Dear Diary: Why can’t we all just get along?

I spent a wonderful and exhausting weekend in Easton Pennsylania, and though I generally try not to  share the "Dear Diary" (itty-bitty) details of my personal life on this particular stretch of the web, I wanted to mention my crazy weekend here, because I think it might be of interest.

Why? 

Because I did something I've never done before… in the space of 48 hours, I managed to have Friday night services with a Reform Congregation, Saturday services (and brunch on Sunday) with a Conservative Congregation, and Havdalah (and coffee on Sunday evening) with a small Orthodox Shul.  And NONE of them had anything nasty to say about the others.

It was a remarkable experience, in part because it reminded me of something… that in small Jewish communities (like Chattanooga, and Iowa City, where I've spent many years) everyone does a much better job of getting along than the Jewish communities in larger cities.  Because they have to. 

Like this:

Imagine that you're in a small college town, a 19 year old student, and that your dad died last year (if this really happened to you I'm so sorry, and don't mean to make light of it) . Now you (though you might not be otherwise religious) find yourself on campus for your dad's first yarzheit, and you want to say Kaddish.  But you don't know other Jews, and there aren't many of them.  It might take the whole community to make sure you can get a minyan.  But you can bet everyone will scramble to make it happen.

Or imagine you're a family in such a small town, and you have observant cousins, who come to town for your daughter's wedding.  They need kosher food, but the Reform Temple you attend doesn't keep kosher… you'll need help from the Orthodox Jews in the area, to make your guests feel welcome.  And they'll do what they can to help, because you're a part of the world they live in.  And you're a Jew.

See, this is how it is in a town like Easton, as it was for me in Iowa, and Tennessee.  People don't have the luxury of infighting. Or if they do fight, they try to mend fences quickly.  At Iowa, the Chabad minyan met in the Hillel house, and in exchange for the space, the Chabad rabbi oversaw the Hillel kitchen, so that the community would have at least one kosher industrial kitchen. 

Pretty cool, no? 

By contrast, I found that when I arrived in Atlanta, the Emory (3000!!! Jewish kids) chapters of Hillel and Chabad were engaged in a war.  I literally couldn't mention Chabad without screaming matches.  Which is sad.

I just thought I'd mention this now, because I think that those of us in places like New York, Detroit, Chicago, Baltimore, and Atlanta… we forget how much more we have in common with other Jews… than we have to argue about.  And if we could all try to bear in mind that there might come a time when we NEED each other, we'd all be better off.