The Rebuilding of the “Churva” 

Did you ever wonder why our shuls are designed the way they are? Why there’s an Aron Kodesh, a bimah, even a curtain? The answer goes all the way back to the Holy Temple.

The Churvah 

About fifteen years ago, a new synagogue was dedicated—or perhaps I should say rededicated—in the Old City of Jerusalem. 

Now, a new synagogue or even an old synagogue in the Old City of Jerusalem is not really a big deal. I mean, the Old City is full of synagogues of all ages. 

But this particular dedication was reported in the media throughout the world. Even the President at the time showed interest. The name of this synagogue is the Churva Synagogue— and behind the name is hidden a very interesting story which began over 300 years ago. 

The synagogue is called “The Churva,” which means “The Ruin.” Behind that name is a powerful story that began over 300 years ago.

In the year 1700, a Jewish leader named Rabbi Yehuda HaChassid led a group of 233 Jews from Russia to settle in the Land of Israel. It was one of the largest organized waves of immigration in centuries. They made their way to the Old City of Jerusalem, which at the time had a small Sephardic community. With their arrival, the Jewish population of the city nearly doubled overnight.

Almost immediately, the group purchased land and received permission to build a synagogue and housing for their families.

But this ambitious project required significant funding—and in those days, that meant not only construction costs, but also paying bribes and securing favors. To cover it all, they borrowed large sums from local Arab lenders at high interest rates.

Tragically, not long after their arrival, Rabbi Yehuda HaChassid passed away at the young age of 40. Without his leadership, the group began to fall apart. Some members returned abroad, others moved to different cities, and those who stayed in Jerusalem found themselves facing growing financial difficulties.

In an effort to save the community, the remaining members sent one representative abroad to raise funds. But time passed—twenty years—and the local Arab lenders lost patience.

In 1721, they took matters into their own hands. They burned down the synagogue, destroying everything inside—Torah scrolls, prayer shawls, sacred books—everything.

As if that weren’t enough, they expelled all the Ashkenazi Jews from the Old City, seized their homes and property as “partial payment,” and issued a harsh decree: until the full debt was repaid, no Ashkenazi Jew would be allowed to live in the Old City. Anyone who tried would be put to death.

From that point on, the site of the synagogue became known as “The Ruin of Rabbi Yehuda HaChassid,” or simply—the Churva.

And for over a hundred years, not a single Ashkenazi Jew dared to live in the Old City of Jerusalem.

The Second Round

Around the year 1810, a large wave of immigration arrived from Russia—this time, a group known as the Perushim. These were deeply committed scholars, students of the Vilna Gaon, who had separated themselves from much of worldly life in order to devote themselves entirely to Torah study.

They, too, longed to settle in Jerusalem’s Old City. But the ban against Ashkenazi Jews was still in place, so they initially established themselves in Tzfat—also known in English as Safed.

But slowly, a few began to sneak into the Old City, disguising themselves as Sephardim. Bit by bit, more followed, until it became clear that Ashkenazim were returning—and something had to be done.

The community sent a delegation to Istanbul, the capital of the Ottoman Empire, which ruled over the Land of Israel at the time. After much effort, they succeeded. The law was overturned, and Ashkenazi Jews were officially allowed back into the Old City.

With that success, the dream of rebuilding the Churva synagogue was revived. This time, the community wanted to build something grand—tall, magnificent, and worthy of its legacy.

There was, however, a problem. According to Ottoman law, no building was permitted to be taller than a local mosque. But the Jewish community wanted their synagogue to rise just as high.

And so, according to tradition, one night the entire community came together, and in a single night, they constructed the massive dome—the highest point of the building—even before most of the walls were completed. By morning, the dome was already standing. At that point, it was too late for objections, and the structure was allowed to remain as built.

In 1865, the Churva was rededicated for the second time. It quickly became the heart of Jewish life in Jerusalem—and, in many ways, in the entire Land of Israel. Major gatherings were held there. The greatest rabbis of the time visited and delivered sermons there. It was there that the first Chief Rabbi of the Holy Land—long before the modern State of Israel—was officially appointed.

