Rabbi Yosef Waltuch: The Holy Street Sweeper of Tel Aviv

At just eight years old, Rabbi Yosef Waltuch moved with his family to the Holy Land and settled in the Old City of Jerusalem. Tragically, he lost his mother at a young age. But even as a child, he threw himself into Torah learning with heart and soul. He studied at the famous Etz Chaim Yeshiva and was often seen learning for 14 to 18 hours a day. He was never spotted walking without a sefer (holy book) in hand.

By age thirteen, Rabbi Yosef was already learning the deep and mystical teachings of the Etz Chaim by the Arizal. He trained himself to live with humility and secretly began attending the Beit El Yeshiva, where he observed the holy practices of the Kabbalists. Every step he took followed the guidance of the Zvhiler Rebbe, Rabbi Shlomo Goldman.

He lived with simplicity and holiness. Rabbi Yosef slept very little, often dozing off while still learning Torah and refused to sleep in a bed. He would wake up early to pray vatikin (sunrise prayers) and wore four sets of tefillin each day: Rashi, Rabbeinu Tam, Raavad, and Shimusha Rabba, a rare and especially holy custom. He had a different study partner for each area of Torah, and he grasped every subject with remarkable speed. He was known to master every part of Torah—peshat (simple meaning), remez (allusion), drash (interpretation), and sod (mysticism). Every time he finished learning a Kabbalistic sefer, he marked it as “reviewed” and signed his name “Yosef Waltuch, grandson of the Maggid of Zlotshov,” since he was a descendant of the great Rebbe Yechiel Michel of Zlotshov. Sometimes, out of his deep love for the Holy City, he simply signed, “Yosef Waltuch, man of Jerusalem.”

Not long after he got married, his wife became ill and was hospitalized until she passed away. Yet, he continued to serve Hashem with strength and never showed sadness on his face. He moved to Ussishkin Street in Tel Aviv, where he lived a hidden life. To earn a living, he worked as a street cleaner at night. On one street, boys would throw stones at him but he would simply smile and say, “Thank you very much.”

He would travel long distances to pray at the graves of tzaddikim (righteous Jews), even when it meant risking danger. He often visited the Western Wall, even when it was under Jordanian control, and would make special trips to Meron to pray at the tomb of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. Every week, he visited the home of the Kabbalist Rabbi Mordechai Sharabi and would also meet with other holy figures like Rabbi Meir Abuchatzeira and the Lelover Rebbe, Rabbi Moshe Mordechai Biderman.

Rabbi Yosef longed to find hidden tzaddikim living in our time. He once asked the Kabbalist Ben Zion Moshe Yair Weinstock to record the address of every Jew who came to buy rare Kabbalah books and then asked to personally deliver the books to them. He always carried two simple bags looped over his wrists, filled with ancient and rare Kabbalistic texts. He never held them in his palms because he was careful to follow the practice of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, never lowering his hands beneath his belt.

He respected every Jewish tradition and was puzzled by people who abandoned the customs of their ancestors. He guarded his eyes with great care and avoided sinful influences. He was gifted with spiritual visions. He would see the Prophet Eliyahu at every brit milah (circumcision) and once saw our Mother Rachel, wrapped in black, during a prayer for the coming of the Redemption.

He became known as someone who could see hidden truths and perform miracles, including removing harmful spirits from people. Yet, he always tried to hide his spiritual greatness.

Even though he suffered from a painful intestinal illness, Rabbi Yosef served Hashem with true joy and energy. Each month, he gave tzedakah to those in need. When someone came to him for a blessing, he would warmly say, “All the salvations!”

After the passing of his beloved friend, Rabbi Meir Abuchatzeira, in 1983, Rabbi Yosef felt he could no longer be without him. On a Saturday night, he attended a celebration for Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai and mentioned that a great yahrzeit (anniversary of passing) would occur on the following Tuesday, the 35th day of the Omer. That Tuesday, he traveled to pray at the graves of righteous people in the Galilee. After leaving Meron, he didn’t feel well. At the Idra Cave, he again said he felt sick and asked for soda. In Tzfat, they brought him soda water, and suddenly he fainted. He was taken to the hospital, where his holy soul returned to its Maker. The next morning, he was buried on the Mount of Olives.

Rabbi Ben Zion Mutzafi, head of the Bnei Zion Yeshiva, was close with Rabbi Yosef and remembers him with deep love. “He was a legend in Torah, a true chassid (devout Jew), humble and hidden, someone who endured many hardships,” he says. “He passed away suddenly in 1983, while traveling from Meron to Tzfat.”

Rabbi Mutzafi recalls learning with him: “He was like a jar overflowing with all types of Torah—Talmud, Midrash, Zohar, halachah, ethics, Kabbalah. He knew the details of every great sage and Torah leader in every generation. He honored the living and the dead alike with deep respect.”

“Despite years of pain and loneliness, he never complained. He wandered with his tallit (prayer shawl), tefillin, and books, often alone. His wife was ill and hospitalized, and he spent Shabbats and holidays by himself, in holiness and simplicity. He didn’t even have anyone to help him with basic needs like washing his socks.”

“He was holy. He was great. And he didn’t want anyone to praise or even notice him.”

Rabbi Mutzafi then shares an incredible story: “Many years ago, there was a custom in Israel for kibbutzim and moshavim to hold long walks during the Passover season. These walks were coed. Men, women, boys and girls slept outdoors and sadly, people would stumble into inappropriate behavior.”

“One year, it rained for two straight days before Pesach. The last walk took place during this rain, and the crowds scattered. The event usually ended in Jerusalem with dancing and celebration. People even came from abroad. I remember a 90-year-old man from Holland who wore medals from countries around the world.”

“That day, I saw Rabbi Yosef at the Western Wall, which wasn’t his usual custom. He had planned to learn with a hidden tzaddik elsewhere, so I asked why he came. He said quietly, ‘Please don’t tell anyone. I came to daven (pray) that this walk, which causes so much spiritual harm, will be canceled.’ From that year onward, the walk stopped and was forgotten.”

Rabbi Yosef Waltuch passed away on the 20th of Iyar, when he was 62. May his memory bless us, and may his good deeds continue to protect us."