A tiny architectural jewel nestled within the picturesque jumble of Jerusalem’s Nahlaot neighborhood, the Ades Synagogue preserves the traditional craftsmanship and liturgy of Jewish Aleppo

Fortuitously situated by the Mahane Yehuda open-air market, Jerusalem’s trendy Nahlaot district is a picturesque maze of alleyways. The odor of fresh fish rising from the stalls mingles with the comforting aromas of hummus and bourekas, attracting more Israelis than tourists, who can’t see how this corner of the Mediterranean offers anything more than Naples, for example. Which is why, if summertime tour guides do end up with their sweaty flock in Nahlaot, they head straight for its most unique – and air-conditioned – landmark: the Ades Synagogue.

Funded by the Ades family of Aleppo, Syria, the synagogue is an architectural gem built in 1901 as part of the Nahalat Zion section of the area. (Practically every block in Nahlaot was built separately and named for someone else. There are thirty-two such “neighborhoods,” eighteen of which went up between 1875 and 1900.)

The synagogue’s boxlike Jerusalem-stone exterior is misleading, especially in view of the grandiose sign on the building: “The Great Ades Synagogue of the Aleppo Community, from the City That Was the Crowning Glory of All Syrian Jewry. Founded 5661.” (See “By the By”) Experienced guides go straight through the modest iron gate, past the myriad marble memorial plaques, and then savor their groups’ oohing and aahing over the magnificent ornamentation gracing the synagogue interior.

The magnificent ark spans the entire eastern wall. Ades Synagogue, Nahalat Zion, Jerusalem | Photo: Tamar Hayardeni

Wandering Ark

The Ades Synagogue is Syrian Jewry’s main center in Nahlaot, although the community maintains a smaller branch nearby, in the Beit Midrash of Aaron Silvera, right next to the market. Both proudly preserve Syrian and specifically Aleppo Jewry’s rich aesthetic and liturgical legacy in Jerusalem.

Albert-Abraham Antébi lived in the city circa 1900. Born in Damascus but with deep family roots in Aleppo, he was fortunate to be both director of the Alliance Israélite Universelle and representative of Baron Hirsch’s new Jewish Colonization Association (JCA) in Jerusalem. Unfazed by conflict of interest, Antébi conveniently orchestrated the Alliance’s 1891 sale of land for another JCA mini-neighborhood in Nahlaot. He then offered attractive mortgages for all the plots in what was to become Nahalat Zion, enabling poorer members of his community to own their own one-and-a-half-room home complete with kitchen and bathroom. No wonder Nahalat Zion was soon nicknamed “Little Aleppo.”

Yosef and Ovadiah Ades were among Nahalat Zion’s better-off residents. Having made a fortune in Egypt, they spent it building a small but exquisite spiritual palace for their Jerusalem congregation. The original inscription from 1901 still proudly announces that the synagogue was erected “with the generous donation of its honorable officers, both valued above the purest gold,” in memory of their grandparents and in honor of “the Aleppo congregation, may it be established in righteousness in the Nahalat Zion neighborhood, in the Holy City of Jerusalem.”

The doors of the Ades Synagogue honor its generous patrons, Yosef and Ovadiah Ades of Aleppo | Photo: Yehonatan Tsahor, Israel Antiquities Authority

The synagogue’s jaw-droppingly beautiful eastern wall is almost completely taken up by a stunning ark, carved from dark walnut inlaid with mother-of-pearl, bronze, and ivory. It’s decorated with geometric patterns and arabesques, peaking at the center with the Ten Commandments.

The beadles recollect how the Ades clan paid thousands of lire for this work of art in Damascus, then had it dismantled, loaded onto camels, and transported to its destination by the same caravan that brought the family from Aleppo to Jerusalem. Apart from totally overlooking the Ades brothers’ long sojourn in Egypt, this tall tale contradicts claims that the ark was made in the land of Israel by artisans originally from Damascus, with no Bactrian involvement whatsoever.

From Wood to Stone

In the Ades Synagogue, as in most Oriental synagogues, the bima (the reader’s platform and lectern) stands in the center, surrounded by padded wooden benches. The original (another Damascene import courtesy of the Ades brothers) was a masterpiece of walnut marquetry to match the ark – until some Judaica-loving burglar made off with it one night. Its replacement, a stone mosaic dais, was definitely something of a comedown.