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THE RABBINICAL SCHOOL'S BET MIDRASH IS A ROOM WITH MANY VIEWS It's 9:05 a.m. in the Bet Midrash of Hebrew College's new Rabbinical School. An open Torah scroll rests atop a tallit on a cluster of desks at the room's center, surrounded by a horseshoe of student worshipers. Closing his eyes and swaying, Ebn Leader, one of the two Bet Midrash instructors, receives an aliyah. "Baruch atah . . ." Next a visitor approaches the scroll, dips a tallit to the Hebrew lettering beneath the yad and kisses the prayer shawl. Yet without a prayer guide to follow, she waivers. A half-dozen students offer a rainbow of siddurim—thick, pocket-sized, new or worn—to help.
As the shacharit service reaches the tachanun service (supplicatory prayers), Leader realizes time is running short. Encouraging those still praying to finish, he offers them a few silent minutes—to recite the tachanun, meditate or otherwise occupy themselves quietly. A few students sit and cover their faces with tallitot. Others stand, clutching their prayer books. A woman stretches her arms, one at a time, into the air. The first davening space in the otherwise secular learning environment at Hebrew College, the multifaceted Bet Midrash bears the hallmarks of the new Rabbinical School—pluralistic religious and spiritual exploration and critical transdenominational scholarship. Located in Farwell Hall, across Herrick Road from Hebrew College in a space rented from Andover Newton Theological School, the room functions as a chapel, classroom and yeshivah-style house of study. It also offers the rabbinical students—diverse in life experience and Jewish background—the comforts of home.
"We wanted to make the Bet Midrash a place that would be welcoming and provide an atmosphere of warmth, learning and spirituality," says Rabbi Carol Glass. "It's the Jewish version of the Socratic Method," says Dr. Arthur Green, dean of the Rabbinical School and visiting professor of Jewish Mysticism. "Students ask, 'What question is the text asking?' Then, 'Why is it asking this question?' And 'How can this method of questioning help me to get a better understanding of the text?' "We thought we should try to recover, in a contemporary setting, the ancient model of bet midrash study. Our approach to rabbinic education uniquely joins two modes of study. One puts us outside the text, allowing for critical questioning. The other reads the text as an insider, making for a deep and personal relationship with the tradition. This fits our transdenominational character," he says. During the Rabbinical School's intense program of core text, Hebrew, history and Jewish life and practice courses, hevruta (partner) study in the Bet Midrash is akin to an intensive study hall. Students prepare for upcoming classes and follow up on questions raised in previous sessions. "It's the Jewish version of the Socratic Method," says Dr. Arthur Green. "Students ask, 'What question is the text asking?' Then, 'Why is it asking this question?' And 'How can this method of questioning help me to get a better understanding of the text?'" Beyond prayer and study, the Bet Midrash provides a home-away-from-home for students who spend most of their waking hours there; some days begin at 8:00 a.m. and can last until 9:30 p.m. "We wanted to make the Bet Midrash a place that would be welcoming and provide an atmosphere of warmth, learning and spirituality," says Rabbi Carol Glass, dean of students for the Rabbinical School.
On the entry door, flyers announce a Sephardi studies series, a Rabbinic Assembly study on female rabbis and the gender gap, an update on the Women of the Wall, and the boom in the rabbinic job market. Hebrew writing on the white board announces the Torah readers and other prayer participants for tefillah (prayer). In the back corner, students fill their thermoses at the cooler and photocopy texts. They bring in plants, ritual objects and snacks to both sanctify and make the place their communal home. "While there is a great sense of respect for each individual, there is not much sense of private ownership," says mekhinah (preparatory year) student Suzanne Offit Me'ah'96, who contributed one of the Bet Midrash's two mezuzot. "We share texts, developing thoughts, personal ideas, even food." First-year student Channah Gershon brought in the second mezuzah, as well as a shepsul, or ritual washing cup. "It's starting to feel like a home, where the family gathers," she says. The open classroom gracefully morphs from function to function as students and faculty rearrange individual desks and chairs. During hevruta study, the tables remain separate to encourage small-group learning. During prayer and class time, the tables adjoin in the center of the room so that the community can come together. "There's a continuity between attempting to work out a transdenominational mode of praying and a pluralistic mode of learning Tanakh," says Dr. Judith Kates, professor of Jewish women's studies, who regularly shows up early for her Bereishit course in order to participate in tefillot. "I come here because the opportunity to daven with the people I study with is a particular privilege. I appreciate it for my own prayer life." As the service ends, the room begins transforming into a classroom. The makeshift table remains at center, but the chairs circling it are pulled closer. Students open their copies of Tanakh and Bereishit Rabbah and Mikra'ot G'dolot. Papers and books bury the surface of the shared table. Kates, sitting at the table's head, calls the class to attention. "Our study of the Bereishit text is a holistic one," she says.
