Fish or Chicken?

The following story took place during the time of the Spanish Inquisition.

During the Spanish Inquisition, many yidden had to be secret yidden. They were called “Marranos.” They had to pretend as if they were not yidden, otherwise they would be severely punished. Many times they were publicly burnt at the stake.

They would learn Torah and do all the mitzvos in secret. They had secret minyanim in special secret basements. Everything they did was in secret.

Well, this story is about a man named Chaim Yaakov and his wife Tova. One Friday night, Chaim Yaakov came home from the secret shul that was in someone else’s house.

He and his wife quietly tip-toed into a secret room in the basement. They would have to conduct their Shabbos meal there, otherwise, the police would be able to spy on them very easily.

Downstairs, Chaim Yaakov began to pour the wine into his becher and was preparing to make kiddush.

Meanwhile, there was someone right outside Chaim Yaakov’s house. He was looking through a tiny crack in the wall of the basement. This man was… one of the secret police of Spain!

Chaim Yaakov did not know about the crack in the wall, and neither did he know about the policeman who was watching him, so he started to make kiddush.

The policeman said to one of his friends that was there, “Uh, the man is standing up with a cup in his hands, and he’s saying a whole bunch of words.

“That’s a little strange. Oh, now he’s drinking from the cup. It’s wine there. Yeah, maybe he’s just having a nice cup of wine.

“Okay, now he is washing his hands. Maybe they got a little dirty. Now he is uncovering two loaves of bread. It’s strange bread; it’s very bumpy.

“Why does he need two loaves? Oh, he’s probably going to have a big meal.

“You know,” the policeman said, “I think this man might be one of those Marranos, because he’s doing a lot of strange things. Let’s see what he’ll do next.

“Uh, now he is saying some more words, and he is cutting the bread. Very funny bread!

“Now he is eating the bread. Okay, now I see someone putting fish on the table. That’s very good. He’s not eating meat—he’s eating fish.”

In Spain, there was a law, that on Friday night, no one was allowed to eat meat or chicken—only fish.

The policeman continued, “He finished the fish. Okay, now he’s eating soup. It looks like it’s probably fish soup, or maybe vegetable soup.

“You know, let’s get going,” the police man said. “I do not see this man doing anything wrong. He is just having a nice meal.”

“No, no!” his friend said. “Maybe after this he is going to eat something else… Maybe he is going to have chicken or meat. Then we will know for sure if he is a Marrano.”

Well, after Chaim Yaakov finished his “fish soup,” which was really chicken soup, his wife served chicken.

“Oh, what is that?” asked the policeman. “It looks like chicken,” his friend answered. “I told you we were correct to stay here.”

The two policemen then broke down the door of the house, and after some investigation, they found the entry to the secret basement. They went downstairs and said to Chaim Yaakov, “You’re under arrest. We caught you eating chicken on Friday night!

“You are a Marrano and you are coming with us to the judge!”

So, Chaim Yaakov went with the two policemen to the judge. The policemen explained to the judge what had happened.

The judge asked, “Is this the first time that you caught this man or is it the second time?”

“It’s the first time,” the policemen answered.

“Okay,” the judge said. “Let’s baptize him now, so that he won’t be a Jew anymore!” The judge then took some water and spayed it three times on Chaim Yaakov.

“You are not a Jew anymore,” the judge said. “No more Shabbos, no more mitzvos, no more Torah. Now go home.”

So, Chaim Yaakov went home. When Tova saw that he was fine, she said, “Chaim Yaakov, what happened to you? I see Boruch Hashem you are fine. What transpired at the courthouse?”

“Oh,” Chaim Yaakov said, “when I came there, they sprayed some water on me and said that I was a goy. That sounds pretty strange—I don’t know. I’m tired now, so I think I’ll go to sleep.”

So, Chaim Yaakov said krias shema and went to sleep.

The next week, on Friday night, again Chaim Yaakov came home from the secret shul, and was ready to make kiddush.

As Chaim Yaakov was making kiddush, the same policeman was spying on him from the same crack in the wall that was used last week.

The policeman saw Chaim Yaakov making kiddush. “That’s no problem,” he thought. Then Chaim Yaakov made hamotzi. “That’s okay too,” the police man said to himself.

The meal went on—fish, chicken soup, and then…chicken!

The policeman broke into Chaim Yaakov’s house again and arrested him. He told him, “Don’t you know that you are not allowed to eat chicken? You’re under arrest, and this time you are going to be severely punished!”

Chaim Yaakov came to the courthouse. When the judge saw Chaim Yaakov, he asked the policeman, “Didn’t you bring this man to me last week?”

“Yes,” the policeman answered, “but I arrested him again. I caught him eating chicken.”

The judge asked, “Well sir, what do you have to say for yourself? You know that you are not allowed to eat chicken or meat on Friday night!”

Chaim Yaakov said, “I was not eating chicken. I was eating fish.”

“Do not tell me you were eating fish!” exclaimed the judge. “This looks like chicken to me—it smells like it too. How can you say that it is not chicken?!”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Chaim Yaakov said. “We were having supper, and my wife must have forgotten that it was Friday night, so she served chicken. Of course, I didn’t want to eat the chicken, so I sprayed my soup on it three times, and I said that it was fish.”

“That’s impossible,” said the judge. “You cannot spray soup on the chicken three times and change it into fish. If it’s chicken, it’s chicken. You can’t change that!”

Chaim Yaakov said, “Well, last week, when I was brought here, you sprayed me with water three times, and told me that I was not a Jew anymore. I thought, if you can do that to me, I can do that to chicken. So, I sprayed my chicken with the soup three times, and called it fish.”

What do we learn from this story?

A yid is a yid, no matter what happens to him. Even spraying him three times will not change that.