Here's the take of a 74-year old Jewish atheist in a mixed marriage, writing for his kids and grandkids on Rosh Hashanah. I mean no disrespect to anyone, and I hope I won't be vilified for my criticism of the eschatology of other religions.
Rosh Hashanah thoughts on Tikkun Olam (Hebrew for Repairing the World)
The term isn’t in the Torah. It first shows up in the Talmud during the first millennium CE. It also appears in the prayer Aleinu which dates to the 3rd century CE, but only became part of the liturgy in the early 1200s.
The idea of repairing the world starts with the notion that the world is imperfect. A Jew’s duty is to leave it a little better than he found it—i.e., work toward a more perfect world—through a commitment to kindness, charity, social justice and the like.
Judaism generally places greater emphasis on living a righteous and meaningful life in the present (olam ha-zeh) and fulfilling one's duties to God and humanity, rather than obsessing over the details of the afterlife. The general notion is this: believe what you want about the afterlife, but focus on virtue in the current life. Eschatology—heaven and eternal damnation in hell—have no real place in Judaism; they are central to Christianity and Islam.
For me it is the eschatology of the other major religions that is most troubling. One has the sense of the church or mosque saying “suffer the injustice, cruelty, and misfortunes of life, but don’t worry. If you have faith in Jesus (or Mohammed) you will attain bliss after you die.” Christianity, moreover, has this weird notion of human sacrifice to placate god—Jesus is crucified to save us from our sins—and of eternal hell fire if we lack faith. All this is supposed to be the message of a loving god! It is faith rather than righteousness that is fundamental to redemption. All rather too dark for my taste. Judaism, on the other hand, emphasizes one’s behavior in this life. Its eschatology is less important and a little vague. There’s no commitment to a vision of heaven and hell, to resurrection, etc. There is a view that the Messiah—a human leader, descended from King David—will one day bring about an age of political and spiritual redemption: universal peace, justice, and righteousness. War will be abolished and all nations will live in harmony. A somewhat brighter vision to which we can aspire. No hellfire. No damnation.
My guess is that Jesus’s view was closer to that of Judaism than all of the weird stuff in the book of Revelation, written after his time. But I’m sure knowledgeable scholars can explain why I am wrong.
All this said, adherence to the details of Judaism with its Bronze age-Iron age dietary and social prescriptions and religiosity seems weird in the 21st century.
Interestingly, the poem Abou Ben Adhem by Leigh Hunt (1784-1859)—a Christian writing about a Muslim—has always struck me as more Jewish than Islamic or Christian. Those of us who suffered an (almost) Victorian education were made to memorize it, and recently it has been playing in my mind.
Thank you so much for the thoughtful reply, you're right about Tikkun Olam, I should have mentioned that. At very least, I hope the piece is what prompted to write you own very cogent thoughts about these questions down
Robert ... I see God as the creator of the Universe and the laws that govern it. He made us in his image, and sent his divine son to redeem us. I can think of no greater love than that! Perhaps I have a simple faith from a theological perspective, but it has been refined in the furnace of the battlefield. By the way, we lived in the same dorm as freshmen at Penn.
Bob - I love the care and depth and time you took to think through these questions so seriously and rigorously. One of the things I loved about my St. John's program was the opportunity to ask these kinds of questions and more through the lens of the great thinkers throughout the ages who asked these questions constantly - I don't know how much we do that now. In the course I developed for my HS students around the Great Books, we are reading Book I of the Nicomachean Ethics and discussing Aristotle's definition of happiness - I told the kids that no one in schools (including graduate programs in philosophy) really asks these kinds of questions anymore and actually want to explore deeply the possible answers. Aristotle arrives at a few possibilities, but eventually having a purpose is a key element. I think that captures much of what you're ruminating on. A number of years ago I came across a book in a bookstore in California - Robert Nozick's The Examined Life - I had not heard of him then but his tome is next to my bedside and I've read the essays over and over - some are really challenging - but I was reminded of his meditation on the Holocaust by your piece. You might want to pick it up. He has a similar style and flavor to your writing. In any case, hope you are well and what a thoughtful essay. Loved the AI shout out!
Here's the take of a 74-year old Jewish atheist in a mixed marriage, writing for his kids and grandkids on Rosh Hashanah. I mean no disrespect to anyone, and I hope I won't be vilified for my criticism of the eschatology of other religions.
