Over 3,300 years ago, on the sixth day of Sivan, an event took place that altered the course of history. With bursts of thunder and lightning, a firestorm descended on a desert mountain, and at the epicenter was the holy Shechina. On this first Shavuos, Hashem revealed His glory to his young nation, and the Jewish people accepted the Torah and its mission to study it and cleave to Hashem.
But why am I telling you this? Everyone already knows about matan Torah. It is because I am often asked a certain question: Why are you learning in kollel? Despite the fact that a good percentage of our young men and women aspire to, and actually participate in, the kollel life – and although many in our community generously support it and believe in its importance – it remains a much misunderstood topic.
But where should understanding come from? All too often, those in kollel choose to remain quiet about their motivation. Perhaps they are too involved in their learning, or perhaps they feel unequipped to deal with this question, the answer to which is existential and very personal. I have been encouraged to speak up, and so I sat to down to try to articulate my thoughts. I will share them with you as answers to a series of questions:
Q: Why are you learning in kollel?
A: Although the answer I share here is my personal one, I suspect that many of my fellow yungeleit at Kollel Avodas Levi (at Ner Israel) share similar sentiments. It really does go back to matan Torah. Chazal teach us that every Jewish neshama (soul) was at Har Sinai and experienced this revelation in such a way. Thousands of years later, our neshamos can still see the glow of the Torah’s light. I very much connect with the idea of becoming a link in the chain of the mesorah (tradition). I desire above all to learn as much as I can and pass down what I know to the next generation. In short, I am inspired. It is difficult to put into words the true flavor of that inspiration. Instead, I will mostly describe what kollel life looks like from the inside; the learning, the lifestyle, and of course, the challenges. After all, through the mundane we achieve the Divine. Maybe, just maybe, by the end I will somehow have given you a taste of the inspiration.
Q: Is everyone in kollel inspired?
A: To last in kollel, you need to have real motivation. While some assume some people are in kollel just because “it’s what everybody does” or because it’s easier to be supported by somebody else than to get a real job, that is simply not the case, especially when it comes to long-term learners. You don’t need to be an idealist, but you do need to have something you can hold onto – something you can point to when facing adversity and say, this is why I’m doing this.
Q: What is the structure for learning in kollel? Is there a rebbe who teaches?
A: Day-to-day learning in the kollel does not involve a rebbe. You join a group called a chaburah, which studies a particular topic together and is led by a rosh chaburah. The rosh chaburah is an experienced and capable learner, but he usually does not take the role of a rebbe. His job is mostly to set the pace and style of the learning.
However, after many years in the yeshiva system, many yungeleit are zocheh (merit) to forge a long-lasting relationship with a rebbe (or two). This relationship is pivotal; the difference it can make for a family to have the guidance of a talmid chacham and caring rebbe who knows you throughout life is obvious to those who regularly touch base with their rebbe.
Q: What do you learn in Kollel Avodas Levi?
A: The Ner Israel Yeshiva (NIRC) as a whole – starting from when you’re a single bachur – rotates through a core cycle of about 10 common masechtos (tractates). These masechtos, in the tradition of all yeshivos, are mostly from the sedarim Nashim and Nezikin (but also include Sukkah and Pesachim). These were chosen for their difficulty but also because they are considered to be essential to developing a mehalach in learning (a method of study). Most people haven’t yet finished a full cycle when they get married, and so they spend the first few years of Kollel finishing up the “cycle.”
After that, you are ready to “go upstairs,” (The bulk of the Kollel meets in the ezras nashim, which is on the balcony). There, the Kollel has a cycle of its own, which includes all the basic topics of Jewish life, including Shabbos, niddah, basar vechalav, and taruvos. While the goal of the chaburah is not semicha (ordination), we do learn halacha in Shulchan Aruch as we go through the sugyos (topics), and many of the graduates of this chaburah do end up with semicha. After one has covered all these basics, one joins any of the other chaburos learning the various topics and works his way towards the rest of Shas (Talmud).
Q: Why is the goal not semicha?
