And the story, as recounted in Vayikra Rabbah 34, is pretty wild.

It all started on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, a time for reflection and new beginnings. Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai, a prominent sage, was sleeping when he had a dream. In it, his sister’s children were being sued by the kingdom for 600 dinars—a hefty sum back in those days! What to do?

Rabbi Shimon, wise as he was, had an idea. He urged his nephews to become administrators of the charity fund. Seems straightforward, right? But the nephews were understandably concerned. "Where's the money going to come from?" they asked. His answer was simple: "Spend what's needed, keep meticulous records, and if there's a deficit at the end of the year, I’ll cover it."

So, they did. They dedicated themselves to administering charity. But trouble was brewing. As the story goes, someone started spreading rumors about them, likely related to their involvement in the silk trade. (Ah, intrigue!) One day, a government official showed up and presented them with a choice: either create a royal garment for the king, or face a fine of 600 dinars. They were promptly thrown in jail.

Can you imagine the panic?

When Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai heard what happened, he rushed to their aid. "How much have you spent?" he asked. They showed him their ledger. They had spent 594 dinars. Rabbi Shimon said, “Give me six dinars, and I’ll get you out.” His nephews were… skeptical. “There’s an old man accusing us of owing 600 dinars," they protested. "And you think six dinars will solve this?”

But Rabbi Shimon was insistent. "Just give me the six dinars," he said, "and don't worry." They reluctantly handed him the coins, secretly, in a clenched fist. He then used the money as a bribe to silence the accuser, preventing him from speaking to the king. And, incredibly, it worked! His nephews were freed.

Understandably, they were astonished. "Did you know this would happen?" they asked. "Did you know we'd need to pay exactly six hundred dinars, such that after spending 594 on charity, we'd only need to pay another six?" Rabbi Shimon replied, "As you live, from Rosh Hashanah eve, I knew you would be sued for six hundred dinars."

Talk about a premonition!

But here's where it gets really interesting. The nephews were a little miffed. “If you had told us," they said, "wouldn’t we have gladly given even the six dinars as a mitzvah (a good deed)?” Rabbi Shimon explained his reasoning: “Had I told you, you wouldn’t have believed me. Moreover, I distracted you so you would perform the mitzvah for its own sake.”

Think about that for a moment. Rabbi Shimon was more concerned with their pure intention, with the selfless act of giving, than with the outcome itself. He knew that if they knew they were "investing" in their own salvation, the act wouldn't be as genuine.

The Vayikra Rabbah is full of these gems, these little stories that offer profound insights into Jewish thought and practice. And as Ginzberg explains in Legends of the Jews, often these tales illustrate deeper truths about faith and human nature. This story isn't just about a dream or a bribe. It’s about the power of intention, the importance of selfless giving, and the idea that sometimes, the most meaningful acts are the ones we perform without expecting anything in return.