Long ago there was a kingdom that had been ruled by the same dynasty for more than ten centuries. And it was the custom in this kingdom, each time a new ruler was crowned, to bring forth the royal mantle— the very mantle which had been used when the first king was crowned. Now this mantle had been woven of the finest silk, and had been dyed a shade of blue that was unique, for nowhere else was that color to be found. And when it was wrapped around the shoulders of each new king, the people clapped and cheered for their new ruler.
It came to pass that the old king decided to step down from the throne to allow his son, the prince, to be crowned in his place. Preparations for the lavish ceremony were begun a year in advance, and it was then that a servant was sent to fetch the royal mantle from the golden chest where it had lain for forty years.
But when the chest was unlocked, the servant discovered to his horror that the royal mantle had been devoured by moths, and that all that remained of it were rags.
When the old king heard about this, he began to tremble with fear, for the mantle was the symbol of the dynasty, and if another were used, the seal of authority of the king could be endangered. Therefore the king called in his ministers, and asked for their advice. They all agreed it was a very serious matter, and warned the king that if the people found out, his enemies might proclaim it as a sign that after ten centuries the dynasty was coming to an end. The ministers told the king that he must find a way to have another mantle made, of the same color.
For the people would not accept any other.
Then the king gathered together all of the royal soothsayers, and asked for their advice. But none of them knew of a way to duplicate the shade of the color, and they were silent. Then at last the oldest soothsayer among them spoke and said: I remember hearing as a child, O king, that the royal mantle was a gift of the Jews. If that is true, then they must know how to prepare the dye and duplicate the color. Now when the king heard this, he wasted no time, but ordered that the leaders of the Jews be brought to the palace the very next morning. And when they stood before him, the king showed them what was left of the royal mantle, and he said: It was your people, the Jews, who gave this mantle to the first king of this dynasty. Somehow a moth must have entered the golden chest in which it was stored, and during the past forty years the moths multiplied and destroyed the royal mantle. This is all that remains. In one year the coronation of my son is to take place.
Plans have already been made, a palace is being built for the occasion, and many great kings have been invited to attend. It cannot be delayed. I want you to take one of these rags with you, and before nine months have passed, I want you to deliver the dye that produces this exact color. If you do not, all of the Jews in this kingdom will be doomed. So too must you keep this mission a secret, for if you do not, there will be a bitter end. The Jewish leaders were terribly frightened when they heard the harsh edict of the king, for they too were familiar with the legend that the royal mantle had been a gift of the Jews. And they also knew that the blue dye that had been used was the same dye that the Torah commands be used in the corner fringes of the prayer shawl worn by the men, known as the tallit. But the secret of how to produce that dye, known as tekhelet, had been lost for centuries, and since then a white thread had been used in its place. One of the leaders tried to explain this to the king, but he grew flushed with anger, and sent them from his presence, reminding them that the edict was still in effect.
In great fear the Jewish leaders met in the synagogue and discussed the matter. They knew that they could not reveal the edict to the rest of the community, since the king had commanded it be kept secret on penalty of death, and besides, they did not want the others to become terrified as well. Therefore they vowed to keep the matter a secret among themselves, and not to reveal it even to their wives.
After this they began to discuss the problem of how to obtain the dye, the secret of which had been lost for so many centuries.
For no one knew for certain the shellfish or snail from which it came, and therefore it could not be produced. Long ago the rabbis had decided that it would be better to leave the corner of the prayer shawl white rather than to err in trying to fulfill the commandment, and this is what had been done. Now, though, they were forced to seek out the dye once again.
