What’s Black & White and Black & White and Khaki?

January 1, 2020 was a very cold day in Northern New Jersey, made even colder by swirling, strong winds. If someone had asked how to find me in the crowd of 80,000+ Jewish men and a few women gathered in MetLife stadium that day, all they’d have to do is look for the one guy wearing khaki in a sea of black suits. This was a place I never imagined myself being, yet there I was, possibly the only “liberal” Jew in a stadium of Shomer Shabbat participants.

In 2012, I, along with thousands of others across the Jewish world, embarked on a new cycle of Daf Yomi (translation: “a page a day”), a seven-and-a-half year long program during which participants study one entire page of Talmud every day without taking any days off for vacation, good behavior, kvetching, or any other excuse. At the end of that time, the full review of the Talmud (often referred to as SHAS, an acronym for “Shisha S’darim,” which refers to the six orders of the Mishnah and Talmud), is complete.

Participating in this endeavor had never been a goal of mine, and in fact it wasn’t until well into the program that I began to feel I might be able to complete it. I had studied bits and pieces of the Talmud a few times before and often found myself struggling to maintain interest in what I felt were often irrelevant topics to modern life. While I was raised in a traditional (albeit liberal) Jewish home, Talmud study was just not on the menu. But thanks to the subtle coaxing of Rabbi Raphael Leban of Denver, Colorado, a person I greatly admire and have come to call a friend, I agreed to join a study group at the outset of the new Daf Yomi cycle.

One 5:40 a.m. study session turned into two 5:40 a.m. study sessions, which turned into four 5:40 a.m. study sessions, and the next thing I knew, seven-and-a-half years had passed. Suddenly, it was January 1, 2020, the Daf Yomi cycle was almost complete, and it was time to celebrate at a massive gathering, called a “Siyyum,” in Northern New Jersey!

So why did I stick with this commitment and follow through with years of daily Talmud study? Something inside me drove me forward. Maybe it was a latent quest to increase my Jewish knowledge. Maybe it was a subconscious desire to learn more about the rabbis and sages of the Mishnah and Talmud (which turned out to be true, but I did not know it at the time). Maybe it was one of those little Kabbalistic sparks floating around the universe that somehow landed in my cup of coffee one morning. Most likely it was the community of learners around me, but who knows? It happened.

Throughout my time participating in Daf Yomi (and in the six years since), I have often contemplated writing down a few thoughts about my experience and sharing some of the lessons that I have stuck with me. It is surprising to me that my takeaways weren’t about ancient times or kashrut or halacha (religious law), all of which are important and critical to Talmudic thought—instead, they were about process, life, values, memory, and community.

So, after much reflection, I am finally sharing a few of the recurring thoughts that remain important and relevant—and that I hope will stay with me for the rest of my life (and might be important to future Daf learners):

