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July 04, 2008
Ariel and Daf Yomi
Today, 1 Tammuz, is Ariel Chaim's ZT'L fifth Yahrtzeit.
In honor of our son's memory we're publishing an excerpt from The Book of Ariel that recounts the period when Ariel taught Daf Yomi—the daily page of Talmud.
In the summer of 2001, Rabbi Yosef Furman asked Ariel to substitute for him at the Daf Yomi class the good Rabbi taught at Yeshiva University Los Angeles on Shabbos afternoon.
Initially, Ariel hesitated, modest to the core, he did not believe that he was learned enough to teach Gemarah to a group of highly learned and dedicated adults. But Karen and I gently reminded Ariel that if he was thinking of going into Jewish education this would be a perfect opportunity to hone his skills as a teacher. Besides, we told him, you are an incredible Torah scholar, definitely up to the task.
And so, in addition to his already heavy learning schedule, Ariel prepared for the upcoming Shabbos and his first Daf Yomi class. After he went over the page of Talmud, he studied the commentary of the primary Torah and Talmud medieval exegete Rashi, and the lengthy, complex glosses of the Tosafot.
I reminded Ariel that in Daf Yomi we usually don’t delve into the commentaries, but perfectionist that he was, Ariel said:
“Yes, but I have to understand the Gemarah if I’m to teach it and do a good job.”
Here is the first page of the Babylonian Talmud, as it appears in the standard Vilna edition. The standardized pagination follows that of the third Bomberg edition, Venice, 1548. Pages are numbered by folio. This page is Berakhoth 2a—that is, the first side of folio 2 in the tractate Berakhoth, "Blessings".
Several times that week before the first class, Ariel called Karen's father, Rabbi Pinchas Singer ZT'L , to ask his beloved grandfather to clarify a difficult passage in the Talmud. Sometimes they would spend hours on the phone, Ariel carefully taking copious notes with his favorite fountain pen.
Ariel was more than prepared; he was hyper-prepared.
As we walked to the the class—at the time it was in a back room in the Washington Bank on Pico Boulevard—Ariel fretted that maybe he really wasn’t the right man for the job.
“Who do I talk to?” he asked.
“Try and maintain eye contact with everyone, do a slow scan around the table and then do it again.”
“What happens if I have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the class?”
Go right before class begins and then if you have to again, just excuse yourself. They won’t hold it against you.”
“What happens if someone asks me a question and I don’t know the answer?”
“Admit that you don’t know, but that you’ll look it up and have the answer at the next class.”
“What happens if I faint?”
“What do you mean, are you feeling—?”
“Just kidding.” Ariel grinned.
The men who attended the Daf Yomi class were familiar; an assortment of friends and neighbors, all with warm and inviting smiles. Also in the class were several strangers whom Ariel recognized from the Beis Midrash. Ariel whispered to me that they were acknowledged Torah scholars, a good deal more learned than he.
Relax,” I told him, “you’ll do fine.”
My stomach was churning; the massive anxieties of a loving and doting father.
Ariel opened the massive Gemarah, scanned the page, looked up at the dozen expectant men at the table and smiled. He thanked them for giving him the opportunity to learn with them. And then Ariel dived right into the Gemarah.
He chanted the text in a lovely sing-song and translated from the Aramaic to English. His words and explanations flowed like water. I really didn’t hear what he was saying for I was relieved, happy—and so insanely proud that my cognitive abilities just shut down.
Is there a greater happiness for a Jewish father than to witness his son transmitting the Torah, our eternal traditions, with such love and exactitude?
A difficult section absorbed everyone’s attention. But Ariel managed to make sense of it.
Abruptly, a particularly learned man—everyone called him Rabbi—asked a particularly complex question. Clearly, a difficult point needed to be clarified. Ariel frowned, hunched over his Gemarah. He appeared baffled and I waited for Ariel to admit that he did not know. Better to admit ignorance than to try and fake it. The class would see through any pretense. The seconds slipped by and several men shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
And then Ariel nodded his head, just once but with perfect certainty. I recognized that nod and smiled inwardly.
