My Weekly Shlichus, A Tribute To My Chavrusa

by Mayer Silber

On April 28, 2015, I met my new chavrusa David Aiken over the telephone. JNet, an organization that pairs people to study Torah together, matched me, a Lawyer who happens to be an ordained Rabbi as well, with David who wanted to expand his knowledge of Torah and Judaism.

Though I’m privileged to be an ordained Rabbi with a full lifelong Jewish education, I never had the opportunity to lead my own congregation. At least until I met David, who became my congregation. 

David was not just a model student. He had a thirst for learning that never ended. His humility allowed him to learn because he never hesitated to ask a question if anything was unclear.

He wanted to study Talmud. So in between lively discussions about shuls, world history, the law, law enforcement, and lots of jokes, we began to study Tractate Sukkah. After years of weekly in-depth study sessions, we had just a few pages left to make a Siyum, when he unfortunately passed away.

Tractate Sukkah discusses all the details of the Sukkos festival, including the festivities in Temple times, the four species, and of course, the specific halachic requirements of the Sukkah hut itself. 

The temporary nature of the Sukkah requires that there be shelter; walls; and a roof covering consisting of natural tree branches or planks. If the walls or coverings have gaps, the Talmud teaches that in certain instances, we deem the gaps to be solid and part of the wall or covering surrounding them. 

At first, the Talmud spending so much time addressing the obvious defects of a Sukkah seemed strange. Shouldn’t it focus on perfection? I like to think the Sukkah gaps teach us that striving to fill the gaps in our education is in fact what makes us whole. Recognizing that we can always learn more, like David did.

David wanted to feel like he was a youngster in Torah and I was the elder. As we shared our common devotions it was clear that any gaps in Torah learning and practice were not gaps at all. He was solid as he aspired to fill in his gaps at every opportunity.

It was a special time for me when we would study for about 45 minutes every Tuesday or Wednesday. We became great friends over the years, and never ended a class without incessant laughter about something.

He took our time very seriously and called me Rebbi, a name usually reserved for teachers in a Yeshiva. At first, I felt unworthy of such a title but his insistence reminded me of the importance of my role. For these 45 minutes a week, I was not just Mayer the lawyer, I was Mayer the Rebbe’s Shliach.

David Aiken was my entire congregation. He kept me on my toes with a myriad of questions until he’d say “You know, I’m so glad that you’re not sure about a few things because that makes me feel as though I can go on without knowing a few things as well.”

Even though I live in the bustling Jewish community of Chicago, and David was in Oregon, he became part of my family’s “community.” He always sent us honey before Rosh Hashana and various liquors and jellies that are produced in Oregon before a holiday so we would have a taste of the West Coast which he called home. He always remembered to call my wife before a holiday and say, “Gut Yom Tov, Rebbetzin.”

All David wanted to be was well grounded in the Torah. May his memory be a blessing. May his soul be bound with eternal life.

JNet pairs volunteers who’ve had the gift of a Jewish Education with Jews from a diverse array of backgrounds looking to learn more. For the mentee, it offers a one-to-one session where they can explore their Jewish heritage at their own pace. For the mentor, a chance to tap into their arsenal of Jewish Knowledge and share it, as a weekly Shlichus. 

To register visit, www.jnet.org/learn