which can provide some momentum for in- dividual practice, and as a result feel their Judaism atrophying. One way to start gaining insight into these questions is realizing whether you are the type of person who takes an active role in community or your disposition is more introspective, your relationship to Judaism more personal and directed toward God and spiritual matters. Both types can thrive in small communities—it’s just a question of how you approach it. Rabbi Zolly Claman re- cently took a position as the rabbi of Tifereth Beth David Jerusalem in Montreal, Que., but he arrived there via Edmonton, Alta., (Jew- ish population: 3,515), where he served the Orthodox community. Claman appreciated living in this kind of setting. While urban centres have their merits, he says, “What you lose out on is just that purity of the lone Jew trying to reach out to community, to spirituality, to God, to Torah, to good deeds. And to me, that’s kind of the balancing act between the two options.” Similarly, Isaacs says that, before she moved to rural Maine, she was used to go- ing to synagogue, getting what she needed from the shul and the community, and then going home again. When she arrived in Waterville, she was inspired by how much everyone was actively taking part and mak- ing Shabbat and holidays happen. It’s important not to go in with illusions, however. Both the Schtrokses and Claman point out that families with children can face particular issues. If kids do not have other Jewish friends, they can start to feel isolat- ed and uncomfortable with their Judaism. “You can’t replace the Jewish educators and the atmosphere of Jewish education and Jew- ish peers,” Claman concedes. Schtroks told me that it was much, much harder to raise his kids in a small community than it was to fund- raise the entire budget of his organization. Cost is a consideration that swings in the other direction. Isaacs knows of more and more Jews who are being priced out of large urban centres and even formerly affordable suburbs and are finding them- selves in small towns out of financial ne- cessity. She sees a big part of her work as providing resources to those who do not have the finances to be big-city Jews. As she puts it: “Small town Jewish life is the frontier, not the periphery. These Jews have what to teach others who haven’t yet been hit with the affordability crisis.” One of the most poignant parts of Minyan
on the Mira is an interview with the local Catholic priest; he observes that the Jewish community there is struggling without ne- cessary support—the kind of bolstering that would be provided by a rabbi or cantor. His Jewish neighbours tell him that they’re get- ting by but, as he says, there is a difference between getting along and thriving, and that a community will be in decline if they can- not live with “the fullness of their faith.” This is particularly striking coming from a faith leader of another tradition, someone who understands the difficulties of maintaining religious observance in a small community but has the clarity of being able to witness this decline from a distance. There is no single answer to the question of what kinds of places Jews should live in, and no single overarching value that can de- cide it. It very much depends on how you see and understand your Judaism. Can you see yourself as a representative of your traditions both to fellow Jews and to non-Jewish friends and neighbours? It’s easy to understand why a Chabad rabbi might frame someone living in a small community as being a representa- tive of God and Judaism: they have a long his- tory of being emissaries to their communities and likely assume that many other Jews can fit this model. But not everyone does. At the very end of our conversation, Rabbi Claman pointed out that Hasidic masters had a history of occasionally going to small communities, generally incognito, and living in a private exile to see if they had what it took to be Jewish when no one else knew about it. That private trial was often what they needed to inspire them to further inspire others. The unnamed Catholic priest of Glace Bay said a very similar thing when he hoped that whatever the extant Jewish community learned from living in their own version of an exile could be put to use wherever their next stop might be. Rabbi Moshe ha-Darshan, also known as the Kelmer Maggid, was asked if it is more praiseworthy to worship in a town that is primarily Jewish or non-Jewish. His reply, Rabbi Isaacs reminded me: if you live in a town that is primarily Jewish, you may go to synagogue because of social pressure and political gain. The Jew who maintains their commitment to mitzvot in a community that is not primarily Jewish, however, receives a greater reward because they are truly con- tinuing to pray for the sake of God. There are opportunities to engage with your Judaism wherever you are. n
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