The priest entered the room of the dying man. After administering the last rights, the priest took one last look at the counselor, whom he too admired, and left the room looking very sad. The king's doctor returned to the room and was shocked to see the unconscious counselor actually moving his lips, then breathing deeply, and finally opening his eyes and asking for a drink of water. From then on, the patient began to recover quickly.
When the counselor was fully recovered, he asked for the priest to visit him. "First of all," he said to the priest, "I want to thank you for praying for me when the doctors had given up all hope. I have the distinct feeling that your prayers helped me; especially the short, strange prayer that you recited repeatedly."
The priest paled and stammered, "G-d accepts prayers in any language."
"But," persisted the counselor, "I am curious to know what that prayer was that you whispered into my ear."
"There are certain things that a clergyman must keep secret," answered the nervous cardinal.
"Listen," said the counselor. "When I lay unconscious, my soul hovering between life and death, the prayer you said sunk into my brain. I am sure those were the same words I heard the Marranos call out with their last breaths as they were burned at the stake. You must be one of the Marranos!"
The priest's face turned ashen. The counselor continued, "It is the duty of every true Catholic to inform the Inquisition of any suspicious behavior."
The priest quietly began his story: "I come from a family of secret Jews. When I was twelve years old, my father told me this and began to teach me about commandments I would be obligated to carry out in another year. When I was fifteen, he enrolled me in the Royal Seminary for the priesthood. He explained that as a priest I would be able to help my Jewish brethren. I would have free access to every home without suspicion and could encourage Jews to keep firm in their Jewishness. If I won the confidence of the inner circle of the Inquisition, then I could warn those who were under suspicion. All this, in fact, I was able to accomplish. G-d protected me from all danger.
"It has been my practice to whisper "Shema Yisrael" in the ear of each dying person. I do not always know who is or is not a secret Jew. If the person was born a Christian, he would be none the worse for it. But if he was a Jew, the holy words of the Shema could awaken in him his Jewish spark and a feeling of repentance in the last moment of his life, and he would then feel that he is dying as a Jew."
Both men were quiet now. The counselor broke the silence. "I have no choice but to put you in the hands of the Inquisition unless you are prepared to forget everything and from now on behave as a true Christian priest."
"I cannot make such a promise," replied the priest. "I am ready to give my life for my Jewish faith, as did my ancestors who died at the stake, with the Shema on their lips."
The royal counselor jumped up and happily embraced the cardinal.
"I, too, was born a Jew, and my parents were also secret Jews like your own. But my parents died when I was a small child and I was brought up by my uncle who was the royal counselor. Just before my 13th birthday, my uncle told me the secret that I was a Jew. He arranged for a teacher to prepare me for my Bar Mitzva, but that is where my Jewish education ended. I took over the position of royal counselor upon my uncle's death and slowly forgot that I was a Jew.
"When I became ill I remembered that I was a Jew and felt troubled and confused. If only there was some way I could die as a Jew, but the holy words of the Shema would not come to mind. Then, suddenly, as if in a dream, I heard those elusive words, "Shema Yisrae." My whole being became alive again. I made a vow that if G-d let me live, I would return to the Jewish faith with a whole heart.
"Now that G-d helped me to get well, I figured out a way to fulfill my vow. I will go before the king and tell him that at the height of my sickness, I made a solemn vow that if G-d would spare me, I would settle in the Holy Land to spend my remaining years in seclusion and holiness. I would ask the king a special favor; to allow you, my dear friend, to join me, to be my spiritual mentor and teacher in my old age. He would not, of course, even suspect that both of us are secret Jews."
Words could not express the joy which the "priest" felt. The king, in fact, agreed to all of the requests of his loyal counselor and allowed the "priest" to accompany him. Amidst great honor, the counselor and the priest left the shores of Spain. They eventually made it to the Holy Land and settled in Sfat.
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