Edited by Sarah Breger. Thanks to Rachel E. Gross, Anna Isaacs, Josh Tapper and Caitlin Yoshiko Kandil
Glitch — Abracadabra — Tikkun Olam — Jewish Geography — Mensch — Nice Jewish Boy (NJB)
Throughout the Mishnah, tikkun olam is invoked as a way to rectify these difficult situations, ensuring that justice is served and relationships are repaired. It is not until the medieval period, however, that tikkun olam begins to take on a broader meaning beyond legal matters.
In the 16th century, the kabbalistic tradition of Lurianic Kabbalah, developed by Rabbi Isaac Luria in Safed, Israel, brought a new dimension to tikkun olam. According to Lurianic teachings, the world was shattered at its creation, and it is the task of humanity to repair this brokenness by performing mitzvot and acts of kindness. Tikkun olam, in this context, becomes a cosmic imperative, a way for individuals to participate in the ongoing creation and restoration of the world.
But it wasn’t until the 20th century that tikkun olam truly entered the mainstream of Jewish thought and practice. The phrase gained popularity in the American Jewish community during the civil rights movement of the 1960s, when Jews were actively involved in the fight for racial equality. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, a prominent figure in the civil rights movement, famously marched with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in Selma, Alabama, and emphasized the moral imperative of tikkun olam in his teachings.
Today, tikkun olam has become a central pillar of Jewish social justice work, encompassing a wide range of issues from poverty and hunger to environmental sustainability and human rights. It reflects a commitment to repairing the world and creating a more just and compassionate society, rooted in Jewish values and teachings.
So while tikkun olam may not have ancient origins in Jewish tradition, its evolution over time has made it a foundational concept in contemporary Jewish life, inspiring generations of Jews to engage in acts of repair and justice in the world.
For more on the history and significance of tikkun olam, check out our special section on “The Ethics of Repair”
If a man reaches his wife before the writ and declares that the divorce is canceled, then it will be canceled; if he does not make it in time, the divorce will stand. This rule, introduced by Rabbi Gamaliel the Elder, deviates from the previous tradition where a man could declare a change of heart at any time, even without his wife’s knowledge. Rabbi Gamaliel established this rule “for the sake of tikkun olam,” which in this context refers to maintaining social order rather than social justice. The goal was to create a society where it was clear who was divorced and who was not.
Tikkun olam is also referenced in the ancient Aleinu prayer, which is recited daily. The line “le-taken olam be-malkhut Shaddai” [to fix the world under the Kingdom of the Almighty] is surrounded by verses describing a time when idolatry will be abolished and all will call out God’s name. Here, tikkun olam is a messianic plea where God is the one perfecting the world, not humans.
The modern interpretation of tikkun olam largely stems from the ideas of Rabbi Isaac Luria, a 16th-century mystic and kabbalist. Luria believed that humans had a role in repairing the world by collecting scattered holy sparks through prayer, Torah study, and performing mitzvot (commandments), rather than relying solely on God for the repair.
This shift marked a change in Jewish theology, making Jews partners in the act of tikkun olam. Over time, the term fell out of popular usage but resurfaced in the 20th century with a focus on social justice, influenced by Jewish philosophers like Hermann Cohen. This evolution aligned with the cultural values of American Jews and gained political connotations, becoming a universal call for change that transcends Judaism.
Despite criticism and concerns about overuse, tikkun olam has become a central concept in Jewish-American identity. It has inspired social action programs and movements, reflecting a commitment to repairing the world and promoting justice. According to Fishman, Jewish geography is a way for Jews to feel connected to an extended family, despite differences in customs, foods, and languages. It allows for a sense of solidarity and a curious interest in people’s origins. The term “Jewish geography” has unclear origins, but has been circulating since at least the 1970s. Jewish geography helps Jews construct a rooted identity that transcends national borders, emphasizing connections based on time, memory, and history. It is seen as a sign of a healthy community and reflects the human need for connection, especially in small groups. Jewish geography expresses a sense of solidarity and a genuine interest in people’s backgrounds.
Gentle, pious and scholarly, this new masculine model was the original yeshiva bocher—a stark contrast to the fierce Roman warrior of the time.
By the 16th century, this Jewish archetype had a name in Europe—and it wasn’t NJB. The Yiddish word is edelkayt—which derives from edel, or noble—referred to “a quality of gentleness, almost softness,” says Boyarin. Yet this “ideal Jewish male femme” was also viewed as the pinnacle of manliness, a sexual force to be reckoned with. Outsiders, however, twisted edelkayt into something negative, tapping into the medieval antisemitic myth that Jewish men menstruated as a result of womanly excesses or dealings with the devil. In the 1890s, Austrian-Jewish psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud only made things worse by labeling homosexuality a mental illness. At the time, homosexuals were identified by their feminine traits—and who better fit that description than the Jewish man? “The most manly Jew is more feminine than the least manly Aryan,” wrote the Austrian philosopher Otto Weininger. This view became the basis for considering Jews degenerate, says Boyarin. “What was taken as a very positive way of being in the world gets transmuted into a nebbishy, ineffective—particularly sexually ineffective character.”
When Zionism gained momentum in the early 20th century, its founders sought to distance the new Jewish man from this stereotype. “Our starting point is to take the typical Yid of today and to imagine his diametrical opposite,” wrote Zionist leader Ze’ev Jabotinsky. “Because the Yid is ugly, sickly, and lacks decorum, we shall endow the ideal image of the Hebrew with masculine beauty. The Yid has accepted submission and, therefore, the Hebrew ought to learn how to command… the Hebrew should look the world straight in the eye and declare: ‘I am a Hebrew!’”
This prescription didn’t apply in America, where Jewish-American immigrants faced a different problem: assimilation. For parents, it became imperative to find their children partners who would a) produce more Jews, and b) afford them a “pleasant, secure, respectable, class-appropriate domesticity,” says Daniel Boyarin’s brother Jonathan, a professor of modern Jewish culture at Cornell University. “To me this phrase’s natural home is in a parent’s mouth, saying to a daughter, ‘Why don’t you find a nice Jewish boy?’”
Many Jewish American men embraced the NJB role, while others rebelled, viewing it yet another stereotype to overcome on the path to becoming truly American. “Philip Roth was one of the most important authors to blow this out of the water: that this was a debilitating thing to the Jewish male, rather than a wonderful thing,” says Neil Davison, associate professor of modern Jewish culture at Oregon State University. In Roth’s 1969 Portnoy’s Complaint, Alexander Portnoy rails against his overbearing Jewish mother by becoming a deviant obsessed with shiksas and sex.
“Enough being a nice Jewish boy, publicly pleasing my parents while privately pulling my putz!” he cries. “Enough!”
While there are plenty of less-than-nice Jewish men out there, NJBs remain numerous—and a surplus of Jewish and gentile women (and men!) still yearn for one to call their own. “For whatever reason, Jewish men tend to value warmth, humor, good food, and great libidos—all prime qualities for what most women consider boyfriend material,” says Kristina Grish, author of Boy Vey! The Shiksa’s Guide to Dating Jewish Men. Some men even embrace the expression. One is Adam Cohen, who created the Nice Jewish Guys calendar in 2009, which was graced not with buff athletes but with sweet, mama-loving boys like himself. “I wanted to carry the torch for all nice Jewish guys,” says Cohen, who adds that for him the NJB means something beyond being bookish, nebbishy or even Jewish. “At the core of it, you just have to be respectful,” he says.
Moment Magazine participates in the Amazon Associates program and earns money from qualifying purchases.
Please rewrite this sentence for me.
Source link