Then one old rabbi among them, whose name was Rabbi Abraham, spoke and said: There can be no doubt that we must find a way to satisfy the demand of the king, otherwise he will carry out the threat he has made, and we will all be doomed. Let us concentrate, then, on fulfilling this task, which appears to be so impossible. The others recognized that what the old rabbi had said made sense. Then Rabbi Isaac, who was highly respected, spoke and said: The question is, where can this dye be found? I recall it is said in the Talmud that the secret of how to prepare the dye was known in the city of Luz. This is the city in the Holy Land that was built at the place where Jacob dreamed of the ladder that reached from earth into heaven, with angels ascending and descending upon it. Yes, that is true, said Rabbi Abraham, and according to the Talmud the natives of the city of Luz are spared the fate that is inescapable for all other men—the inevitability of death. For when God decreed that man must die, he left one place on earth where the Angel of Death never held sway, and that is the city of Luz. Not even the armies of Nebuchadnezzar could disturb the city. But, with all respect, said the youngest among them, whose name was Rabbi Jacob, what good does it do for us to think of the city of Luz, for it is to be found in the Holy Land.
The journey there could take a year in itself, as well as a year to return, and the king has commanded that we deliver the dye to him within nine months. Even if it were possible to reach the city of Luz, and even if the secret of how to prepare the dye is still known there, how could this be accomplished in the time remaining? After Rabbi Jacob had spoken there was silence for a long time, for what he said was all too true—the journey to the Holy Land and its return could not take place in the time remaining to them. All of their faces were fixed in a frown, but suddenly the face of the old rabbi lit up and he said: Fear not, for all hope is not yet lost! And all of the others turned to him with wonder in their eyes, for they could not imagine what he had to say. Then Rabbi Abraham said: All my life I have kept the secret that I am about to reveal to you, which I learned from my father, and he from his father before him, for this secret has remained within my family for many centuries. My father made me vow to keep it unless a day should come when all the lives in the community hang in the balance, and only this secret can save them. All of the others held their breaths in anticipation of a secret that had been kept for so long, but was about to be revealed.
Then the old rabbi said: This, then, is the secret: When the End of Days has come and the era of the Messiah is upon us, all souls will travel to Jerusalem for the resurrection. And how will they get there? Through underground caves. And the secret that I know is the location of one of these caves, which leads directly to the Holy Land itself, to a place that is not far from the city of Luz! And the entire journey to the Holy Land through this cave will not take longer than a week! When the others heard this, they could not believe their ears, and for the first time a ray of hope entered their hearts.
Then Rabbi Abraham continued: This, then, is what we should do: Let us choose two among us to undertake this mission.
I would go myself, for I have always longed to enter that cave, but I know that it is too long a journey for an old man, and there must be no delay. I will take the two who are chosen to the mouth of the cave, which is hidden, and reveal it to them. I am afraid that no others may accompany us, for the location of the cave must be kept secret. Things had developed so quickly that all of the leaders were in a state of awe, and they wondered who among them should be chosen to go. At last one of them spoke and said: The important decision that now lies before us is who we shall send on this quest, on which all of our lives and those of our families depend.
In such a case we must choose those in whose hands we can safely entrust our lives. All of the others nodded in agreement, and then Rabbi Abraham spoke again: When I was a child, there was once a situation of life or death such as this, in which it was essential to choose the right one to represent us before the king, who had just signed an evil decree against the Jews. Then the elders gathered outside this very synagogue at midnight on the night of a full moon and the decision was made there. I know this because I concealed myself behind a tree and observed all that took place. If you will accompany me outside, we may be able to reach our decision, for it is almost midnight, and tonight there is a full moon. Then all of the others followed Rabbi Abraham out of the synagogue. He led them to a tree that stood a short distance from it, above which the full moon could be seen. Let each of you stand before this tree, said Rabbi Abraham, as did the elders in my childhood. And let us see if anyone's shadow, cast by the moon, is long enough to reach the door of the synagogue. For the elders believed that he whosever shadow reached the door was the one who was destined to represent them. That night when I was a child there was only one among them—and it was my own father—whose shadow reached the door. And it was he who went before the king, and convinced him to cancel the evil decree against us. The others nodded, and one by one they stood by the tree, but one after another they discovered that their shadows fell short of the door of the synagogue. Soon there were only two of them left who had not yet taken the test, Rabbi Isaac and Rabbi Jacob. But when Rabbi Isaac took his place by the tree, his shadow seemed to grow longer before their very eyes, until the edge of it touched the base of the door. The rabbis cheered, for at last one of them had been found worthy of the quest. Then it was Rabbi Jacob's turn, and when he stood before the tree, his shadow grew so long that it reached not only to the door of the synagogue, but climbed up to the very handle. All of the others gasped when they saw this, and they understood that in this way the Holy One had identified those who should undertake this essential mission.
