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IN-DEPTH FEATURES
Introduction
Inevitably, a picture built from afar of the thriving Torah life of Yerushalayim is composed of images and information that focus upon the largest groupings that dominate communal news, such as the spiritual heirs of the old yishuv, the large chassidic followings or the big yeshivos. Closer acquaintance reveals that such a picture needs adjustment; instead of being made up of a few large forms, it will be more accurately perceived as an impressionist-style mosaic. Numerous other groups exist, some larger, some smaller, which may or may not exist as distinct communal entities but each of which is certainly a distinct piece of the mosaic, making its own contribution to the whole. One such group are the rabbinical families of the Chalabim.
The Jews of Aram Tzovah, or Chalab (Aleppo), in what is today Northern Syria, have a long and distinguished communal history. According to tradition, the community's roots extend to before the building of the First Beis Hamikdosh, and while there was an influx of refugees following the expulsion from Spain, the special spiritual character that typified the community has survived to this day.
There was no large scale immigration of Syrian Jews to Eretz
Yisroel (such as took place fifty years ago from Morocco,
Yemen, Iraq and other major Sephardi communities). The first
to make their way to Eretz Yisroel from Chalab in
modern times were the members of a group of rabbonim and
their families, who arrived just over a century ago. They
left Chalab due to the arrival there of the
Alliance, with their plans for secularizing
traditional Jewish education, as they feared for their
spiritual future were they to remain. Members of this group
were among the founders and leaders of several large and
well known yeshivos in Yerushalayim, such as Porat
Yosef and the yeshiva of the mekubolim in the
Bucharian neighborhood. One of the members of this group was
Rav Avrohom Chaim Adess, Rav Yaakov Adess' father. In recent
decades, many other Chalabim, have emigrated to the
United States. Outside Eretz Yisroel, the largest and best
known Chalabi community is the blossoming community
in Flatbush, New York, founded and led by HaRav Yosef Harari
Raful.
The heart of this two part series on the life of HaRav
Yaakov Adess of Yerushalayim is the beautiful and moving
essay prepared by his sons, that is printed at the beginning
of the recently published first volume of Chedvas
Yaakov, which contains some of his chiddushei
Torah on Shulchan Oruch. After HaRav Adess' good
friend, ylct'a, HaRav Eliashiv examined the essay, he
commented that everything written there is true.
A short biographical account prefaces the first section of
the essay, which appears in this article, while in the
second one, the essay's concluding section is followed by an
interview with HaRav Yehudah Adess, the Rosh Yeshiva of
Yeshivas Kol Yaakov, which delves a little deeper into some
of the points made in it.
Part One: A Biographical Outline
Rav Yaakov Adess was born in Yerushalayim on the eighth of
Adar 5658 (1898), the youngest of his father's four sons,
each of whom achieved Torah greatness in his own right. He
received his early education from his father, Rav Avrohom
Chaim Adess. In 5670 (1910), when he was just twelve years
old, his father placed him in Yeshivas Ohel Moed, where the
leading talmidei chachomim of the day gathered, and
he soon became known as one of the foremost talmidim
of the rosh yeshiva, Rav Rafoel Shlomo Laniado and of
Rav Yosef Yedid Halevi.
The yeshiva remained open until the outbreak of the First
World War in 5674 (1914), when some of the talmidim
were forced into exile in Egypt and others, in Bucharia,
until the war's end. Rav Yaakov Adess remained in Eretz
Yisroel despite the terrible suffering that the inhabitants
of Yerushalayim underwent during the war years. Heavy
famine, plagues and diseases were a constant presence and
the proximity of the Turkish army and the consequent forced
conscriptions, arrests and deportations, led to the
depletion of the Jewish population, as many left Eretz
Yisroel. Rav Adess stayed, clinging to Torah study despite
the hunger, thirst and want. When the war ended in 5678
(1918), the talmidim returned and reopened the
yeshiva, trying to restore it to its former standing.
In 5680 (1920), when he was twenty-two, Rav Adess was
appointed as a maggid shiur in Ohel Moed, serving in
this position until Iyar 5683 (1923), when the yeshiva
closed and all the talmidim moved with Rav Laniado to
Porat Yosef. Here, Rav Adess was initially appointed as a
maggid shiur and later served as one of the roshei
hayeshiva. For twenty years, he delivered two daily
shiurim in the yeshiva: gemora in the morning,
and Tur-Shulchon Oruch Choshen Mishpot in the
afternoon.
