At a pub in Montclair, Talmud class bends minds — and elbows

by Johanna Ginsberg
NJJN Staff Writer

In the back of a local bar and grill on a cold and snowy January night, 14 people sat around a long table, drinking beer, munching on crudités, and earnestly discussing the fourth chapter of the talmudic tractate of Sanhedrin. Raucous music wafted in from the bar, but it offered almost no distraction to this crowd meeting at Montclair’s The Office.

Three women and eleven men, mostly over 50, and a rabbi (decidedly under 50) labored to understand the chapter’s first mishna, or teaching, which set forth the differences between civil and criminal cases. The mishna described a few principals regarding inquiry and questioning, as well as which participants may change their minds after arguing for or against liability and when.

Of course, as will happen with talmudic discourse, the group often found itself a bit far afield from the original text, whether thrown there by the Talmud’s interjection of a case in conflict with the principal at hand — eliciting a long conversation regarding the dangers of making loans during a sabbatical year — or guided there by Rabbi E. Noach Shapiro’s sudden insight. “Oh dear,” said Shapiro, who was leading the session, “if we can’t postdate a document, how can a ketuba be legal?”

And in the midst of the ancient discourse, there was also the business at hand of drinking beer. Shapiro was obviously unhappy with the Belgian beer he had ordered on a whim. “This Belgian thing is just not working out for me. They put fruit in it,” he said quietly, shaking his head.

The Talmud study group, officially known as Slosh & Drash (“drash” means interpretation or explanation), was holding its fourth monthly session at The Office on Jan. 19. It is not the first Talmud study group in the area, and it may not even win the prize for the most unusual setting (that might go to the class, led by Rabbi Jehiel Orenstein of Congregation Beth El in South Orange, that has met at the Orange Lawn Tennis Club in South Orange).

But for Shapiro, rabbi of the Conservative Congregation Shomrei Emunah in Montclair, meeting in a bar demystifies the text while helping to make the mundane holy.

“Some of these texts are 2,005 years old. You would think by definition, they are inaccessible and remote. But they’re not. That’s just the truth of the Gemara. But sometimes you have to signal that by doing it here, in a bar. People are relaxed, they have their guard down, and they can see this is a vibrant, living, and sacred text…[and] by demystifying the experience of studying Torah, people are better able to encounter its kedusha [holiness].

“In other words,” he continued, “if I am trying to make the claim (which I am) that the principles and majesty of Torah would infuse meaning and beauty into our every day if we would invite her in, then I have to communicate that message by bringing Torah out of the synagogue, away from formality.”

Studying in a bar also helps Shapiro identify with the rabbis of old. “The rabbis were not in ties, sitting in a formal space. They were in the marketplace drinking sludgy coffee or tea or whatever they drank, speaking Torah.”

The venue has also had an unexpected benefit: It attracted participants from other denominations and synagogues. Jane Susswein, 58, a Montclair resident and member of Bnai Keshet, a Reconstructionist congregation in town, saw the session listed in New Jersey Jewish News. “This was neutral territory. I felt comfortable here. I’d be less likely to come to Shomrei Emunah on Shabbat.” Susswein, who has studied Talmud before, said she would return. “I enjoyed it.” She did not, however, drink beer. “I drank hot tea,” she said.

Even members of the congregation were struck by what a difference a space makes. Robert Bildner of Montclair said, “I thought it was a great idea. It’s nice to study while drinking a beer.”

Not everyone immediately felt comfortable with the class. Stuart Freedman of Montclair, a member of Temple Sharey Tefilo-Israel in South Orange, was disappointed initially with the level of discourse, although he said he found it interesting. “I’m accustomed to traditional teaching. It took a while to get into [the text].” Nonetheless, he said, he’d come back.

And there were no questions that were not permitted. Jerry Czin of Upper Montclair said he thought stoning was the preferred method of capital punishment in the Talmud, and wondered what other methods might be employed. “There’s always one in every crowd who wants to know all the gory ways to die,” quipped Shapiro, who responded to the question. “Actually, stoning comes after someone is pushed off a cliff but doesn’t die. There’s also lashing, and fire, which isn’t what you might think. They would pour molten lead down your throat and basically burn your insides. How are we doing, Jerry? Want a Power Point presentation?”

Jerry, of course, preferred to get back to the text.

Johanna Ginsberg can be reached at jginsberg@njjewishnews.com.