The Letter of Aristeas, an ancient text attributed to a courtier in the service of Ptolemy II Philadelphus (that's Ptolemy the Second, Philadelphus – quite a name, right?) suggests that’s not just a personal quirk, but "the highest possession of man."
Think about that. It's not wealth, not power, but the constant striving "to add to his stock of knowledge and acquirements." Whether through poring over history books or diving headfirst into the events unfolding around us, it’s that hunger for understanding that truly defines us.
According to the Letter of Aristeas, this pursuit isn't just about collecting trivia. It's about something far more profound. It's about refining the very essence of our being. By absorbing the noblest ideas and ideals, our soul, our neshama, is purified. And with our sights set on piety – on tzdeket, righteousness, the noblest goal of all – we gain a compass, an infallible guide, that gives our lives true purpose.
Now, what does this have to do with an embassy to some esteemed ruler? Well, the author of the Letter tells us that his "devotion to the pursuit of religious knowledge" led him on a journey. He sought out a man highly regarded by his people and others, a man of both virtue and majesty. This ruler possessed documents of immense importance to the Jewish people, both at home and abroad: the sacred texts, the very laws of God, "written on leather parchments in Jewish characters." He sought to have these laws translated into Greek.
Imagine the scene: a royal court, ancient scrolls, and the burning desire to unlock the wisdom within. It’s a story of ambition, scholarship, and the enduring power of the written word. More importantly, it's a story about a king who respected the knowledge of another culture. What if we all respected each other's knowledge today? What would that look like?