messenger to remind Nakdimon to pay, since it hadn't rained and the basins were dry.
"The day is not yet over," replied Nakdimon. "I still have time."
He sent a messenger again in the afternoon, and received the same reply. The sun was leaning westward when he sent a third reminder, this time demanding, "Send me my money!"
"It's not dark yet," said Nakdimon.
The governor mocked him, saying, "No rain has fallen all year long and now you expect some to fall?"
He entered the public bathhouse in a joyous mood, confident that he would soon be receiving his money.
At the same time, Nakdimon went off to the Beis Hamikdosh.
The governor, it seems, gave the water to Nakdimon on loan and did not ask for payment at the outset. It is possible that he was not an evil man at all and that he really was touched by the plight of the olei regel. But it is more logical to assume that he felt that if rain hadn't fallen all winter long, it would surely not fall after Pesach. And so, when he made the agreement with Nakdimon he was almost certain that he would be paid with the money, and not the water.
Perhaps this is why, to begin with, he did not want to sell the water, but wished to appear magnanimous and concerned for the welfare of the thirsty travelers and let them drink their fill for free, knowing that Nakdimon would have to refill the cisterns anyway. When rain did not fall, he realized that he could become very wealthy from the arrangement, far more than if he had sold the water.
The due date arrives and the governor sends a messenger to demand payment. "Give me water or silver," he says.
He does not reveal his greedy heart. He speaks civilly and asks for water, but "if you can't provide water, then give me money." He did not say what he was really thinking — that he wanted the money.
Nakdimon was staunch in his faith in Hashem and even though no rain had fallen since he had struck the bargain with the gentile, still he was not discouraged. Throughout the long day he continued to trust that Hashem would yet save him and fill the cisterns with water.
"Water or money!" demanded the governor again at noon, and then once more in the late afternoon. When Nakdimon still bided his time, the governor scoffed, "How is it possible? No rain has fallen all year and you expect to fill the cisterns yet today, now? With no sign of impending rain?"