Suddenly, boom! The place erupts as 90 boys start talking heatedly all at once. There is shouting, exclaiming, and explaining as boys scan their Gemaras feverishly. Some are in the thick of the action, out-yelling each other, while others are on the periphery, calmly discussing their thoughts with their neighbors. One boy has a eureka moment and runs over to some others to share his insight.

Although the question was aimed at Aish, Teams Midbar and Mayim are also heatedly engrossed in debate, knowing the question can be posed to them at any moment.

Finally, about five minutes later, Aish’s deliberations wind down, and the boys elect one student to share their answer. Rabbi Rabi guides him to the front, and as the boy takes hold of the mic, his eyes sparkle with the thrill of the moment.

“The owner has to pay the value of what he benefited, just like the second case of the Mishnah,” he announces with confidence.

“He got it right!” Rabbi Rabi shouts.

Aish cheers with boyish exuberance, and their score changes from 0 to 4 on the electronic scoreboard.

And so it continues, with different questions being posed to each team.

“Name two cases in which a cheresh, shoteh, or katan are involved where in one case you are chayav, in the other you are patur.” “Rabi Yosef has two reasons why a shomer aveidah (finder of a lost object, who by default is now responsible for its safekeeping) is responsible on the level of shomer sachar (a paid watchman): What is a practical difference between the reasons?” “A police officer is coming to give a ticket, so your friend puts money in the meter. He wants to know if he can charge you.” “Name two cases in a which a shomer aveidah loses the animal he was guarding, but in one he’s chayav and in the other he’s not.”

The rebbeim are swept into the action as well. They help their talmidim, discussing the sugyos and encouraging them as they bring up relevant points. They also animatedly talk in learning among themselves. Lamdanim in their own right, the rebbeim sometimes appeal Rabbi Rabi’s decisions.

“Tosafos learns that the two teirutzim are both true, and you need both conditions to be chayav,” they argue.

Without missing a beat, Rabbi Rabi replies, “Tosafos in Eilu Metzios learns that the two answers of the Gemara are mutually exclusive, hence even if one condition of mavriach ari is missing, you are still chayav.”

You can see Rabbi Rabi knows his stuff. Throughout the program, quoting sources ranging from Tosafos in other masechtos to his rebbi, Toronto’s Rav Shlomo Miller to Rav Shmuel Salant’s chiddushim, this British yeshivah gameshow host holds his own against Lakewood’s finest.

Rabbi Shmuel Rabi was born and bred in Gateshead, England. He learned in the yeshivah there, followed by a stint in Beth Medrash Govoha in Lakewood. After he married Nechama  (Verzicherter) of Jerusalem’s  Mattersdorf neighborhood, the young couple lived in Jerusalem, where he learned in Brisk. They later moved to Toronto, where Rabbi Rabi joined Rav Shlomo Miller and Rav  Yaakov Hirschman’s Kollel Avreichim, after which he worked as a high school rebbi for more than a decade.

The Rabis raised their ten children in Toronto, where they still live today. Now, Rabbi Rabi spends his days working with middle school boys and tutoring for eighth graders to prepare them for mesivta.

The Rischa D’oraisa program was born, humbly enough, out of a seemingly minor episode. A couple of years ago, Rabbi Rabi was asked to sub for a class at a local elementary school. Like most rebbeim, Rabbi Rabi recognizes the challenges of subbing, and he asked Rabbi Moshe Goldman, the rebbi of the parallel class, for some ideas.

“Why don’t we pit my class against yours to compete for answers to questions on their learning?” Rabbi Goldman suggested.

It sounded good, and the two of them quickly agreed to include the third parallel class in the action. The competition went well, and Rabbi Rabi realized he was on to something. He ran a similar program again, and then again… and Rischa D’oraisa was born.

Two years later, Rischa D’oraisa is gaining steam. Rabbi Rabi has run programs in his hometown of Toronto, as well as Baltimore, Maryland; Chicago, Illinois; Monsey, New York; and Passaic and Lakewood, New Jersey — close to 100 events in all.

The name of the program sums it up: Rischa D’oraisa refers to the ideal nature of learning, heated — rischa is Aramaic for boiling, simmering — and that’s exactly what Rabbi Rabi is looking to promote. In an era where the temptation of the outside world beckons to our children with a deafening roar, he explains, there is no greater antidote than the competitive adrenaline of kedushah.

Rischa D’oraisa is suited for grades second through eighth, each grade with its own style. With younger elementary children, Rabbi Rabi focuses more on dramatization and drawing out a lesson in whatever sefer the boys are learning. For example, he challenges boys learning Chumash, “Where in parashas Vayishlach do we learn the concept, ‘Don’t put all of your eggs in one basket’?” (Answer: Yaakov splits up his family). “Where do you find the concept of giving everyone a chance?” he asks the boys learning Mishnayos Yoma. (Answer: No Kohein got to do ketores more than once.)

Rabbi Rabi has fun with his presentations. For fifth graders, for example, he acts out a little skit in collaboration with a rebbi. He takes a bunch of oranges and separates two, stating they are terumah. The rebbi, acting as the owner of the fruit, chides him, “Why didn’t you take terumah from the better oranges?”

Rabbi Rabi then asks the children if the fruit is terumah according to Rava, who holds yiush shelo mi’daas is yiush (had you known your possession was lost you would have given up on recovering it, therefore it is considered as if you actually gave up on recovering it even if you didn’t know it was lost, and your ownership is relinquished; here, the Gemara compares losing an item to having someone separate terumah from your fruits without your knowledge). Next, he drops $20 on the floor and asks if the finder is allowed to keep it.

