My Shiur

I've been attending a weekly shi'ur (Jewish studies class) for about half-a-year, given by a former high school teacher of mine. The gentlemen, whose extreme modesty is amply matched by his encyclopaedic knowledge, manages to entrance all of those who attend, week-on-week, to the extent that I find it hard to leave his presence. Every word this man speaks is an absolute gem as he takes us through the Book of Joshua, uncovering its beauty - chapter by chapter, verse by verse.

This evening, I brought my father along for the first time. I felt like Indiana Jones, with the Ark of the Covenant in my possession, itching to share its glory with someone else for whom I have the highest degree of esteem and respect. My father, whom I admire immensely, not least for his towering intellect, was finally privy to my little "secret" and I can't describe how extra-special this class turned out to be.

There I was, sitting with both my father and teacher in the same room, experiencing the soul-enriching glow one derives from learning the Tanach (Old Testament).

I can't find the words to express how special these sixty minutes felt to me, except to thank the good Lord for allowing me to bring these two very special individuals together in the pursuit of learning.

My father and my teacher both taught me this evening and that must surely be one of life's platinum moments.

For once, I'm speechless.