This past motzaei Shabbos, I had the unique opportunity to attend the MDY (Mercaz Daf Yomi) Melava Malka event. For those unfamiliar, MDY is a Daf Yomi shiur led by Rabbi Eli Stefansky, renowned for his dynamic teaching style and innovative use of props – including everything from inflatable animals to miniature models of the Beis HaMikdash. With tens of thousands of participants tuning in daily worldwide, MDY has become a global Torah-learning phenomenon. R’ Eli begins each shiur with his signature greeting, “Good morning, Raboisai, AHH!”—a line so iconic that even people who don’t follow the Daf probably hear it in their heads when they wake up.
As a journalist covering this event for The Jewish Press, my evening began with an unexpected hiccup. Despite my prior email communicating that I wanted to cover the event, I was charged at the door. (Practical tip: always wait for confirmation before showing up at an event you wish to cover.) Last year’s MDY Melava Malka had graced our front cover, so I assumed entry would be seamless. But alas, even the press isn’t immune to ticket fees. I briefly considered making a dramatic exit and driving all the way back from Connecticut to New York, but MDY won this round. They got me to not only cover the event but pay for the zechus of covering it!
Although I’m not a regular Daf Yomi participant, two friends from shul convinced me to join them. I once learned a single mesechta with MDY, enticed by the free Gemara they offered. Back then, my dedication gradually dwindled: first, I listened to the shiur daily, then just listened to the daily emails being read, and finally reduced my participation to catching the opening “Good morning, Raboisai,” before finally stopping altogether. But here I was, ready to rediscover what makes MDY such a sensation.
The first thing I noticed upon entering the jam-packed ballroom was the incredible diversity of attendees. The parking garage was overflowing, forcing us to park illegally on a side wall – a bold move for one of the only vehicles there without a vanity plate or MDY sticker. Inside, shtreimels and bekishes mingled with modern Orthodox professionals from Teaneck. At my table alone, I sat between a young rebbe from a well-known mesivta and an older gentleman with a knitted yarmulke from New Jersey. MDY’s ability to unite Jews from across the religious spectrum and all ages is nothing short of remarkable. This phenomenon was evidenced by one event speaker recognizing the prominence of the IDF soldiers, some of whom are “MDYers” who are learning the Daf on the front lines in Gaza, Syria and Lebanon, and by the beautiful rendition of Bech Botchi by Shlomie Daskal, in honor of all the Satmar chasidim that were present, who opted to celebrate Chuf Alef Kislev – the day of the Satmar Rebbe, zt”l, was saved from the Holocaust on the Kastner train – with their fellow misayimim at MDY.
The crowd’s enthusiasm was palpable, contrasting sharply with the struggles of major Orthodox organizations to attract diverse audiences to their conventions. Here, people weren’t begged or nudged to attend; they came because they genuinely wanted to be part of something extraordinary. It showed on their faces and in the energy of the room.
One of the evening’s recurring themes was the question: What accounts for MDY’s unprecedented success? The speeches, which I usually dread, were surprisingly engaging. One speaker compared R’ Eli’s charisma to Donald Trump’s – hand gestures included – while another poked fun at President Biden’s criminal justice policies and recent pardons. R’ Eli himself shared how his kids shook him down during the launch of Maseches Sanhedrin. He had offered them $1,000 to incentivize their learning, but after some skillful negotiations (which undoubtedly brought him much nachas), he ended up offering $20,000.
Beneath the kibbitzing, R’ Eli delivered a sincere message about prioritizing Torah learning over material pursuits. At one point, he used the “L” hand gesture (for “loser”) to drive home the point that time wasted on trivialities is a missed opportunity for eternal reward. He also emphasized that his life’s mission is to inspire more people to learn Torah – a goal he’s clearly achieved beyond his wildest dreams.
A particularly touching moment came when R’ Eli gave standing ovations to the women behind the scenes – his wife and others – for their sacrifices that enable their husbands to commit to the Daf. It was a heartfelt acknowledgment of the unseen heroes of Torah learning.
I usually avoid events where the speeches drag on, but these speeches were so entertaining that when we left – past midnight – we found ourselves finishing the rest of them in the car on the drive home. And that’s saying something, considering we could have been watching additional Trump and Biden commentary on SNL instead.
Ultimately, I believe the secret to MDY’s popularity is that it makes learning Torah both satisfying and enjoyable. People feel they are accomplishing something monumental by working through Shas, but they’re also having fun while doing it. Unlike other hotel Shabbossim where the food is typically the main attraction, here the food – while excellent – felt secondary to the uplifting experience. (And trust me, I never thought I’d say that.)
MDY’s Melava Malka was a masterclass in what organizations can achieve when they prioritize authenticity over prepackaged speeches and censored content. The passion in the room was real, and the lessons extended far beyond the Daf.
In conclusion, while paying to cover an event would normally seem like the ultimate act of defeat, attending and paying for the MDY Melava Malka was well worth it! The evening was filled with inspiration, laughter, and an undeniable sense of unity. R’ Eli’s mission to spread Torah learning has clearly succeeded, and I left with a renewed appreciation for what can be accomplished when learning is not just a duty, but a joy. A joy that’s shared by those wearing shtreimels and kippot seruga alike.
May the zechus of journeying through Shas, ki’ish echad b’lev echad, hasten the redemption speedily in our days.
