Putting Springfield, New Jersey, on the Map: Ben Hoffer

Ben and Daniella Hoffer are pillars of the Springfield, New Jersey, community. Courtesy of the Hoffer family

In 1999, Ben Hoffer was an eighteen-year-old yeshivah student at Reishit Yerushalayim, in a shiur led by twenty-five-year-old Rabbi Chaim Marcus. The two formed an instant connection and, outside of shiur, began discussing their future plans. Rabbi Marcus shared his dream with his young student: to build up an out-of-town community in the US, preferably in a one-shul town.

“He wanted to promote a spirit of avodat Hashem and a commitment to growing in ruchniut, and this spoke to me,” Hoffer recalls. “I saw the potential for Rabbi Marcus to lead the community in Springfield, New Jersey, where my family lived.”

After returning to the States, Rabbi Marcus reached out to Yeshiva University—where he had received his semichah—for leads on pulpits in smaller communities. There were six openings at the time; one of them was Congregation Israel of Springfield. In 2001, he was hired as the assistant rabbi/youth director, but his talents were so apparent that—with the blessing of the senior rabbi—he was promoted to main rav just one year later.

At the time, Springfield—a picturesque suburb in the north-central part of the state—was a Modern Orthodox community with about 130 member units (individuals, couples or families), but it was aging. On Shabbat, just two or three lonely strollers were parked in the lobby. A majority of members came to shul only on the High Holidays, and pulling together a daily minyan was a struggle, especially during the frigid winter months.

These days, securing stroller parking at Congregation Israel can feel more daunting than finding a parking space in Midtown Manhattan. The shul now counts around 180 member units, and its youth population is booming, with 225 children—most of them toddlers and preschoolers.

The Making of a Lay Leader

Hoffer’s parents, David and Emmy, a”h, left Bayonne for Springfield in the 1980s when Ben was eight. Along the way, they moved closer to Orthodoxy and transferred their kids from a Conservative day school to an Orthodox one. Ben and his siblings later became active participants in NCSY, while their parents threw themselves into communal life, joining numerous committees and injecting new energy into the kehillah. “Community building must run in the genes,” says Hoffer.

After leaving Reishit, Hoffer attended Yeshiva University, continued learning at YU’s Gruss Kollel and earned his law degree from Brooklyn Law School. He began his career at Atlantic Realty Development Corporation, where he now serves as general counsel. He married Daniella, and even as a young couple living in Teaneck, the two were enthusiastic ambassadors for Springfield. The Hoffers, now blessed with four daughters, always planned to move to Springfield—which they did in the summer of 2007.

Even families that move away for one reason or another always come back to attend a Springfield simchah.

“It’s a little slower here, housing is less expensive, and it’s a little nicer than in many other metropolitan communities,” Hoffer says. “People are surprised at what we have here, and all it takes is one Shabbat for them to see the potential for a different way of living.”

Springfield has a kosher Chinese restaurant, a classic deli and a bagel shop that’s a point of local pride—its bagels were even praised in the town’s secular press. A new mikveh opened in 2007, and schools are just fifteen minutes away in nearby Elizabeth and Livingston.

Located so close to New York City, Springfield—known for its warmth and friendliness—is often referred to as an “out-of-town community thirty-five minutes from Manhattan.” Ariella Konigsberg, a fourth-generation Springfield resident in her twenties, appreciates living in a community that’s close-knit and has “a small-town feel.”

“I love my community,” says Konigsberg, whose great-grandparents were involved in founding Congregation Israel. “Even families that move away for one reason or another always come back to attend a Springfield simchah,” she says. “They are still part of the Springfield family.”

Hoffer, says Konigsberg, is a “pillar of the community, always making time for everyone.”

Now in his mid-forties, Hoffer is a former president of Congregation Israel and has served as a community leader throughout his adult life. He’s a former board member of the Joseph Kushner Hebrew Academy in Livingston, New Jersey; a member of the Board of Trustees for the Jewish Federation of Greater MetroWest NJ; a member of the National Young Leadership Cabinet for the Jewish Federations of North America; and he is involved with the Board of Governors of the Jewish Agency for Israel.

Over the years, concerted and consistent efforts to put Springfield on the map have borne fruit. As community leaders, Ben and Daniella—she currently serves as co-president of the Sisterhood—have sometimes been surprised and momentarily deflated when their efforts haven’t worked as planned. They’ve hosted many guests from other tri-state communities checking out Springfield for Shabbat.

“You can plan all you want, but Hashem runs the world,” says Hoffer. “You plant seeds, you water, you have no idea how long it will be until you see a return on investment.”

The community began gaining momentum around 2005, when several families moved in through an initiative that offered stipends for families who relocated there. Even after the stipend ended, a slow stream of families kept arriving. Then, in the summers of 2013 and 2014, Springfield welcomed a bumper crop of fourteen young families, ushering in a new kind of growing pain: how to retain the small-community character as the neighborhood expanded. “So many people were new,” Hoffer recalls, “it was difficult for everyone to feel personally welcomed.”

Don’t Wait—Relocate Together

I once gave a talk to a group of young people in a thriving—but expensive—community in the tri-state area. There were about eighty guys under the age of thirty in the audience. I told them, “In five years, 75 percent of you won’t be living here.” Then I said: “Why not move together? Build a community somewhere.”

Getting groups of young families to move together has been my dream for years.

—Steve Savitsky, former OU president and founder of the OU Savitsky Home Relocation Fair

Community fairs sponsored by the Orthodox Union, where Ben and Daniella frequently served as Springfield’s representatives, have proven to be winning strategies for promoting the community, as has placing ads in Jewish media. The OU’s Semichas Chaver Program (SCP) has been a hit as well, with thirty to forty attendees each week. (SCP is a practical halachah learning program for men with locations worldwide.)

While proximity to Manhattan and the small-community feel are big draws, Hoffer points to Rabbi Marcus’s vision and sincerity as the true source of the community’s strength and vibrancy. “He is deeply committed to the people here, and everybody appreciates his authenticity,” says Hoffer.

With a growing kehillah, the easy intimacy of a smaller community now takes a bit more effort. To help foster that extended-family feeling, the shul hosts community-building events like social nights, BBQs and “Torah on the Turf” during the summer to connect newer and longtime families.

“It’s a shul that breeds an appreciation for those who aren’t exactly like you,” says Rabbi Marcus. “Everybody’s growth is on a different trajectory. And once you’re settled here, it’s like the theme song of the old TV show Cheers. It’s a place where everybody knows your name.”

Judy Gruen is an award-winning columnist and author of the memoirs Bylines and Blessings and The Skeptic and the Rabbi. She is also a book editor and writing coach.