Relatively little remains of Rav Adess' written Torah. Most
of his writings on Shas were written while he taught
in Porat Yosef and most of these manuscripts were destroyed
when the Jordanians captured the Old City in 5708 (1948),
and burned down the building of Porat Yosef, which
stood near the Kosel Hama'arovi (and which has since
been rebuilt).
In 5695 (1925), while teaching in Porat Yosef, Rav
Adess was asked by the gaon Rav Yaakov Meir
zt'l to serve on the beis din which he had
established. He accepted and remained at this post for
eighteen years, until 5703 (1943).
Throughout his life, Rav Adess suffered from a weak heart.
At times, the pains in his heart forced him to take to his
bed to rest. He and his rebbetzin also knew tragedy.
Two young children, a son and a daughter, passed away from
pneumonia. Despite the grief into which these events plunged
him and his family, Rav Adess never allowed himself to
wallow in his distress. He continued to busy himself with
Torah, which was the source of his strength and from which
he never budged, even during the hardest times.
Tragedy struck again on Lag B'omer 5696 (1936), when the
Adess' firstborn, Avrohom Chaim zt'l, passed away
when he was only sixteen years old, as the result of a
complication during a minor operation. Avrohom Chaim learned
Torah with tremendous application and was expected to attain
greatness in Torah. Rav Adess was shattered by this event
and refused to be comforted until, one night he had a dream
in which he saw a venerable sage, who handed him a letter in
which was written, "Behave kavshei deRachmono lomoh
lecho? (Why do you concern yourself with Heaven's secret
reckoning?)"
This calmed him and thereafter, in addition to his two daily
shiurim in the yeshiva, he added another one each
night for working men, which continued for many years, as a
result of which many of the participants grew to become true
bnei Torah.
Despite all he suffered, he exemplified the words of the
Chovos Halevovos, "The pious man's mourning is in his
heart and his happiness is on his face." Rav Adess'
countenance always reflected the joy and calm that comes
from a concrete knowledge that everything comes from
Hakodosh Boruch Hu.
At the beginning of 5704 (1943), a position as dayan
in Tel Aviv was offered to him. At first he refused to
respond to the suggestion, despite the fact that the
compensation being offered would have done much towards
alleviating the poverty in his home. When he was pressured
to accept, he consulted his friend, HaRav Dovid Yungreis
zt'l, the av beis din of the Eidah
HaChareidis. Rav Yungreis told him that although his
community was opposed to the institution of the State
Rabbinate, they still wanted to see the positions there
filled by rabbonim such as Rav Adess, who approached
halachic ruling with the necessary caution and reticence, in
order to prevent mistakes from occurring.
Rav Adess remained unconvinced, until Rav Yungreis spoke to
him at length, in response to which the former told him, "I
will be relying on you in the World of Truth!" and only then
did he accept. During this time, he also served as rov of
the city's community of natives of Aram Tzovah in Syria. His
mornings were devoted to his duties on the beis din
and during the afternoons, he delivered shiurim.
He served in these positions faithfully, leaving his home in
Yerushalayim at the beginning of each week, spending the
weekdays in Tel Aviv and returning home to Yerushalayim
before Shabbos. Often, when there were problems with travel,
he would only come home every few weeks.
At the end of 5705 (1945), Rav Adess was appointed as av
beis din in Yerushalayim. In 5715 (1955), he was chosen
to serve on the Chief Rabbinate's Beis Din Hagodol.
He was one of the pillars of the world of dayonus and
he and the other dayonim, HaRav Yitzchok Meir Ben
Menachem zt'l (son-in-law of Rav Isser Zalman Meltzer
zt'l), HaRav Betzalel Zolti zt'l, who later
became rav of Yerushalayim, HaRav Eliezer Goldschmidt
zt'l, and ylct'a, HaRav Yosef Sholom Eliashiv,
today's foremost halachic authority, placed this branch of
the Chief Rabbinate on a firm footing.
HaRav Zolti once commented to one of Rav Adess' sons, "What
was unique about your father was his ability to immediately
grasp how many questions were involved in each matter, to
deal with each of them separately and then to produce a
conclusion that took all the different points into
consideration."
Rav Adess remained in this position for eight years, until
his relatively sudden petiroh, after a short illness,
in 5723 (1963).