Rabbi Rabi particularly enjoys middle school grades, when boys are old enough to understand and extrapolate from the actual material they’ve learned, a dynamic that lends itself to great questions and stimulating shows. His goal is to raise the boys’ level of understanding while applying the underlying concepts of the Gemara, and in these grades they run with the intellectual challenges he throws at them, while getting thoroughly swept into the excitement of the game and giving it their all.

Rabbi Rabi crafts intriguing and stimulating questions because he has mastered the material taught in yeshivos. He uses that when he prepares for each show, and he’s always on the lookout for material — his mind constantly seeking new questions.

“It actually helps my own learning, because it stimulates my brain in this unique way — my mind is always coming up with potential questions, with new ways of looking at the Gemara,” Rabbi Rabi says.

Another side benefit is one he hears from the rebbeim themselves, who find themselves thinking along similar lines and getting ideas from Rabbi Rabi’s program, which they then apply in their classrooms. He’s gotten feedback from many rebbeim that after seeing the enthusiasm for his methodology, they’ve incorporated the style into their lessons.

That’s the feedback Rabbi Rabi appreciates most — that instead of teaching dry information, there’s an emphasis on making it come alive so the boys actually “get” it.

“Imagine you tried describing pizza to someone who never saw it before. You might talk about the hot melted cheese, the savory tomato sauce, the chewy crust. But compare that to simply showing someone an actual pie,” Rabbi Rabi explains. “It’s the same thing with learning. When the material is taught in an experiential, visceral way, there’s simply no comparison. I’m looking to give children a geshmak in learning.”

Rabbi Rabi likes to relate an anecdote about the time he was shopping at Marks & Spencer in England, and he noticed a tie that had a slight defect but was still wearable.

“May I have this tie for a reduced price?” he inquired of a salesman.

Seeing the imperfection, the man simply removed it from the shelf.

“Sorry, but this is not for sale,” he said, explaining that Marks & Spencer would not sell an imperfect tie bearing their name, no matter what — and they wouldn’t give it to him for free, either. The brand needed to protect its name and could not risk having someone wear an imperfect tie with their label.

Rabbi Rabi feels the same way about his Rischa D’oraisa. He guarantees a spectacular event, he stands by his brand — and schools are satisfied. In the best indication of customer satisfaction, Rabbi Rabi has already been invited back to several schools to do the program a second time — sometimes even in the same year, once in the beginning of the year, and a second time toward the end.

One principal in Baltimore wrote him an enthusiastic letter of support, commenting on the name Rischa D’oraisa, “It is properly named, as you were able to bring out the excitement, passion, and fire of the Torah learning of the talmidim.”

Rabbi Rabi’s calendar starts filling up around Chanukah time, once students have accumulated some knowledge and reviewed it. Come Adar, when the boys are ready for a positive diversion, schools start calling again, as well as toward the end of the school year, when the classes are generally focused on chazarah.

He books up quickly, and during busy seasons, Rabbi Rabi has to juggle multiple schools, leading to extended road trips. He remembers one occasion when he drove the whole night from Toronto to an event on the East Coast that was scheduled for 10:45 a.m. He had a little under an hour, until 11:35, because then the boys had to load the buses at 11:45 for a trip.

Unfortunately, due to a mix-up, the room designated for the Rischa D’oraisa program was double-booked. Rabbi Rabi was anxious about how and when he would set up, but what could he do? As time passed, he got increasingly concerned. He had traveled all this way, his time window was closing fast, and he could do nothing about it.

By the time everything resolved, it was about 11:15, and Rabbi Rabi had no more than 20 minutes for a 50-minute program. Short on time but with no other choice, Rabbi Rabi fired only his best, home-run questions at the boys. His energy level was through the roof, and in the end, what could have been a disaster was an incredible performance — and he enjoyed it thoroughly, too.

Although a rebbi could make his own game — and many do — what Rabbi Rabi brings to the table is hard to duplicate. He puts a lot of thought into all aspects of his program, even the way he announces the answers and the raffles at the end. Rischa D’oraisa is a unique mix of incredible Gemara knowledge, carefully constructed questions, and dynamic presentation style. He seeks to include all the boys, even those who find learning challenging. His classy British accent adds flair, as does his sense for igniting drama.

Rabbi Rabi would like to expand his program. He is looking to break into the chassidish community and he’s  encouraging one of his daughters-in-law who does this kind of work for a different cause to start a similar program for girls. He also would like to expand his program for mesivta-age bochurim in summer camps.

Back in the beis medrash hosting today’s competition, Teams Aish, Midbar, and Mayim are waging a fierce war. The game reaches its climax when one rebbi is chosen to read a story Rabbi Rabi concocted involving some Lakewood kids, a rental car, and competing Russian and Ukrainian soldiers — all Jewish. The (admittedly slightly zany) story concludes with three questions about who comes out of the story needing to pay and how much.

“Use your knowledge to figure out the answers,” Rabbi Rabi instructs.

The room erupts.

After some back and forth, two boys, one from Aish and one from Mayim, come forth and present two answers. The third answer, however, is still a mystery.

Rabbi Rabi literally cannot control himself.

“You guys missed the boat!” he yells, practically jumping up and down. “It’s a trick question!”

He explains that everyone, including the rebbeim, overlooked the fact that a ganav must pay keifel (double), hence they are chayav even after the original theft was returned.

Final score: Aish — 18; Mayim — 16; Midbar — 12. Aish belts out a winners’ cheer. The boys are all on a high as they file out of the beis medrash. Their exhilaration lingers, and with the contentment that follows a successful presentation, Rabbi Rabi starts dismantling the scoreboards.

“The boys were really fighting,” someone once commented to him about Rischa D’oraisa.

“That’s exactly the point,” he replied.

Because that’s exactly what Rabbi Rabi wants to do — to get everyone to join and fight the fight, to boil and simmer as they heatedly battle the eternal milchamta shel Torah.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 993)