For about eighty years, the Churva stood as a central symbol of Jewish presence in the Holy Land.

In 1948, during Israel’s War of Independence, tragedy struck once again. Just one day before the Jews were expelled from the Old City of Jerusalem, the Jordanian army deliberately blew up the Churva synagogue. It was a symbolic gesture of victory over the Jewish presence in the city.

And so, the Churva was destroyed a second time.

The Third Rebuilding

Nearly twenty years later, in 1967, when the Old City returned to Jewish hands during the Six Day War, soldiers found the ruins still standing. At that time, for reasons still unclear, the Israeli government chose not to rebuild the synagogue. Instead, they erected a single stone arch near the original site, as a memorial to “Rabbi Yehuda HChassid’s Ruin”—the Churva.

But about a dozen years ago, the decision was made to restore the synagogue at last.

Since there were no surviving blueprints of the original structure, the restoration team relied on old photographs to recreate it as faithfully as possible. The entire process took nearly eight years.

The building they finally built incorporated parts of the old building together with the new building so that you literally see old and new together. 

During the rebuilding process, an unexpected discovery was made. Beneath the spot where the Aron Kodesh—the ark that held the Torah scrolls—once stood, workers found a cache of hidden weapons. These had been placed there by members of the pre-state Jewish underground, in hopes that they could be used in the defense of the Old City during the 1948 war. In the end, they were never used, because there was no way to notify the trapped Jewish residents about the hidden supply.

So last year, they finally had a rededication ceremony. Of course, the Arabs protested and said that this is just one step away before the Jews try to rebuild the Holy Temple, the Beis Hamikdash, on the Temple Mount. 

A Shul Structure

We are now approaching Tisha B’Av, a time when we mourn the destruction of the Holy Temple. Today, every shul—every synagogue—is meant to remind us of the Beis Hamikdash.

When the prophet Yechezkel speaks about the galus, the exile, he also includes Hashem’s promise that He will not abandon His people: “And I have become for them a minor sanctuary” (Yechezkel 11:16). On this, the Sages comment: “‘Minor sanctuary’ refers to synagogues, where G-d promised that He would be with them and listen to their prayers.”

This is why even the layout of a synagogue is designed to resemble and recall the Beis Hamikdash.

Just like the Aron, the Ark of the Covenant, was kept in the Kodesh HaKodashim—the Holy of Holies—in the Beis Hamikdash, so too, at the front of every shul, there is an Aron Kodesh, an ark, where the Torah scrolls are placed.

Just like there was a curtain that separated the Kodesh from the Kodesh HaKodashim in the Beis Hamikdash, so too there is a curtain covering the Aron in every shul.

And just like there was a mizbeach, an altar, in the center of the Beis Hamikdash, so too, in the center of every shul, there is a bimah—a raised platform where we place and read from the Torah. It even has steps leading up to it, just like the mizbeach had a ramp that the kohanim would ascend.

Additionally, just like the Menorah stood on the southern side of the Beis Hamikdash, we light our Chanukah menorahs along the southern wall of the shul.

In many synagogues, you’ll also find a table for Torah study, or sometimes even a bit of herring and a l’chayim, placed along the northern wall. Why? Because in the Beis Hamikdash, the Shulchan—the table that held the lechem hapanim, the showbread—stood on the north side as well.

And above all that, in many shuls, the women’s section, the Ezras Nashim, is located on an upper level or balcony. This, too, traces back to the Beis Hamikdash. The Mishnah tells us that during the Second Temple era, during the holiday of Sukkos, when the entire nation came to Jerusalem to celebrate the Simchas Beis Hashoeivah—the Water-Drawing Festival—a balcony was erected in the courtyard so that the women could stand above and look down at the celebrations taking place below.

 In Conclusion

And that brings me back to the Churva Synagogue.

This unique shul, which has been destroyed not once but twice, reflects the story of the Beis Hamikdash more than any other. Just like the Beis Hamikdash was built and destroyed twice, so too was the Churva.

And just as the Churva has now been rebuilt a third time, so too we hope and pray that Moshiach will come, and that we will soon merit to build the third and final Beis Hamikdash—speedily in our days. Amen.