Ariel answered in soft, measured terms, weighing each word. His explanation was crystal clear and the man who asked the question smiled, satisfied, and all around the table the men of the Daf Yomi looked at me and smiled, tacitly letting me know that my son, Ariel, was the real thing, a true scholar and teacher of Torah.
Walking home, Ariel said, “How’d I do, Daddy?”
I did not answer.
“Daddy, are you crying?”
“No, I’ve just got something in my eye.”
We walked home without speaking another word. There are times when silence is far more eloquent than language.
How to Navigate a Page of Talmud
Karen and I wish all our friends a magnificent Fourth of July and a lovely and peaceful Shabbat.
Posted by Robert J. Avrech at July 4, 2008 06:27 AM
Comments
Seraphic Secret is private property, that's right, it's an extension of our home, and as such, Karen and I have instituted two Seraphic Rules and we ask commentors to act respectfully.
1. No profanity.2. No Israel bashing. We debate, we discuss, we are respectful. You know what Israel bashing is. The world is full of it. Seraphic Secret is one of the few places in the world that will not tolerate this form of anti-Semitism. That's it. Break either of these rules and you will be banned.
What a beautiful tribute, Robert, to a genuinely beautiful mind. You were, and are, right to be proud of your son.
More than ever, I wish I could have met Ariel in this life. May his memory be a blessing and a comfort to your family.
Posted by: DrCarol at July 4, 2008 08:31 AM
"Is there a greater happiness for a Jewish father than to witness his son transmitting the Torah, our eternal traditions, with such love and exactitude?"
No.
Last year, my son, aged 10, asked out-of-the-blue if he could lead P'sukai D'zimrah on Shabbos at our shule. It's not quite on the same level as what Ariel did, but I understand that feeling, and you put it into words that are so beautiful...and heart-rending, because I can't even begin to fathom how much you must miss Ariel.
But that is just a wonderful tribute, Robert, and I am glad I had a chance to read it before Shabbos. I'll think of it when I sit in shule this weekend.
Posted by: Maurice at July 4, 2008 08:53 AM
What a lovely story. The pride that you felt for your son that day was truly deserved.
May Ariel's memory be a blessing always.
Posted by: Raizy at July 4, 2008 09:52 AM
What a beautiful memory of your very special son. It brought tears to my eyes. As always Robert, thank you for sharing.
Posted by: Katie B. at July 4, 2008 10:33 AM
May his memory continue to be a blessing; a wonderful story, Robert.
Posted by: Ezzie at July 4, 2008 11:18 AM
May your home be especially full today and this Shabbos.
Posted by: Jeremiah at July 4, 2008 11:37 AM
Thank you for sharing such a lovely memory.
May Ariel's soul have an aliyah...
May Ariel's memory be a blessing and inspriration.
Shabbat Shalom.
Posted by: Lance at July 4, 2008 12:02 PM
May Ariel's neshama have an aliyah.
I wrote and published the following poem a couple of years ago, and I recall having had Ariel -- and others -- in my mind when I wrote it.
SOUL LIGHT
I place the tin candle holder on the tray,
light a match
and hold it steadily at the candle's wick --
watching as the flame slowly comes to life,
rising higher and higher.
This candle, this soul light,
will burn for at least twenty-four hours.
A small window of opportunity
To bring you back to life.
To recreate for others all that you were.
To share with them all that you represented.
To give your neshama a spark once more.
I say a silent prayer and remember.
Posted by: Pearl at July 4, 2008 02:17 PM
Robert--Today is my husband's grandmother's yartzeit as well. She was a wonderful woman and people we don't even know go out of their way to tell my husband how much they loved his grandmother.
You do such a beautiful job of sharing the story of Ariel's life. It is clear that he had a truly special neshama.
May his memory always be a blessing.
