It’s time to fix tikkun olam - The Jewish Standard

I like repairing the world as much as the next guy, but tikkun olam has taken on a life of its own, morphing into a pseudo-denomination of American Judaism. It is invoked in ubiquitous fashion, often without a deep understanding of its meaning and — in a less-than-ideal trend — virtually exclusively to signal a particular political perspective. Further hurting its brand, tikkun olam recently has been hijacked by anti-Zionist Jews who offer perverted catch phrases like “Tikkun olam means free Palestine.”

At bottom, tikkun olam’s current iteration needs a course correction — that is, to be put back on the derech, lest it become a false idol.

Tikkun olam is not mentioned in the Tanach. The concept appears in the Mishnah, not as a means of cosmic repair or modern social justice but in the context of narrowly legal rabbinic rulings intended to prevent harm or injustice. Most poignantly the term “l’taken olam” (to repair or fix the world) appears in the Aleinu prayer, which dates to the second or third century CE. What is the context? Aleinu focuses on the promise of Hashem’s ultimate sovereignty over the universe. Immediately before introducing the concept of tikkun olam, the text imagines that “idolatry will be swept away, and false gods will be utterly destroyed.” We should yearn for a world which calls out Hashem’s name to pave the way for the messianic age, repairing the world for the sake of heaven while avoiding the allure of false gods.

Over the centuries, tikkun olam evolved, ranging from mystical explanations to concepts centered on our role repairing an imperfect world.

In the Middle Ages, Rabbi Isaac Luria — aka the Ari — a leading kabbalistic thinker, addressed the problem of evil’s presence in Hashem’s world. Rabbi Luria shared a story of “the broken vessels,” essentially positing that evil enters our world because divine sparks that were part of Hashem’s creative light became trapped in shards of broken vessels. According to Rabbi Luria, humanity can restore the divine sparks through prayer, meditation, and mitzvot. He explained that the sparks are elevated whenever Torah is studied or commandments fulfilled — that there is a spiritual benefit to pursuing tikkun olam by studying Torah, engaging in ritual, observance, and prayers.

While tikkun olam’s evolution did not completely stagnate following Rabbi Luria’s exposition, for the next few centuries its development was slow, culminating in an embrace by Conservative and Reconstructionist Jews, particularly those politically active in the 1960s. These movements offered young idealists a Jewish lens through which to view political and social activism (for example, protesting the Vietnam War was seen as an act of tikkun olam). This was a universalization of the concept and ushered in the continued secularization of tikkun olam.

For many predominantly non-Orthodox American Jews, tikkun olam has become a de facto pillar of Judaism. Whether recycling plastics to aid the environment or advocating for social justice, many Jews and Jewish institutions invoke tikkun olam as a guiding principle. Because virtually any good deed can be couched as an act of tikkun olam, one wonders if the concept has any limiting principles.

There is nothing wrong with marrying one’s Jewish identity to a desire to make the world a better place. After all, who can protest efforts to eradicate poverty in Hashem’s name? And if tikkun olam is used to engage young, previously unaffiliated American Jews, I heartily applaud its use as an on-ramp to a meaningfully Jewish life. Tikkun olam, however, has become increasingly synonymous with left-wing politics, as opposed to a genuine embrace of Torah learning and Jewish observance. Far too many Jews appear to be drawn to tikkun olam Judaism, filled not with traditional Torah learning but with a politically infused Jew-ish social action dogma guided by undefined, let alone deeply understood, “Jewish values.”

The Torah, however, is not a partisan tool. If tikkun olam devolves into a vaguely Jew-ish embodiment of politically progressive orthodoxies and “doing good deeds,” it loses its meaning. There are myriad examples of progressive Jews invoking tikkun olam in support of a particular political cause — and you can bet a dollar that anytime there’s a Jew falsely accusing Israel of war crimes and other blood libel, that Jew will cloak themselves in tikkun olam or “Jewish values” verbiage to validate their misguided actions.