In an opening ritual, groups of three students begin reciting their five memorized passages from this week's assigned parsha. When the last triad finishes, the class collectively tackles the use of "vayiven" in the creation story of woman. First they ponder Rashi's definition of vayiven. Does it mean physical shape, capacity or chambers? Then Kates turns them to Midrash Rabbah, where vayiven gets tied to bina (understanding) through a pun on two Hebrew roots that sound alike. From there the class ventures into discussions of the evidence for the world being created in the holy language of Hebrew and the quicker maturation of girls over boys. "I think of the Bet Midrash as sacred time. When we are there together, time stands still in the intensity of the moment, learning, teaching and praying," says student Suzanne Offit. "That's not how I read it at all!" one student exclaims, and the class launches into an intense conversation about gender issues. Later, the discussion moves to the human power to grant names, or as Kates explains, "the essential connection between reality and language." Throughout the morning's lesson, comments undulate from one end of the table to the other, students drawing from their personal expertise when a passage irks them, when they have a question about Rashi's interpretation. They take turns reading from and translating into English the original text and the Midrash, both in Hebrew. The level of intensity and commitment is electric; the students' deep sense of accountability charges the conversation. During the recitation of lines at the beginning of class, a female student admonishes herself when she stumbles on a word. The rest of her group encourages her, assuring her that it's okay to falter now and then, but she disagrees. "It must be perfect," she says. "In order for me to learn this, I must get it right." Though the students often disagree with each other—respectfully offering second, third and even fourth definitions of Hebrew words, highlighting nuances of distinction, textual connections and numerous interpretations—they cheerlead one another's progress throughout. When a student reads from a text too softly for others to hear, a chorus of appeals immediately implores her to speak louder. No one wants to miss anything. Each word is too precious. Too much is at stake.
Their goal is not a high GPA; students earn no grades in the Rabbinical School. What they strive for is mastery of biblical, rabbinic, medieval and modern text and commentary; Hebrew language; and Jewish religious life, all from a wide range of perspectives. Class participation and individual conferences with professors measure their progress. The challenge of the curriculum—and the draw—is the transdenominational mix of assumptions and beliefs that students wrestle with as each defines his or her place along the Jewish spectrum as a future rabbi. In so doing, they develop a respect for differing views and a strong sense of what it takes to strengthen Jewish community. "It's a very difficult enterprise, to take seriously these different modes of interpretation and have a coherent discussion," says Kates. "It requires a lot of work on the part of the students—to learn and use these languages of interpretation. "We're not just adding different ingredients and stirring. I'm trying to enable discussion among traditional and modern voices in text interpretation. I'm trying to offer students a pluralistic experience of studying Tanakh." Kates's class over, the desks and chairs come apart to create individual study areas. Bet Midrash study time is scheduled from 11:15 a.m. to 2:15 p.m. Monday through Thursday and Thursday evenings from 7:30 to 9:30 p.m. During these sessions, students use the room as a library, albeit a noisy one. Text surrounds them physically—open on desks, closed on bookshelves—and vocally—through preparation and recitation. The students converge in hevrutot, leaning into texts, their heads covered in traditional kipot, elaborate skullcaps, baseball hats, a beret. Or Rose, the other Bet Midrash instructor, circles the room. He moves from one cluster to another, venturing often to bookshelves to find textual evidence in the Shulkhan Arukh or The Guide of the Perplexed for students searching beyond their texts-at-hand for answers. Across hevrutot, one student asks another, "Do you still need Rashi or can I have him?"
First-year student Stephen Landau adds: "We bring to class questions that come up in hevruta and likewise bring to hevruta questions that come up in class." With Leader, Rose guides students in the informal selection of hevruta partners. They encourage diversification, reminding students to consider a number of intangibles—personality, learning style—in addition to the tangibles—skill level, project assignment—when choosing study buddies. "I ask whether they want to be pushed in one way or complemented in another?" Rose says, adding that "regardless, hevruta will yield fruitful learning experiences that they can't get alone." The resulting groups are diversified along class lines—including mekhinah and first-year students—and often span generations as well. The challenge of the curriculum—and the draw—is the transdenominational mix of assumptions and beliefs that students wrestle with as each defines his or her place along the Jewish spectrum as a future rabbi. In so doing, they develop a respect for differing views and a strong sense of what it takes to strengthen Jewish community. "Encountering a diversity of challenges in bet midrash learning is a very good thing," says Green. "With transdenominational students, it's not a group of people who all have the same assumptions." Indeed, when students come together to study in the Bet Midrash, the reward is in the process as much as the outcome. "When two people study together, the Shekhinah, or God's indwelling presence, is there," says Rabbi Glass. "It's a holy activity; God herself, or himself, is present." For Offit, the holiness extends beyond study: "While I feel a sense of calm, belonging, invitation and excitement each day I enter the room, it is the sight of my precious colleagues that fills my heart with an overwhelming sense of community and support and joy. "I think of the Bet Midrash as sacred time," she says. "When we are there together, time stands still in the intensity of the moment, learning, teaching and praying." |
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Yet the Rabbinical School is not merely a place where ideologies intersect. The rigorous new program combines two methods of study: the western university model of going to class, attending lectures and completing outside reading assignments; and 14 hours a week of supervised Bet Midrash study, during which students prepare and analyze texts, becoming deeply familiar with the language, terminology and gestalt of how the words hold together.