Part Two: Introduction to Chedvas Yaakov
Composed by the Author's Sons
Joy and Trembling: In His Presence
His deep insight and broad understanding conferred an air of
nobility upon every aspect of his conduct. Respectability
and simplicity were merged in him, the latter trait a result
of his humility. There was no contradiction whatsoever
between this respectability and reverence on the one hand,
and his abiding lightness of manner and good cheer on the
other. He loved joy while hating mockery and
lightheadedness.
Whoever stood next to him under the chuppah as he
conducted a kiddushin, experienced an atmosphere akin
to that of Simchas Torah and Yom Kippur together. His voice
would echo throughout the hall, bringing gladness into every
heart, while the air of solemnity that enveloped him,
affected all who stood around him. On such an occasion it
was unthinkable to utter a casual remark or to feel
lightheaded. The moment was truly one of both joy and
elevation.
This earnestness regulated his conduct at all times. He told
us that he would ask dayonim to refrain from sitting
and listening to a dispute wearing just a yarmulke on
their heads. He wanted them to keep their hats on, because
this heightened the awe in which the disputants held
them.
The Three Weeks were sad days in our home, while the
yomim noroi'im were truly days of awe. On festivals,
a special joy permeated the house. One could say that our
home was like a living Shulchan Oruch; every
spiritual mood was a real experience in the home. Even the
awe of the yomim noroi'im was tempered with an air of
joy and uplifting.
An author once brought Father a book he had written. When
the man left, one of the younger boys remarked that he had
put too much emphasis on his own name in the customary
allusion to the author in the book's title, a comment which
sounded like belittlement of the book's worth and the
author's standing. Father said: "My son, listen. I give you
my blessing that you merit to learn Torah and to compose a
written Torah work, even if you wish to give it your actual
name and to add the title, `the great gaon'!"
He then went on, explaining to us very well how much toil
every author invests before he sees the results of his
labors and asking how one could speak with disrespect about
someone who had put so much work into learning Torah. He
also mentioned the comment of the Nesivos, that one
good thing in a book is sufficient justification for the
entire work.
Derogatory speech came nowhere near him and while delicacy
prevented him from upbraiding others who spoke it in his
presence, anyone who did so felt how the radiance of his
face vanished when such talk reached his ears. On the other
hand, upon hearing someone being praised, especially a
talmid chochom, his face lit up. We do not remember a
single occasion when he criticized any person, community, or
institution. In fact, he would always interject a good word
about anyone whose name was mentioned in his hearing.
In those cases where he was forced to bring something to our
attention or to comment, he spoke gently, in a soft voice
and with pleasantness. A comment he often used to repeat
was, "Anything that should not be conveyed through fire,
should be conveyed through water," [the words of the
posuk in Bamidbor 31:23]. By this he meant
that even words of criticism that are intended to guide the
listener and lead him back to a good, straight path, should
not be said "through fire" -- in a way that might chas
vesholom singe the person they are meant for -- but
should be conveyed "through water" -- gently and with
forbearance. This was the approach he adopted with everyone,
with the people whom he encountered in the course of his
affairs as well as with the talmidim whose hearts he
wanted to open and draw close to Torah.
Father used to explain the posuk (Tehillim 131:2), "
. . . if I have not set (balanced) and silenced my soul . .
. " in the light of the advice of the Chovos
Halevovos, who says that a person must attain the trait
of equanimity, meaning that hearing his praises or his shame
should be the same to him. He would explain thus, " `Im
lo shivisi,' if I have not merited attaining the trait
of equanimity, then `vedomamti,' I will nevertheless
be silent, like someone who has attained this
trait."
The King's Commands
[Though his straightforward manner concealed a vast amount,]
here and there, glimpses could be caught of his fear of
Heaven and his extreme care in matters of halochoh.
For example, a sentence that recurs many times in his
letters is, "Although grounds exist for ruling leniently, my
heart does not allow me to permit it."
Choosing the arba minim for Succos was an important
and special undertaking all of its own. He would stand for
hours, searching for an esrog that was beautiful in
every sense. Rav David Yehudyoff zt'l related how, on
the day after Yom Kippur, after examining hundreds of
branches of hadassim, he would leave taking with him
just one single branch. It was typical to see him on erev
Succos morning, starting to scrutinize his esrog
again; sometimes he would make his way back to the arba
minim market once more, in the hope of finding an even
better esrog.
He was particularly careful during shmittah years.
