Originally published in the Jewish Herald-Voice, 2026/5787 Rosh Hashanah Magazine

For decades, progressive Judaism has focused much energy on Tikkun Olam, the mitzvah to repair the world. Though efforts have made notable differences in healthcare, women’s rights, LGBTQ rights, voting rights, climate change, separation of church and state, etc., few if any have remained repaired permanently. All are fraying at the edges. Despite our aspiration and inspiration, eventually we learn the truth that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Even so, we will surely not relax our efforts to repair these issues permanently. But at what cost? I fear that if we don’t ensure the future for Jews and Judaism, then our efforts to repair the world will have surely been for naught, if not terribly overstated.

On the High Holy Days, teshuvah must come before tikkun olam. Teshuvah enables us to clean our proverbial slate and proclaim without transgression or inhibition, “I am a Jew!” Writing in 1927, French Jewish poet and writer, Edmund Fleg, wrote (excerpted):

I am a Jew because my faith demands of me no abdication of the mind.
I am a Jew because at every time when despair cries out, I hope.
I am a Jew because the word of the people Israel is the oldest and the newest.
I am a Jew because the promise of Israel is the universal promise.
I am a Jew because, for Israel, humanity is not created; we are creating it.

First, we proclaim, “I am a Jew!” Second, we tether our deeds to Torah’s wisdom as a lifeline to mend the world’s brokenness, build bridges across its chasms, and bring our people’s hopefulness to those who have suffered without it. Those on the extremes of Judaism see no way to fix the world except in their own way. But the chasm between them is where the answer lies. It’s the reasonable middle that the rationalist, Maimonides (Rambam), identifies as the place where faith and reason meet. There we fulfill our duty to our Creator and Torah, and its inherent wisdom in deeds we do for Jews, for the stranger who lives among us, and for our enemies whose hearts are turned, not by might, not by power, but by My spirit, alone (Jeremiah 4:6).

Our aspiration and inspiration originate deep within us but not without teshuvah that makes clear our covenant with G-d and Torah. The High Holy Days are not just a departure from work so that we can pray. The High Holy Days are an essential time to prepare ourselves to encounter and even repair the world, not because it feels good to do it, but because the Torah commands us, You shall not remain indifferent (Deuteronomy 22:3).

On this New Year 5787, perhaps we might know how to repair the world, but let us also know why we should persist in our Judaism and do this work. If we can do both, then Jews and Judaism will still be there when the world is repaired and at peace.

L’Shalom,