That night Rabbi Isaac and Rabbi Jacob packed their belongings for the journey, and took leave of their wives and families, although they did not tell them where they were going. At dawn they met Rabbi Abraham at the synagogue, and he gave them a letter of introduction to take with them, and then led them to the forest that surrounded their town. They walked through the forest until the sun was high in the sky, and at last they reached a small spring. The old rabbi followed this stream until they reached a carob tree of great beauty, which was filled with fruit, behind which the stream seemed to disappear. Then Rabbi Abraham said to them: Behind this tree lies the mouth of the cave that leads to the Holy Land. Know that not any man can enter this cave, but only those who possess pure souls will be permitted to pass. All others will be stopped by the flaming sword inside the entrance, which guards the way. If the sword stops spinning and permits you to pass, then you will know that the test of the shadows chose well. And if the sword does not stop spinning, then you must turn back, for it is not destined that you go on. Then Rabbi Abraham pointed to the unlit torches that the two younger rabbis carried, and he said: If you do succeed in passing the flaming sword, you should hold your torches near it, and light them with that fire. It will sustain you for all of your journey through the cave, for that is the same fire that Moses saw when he beheld the burning bush, which burned but was not consumed. You should also know that the water of the stream that runs through this cave is pure, and will sustain you. Know too that the carobs that grow on this tree will be your only food for the seven days that you journey through the cave. For while you are in this cave it will be your spirit that requires sustenance, and not your body, and that is why you will eat carobs, for in no other food is such a pure essence of the spirit contained. Therefore fill your pockets with them. This is what the two rabbis did, and then they stepped behind the tree and found before them the mouth of the cave, just as Rabbi Abraham had said.
Rabbi Isaac, who was the elder of the two, entered first, and when he had passed beyond the first turn in the cave, he found himself confronted with a flaming circle that whirled before him, and he knew that this was the flaming sword of which Rabbi Abraham had spoken. As Rabbi Isaac stood there, the whirling sword slowed down, so that he could see the blade, but it did not stop. A moment later Rabbi Jacob joined him, and as soon as he stood beside him, the flaming sword came to a halt. Then the two rabbis did not hesitate, but hurried past it into the cave. And no sooner had they gone beyond it than the sword started spinning again. Then the two rabbis held out their torches near the flaming sword until each torch caught fire. And the fire burned with a purity unlike anything they had ever seen, and illumined the cave for a great distance, So it was that at last they were on their way to the city of Luz, and there was no turning back.
As Rabbi Isaac and Rabbi Jacob made their way through the long cave, following the stream in its twists and turns, they saw that the walls of the cave were lined with beautiful stone that seemed precious in itself. And the farther they went, the more the air was pervaded with a perfume, like the scent of balsam, and the rabbis were intoxicated with that scent.
After they had traveled for six days they reached a large cavern which was like a room built of well-hewn stones. At the far end of that room they saw a wooden tabernacle which had been set up there in a crevice in the wall of the cavern. And before the Ark there was a stone which seemed to resemble a pulpit. Then the two rabbis did not hesitate, but together they approached the pulpit, and although they did not have prayer books with which to pray, when they opened their mouths and sang, the words rose up by themselves and were carried upward as if on wings.