• To truly grasp what it means to be Jewish, a Jew needs to have at least some basic understanding of the Talmud. Like any intellectual pursuit, failing to know the fundamentals leads to error and misunderstanding. Can you become a doctor without taking Bio 101? Of course not, and completing that course is only the beginning of becoming a practicing physician. So how can we expect to understand what Judaism has to say about life’s great questions without taking time to study Torah and incorporate great Jewish texts into our thinking? We can’t.
• Although initially I felt somewhat alone sitting in MetLife Stadium in my khaki pants, I soon realized I was not alone at all. My apprehension quickly evaporated, and I felt an overwhelming amount of warmth despite it being such a cold day. I was welcomed at the Siyyum just like I had been every day of my Daf Yomi experience by Rabbi Leban and those far more knowledgeable, observant, and righteous than I had ever dreamed of being. Rabbi Leban—like many who teach Talmud—was able to bring excitement, insight, and to assist our group in maintaining a keen interest in learning, even when some of the daily discussions were esoteric, hard to relate to, or comprehend. Secular Jews need to know that the Talmud is NOT just for those wearing black and white—it is for ALL of us—and Daf Yomi is for anyone interested in studying and learning more about their own Jewish life. If my experience was typical, I believe most people in the stadium that day would have loved to welcome more khaki into the audience. Torah and Talmud were given to ALL Jews, and the observant community would be the first to send you that message.
• Based on hundreds of years of dialog, arguments, and decisions, in my opinion the men of the Talmud were brilliant. Influenced by their female partners and ancient communities, these sages made their insightful commentaries and teachings without the modern resources we have at our fingertips, such as extensive research libraries, a wide range of written commentaries, online resources, and academic university resources. Although we may wonder how their sometimes surprising and (to me) unpredictable thoughts and rulings came to be, we must remind ourselves that it is not easy to reconcile current knowledge and thought with the mindsets of those who lived 1500+ years ago. Doubters, including me from time to time, must move past this time gap and look for the light—the ability to seek a closer relationship to God—using the teachings the rabbis have gifted to us. Their insights into our short lives on earth and in the “World to Come” are, for me, a life-affirming ongoing process.
• Like all of us, the sages had lives outside of studying Torah. They were farmers, doctors, teachers, vintners, fathers, sons, etc. But unlike many of us, they found time to prioritize the study of Torah into their lives. They understood that they were constantly connected to God, and they allowed everything they did to be consumed and bettered by this knowledge. They were driven to bring Torah into the often very dark worlds that surrounded them. This was no easy assignment in those days when life’s daily activities took even longer than they do today, as no microwaves, rideshares, or App-driven meal delivery services were available to our sages or their students.
• During the writing of the Talmud and in the years leading up to it, the Jewish people often seemed to have lived by an entirely different set of ethics than the non-Jewish communities surrounding them. This depended on the particular scenario and situation, location, and time frame of each particular Jewish community throughout history. Even with all the tools we now have, it takes great courage and fortitude to push back against evil, anger, awful customs, greed, and power. When the surrounding communities were not friendly and more militarily powerful, imagine how difficult it must have been for the Jews of Talmudic times to lead lives that remained true to their ideals; it reinforces to me how truly extraordinary they were.
• Over my seven-and-a-half years of Daf Yomi learning, I went through some challenging personal and professional moments. Daily study helped me through these difficult times, serving as a guide to my own thinking and, when needed, healing. One example of this was to better grasp how to understand loss and to systematically grieve through a healing process as described within the Talmud. What’s more, the Talmud’s structure serves as a kind of a road map, offering guardrails against the unknown fears that we all possess. For example, prior to my study I observed and, on occasion, sat shiva, but I was not knowledgeable about how and why we as Jews grieved in the way we traditionally do. Discussing the Talmud with Rabbi Leban and others in my group gave me an opportunity to reflect on my own being, my own soul, and my own mortality.
• I imagine I am no different than those who, throughout the ages of our People from the time of the Talmud onward, wondered how to cope with the impact of antisemitism and anti-Zionism. Recent tragedies in our community and, in fact, in most minority communities have been so difficult that we often feel helpless. What is one individual to do to affect change? The Talmud teaches each of us to resist the impulses of the Yetzer Hara (evil inclination). The sages have advised us to continue learning and living based on Torah, despite the evil that surrounds us. I have no better ideas.
• Perhaps the most important gift Daf Yomi gave me was an hour of sacred, holy time every day. Finding spiritual moments in our busy, confusing, and complicated world is challenging for most of us, so much so that many do not even try. But the rabbis had it right—the practice of daily learning changes everything. That sacred time, when my outside world stopped so I could learn, think, and concentrate on TODAY changed my life forever. While this practice is still not always at the top of my mind, I try harder. What’s more, Daf Yomi was fun! It challenged me to think and better comprehend our sages process and their associated decisions, rulings, and Jewish laws.

As Jews, we are always supposed to be striving to become closer to God, though we may not always know the best way to accomplish that. I did not author this essay with the goal of convincing people to join the next Daf Yomi cycle (which starts in 2027), or even to start a regular Torah study practice. My hope is only that my message drives you to explore various Jewish text study possibilities with an open mind and know that regardless of your place of comfort in Jewish life, you are WELCOME and should feel safe in engaging in the learning most suited to your interests. Looking at a library full of oversized Jewish texts may seem overwhelming for those who have not yet studied, but if you give it time and take it slowly, it will become increasingly comfortable, and I believe you will be much better off for it. As the rabbis say, all you need to do is “pick a partner, pick a place, and start.”  I recommend you also find your own Rabbi Leban—it will make your experience so much more meaningful.

So, now I’m off to my next project, setting up a khaki pants store in Mea Shearim. I hear it’s an untapped market.

Stuart Raynor has served in executive leadership roles in both for-profit and non-profit institutions, most recently in several major metropolitan Jewish communities. He currently serves as a consultant with Amplify Partners to non-profit organizations, specializing in operations, financial resource development, and organizational turnarounds.