A Story for Shabbat: The Rabbi in the Attic: A Story of Hidden Devotion

It was the middle of the night, and soft rustling sounds could be heard from the attic of Rabbi Nathan Adler’s home in the city of Boskowitz, now in the Czech Republic. Rabbi Nathan, lovingly called “The Great Eagle” (Adler means eagle in Yiddish), was deep in Torah study with his devoted student, Rabbi Moshe Sofer later known as the holy Chatam Sofer.

To understand what happened next, we need to know a bit of the background. In those days, the study of Kabbalah, the deep, mystical teachings of the Torah was very rare among Ashkenazi Jews in Europe. But Rabbi Nathan was a master of this sacred wisdom. He followed the teachings of the holy Zohar and the Arizal (Rabbi Yitzchak Luria), shaping his customs around their deep spiritual insights. To many Jews who didn’t understand this, Rabbi Nathan seemed strange, and he was often mocked and harassed.

So when he heard a noise in the attic that night, he thought it might be someone coming to bother him. He sent his student Rabbi Moshe, known not just for his Torah knowledge but also for his strength, to go upstairs and see what was happening.

The attic was no ordinary attic. It had been turned into a small, secret synagogue. Inside was an aron kodesh (holy ark) and a Torah scroll written in holiness and purity under Rabbi Nathan’s instructions. Here, he prayed with deep kavanot, mystical intentions drawn from the teachings of Kabbalah.

To Rabbi Moshe’s surprise, standing beside the Torah scroll was none other than Rabbi Shmuel Halevi Kelin, the respected rabbi of Boskowitz and the future author of the Machatzit HaShekel, a famous commentary on Jewish law. In his hand was a small hammer, and he was quietly removing the gold decorations from the Torah scroll.

Rabbi Moshe softly cleared his throat. Rabbi Shmuel turned, his eyes filled with tears, and motioned for him to come closer. In a whisper, he explained:

“I’ve learned that someone informed the authorities that Rabbi Nathan is hiding gold and silver. And right now, during this time of war, the government has ruled that anyone caught keeping precious metals in their home will be sentenced to death.

“I couldn’t let Rabbi Nathan fall into danger because of this,” he continued. “So I decided to come quietly and remove the decorations myself. I know it might look like I’m stealing, but I’d rather be misunderstood than let him be hurt. Please don’t tell him what happened. Just let him think everything is under control.”

Rabbi Moshe nodded. The gold was removed, and the scroll placed back safely.

The next morning, as prayers began, soldiers stormed into the synagogue. They had a search warrant for silver vessels, and they were ready to seize anything they found. But they searched in vain. There was nothing. The decorations were already gone. The Machatzit HaShekel had acted just in time.

Rabbi Nathan was troubled by the sudden disappearance of the decorations, but he was deeply thankful that his life had been spared.

Some time passed, and when the danger seemed to have faded, Rabbi Shmuel secretly returned the decorations to the Torah scroll. But the troublemakers in the community discovered this and informed on Rabbi Nathan once again, this time quietly, so that no one would interfere.

During morning prayers, with the Torah scroll resting on the bimah (reading table), its gold once again gleaming, the sound of soldiers’ boots echoed up the stairs.

Rabbi Nathan immediately turned to Rabbi Moshe and placed the scroll in his hands. “Stand in the center of the room,” he told him. “Don’t move.”

Then Rabbi Nathan began to speak. We don’t know exactly what words he said, maybe a prayer, maybe a plea but when the soldiers entered, something extraordinary happened. Though Rabbi Moshe was standing in plain sight, holding the scroll, the soldiers didn’t seem to see him at all. They searched everywhere, turned over chairs and closets but they never noticed the scroll or the young man holding it.

Once again, Rabbi Nathan was saved.

Eventually, the authorities realized that the accusations against him were false and malicious, and they stopped listening to the slander. His enemies were silenced, and Rabbi Nathan was left in peace.

This story reminds us that Hashem watches over those who serve Him with truth, and that sometimes the greatest acts of courage are the quietest ones, like a friend who risks being misunderstood to protect a tzaddik, or a student who stands silently holding a sacred scroll, hidden in plain sight.

May the memory of Rabbi Nathan Adler, whose yahrzeit is on the 29th of Tevet, be a blessing for all of us.