The emperor Antoninus was a secret friend of Rabbi Judah the Prince, the compiler of the Mishnah. They visited each other, but Rome could not know of it. Antoninus had an underground passage dug between their homes, and whenever he traveled it, the two servants who accompanied him were quietly killed at the end of each visit, lest word leak out.
Once, arriving unexpectedly, Antoninus found that a third man was present with the Rabbi — Hanina ben Hama. The emperor was furious. “Did I not order no witnesses?” Judah said, “Trust him. He is my disciple.” To test the claim, Antoninus ordered Hanina to call back the servant who had just been killed. Hanina prayed. The servant opened his eyes and stood up.
From then on, when Antoninus needed advice on a matter of state, he came in secret. He once asked, “I want my son to succeed me, and I want to exempt Tiberias from taxes for a year, but the law forbids two decrees in one year.” Judah walked into his garden, picked up one man and set him on another’s shoulders, then placed a bird in the top man’s hand and told him to release it. Antoninus understood: let the son pronounce the decree.
Another time Antoninus asked how to handle rebellious nobles. Judah said nothing. He led the emperor into the garden and, every day the emperor visited, uprooted a single plant. One at a time. Never two at once. Antoninus went home and did the same with his enemies.
When Antoninus asked what to do about his daughter who had misbehaved, Judah sent him back with a sprig of a plant called gaddeah — which in Hebrew sounds like “spare her.” The emperor spared her.
The rabbis loved this friendship. Power can be advised by wisdom — but only if it is willing to walk a garden in silence.