A troubling example occurred in 2024, when Rep. Sara Jacobs (D-Calif) referenced tikkun olam as her reason for boycotting Prime Minister Netanyahu’s post-October 7 address to Congress. Ms. Jacobs predictably stated: “Growing up, I was taught about Jews’ sacred task of tikkun olam — to repair the world. It’s our responsibility as Jews to speak out against injustice and work to make the world a better place. It is because of my Jewish upbringing and values that I can’t attend Prime Minister Netanyahu’s address.” Such polemic invocation of tikkun olam — especially when used to publicly condemn the democratically elected leader of the one Jewish state — is not what the sages had in mind when they wrote the Aleinu prayer and urged Jews to repair the world in Hashem’s name. When I finished rolling my eyes after reading the congresswoman’s remarks, I realized that it’s probably not her fault. She likely had been indoctrinated in a perverted form of tikkun olam Judaism by institutions that had failed her.

While we’re being provocative, here are two other troubling examples:

BLM. In the wake of George Floyd’s murder, many synagogues across America leaned into the Black Lives Matter movement, despite BLM’s antisemitic founders and rhetoric. Initiatives were launched, committees formed, and resources drained to signal those communities’ support for racial justice, invariably in the name of tikkun olam.

Abortion. Jewish law is nuanced when it comes to abortion. It is not nearly as permissive as the masses of Jews who donned their tikkun olam garb and reflexively descended on Washington, D.C., to protest the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v. Wade think it is. Those same Jews would have been better served by gathering to learn the complex halacha concerning abortion, including rabbinic interpretations across the denominational spectrum. Many understandably would have ended up where they began, at pro-choice rallies, but they would have first anchored themselves in Jewish law and enriched the world with Torah learning.

We each have the fundamental right as an American to support whatever party we prefer, but it is dangerous to support political causes, on the left or right, with the belief that such activism can replace our sacred obligation to ensure the continuity of Jewish learning. Working to improve racial equality, advocate for women’s rights, and eradicate poverty are worthy endeavors, but we should not allow advocacy training to replace a firm foundation of Jewish learning and observance.

As a practical matter, far too many American Jewish institutions that engage in full-throated tikkun olam Judaism fail to seriously consider the resources that it has diverted. Time and money spent attending a secular political rally in the name of “Jewish values” is time that could have been spent on traditional Jewish learning. Wouldn’t it be more productive for these same institutions to prioritize teaching their congregants to speak Hebrew, study Torah, visit Israel, and attend synagogue on Shabbat and holidays?

We can of course walk and chew gum, training the next generation of Jewish leaders in our sacred texts and traditions while instilling a sense of responsibility to make the world a better place through acts of chesed. The reality, however, is that our resources are finite, and priorities must be set. Religious schools and Jewish camps should toss a dash of ruthless pragmatism into the chicken soup of core programming. This pragmatism should be guided by the principle that it is not great if the next generation of Jews knows more about tikkun olam than actual Torah.

Many Jews have had a cultural and spiritual awakening post-October 7. This is a moment to channel that positive, anxious energy to combat the troubling trend of Jewish illiteracy and assimilation. It would be a shame if we fumbled this opportunity.

What’s the fix? How do we right-size tikkun olam in our modern world and reclaim its original meaning? I don’t pretend to have the answer, but a good place to start is to agree on basic principles: (i) we should not replace classic Torah learning with a nebulous notion of “fixing the world” under the guise of “Jewish values”; (ii) we should not use the Torah as a political weapon; and (iii) we should pursue good deeds for their inherent worth and in God’s name, but we should not pretend that teaching our children to volunteer at a soup kitchen is a worthy substitute for meaningfully connecting them to Judaism’s rich and sacred heritage. Let’s do both, but prioritize accordingly.

Tikkun olam should be the dessert, not the main course. Only after the foundation has been poured can a strong house be built. Let’s use this moment to erect a third Temple in the form of American Jewish religious and Zionist engagement. Once our feet are firmly planted in our past, we can work toward a better future for this wonderful world.

Ari M. Berman lives in West Caldwell and is a member of that town’s Congregation Agudath Israel. He is an attorney.

Opinion

comments