And the echo of their voices filled the cavern so that it sounded as if a chorus of many voices had joined them in prayer, although no one else was to be seen.
Afterward the two rabbis spent all of the seventh day in that cavern, for they knew it was the Sabbath, and they did not want to continue traveling on the day of rest. All that day their spirits were high, and they were at peace. And the next morning, when they had gone only a short distance, they saw a golden glow, and knew that they were about to reach the other end of the cave.
And when they came there, they found another carob tree, even more beautiful than the first. And as they stepped from the cave they fell to the earth and kissed the ground of the Holy Land, and gave thanks for their good fortune in reaching that sacred place. Then they left their torches burning in the entrance of the cave and replenished their supply of carobs, which they had grown to love, and set off to find their way to the city of Luz.
Not far from the entrance of the cave they saw a hut in the woods, and hurried to it. There they met an old man who lived alone. They asked him about the way to the city of Luz, and he pointed out the path to them, but warned them that they would have to cross woods and swamps and heavy underbrush along the way. So it was that they walked and walked until they could hardly move their feet any longer. Their garments were torn by brambles, and their shoes were worn out by the time they reached Luz.
Once they arrived in the city, the two rabbis asked at once to be brought to the rabbi of Luz. When they met him they showed him the letter of introduction written by Rabbi Abraham, and they revealed the purpose of their quest and asked for his advice.
Imagine their astonishment when the rabbi said: My friends, you have come to the city of Luz, but this is the modern city of Luz, and the place you are seeking is the ancient city of Luz. It is to be found many miles from here, in the wilderness, but only God can say whether or not you will be permitted to enter it. In any case, when you reach the city, keep these words in mind:
'The nut has no mouth.''' The two rabbis almost wept when they learned that they still had not reached their destination. They were so weary and the wilderness looked so terrifying that they almost fainted in despair.
But then they remembered the grave danger facing their people, who had put all of their trust in them, and their courage was renewed. They went back into the wilderness, walking rapidly through the thick underbrush and black forests and on through great stretches of fields. They walked for days, and it seemed as if they had walked to the ends of the earth. At last they reached a clearing, and within it they saw a city encircled by a high wall—the ancient city of Luz. The two rabbis threw up their hands in joy that they had reached it at last. Then they ran from the forest to the clearing, despite their exhaustion, and reached the wall of the city. From where they stood they saw no entrance, so they decided to walk around the wall until they reached the gate.
The two rabbis began their walk beside a giant almond tree that stood outside the wall of the city. The wall itself, built in a circle, was several miles in diameter, and it took them three hours to circle the entire city and to return to the tree whence they had started. But when they reached it, they were appalled, for they realized that there was no gate to the city at all. Never had they heard of such a thing, and their eyes filled with tears, for they had not expected that there would be still more obstacles to overcome. Still, they were determined not to give up now that they had traveled so far.
It was then that Rabbi Isaac remembered the words of the rabbi of the modern city of Luz, and he said to Rabbi Jacob:
What could the old rabbi have meant when he said that 'The nut has no mouth'? And Rabbi Jacob replied: Perhaps it is a riddle in which we may discover the secret of how to enter the city. Then the two rabbis sat down beneath the almond tree, and contemplated the riddle. Suddenly an idea occurred to Rabbi Jacob, and he said: Let us remember that the word for nut is 'luz,' and that this is also the name of the city. Perhaps this almond tree we are sitting beneath, which stands outside the city, somehow bears on the mystery. Then the two rabbis went closer to the tree and examined it, and to their amazement they discovered that its trunk was hollow, and that the opening was large enough to admit a man.
