Chatam: The Anglo community in Rehovot you’ve probably never heard of

Chatam offers something unusual: the support and familiarity that Anglos need when they land in Israel, without being in an Anglo bubble. It’s a community of approximately 100 families living in a city known for its unique mix of every element of Israeli society. In Rehovot, religious and secular neighbors share apartment buildings; hi-tech engineers and kollel families go grocery shopping side by side; and somehow, everyone actually gets along.

Rehovot was founded in 1890. Currently, the city’s population is around 150,000, and it has more than 200 synagogues across the full religious spectrum. Its shopping centers are the Rehovot Mall, American-style strip malls, and the Bilu Center nearby. From Jerusalem, a commute by car takes 50 to 55 minutes; from Beit Shemesh, 45 minutes; from Tel Aviv, 25 to 30 minutes; from Bnei Brak, around 35 minutes; from Haifa, approximately 80 minutes; and from Beersheba, one hour. Rehovot is known for the Weizmann Institute, Kiryat Mada (the science and tech park), and vibrant academic and medical employment opportunities.

Chatam’s story begins in 1983, when a handful of mostly Anglo post-docs at the Weizmann Institute started learning together and seeking structure, guidance, and community. Under the encouragement of Rehovot’s legendary chief rabbi, Rabbi Simcha HaCohen Kook, the small group formed what became Chug L’Torah L’Machshevet – CHATAM.

For nearly four decades, the community was shepherded by its founding rabbi, Rabbi Dovid Stein, who built it “brick by brick” as members describe it. Then, about seven years ago, Rabbi Stein felt it was time to bring in the next generation of leadership. That’s how Rabbi Yosef Ashenberg arrived in Rehovot.

“I’ve lived in Israel for 20 years,” Rabbi Ashenberg says, “but Chatam is unique. It’s a community with knitted yarmulkes, black yarmulkes, hats, jackets, and no hats and no jackets, all in the same minyan. And people genuinely respect each other.” He laughs and adds, “While we certainly have haredi members of the kehilah, some say, ‘I have a haredi rav, but who says I’m haredi?’ ‘Out-of-town yeshivish’ is probably the best description.”

Ask Chatam members what drew them to the place, and you’ll hear variations on a theme: They wanted Israel – the real deal – but with enough support to survive the landing.

When Shira Kasser began researching aliyah communities, she already knew that what she didn’t want was a monolithic environment. “We’re a little out of the box ourselves,” she explains. “In Israel, you often have to choose a box because of schools, and we wanted a community that would accept us no matter which box we chose.”

What won her over was the heterogeneity of the city of Rehovot itself. “It reflects the general Israeli population. My kids are growing up seeing the variety of Judaism and the beauty in that. You get that out-of-town closeness but with real infrastructure behind it.”

For Rabbi Shlomo Agishtein, the turning point was the Pittsburgh synagogue shooting at the Tree of Life Congregation in 2018; suddenly, staying in the United States felt less certain. Four and a half years after arriving in Rehovot, he describes the community as life-changing. “It’s warm, collective, and sincere. When someone has a challenge, everyone pitches in. When someone has a simcha, you feel people truly celebrating with them.”

Kasser points out something many Americans don’t realize until they’re in Israel: Community functions differently for olim. “In Israel, Israelis lean on extended family. Olim don’t have that. Community becomes your family. That’s why a kehilah like Chatam is so essential.”

If there’s a theme that repeats itself in every interview with the residents, it’s that Chatam is a real community. When someone has a baby, meals appear before they’re even requested. When a child went missing, the entire shul mobilized instantly, and it was a Chatam member who eventually found the child in Jerusalem. During the recent war, the group raised over NIS 3 million to help purchase modern protective gear for IDF soldiers, an initiative that began spontaneously in the community WhatsApp chat.

Aliza, who moved from Silver Spring, Maryland, explains the cultural difference simply: “In the US, your shul is your center. Here in Israel, that’s not as common. But in Rehovot, the community really behaves like what we’re used to: support networks, meals, guidance, shared joy, shared responsibility.”

Rabbi Agishtein puts it this way: “When someone is going through something difficult, everyone donates time or money. Even after the official meal train ends, people show up with a cake or ask if you need anything when they go shopping. It’s a microcosm of all Jews living together and really caring about each other.”

Rehovot offers a wide range of educational options – State National Religious, State Orthodox, and more.

One school that stands out for Chatam members in particular is the Peninim school for girls. It is especially attractive because of its American-Israeli principal, Serena Schechter, and her unique educational philosophy.

“Learning needs to be experiential,” she says. “When girls learn in a hands-on way, when they learn to think and not just memorize, the whole educational experience is different. The girls learn to love Judaism, to see the joy in it, not just see a list of do’s and don’ts.”

Another advantage of Peninim is that Schechter “gets” the oleh experience and ensures that all newcomers have the support they need to thrive. New olim receive six “hours for immigrants” a week of individualized language support that helps the girls become socially and academically integrated much more quickly.

“My daughter is crushing it,” one mother says, “and I attribute so much of that to Mrs. Schechter and the support my daughter received.”

For boys, options include HaRaayah (Religious Zionist Talmud Torah), Etz Chaim (Orthodox with a full core curriculum), Be’er (a classic, warm heder), and Noam (with separate boys’ and girls’ divisions). Families emphasize that switching between educational systems is common in Israel and socially acceptable. “One child in one system and another in a different one – it’s totally fine here,” Aliza explains. “What matters is the child.”

Rehovot is home to the Weizmann Institute and Kiryat Mada science park, which have shaped the Chatam community in fascinating ways. “This is a city of engineers, academics, programmers, doctors, and scientists,” Rabbi Ashenberg says. “You’re more likely to sit next to someone at a kiddush who’s doing a post-doc in molecular biology than someone who teaches ninth-grade math.”

For Anglos, the job market is extremely accessible. Hi-tech roles demand English, not Hebrew. Many commute 25 to 45 minutes to Tel Aviv. Kaplan Hospital is a major employer for medical residents. “People worry they won’t manage without Hebrew,” Rabbi Ashenberg explains. “But in hi-tech, so much is in English. Some families struggle to get enough Hebrew exposure because their jobs are entirely English-based.”

But tech isn’t the only job opportunity, and residents find the commute easy, since Rehovot is around 45 minutes from just about anywhere.

Housing in Rehovot is significantly less expensive than in Jerusalem and Beit Shemesh, with four-room apartments renting for between NIS 5,000 to NIS 5,500. Many older buildings are slated for pinui binui (Israel’s large-scale government urban renewal program), offering long-term potential for growth.

Rehovot is not an English-speaking town. Hebrew is necessary, particularly for children, who have to adjust to Israeli culture and classroom expectations. Older children face a steeper learning curve. “Be aware,” Schechter tells parents, “your children will become Israeli. And that’s a positive thing. They’ll be fully integrated into the society where they live.”

Every family interviewed described Chatam as the deciding factor in why they are staying, thriving, and building their lives in Israel. “Everyone compromises on something,” says Rabbi Agishtein. “But what we gain here – the unity, the sincerity, the sense that people really have your back – those things are priceless.”

Chatam isn’t a brand-name Anglo enclave. It’s not the first place people think of when they picture aliyah.

And that may be what makes it special.