A: The Kollel believes that, while attaining semichah is admirable, the goal of learning must be learning itself. Semicha is a valuable tool for ensuring that only competent rabbis are empowered to hand out rulings, but when it comes to actual study, semicha review is actually an impediment to true scholarship because it reduces everything to rote study and memorization in place of true analysis.
Q: What are some of the challenges facing a kollel couple?
A: Well, parnassa (livelihood) is the obvious one (think big family, one income) but let’s leave that aside for now. The more immediate question is how does a kollel couple juggle everything? There is not a lot of down time between sedarim (sessions) and with the mother of the household out earning a parnassa, there is not much wiggle room in the schedule for unexpected things that pop up during the normal course of living. (In this, kollel families are perhaps not so different from many frum working families, but I can only speak of my own experience.) A kollel yungerman has to fill in as necessary, and for a serious learner, missing a day is a last resort, because it is very hard to miss a day and keep up with the yeshiva’s pace.
Q: What about being supported by others?
A: It would hardly do to have an article on kollel and omit this essential subject. The mesorah of supporting Torah in general and one’s children’s Torah in particular is an ancient one, and the public debate about its merit is nearly as ancient. Before talking about individuals, I would like to take a moment to talk about the support for the Kollel itself. The kollel couples I know really do appreciate all the support and generosity displayed by the community towards the Yeshiva and the Kollel. It is evident we live in a beautiful community that truly is machshiv (respects) what we do and fully embraces Ner Yisrael. We rely on, and appreciate, this beautiful kesher.
Q: What is the proper way someone in kollel should behave if he is receiving support from others?
A: The Chasid Yavetz in his commentary on the first perek of Pirkei Avos discusses the permissibility of accepting support from others. At the end of the sefer, he refers back to this issue a second time, writing that, yes, it is well known that it is permitted, but beyond the actual halachic question, he feels that in order to attain the proper hashkafa (attitude), a person should make three stipulations for himself before he accepts outside support for learning Torah: 1) He will not accept this support unless it becomes a necessity. 2) He will not accept money in excess of what he and his family need for “normal” living, as one should not live a luxurious life at the expense of others. 3) If he is being paid to teach others or work on the community’s behalf, he will not merely meet the minimum requirements of his agreement but will go above and beyond the call of duty to disseminate Torah, using the fullest extent of his time and ability.
Q: Do people who come to NIRC to learn in Kollel end up settling in Baltimore permanently?
A: A great many do settle down in Baltimore, but of course plenty of people end up leaving (did you expect any different?). It is worth noting, however, the various reasons people have for leaving. Many couples view their kollel years as temporary. Especially for those originating from areas with big Jewish populations of their own, the pull of returning can be great. It is also common for women who moved to Baltimore only because they married a NIRC bachur to have a hard time settling in. It can be disconcerting to start a new life with a new husband and a new, completely different, community, and have family in a distant city to boot. Unlike her husband, she has few ties to Baltimore. Another reason a couple might leave the kollel is to join one out of town. Some yungeleit feel a special desire to be a part of creating a makom Torah in other communities. NIRC has a respected reputation for sending out yungeleit with success. For these couples, the excitement of being a part of something important, the possibility of engaging interactively with an entire community, and the sense of fulfillment that these opportunities bring are the chief motivators. For others, it can be a purely financial decision. Some out-of-town communities hold out attractive offers that can make kollel life more fiscally manageable.
Q: Who is a good candidate for Kollel?
A: Many people operate under the assumption that kollel is not for everybody. While it is clear that not all bachurim are cut out for long term learning, it can still be appropriate for more than just a limited few. That is especially true for shorter-term kollel (1 to 5 years.) I see all types of people in kollel. It is easily suitable for the intellectual as well as the slightly hyperactive. It can work for a bachur with a yeshivish background as well one with a more modern upbringing. Kollel can work for the strictly consistent personality as well as for the irregular performer, the learner who follows along with the crowd and the one who prefers more unusual topics. The one thing we all have in common is the growth and development. I see it happening all around me.