Then Rabbi Isaac said: Perhaps by saying that 'The nut has no mouth,' the old rabbi was telling us that no man could discover the entrance to the city, for perhaps it has no gate but this almond tree. Yes, said Rabbi Jacob, let us step into the hollow trunk and see if it leads anywhere. This they did, and to their amazement they found that the hollow trunk led to the entrance of a cave. Then they entered the cave, which led beneath the wall of the city. Surely we have discovered the entrance, said Rabbi Jacob, and Rabbi Isaac agreed that indeed this must be so, for no other entrance was to be seen. And behold, before they had traveled very far, they saw the faint light which signified they had reached the other end of the cave. And when they emerged from the cave, they found themselves in the city of Luz.
Now at first the rabbis thought that the city was a city like every other, and the people seemed like those seen everywhere else. Children played in the streets, and men and women went about their business. But soon they saw strange sights. They saw very, very old men walking in the streets. Some had beards so long they tripped over them. Finally, the two rabbis approached one of these old men, who seemed downcast. Rabbi Isaac said to him: Tell us, what is the matter? And the old man replied:
Alas, my father has punished me because I fell asleep by the bed of my grandfather, and did not hear him ask me for a glass of water. The two rabbis were amazed to hear this, and they asked the old man how old he was. I am three hundred years old, said the old man. And how old is your father? they both asked at the same time. He is five hundred years old, came the reply.
And your grandfather? He is eight hundred. And is his father still living? Yes, he is, said the old man, and may all Jews be saved from such a fate. He is one thousand years old, and sleeps all week in his bed and only wakes on the Sabbath. The two rabbis were astonished to hear what the old man said, and they were especially surprised that he did not consider living to such an age a great blessing. Rabbi Jacob asked him about this, and the old man said: It is a terrible thing to have to live forever. For God has cursed us with eternal life. Now the two rabbis had not forgotten that Rabbi Abraham had told them that the inhabitants of the city were immortal, but it was amazing to hear it firsthand.
Then Rabbi Isaac said: And it is impossible, then, for any inhabitant of this city to depart from this life? Yes, unless they first depart from the city, said the old man. And Rabbi Jacob said: But why would anyone, young or old, choose to take leave of this city? And the old man said: Because sometimes we grow tired of living. The two rabbis looked at each other and realized that the old man had been talking about himself. Then Rabbi Isaac said to him: Tell us, old man, what is it that you do for a living? It is my work to produce the blue dye that is used in prayer shawls, said the old man. The two rabbis were overjoyed to hear this, and Rabbi Jacob said: Surely Providence has sent you to us as we were sent to you. Then he revealed the purpose of their mission to him, and when he had learned it, the eyes of the old man came alive, and he said to the two rabbis: Come with me to the home of our rabbi, and repeat to him what you have told me, and then perhaps he will realize how important is my work in the eyes of the Lord. So the two rabbis accompanied the old man to the home of the rabbi of Luz. However, when they arrived they were told that the rabbi was very ill. When they asked what was wrong, the rabbi's disciples told them that the rabbi had once tasted a carob when he was a child, eight hundred years ago, which a stranger had brought into the city. And since that had been the last stranger who had entered the city, the rabbi had never been able to taste another carob, since carob trees did not grow in that city.
Lately he had been taken with a terrible longing to taste the fruit of the carob once again, but it was impossible to obtain it for him, for no inhabitant who left the city was ever able to return. Then Rabbi Jacob smiled and put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a handful of carobs. And he said: We are strangers who have just entered the city from the outside; here are the carobs that the rabbi has been longing for. And when the disciples saw the carobs, they hurried to bring the two rabbis into the presence of the old rabbi.
At first the old rabbi of Luz was angry to be disturbed, but when he saw that they had brought him the carobs he so longed for, tears of joy filled his eyes. And no sooner did he take the first bite of the carob than his strength returned, and his pale color became ruddy again. Then he found the strength to sit up in bed, and asked the two rabbis to tell him who they were, and why they had come to that city. So it was that they told their tale and explained the reason for their quest. And as soon as the old rabbi learned of the vital mission, he commanded the dyemaker to hurry home to get a bottle of the dye that the two rabbis needed.