Posted by: Fern at July 4, 2008 02:34 PM
Chaim Arukim, the traditional family greeting on this special time. Rena
Posted by: Rena at July 4, 2008 03:49 PM
Thank you for sharing that memory of Ariel with us, Robert.
Posted by: Suz at July 4, 2008 07:51 PM
I miss him terribly, Ariel. Posts like this help, reminding me that now, he's likely sitting and studying the daf with the very people who wrote it.
umacha hashem dimah mei'al kol panim...
Posted by: josh gberg at July 5, 2008 02:57 PM
Robert,
With memories like this, Ariel ז"ל will live forever.
תבצב"ה
Mordechai
Posted by: Mordechai (Morty) Schiller ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.seraphicpress.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at July 6, 2008 01:24 PM
What a poignant description of a your well-deserved nachas in seeing your child becoming a man among men. You have done a marvelous job raising your children, Robert, and that is a achievement that will resonate throughout time, in ways that we cannot begin to comprehend.
Posted by: Barzilai at July 6, 2008 05:07 PM
What a poignant description of a your well-deserved nachas in seeing your child becoming a man among men. You have done a marvelous job raising your children, Robert, and that is an achievement that will resonate throughout time, in ways that we cannot begin to comprehend.
Posted by: Barzilai at July 6, 2008 05:08 PM
I want to thank all those who commented on Robert's entry on Ariel's Yahrzeit. It makes a difference to know that his story has an impact. This anecdote is truly representative of Ariel's character in so many ways, - his yearning for perfection, his hesitancy, his incisive sense of humor, and his sensitivity to all humankind, including his parents.
We, his elders, always expected him to rise to the occasion, courageous, mature beyond his years, wise, and yet modest and innocent of his superior standing amongst his peers.
Robert retold this story at our shul's Sholosh Seudos, dedicated to Ariel this past Shabbos. There was another speaker scheduled for the meal. The caretaker of the LA Eruv, recounted hair-raising,behind the scenes, last minute adventures that save the Eruv from disaster on the weekly seven hour checks. Wouldn't you know it, his partner in these capers, is none other than one of Ariel's best friends! This was a student who was very much influenced by Ariel, and now we had the zechus of hearing how he has become a baal mitvos risking life and limb (well almost) to keep the Eruv intact. So, the whole Shalosh Seudos had an Ariel connection. There are no coincidences!
Posted by: Karen Avrech at July 6, 2008 08:18 PM
In memory of your son, you published a post about Ariel teaching Dafi Yomi that included a link on "How to Navigate a Page of Talmud." Now, at the grand old age of 59, I finally know who the GRA is. Count it as an additional z'chut, merit, to the memory of Ariel, moreh b'Yisrael (a teacher among the Jewish People), may it always be a blessing to you.
Posted by: Shira Salamone at July 7, 2008 08:27 AM
Profoundly moving. You opened up a sub-culture to the general audience which allowed them to appreciate the refinement of your late son.
==========
Readers may be interested in an exhibit on "Printing the Talmud" which appeared at Yeshiva University Museum, now available online. I don't think this got the publicity it deserved.
All items are interesting, but of topical relevence to Mr. Avrech's political blog is exhibit #64.
Posted by: Judd M. at July 7, 2008 10:42 AM
an absolutely wonderful story; thank you so much for sharing it with us.
Posted by: lavender garden at July 13, 2008 10:36 AM
Robert and Karen,
Thank you for this beautiful website and memorial to your incredible son. Your story about Ariel was so touching and it is very inspiring (and wrenching) to read about this noble young man and his character and dedication to Scripture and study. As a Christian and mother of two young adult daughters I am so impressed by how you raised your son. I also want to extend my greatest sympathy, I can not imagine how one goes on but you are also a testimony that one must and ultimately 'love is more jealous than death.' Warm wishes. Sincerely, Elizabeth
Posted by: Elizabeth at July 14, 2008 04:45 PM
To all:
Karen and I deeply appreciate all your kind and generous comments. It is a testament to Ariel's holy neshama, soul.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at July 15, 2008 12:16 PM