Once, one of his sons accompanied him to the market to buy
vegetables and noticed that his father was only looking for
a shop that sold supervised produce. "Father," he asked,
"Here is a gentile woman selling vegetables. What could be
better than to buy from her?"
His father replied, "Come and I'll show you . . . "
Approaching the woman he said to her, "Tell me where you got
those vegetables that you're selling," and added, "I am one
of the Jewish chachamim, so you had better tell me
the truth. It's not worth your while to lie . . . "
The woman immediately picked up the basket in front of her
and started making her way towards a Jewish owned shop
saying, "This shopkeeper gave me the vegetables to sell for
him . . . "
Before Pesach, we used to soak raisins in water at home to
make wine for the arba cosos. Once, after the raisins
had been soaking in the water for several days, Father
noticed some liquid floating on the water's surface. He was
concerned lest this be non-kosher oil and he refused to use
the raisins, pointing out that the Sdei Chemed had
already mentioned the practice of smearing raisins with oil.
Everyone who saw the soaking raisins was almost certain that
what was floating on the water was not oil, but he was not
prepared to rely on this.
He went to the market and bought fresh raisins, so that
there would be no doubts whatsoever about the wine. He then
began to repeat the lengthy cleaning process. He sat down to
brush the new raisins one by one with a toothbrush, prior to
rinsing and soaking them. He did not say a word about what
had happened. Through his simplicity and his unassuming
conduct, he managed to conceal the meticulous care which he
took over fulfilling halochoh.
The mishnah in Ovos 5:22 notes that disciples
of Avrohom Ovinu possess, "a good eye, a lowly spirit and an
unassuming soul." This mishnah actually comes to give
us an idea of the character of Avrohom Ovinu but in doing so
it establishes that the test of true humility is the degree
to which it is imparted to one's disciples. We saw this in
our father, when our brother the gaon and
tzaddik Rav Yosef ztvk'l, was taken from
us.
During the shivoh it became clear that our brother
had managed to conceal his greatness in serving Hashem and
that we had not even appreciated a little of what he was. We
applied the posuk (Bereishis 42:8), "And Yosef
recognized his brothers but they did not recognize him," to
him. We then realized that our father's humility had been
conferred upon our brother. Our father's son and
talmid had "a favorable eye, a lowly spirit and an
unassuming soul," just like the talmidim of Avrohom
Ovinu.
At any rate, what we used to see and what we were
aware of about our brother was the extent to which he spread
Torah, in Yeshivas Porat Yosef for over forty years, and
also through a number of other shiurim which he gave
daily. His conduct and the way he arranged his day, over
both of which he was scrupulously careful for decades, are a
source of mussar and true instruction as to the
character of a tzaddik and gaon who served
Hashem completely.
Annul Your Will Before His: The Sign Of True
Humility
An integral part of our father's Torah was his determination
to preserve Torah in all its purity. His fear of Heaven and
his understanding afforded him the insight to foresee how
situations would develop. A consequence of this was that
where others viewed certain initiatives as bolstering Torah,
he saw that they would actually undermine Torah.
A proposal was once put forward by the American Joint, that
Porat Yosef would run a program in the yeshiva that would be
called Beis Horo'oh. The purpose of the program would
be to train avreichim to serve as dayonim. The
idea was that the avreichim would spend two hours
every afternoon learning Even Ho'ezer and Choshen
Mishpot. The Joint promised very substantial financial
help for the scheme and it should be noted that this
proposal was made at a time when poverty and lack were the
rule in the Torah community. Everyone who heard about the
program saw a salvation in it.
Father, however, was utterly opposed to the idea. His reason
was that throughout our history there has never been a
precedent for learning in order to receive a position.
Talmidim learned, and they grew and developed in
Torah and the natural consequence was that whoever attained
a fitting level was appointed as a dayan. But, he
argued, we never saw among our fathers or ancestors that
people learned in order to become a dayan or to
receive any other similar position. We are duty bound to
pass the Torah on to future generations as we received it
from our forbears and our teachers, he said. It should be
noted that when the proposal was put to the rosh
yeshva, the gaon HaRav Ezra Attieh ztvl'l,
his reaction was the same. We saw how "two prophets
prophesied in the same way."
During the period that he was teaching in Porat Yosef, it
occurred to a certain rav, who was not on the staff but who
wielded a very powerful influence on the institution, to
introduce the study of foreign languages into the yeshiva.
