Ki Tavo: Where Should Observant Jews Live?

So much of how we see the world depends on the narrative—the lens—through which we interpret reality. Our stance on political and religious issues often flows directly from that narrative. For example, whether one is pro-Israel or pro-Palestinian depends largely on how one interprets the history of the conflict. Likewise, whether we regard Judea and Samaria as the biblical heartland of the Jewish people or as the “occupied West Bank” is a matter of narrative. Even questions about what best safeguards Israel—serving in the IDF or dedicating oneself to Torah study—are framed by competing narratives.

There is yet another narrative worth exploring: What should matter most to an observant Jew when deciding where to live?

One prevailing narrative is reflected in a video I came across recently. In it, a young observant Jewish woman living in New York City explains that she and her husband are considering leaving the city for another community. She weighs the trade-offs: life in the Midwest or South offers a calmer pace and tighter-knit communities, while New York provides late-night shopping, a wealth of kosher food options, and abundant Jewish schools. She then turns to her viewers for advice.

Here are some of the responses:

• “Dallas is a nice choice! Our community is growing fast, with more kosher options every year.”
• “Cleveland, Ohio! Lots of different shuls, multiple Orthodox schools, kosher restaurants and supermarkets—and affordable housing.”
• “Come visit Atlanta. Everyone is so warm and welcoming. You can even ‘shul-hop’!”
• “Philly and Boston both have huge Jewish communities and are close enough to New York to visit.”
• “You should visit Memphis! The Jewish community is small but mighty, with true Southern hospitality.”
• “New Rochelle has a Modern Orthodox community—close enough to the city but with the quiet calm you’re seeking.”
• “I’m shocked no one has mentioned Baltimore. We have a large Jewish community, kosher restaurants, two kosher supermarkets, many schools, and plenty of shuls within walking distance.”

What emerges is clear: most observant Jews in the Diaspora tend to choose communities based on four core factors—the presence of a warm and active Jewish community, ready access to kosher food, and options for shuls and schools. Once these needs are met, so this narrative goes, the rest seems to be a matter of personal preference.

Yet it is this narrative that I wish to challenge. While community, kosher food, shuls, and schools are indeed essential, the idea that the location of an observant Jew’s home is only a matter of convenience or lifestyle preference does not align with the Torah’s vision.

Consider the foundations of our story: God’s very first words to Abraham were “Go forth” (Genesis 12:1)—to the Land. Again and again, God’s covenantal promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob included two central blessings: children and Land (Genesis 12:7; 13:14–15; 15:5–21; 17:1–8; 22:17–18; 26:2–5; 28:3–4, 13–14; 35:10–12). Later, the reason God redeemed the Israelites from Egypt was to fulfill His promise to bring them to the Land (Exodus 2:24; 3:7–9; 6:2–8).

The Torah continues this theme relentlessly. After receiving the Torah at Sinai and constructing the Mishkan—a portable dwelling for God’s presence—the Israelites began their journey toward the Land (Numbers 10:11–33). That journey was tragically delayed for forty years because the spies and the people rejected the Land (Numbers 14:26–35), and Moses and Aaron themselves were barred from entry to the Land because of their sin (Numbers 20:1–13). Still, the entire book of Deuteronomy records Moses’ parting words, preparing the people for life in the Land.

The commandments themselves reinforce this point. Many mitzvot are inseparable from life in the Land—such as the Sabbatical year, agricultural tithes, and the laws of gleanings. Our festivals, too, are rooted in the agricultural cycle of the Land (Leviticus 23:10–22, 39–43; Deuteronomy 16:1–16). Even mitzvot like tzedakah (charity) are framed in the context of life in the Land (Deuteronomy 15:4–11), as are the laws of warfare, kingship, and the judiciary (Deuteronomy 7:1–6; 20:1–20; 16:17–20; 17:8–20).

This week’s parasha, Ki Tavo, highlights the centrality of the Land with the mitzvah of bikkurim. Bringing the first fruits to Jerusalem, the farmer recites a declaration that traces our national journey: from humble origins, to slavery in Egypt, to redemption, and ultimately to the Land itself—where these fruits have been grown. The Land is not merely the backdrop of the Jewish story; it is its culmination.

For millennia, Jews longed and prayed for the return to the Land. With the birth of the State of Israel in our generation, we have been blessed to see those ancient dreams and prayers fulfilled and we now have the opportunity to be God’s people, once again, in His Land.

The conclusion is inescapable: according to both Torah and Jewish tradition, where we live is not simply a personal choice. It is a religious calling.

And so, the real question that young woman—and any other observant Jew—should be asking is not whether to live in Cleveland, Atlanta, or Baltimore but rather “which community in Israel is right for me?”

Shabbat Shalom.