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March 18, 2005
Enlightened television
Minyanaire gives yeshivah boys a new obsession.
DAVE GORDON
When Regis Philbin began hosting the TV game show Who Wants
to be a Millionaire?, he never imagined that the show's popularity
would take off as it did. Upon hearing the news of a Jewish spin-off
game, Philbin was equally surprised. "I didn't even know what
a minyan was until I heard about this game! Now I know it's 10 guys
and no women. Sounds kinda like poker night at my house!" Philbin
exuberantly exclaimed.
The new game was created after Shlomo Weinberg, a young student
at Yeshivat Charedi, a New York City yeshivah, noticed Philbin's
show on a television inside a store window. Weinberg is a 23-year-old
full-time yeshivah student. He usually avoids television, seeing
it as an instrument of distraction and evil, but this game show
caught his eye.
"I don't own a TV," he said, "and I usually don't
like TV. Frankly I prefer curling up with a good book. Masechet
Makkos is one of my favorites! I enjoyed this show so much though
that I wanted to find some people I could play it with. See if I
could make it useful instead of wasteful."
The next day, Weinberg discussed with his study-partner, Mordecai
Rosen, the idea of making a Jewish equivalent of the show. The game
is similar: each question is multiple choice with four possible
answers provided. But Who Wants to be a Minyanaire? differs
because it offers no dollar reward.
"You see," explained Rosen, "it's such a mitzvah
to lead the davening that we always had a lot of trouble deciding
who should get to lead it. Everyone thinks they have the best voice
and so forth, yeah? So we decided that once we had a minyan
[10 people], they'd have to answer all these questions to win the
right to be the shaliach tzibbur [prayer leader]." For
friends of Weinberg and Rosen, it is worth their free time to try
and stump one another on talmudic conundrums in a fresh, unique
way.
Rosen, his thumb circumscribing excited circles in the air, told
of a particularly exciting round during one of Minyanaire's
early bouts. "Dovid Chernow was on the brink of winning when
he got stumped by a real kashe [hard question]."
The question was, "In Perek Chamishi of Bava Metizah, Eizehu
Nashach, upon what do Rabbah and Rav Yosef agree? Is it:
"a) Five zuzim is sufficient deposit on a purchase of 10 shekalim
of wheat for Shabbos.
"b) A man may say to his neighbor, 'here are four zuzim for
a barrel of wine; if it turns sour, it is in your ownership; but
if it appreciates or depreciates in value, it is mine.'
"c) He who advances money at the early market price must personally
appear at the granary.
"d) A man may contract to supply provisions at the current
market price even if he has none.
"And of course," Rosen continued, "Chernow is sweating
because he's already used his lifelines and everyone is snickering
because everyone knows the answers when they're not the ones on
the hot seat." Weinberg was so excited he jumped in to conclude
the story: "And so just as Chernow is about to give up, he
decides to take a wild guess and he guesses C which is, as we all
know, the right answer. The Rav asks him if he's sure. And he says
he's sure. The Rav says, 'final answer, Duvedel?' and Dovid hesitates
for just a sec before nodding and saying it's his final answer.
And everyone asks how did he guess since he didn't seem to know,
yeah? It turns out he just guessed C cause his name is Chernow!
I said to him that his name is also Dovid and so he could've guessed
D but he just kinda grunted at me and walked away."
In the original version of the show, contestants can ask for help
by choosing up to three "lifelines": either half of the
possible answers are removed, a friend may be called for assistance
or the audience can be polled for their opinions. Since the bachurim
wanted to make the new game "Sabbath friendly," the calling
option has been changed to simply asking a friend. Additionally,
the voting option allows the player to cull the opinions of three
random peers in less than 30 seconds.
"We wanted to keep it down to three people, just to save time,
and so it wouldn't be too easy. Besides – three, or a chazak,
is a special number in Judaism," said Weinberg. "Actually,
so is seven," Rosen pointed out. "And also 40!" someone
called from across the beis midrash [religious Jewish college]
where we were talking.
"Um, yeah," said Rosen. "Well, I picked three. So
there."
What consolation prizes are there for those who ascend the ladder
but cannot answer all seven questions? "That seems to vary
on a yeshivah-by-yeshivah basis," explained Weinberg, "but
herring and cholent are frequently involved. That's all I can really
say."
Minyanaire's popularity has expanded to other yeshivot, though
some rabbis have prohibited the game in their seminaries. Rosen
explained that these rabbis feel that the entertainment of the secular
world should not enter a Jewish home or a Jewish place of study.
"Our lives should be dedicated to the study of Torah and tikkun
olam [the improvement of the world] and really, Regis Philbin
doesn't fit in there anywhere. Neither does Kathy Lee, I don't think,"
a rosh yeshivah who did not want to be named explained.
Other rabbis are not so strict. The head of Weinberg and Rosen's
yeshivah, Rav Klutzkasher, believes that it's making the "unredeeming"
shows of television into G-d's work. Students from Rosen's school
liken the argument to the enjoyment of "shlock rock";
Jewish mock-ups of popular rock tunes. Klutzkasher elaborated, "If
I'm willing to let them listen to the shlock rockers sing a song
like Ricky Martin's 'Shake Your Tam Tams,' how can I not allow them
to use this Philben-esque creation to bring order to the prayer
services?"
Rosen and Weinberg further argued that the Jewish version has little
to do with the television game, it doesn't hurt anyone and, in fact,
helps people learn more about Torah, which can't all be a bad thing.
"One of the difficulties we've found about our game are questions
that have more than one possible right answer," said Rosen.
In talmudic study, it is said that one can find up to 70 different
interpretations of a single line. Different yeshivot have come up
with their own minhagim, or customs, on how to solve this
problem. Some play only Talmud Yerushalmi or even just simple Tanach
questions or they don't include questions with more than one correct
answer, while others ask for the "most correct answer."
"Sometimes, there are some fights and I heard of one yeshivah
in New Jersey," Weinberg admitted, "where the rosh yeshivah
had to be consulted after the 'host' and the contestant sent each
other to the hospital! Turns out the answer was 40 paces."
Philbin, with his typical bundle of energy, warned the boys if word
of their game reached the ABC executives, "I just hope the
creators of my show don't sue those guys for copyright infringement!"
Dave Gordon is a freelance writer from Toronto who has
written previously for the Forward and Jewish Week
of New York.
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