Rosh Hashanah thoughts on Tikkun Olam (Hebrew for Repairing the World)
The term isn’t in the Torah. It first shows up in the Talmud during the first millennium CE. It also appears in the prayer Aleinu which dates to the 3rd century CE, but only became part of the liturgy in the early 1200s.
The idea of repairing the world starts with the notion that the world is imperfect. A Jew’s duty is to leave it a little better than he found it—i.e., work toward a more perfect world—through a commitment to kindness, charity, social justice and the like.
Judaism generally places greater emphasis on living a righteous and meaningful life in the present (olam ha-zeh) and fulfilling one's duties to God and humanity, rather than obsessing over the details of the afterlife. The general notion is this: believe what you want about the afterlife, but focus on virtue in the current life. Eschatology—heaven and eternal damnation in hell—have no real place in Judaism; they are central to Christianity and Islam.
For me it is the eschatology of the other major religions that is most troubling. One has the sense of the church or mosque saying “suffer the injustice, cruelty, and misfortunes of life, but don’t worry. If you have faith in Jesus (or Mohammed) you will attain bliss after you die.” Christianity, moreover, has this weird notion of human sacrifice to placate god—Jesus is crucified to save us from our sins—and of eternal hell fire if we lack faith. All this is supposed to be the message of a loving god! It is faith rather than righteousness that is fundamental to redemption. All rather too dark for my taste. Judaism, on the other hand, emphasizes one’s behavior in this life. Its eschatology is less important and a little vague. There’s no commitment to a vision of heaven and hell, to resurrection, etc. There is a view that the Messiah—a human leader, descended from King David—will one day bring about an age of political and spiritual redemption: universal peace, justice, and righteousness. War will be abolished and all nations will live in harmony. A somewhat brighter vision to which we can aspire. No hellfire. No damnation.
My guess is that Jesus’s view was closer to that of Judaism than all of the weird stuff in the book of Revelation, written after his time. But I’m sure knowledgeable scholars can explain why I am wrong.
All this said, adherence to the details of Judaism with its Bronze age-Iron age dietary and social prescriptions and religiosity seems weird in the 21st century.
Interestingly, the poem Abou Ben Adhem by Leigh Hunt (1784-1859)—a Christian writing about a Muslim—has always struck me as more Jewish than Islamic or Christian. Those of us who suffered an (almost) Victorian education were made to memorize it, and recently it has been playing in my mind.
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:—
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
"What writest thou?"—The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow men."
The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blest,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.
Shana Tova.
Thank you so much for the thoughtful reply, you're right about Tikkun Olam, I should have mentioned that. At very least, I hope the piece is what prompted to write you own very cogent thoughts about these questions down
Robert ... I see God as the creator of the Universe and the laws that govern it. He made us in his image, and sent his divine son to redeem us. I can think of no greater love than that! Perhaps I have a simple faith from a theological perspective, but it has been refined in the furnace of the battlefield. By the way, we lived in the same dorm as freshmen at Penn.
Kevin Jordan
Bob - I love the care and depth and time you took to think through these questions so seriously and rigorously. One of the things I loved about my St. John's program was the opportunity to ask these kinds of questions and more through the lens of the great thinkers throughout the ages who asked these questions constantly - I don't know how much we do that now. In the course I developed for my HS students around the Great Books, we are reading Book I of the Nicomachean Ethics and discussing Aristotle's definition of happiness - I told the kids that no one in schools (including graduate programs in philosophy) really asks these kinds of questions anymore and actually want to explore deeply the possible answers. Aristotle arrives at a few possibilities, but eventually having a purpose is a key element. I think that captures much of what you're ruminating on. A number of years ago I came across a book in a bookstore in California - Robert Nozick's The Examined Life - I had not heard of him then but his tome is next to my bedside and I've read the essays over and over - some are really challenging - but I was reminded of his meditation on the Holocaust by your piece. You might want to pick it up. He has a similar style and flavor to your writing. In any case, hope you are well and what a thoughtful essay. Loved the AI shout out!
https://www.amazon.com/Examined-Life-Philosophical-Meditations/dp/0671725017
Thanks Steve for thoughtful reply, and will get the book!