Once upon a time in a far away land there lived a king who had a Jewish advisor. The king relied so much on the wisdom of his Jewish advisor that one day he decided to elevate him to head advisor. After it was announced, the other advisors objected. “It was bad enough,” the other advisors complained, “just to sit in counsel with a Jew. But to allow one to be over us? That’s just too much to bear.”
Being a compassionate ruler, the King agreed with them, and ordered the Jew to convert. What could the Jew do? One had to obey the King, and so he did.
As soon as the act was done, the Jew felt great remorse for this terrible decision. As days became weeks, his remorse turned to despondency, and as months passed, his mental depression took its toll on his physical health.
He became weaker and weaker. Finally he could stand it no longer. His mind was made up. He burst in on the king and cried, “I was born a Jew and a Jew I must be. Do what you want with me, but I can no longer deny my faith.”
The King was very surprised. He had no idea that the Jew felt so strongly about it. “Well, if that is how you feel,” he said, “then the other advisors will just have to learn to live with it. Your counsel is much too important to me to do without. Go and be a Jew again,” he said.
The Jew was elated. He hurried back home to tell the good news to his family. He felt the strength surge back into his body as he ran. Finally, he burst into the house and called out to his wife. “Rivka, Rivka, we can be Jews again, we can be Jews again!”
His wife glared back at him angrily and said, “You couldn’t have waited until after Pesach cleaning?!”