The rav's intentions were good; he wanted the
talmidim to be able to serve in the future as
rabbonim in communities in chutz la'aretz. Father and
the rosh yeshiva began to plan ways to abort the
plan. The opportunity to do so soon presented itself. It was
customary for the yeshiva to hold a meeting of all the
talmidim and teachers on the yahrzeit of the
philanthropist Rabbi Yosef Shalom zt'l. Father
availed himself of this opportunity and, after prior
coordination with the rosh yeshiva, he delivered a
fiery speech in opposition to the study of foreign languages
in the yeshiva. His words achieved their purpose and, since
it was clear that any further attempt to implement the idea
would be met with stiff resistance, the plan was dropped.
This aspect of Father's personality is summed up in one of
the letters written to him by the rosh yeshiva, HaRav
Attieh: "To his honor . . . wise of heart, mighty and a man
of war, who returns battle at the gates . . . my beloved and
dear one . . . HaRav Yaakov Adess . . . " At first glance,
the reference to Father as a man of battle is astonishing.
Anyone who knew him even slightly, or who had met him even
once, was struck by the tenderness that emanated from his
gentle soul and by the humility and self effacement that
were part of his nature. Nevertheless here, we find the rosh
yeshiva who as his very close friend knew him extremely
well, describing him in such terms.
The reason for this is as follows. We know that all the
great gedolim of past generations who were known to
be exceedingly humble, were nevertheless revealed, in
circumstances where Heaven's honor was concerned, as men of
far greater strength and boldness than those who are
naturally hard and heavy-handed. This is because in his
innermost heart, the one and only wish of a humble person is
to fulfill Hashem's will. Therefore, wherever his own
personal wishes are concerned, he annuls himself to the
extreme. But for the very same reason, if Heaven's honor is
at stake, he elevates himself and girds himself with might,
becoming belligerent to the extreme.
If we were to try and enumerate all the various
manifestations of our father's humility, the list would go
on and on, besides which, not everything can be recorded. We
will just cite two examples of how he fled from honor and
how he forgave those who shamed him, both of which traits
are indicative of true humility.
It is well known that in 5713 (1953), it was proposed that
he be appointed as Chief Rabbi, all those involved being
unanimous in their wish to see him chosen. We should stress
that it is quite clear that there was nothing remarkable in
his utter rejection of the proposal. What is noteworthy
however, is that his character was so far removed from any
such idea, that the atmosphere which he made in the house,
which affected our mother a'h, and ourselves, was one
of impending disaster choliloh, forcing him to
anticipate and to find ways to avert the evil event. People
would visit the house daily to try and work on him and he
requested that we, his sons, be at home in order to help him
resist the pressures that were being brought to bear. On the
day we were told that they had approached another candidate,
there was a great sigh of relief at home, and an atmosphere
of joy, such as when a piece of good news has arrived.
This was not an isolated incident. It serves as a general
example of the atmosphere of simplicity and modesty that he
conferred upon all the members of the household. The living
conditions in our home were very Spartan and frugal but we
never felt that anything was missing. There was always a
feeling of plenty at home, and the house itself appeared to
us to be beautiful and splendid. Only when we came into the
house after Father's petiroh did we suddenly see all
that was missing and lacking. We understood then, that it
was the radiance of his personality that had touched
everything around him, and had concealed the almost non
existent material conditions of the home. During the
shivoh, one of our cousins came and told us about an
incident at which he had been present. A meeting of
gedolei Yisroel had been held about some fundamental
matter concerning Klal Yisroel. In the course of the
discussions, our father had leaned towards not accepting the
prevailing opinion of permitting the matter. Someone had
risen and spoken out against Father in a very offensive way.
Our cousin had been extremely shaken and had been ready to
reply in kind and protest against the affront to the Torah's
honor however, our father realized what he wanted to do and
took him by the arm and said, "Yes, one ought to protest but
let's think about how to do it in a meaningful way. Let's go
outside and discuss it."
Our father then began to speak to him gently and to calm
him, not leaving him before he had extracted a promise and a
clear undertaking that he would not mention the matter
during Father's lifetime. And indeed, it was only after
Father's petiroh, during the shivoh, that he
allowed himself to tell us about it. It is worth mentioning
that as he finished telling the story, the rav concerned
arrived to comfort us. Our mother a'h, sent a
whispered message to all of us, "Please, accord him all
fitting honor." When he left our house, our mother told us,
"What I told you to do is exactly what Father would have
wanted you to do at this time."
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