While he was gone, Rabbi Jacob turned to the old rabbi and said: Why is it that the Holy One, Blessed be He, permits the inhabitants of the city of Luz to be immortal? And the old rabbi replied: No one knows for certain why this is so. There are those who say that after the sin of Adam and Eve, God wanted to preserve one boundary in the world that the Angel of Death could not cross. Others say that when God decreed that man would live from dust to dust, he left one small bone that the grave does not consume. This bone is called the luz, and it. will be from this bone that man will be resurrected at the End of Days. And in the same way that God left one bone in the back which is not destroyed, so he also left one place on earth where the Angel of Death cannot enter, and that is this city. Still others, those who feel that our eternal lives are a blessing, say that the Holy One made Luz immortal because it was here that Jacob dreamed of the ladder reaching from earth to heaven, since this is one of the Gates of Heaven. But those who despise our eternal lives say that this city has been cursed by God because when Jacob ran away from Esau, the people refused to let him rest here, and he had to sleep in the wilderness. Therefore, God cursed us with eternal life. Tell me, said Rabbi Isaac, why would anyone choose to abandon such a city? And why can these wanderers never come back? The old rabbi replied, Why do they leave? Some may have grown tired of living, others are said to have been called by an angel to another place. No one knows what they found once they left the city. Perhaps they lost the way and spent their lives trying to find the road that would lead them back. Or perhaps the Angel of Death took them as they turned to go, and buried them in the fields beyond the wall. In any case, the old rabbi continued, whatever the reason, the histories of this city, reaching back for centuries, do not record a single war, a single flood or fire, nor the death of a single man, for all who are bom here have their name inscribed in the Book of Life, and there it remains unless they depart from the city. Just as the old rabbi finished this explanation, the old dyemaker returned with a bottle of the unique blue dye in his hand, and gave it to Rabbi Jacob. Then Rabbi Jacob, who had carried with him the rag that had been part of the royal mantle, took it out and compared it to the dye in the bottle, and the color was identical. Then he gave the bottle to Rabbi Isaac for safekeeping, and Rabbi Isaac put it in a pouch and tied the pouch to his belt.
And now that they had completed the quest, they knew they had to hurry, for they had no time to waste, but Rabbi Jacob had one last question before they departed. He said to the dyemaker:
Tell me, does this dye come from a shellfish or from a snail, for this is a question that our rabbis still debate. It comes from a snail that is found only in this city, said the dyemaker, and for every bottle the size of that I have given you, twelve thousand snails are required. The two rabbis were amazed when they heard this, and they realized that the bottle of dye they had obtained was even more precious than they had thought. Then they took their leave from the old rabbi and the dyemaker with many thanks, and set out on their journey home. They made their way to the cave that ran beneath the city, and returned the same way they had entered.
Somehow the distance did not seem as far this time, and the hours flew, and before long they reached the carob tree that guarded the way to the cave, where their torches were still burning, and a week later they arrived back in their own kingdom.
And when they came to the synagogue, they found all of the leaders assembled together, praying for their safe return. And when they showed them the dye that perfectly matched what was left of the old mantle, there was great rejoicing, for their lives had been saved. Then they revealed all that had happened to them, and the others marveled at the tale. Now not only could they satisfy the king, but there was also enough of the dye for the fringes of every prayer shawl as well, making it possible to fulfill the commandment once more, and this is what they did. Now only three months had passed since the departure of the two rabbis, and when they showed the dye to the king, he was overjoyed to see that it was exactly that which was needed, and ordered that a new royal mantle be made up at once, identical to the first. And as a gift to the Jews who had caused the precious mantle to be restored to his dynasty, the king signed a decree freeing the Jews from all taxes and harsh decrees for as long as the dynasty should last, and had it announced everywhere. And thus began a period in which the lives of the Jews blossomed as never before, for the Holy One had seen to it that they were blessed with great abundance.