There is something very special about investing time and effort to learn in kollel those precious few years at the beginning of marriage. This special time has the power to enable a bachur to accomplish what he has been unable to achieve all of his years in yeshiva up to that point. Maybe it is the fact that he views it as his last chance to shteig (accomplish). Maybe it is simply the fact that he is older and more mature. And maybe it is having to explain things to a wife who wonders what you are doing all day! Whatever it is, kollel couples invested in learning for those first few years after marriage carry a special chein. Many a former kollel member who has long since left the walls of yeshiva to join the business world looks back on those years as some of his best.
Perhaps the source of joy for a kollel couple is living a life of conviction. During this special time, each day provides an opportunity for change and personal growth. Each additional zman (term) valiantly attempted inspires and infuses mundane daily life with meaning and depth, day in and day out. Whatever your personal opinion about the validity of a long-term kollel life, surely you can find the admiration for the determination and commitment to spiritual growth through the daily pursuit of Torah knowledge. Surely you can recognize what a contribution this is to the community as a whole. Ultimately, we are all in this together – building our families and communities in the spirit of our precious mesorah.
My Husband Is in Kollel
A Wife’s Perspective
When people ask me what my husband does, and I say, “My husband is learning in kollel,” I feel a definite sense not only of pride but of awe, much as people feel when watching an athlete perform or an artist create. Those athletes and artists yearned to know their craft totally and completely. They trained and practiced every day. It is their life’s work. It is the same with my husband. He is making Torah his life’s work. While it is easy to be caught in the emotion of that sentence and to romanticize that thought, reality comes to reminds me of the difficulty of such a goal.
To me, Torah learning feels like a long-term mission, a long trek up a mountain that brings accomplishments, setbacks, stumbles, “get-back-ups,” successes, and sometimes failures. It is a life-long journey on a road that stretches into the distance but can only be traveled one step at a time. There are very few shortcuts, and most of the way is littered with roadblocks. Daily life in learning goes up and down. There are hours of confusion and frustration. Like all long-term goals, days blend into each other and can look the same – and feel the same. However, each day has Torah at its heart, pumping intensity into each moment. The blood pouring into each hour is the insatiable thirst for comprehension, information, and connection to Hashem.
One such day looks like this: It could be a Tuesday or Wednesday, in the middle of the zman (term), probably around November, at the beginning of the long stretch until Pesach, one typical day of hundreds. It is 6:53 p.m., and the sky is already dark. Supper was just finished, or is in the oven cooking. The key clicks, the door opens, and my husband comes in.
“Hey, how was your day?” I ask with a smile.
A smile in response. “Pretty good,” he says. “I shteiged today. It was a good learning day!”
“Oh, that’s good,” I say, and the night continues. Supper happens, and my husband tells me he will sit down for a small learning session. “There are things I need to review and notes I need to write out.”
He sits down and begins to hum his learning song. I peek and watch him pore over several open sefarim, all gathered around a large bound edition of the Gemara. He writes notes, he asks questions aloud, he ponders the answers. I can hear ageless words being spoken and sung. Aramaic and Hebrew flow in a stream of melody, in a continual lilting rhythm. It feels like I am watching that aspiring artist, that Olympic trainee, that craftsman honing his craft as he softly sings with each word and each line and each idea from the open Gemara.
My husband is solely focused on making connections and understanding information. He is making his way to the top of the mountain. He is marching along the path. He shuckels, he sways to and fro, he stares into space, intent on seeing ideas take shape and the picture emerge. His facial expressions change moment to moment: a frown, a questioning look, a smile of satisfaction. He returns to the sefer and asks himself in a sing-song hum, “What is the answer to this kasha (difficulty)?”
Several hours go by, and it’s Maariv time, 10:40. My husband closes his sefer, grabs his coat, and hurries to davening. There are days when he comes back with a bouncing step, with glee and excitement, because a sefer was discovered in shul that connects two pieces of information and offers a solution to a problem! It is a moment of accomplishment, a leap across a bottomless gorge, a faster road to the top of the mountain. But this does not happen all the time. Sometimes, my husband will return home with a pensive look, pondering the unsolved problem, working on a solution which could work or fit. When the night is over, the sefarim are closed, and my husband says the catch phrase that he repeats each time he stops for the night: “Learning never ends! Learning never ends!” And I understand why.
