Our Gemara on Amud Aleph and Beis record halachic discussions and situations when the great Amora, Rav was presented with a challenge to his argument, it was met with silence on his part. Rashbam (“Umodeh”) notes that sometimes the silence is to be interpreted as tacit admission, and other times, it is interpreted as a response to a question that is lacking in sophistication. That is, when questioned by peers who are close to his level of scholarship, if Rav does not respond, he is conceding their point. On the other hand, if the question is by somebody of lesser scholarship such as a lower student, the question might be due to ignorance that would be obvious to the greater sages, and in such a case, there is no response by Rav but no indicator of admission.

 

In those situations why is there no response? Is it that it is beneath the dignity of the rabbi to explain himself? That seems discordant with the ethic of humility which is emphasized in teachings such as:

 

Avos (2:5) “An exacting teacher cannot teach.”

 

Or (ibid 4:1): “Who is wise? One who learns from every person.”

 

And the famous story of Rabbi Pereida (Eiruvin 54b), who patiently reviewed a teaching with a student 400 times. Even more fascinating, the student was highly sensitive, and when he sensed that the rabbi felt pressure to be somewhere else it made it even harder for him to concentrate. Instead of getting frustrated, this caused Rabbi Pereida to start all over again, reassuring the student that he will devote all the time necessary.

 

On the other hand, there is a concept called zrol mara be-talmidim “instilling fear and dread in the students”, as described in Kesuvos (103b). However, Rambam (Talmud Torah 4:5) says that it only applies if the teacher perceives that the students are being intellectually lazy and lacking respect for the material. If they are merely having difficulty understanding due to intellectual shortcomings or density of the material, Rambam says the teacher must be patient. These principles are similarly codified in Shulchan Aruch (YD 246:10-12).

 

If so, we cannot justify Rav’s ignoring the questioner on the basis of respect and dignity for the content alone. There is no indication from the dialogue that there was any laziness or lack of respect on the part of the students; they merely lacked advanced ability. So, why ignore them?

 

I believe the correct answer is that Rav was engaged in study with an advanced group. In order to answer the question it would have consumed a large amount of time, taking opportunity for study away from the majority of students who understood that it was not a question. Apparently, Rav relied on the advanced students to later address the lacunae of the less advanced students. To this day, there are shiurim where this practice occurs. Students do not dare interrupt with a question. Only, after the shiur, the more advanced students review with the lesser ones the content of the Rosh Yeshiva’s lecture. In some yeshivos no one interrupts, and in others it’s completely open, and anybody can interrupt, and still in others, it’s understood buy some invisible yet distinct pecking order that your question must be of a high caliber before you dare ask it. This is the way of scholarship. You can still see traces of that in old movies such as the Paper Chase where John Hausman literally embodies this idea of zrok mara. (Here is a link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qx22TyCge7w ). 

 

Professor Kingsfield, dresses down is the incoming class of Harvard Law School: 

 

“You come in here with a skull full of mush and you leave thinking like a lawyer.” 

 

We belong to a generation of extreme casualness, where the old practices of respecting authority and hierarchy are alien. Here and there, you can see in older, traditional families, often with Persians, how much respect is given to elders. I have observed younger people who will not speak English in front of their elderly grandparents. Those gestures and degree of respect lost on

most of us. Kids today are brought up to feel that their teachers are like buddies and friends. You can’t turn back the clock, and these practices have evolved to suit the sensibilities and needs of our culture. Still, it is worth contemplating, to see the weight in which silence, dignity and respect, went hand in hand. We are used to people posting on social media what they ate for breakfast, so the idea of calm reticence is unusual.

 

My father Z”L used to tell me that, “Once upon a time, people behaved in such a manner that  they thought twice before they spoke what they thought, and they thought four times before they wrote what they spoke. In our times, people don’t think before they speak, and hardly much before they write.“

 

And what is interesting is that there’s a deep yearning in the soul for this kind of quiet, humble dignity. As we saw, even in popular American culture and media there is this fascination with elderly sage characters. For the younger generation, we have characters 

such as Yoda or a sensei in a dumb cartoon. Unfortunately, they are crass caricatures, and generally speaking, after spouting some deep philosophical idea of passivity and humility, to make the movie interesting, they end up brandishing a sword and slaughtering their enemies. (To be honest, we have that archetype ourselves. For example Moshe doing battle personally with Og (Berachos 54b), or Shmuel against Agog (Shmuel I:15:33), and the Maccabees.) 

 

Regardless of the subtleties, we do see that there is a craving for an all wise transcendent character who speaks in riddles and challenges the intellect and the heart. This is an important human pattern of how nonverbal attitudes and ideas are transmitted by sages to students who have an open mind and heart.