Growing up, I needed extra help academically, or at least a different strategy than what the typical yeshiva system was offering me. I was quiet and often sat in the back of large classes, and because I did not make noise, I blended in. I moved a few times and never really got up to speed. Throughout elementary school, I was regularly pulled out of class to go to the resource room. I was not disruptive, but I also was not getting good grades.

Over time, I developed a simple conclusion: I was not smart. When I cared, I did well. When I did not, nothing could move me. So I assumed serious learning, especially sitting and learning all day, was for other people. The sharp ones. The ones who were good at Hebrew. The ones who did not need extra help. Looking back, it is clear that intelligence was never really the issue. I went on to do well academically in other environments, including graduate school. But once a label settles in early, it tends to stay longer than it should.

Recently, after those years of building in other areas, I signed up for smicha, something I had been thinking about for a while but kept deciding against. Almost immediately, that old voice came back. This is for real learners. Not you. Instead of backing away, I asked myself a different question: what would it take to approach this in a way that actually works for you? Then I sat down and learned for hours, reviewing and testing myself until I knew the material cold. Over about fourteen hours, I worked through the laws of milk, cheese, butter, and cooking milk and meat together. I realized I never fully understood why we do some of the things we do. Reading the back and forth between the rabbis and seeing how they reached their conclusions was fascinating. I was surprised that I was not bored. I actually enjoyed it. I did not have a dramatic spiritual awakening, and I did not suddenly become a different person, but for one of the first times in my life, I had a genuinely positive experience with serious Torah learning.

Maybe I was wrong about what kind of person this was for.

In this week’s parsha, Tetzaveh, Moshe’s name is missing. The leader of the Jewish people is present throughout, yet he is not mentioned by name. We do not live with open revelation. There is no voice from Heaven directing our daily decisions, and yet Hashem is there. It has not always been comfortable for me, and it has not always been clear what I was being led toward while I was in the middle of it. Only later did I begin to see that I was being guided all along. I just was not ready for that kind of learning then.

If you have ever assumed that serious Torah learning was not meant for you, it may be worth reconsidering that assumption, as long as you are willing to find the approach that works for you.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)