you will live
the gift of tikkun olam
I imagine we’re familiar with the song, “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands.” We learn, moving through various verses, “He’s got my brothers and my sisters in his hands… He’s got the sun and the rain in his hands… He’s got the rivers and the mountains in his hands… He’s got the oceans and the seas in his hands… He’s got the whole world in his hands.”
He’s got the whole cosmos in his hands!
When I was at seminary, one of my roommates read the magazine Tikkun. (Which is no longer published.) After getting to know him, I could easily understand why he was so interested in that journal — but it wasn’t until many years later that I fully came to appreciate the concept of what’s known as tikkun olam.
Last year Sapir magazine had an issue dedicated to the theme of “Chosenness.” Editor-in-chief Bret Stephens in the article, “Jews were Chosen to Think,” speaks of the number of achievements of the Jewish people, excessively so in terms of their population.
He cites as a key feature that “Jews think about repair.” This is an especially important point. “Repair” in Hebrew is tikkun. Tikkun olam is “repair of the world.” It is an all-encompassing repair. It speaks to anything that is damaged and in need of some serious tender loving care.
It is said of tikkun olam that it “literally means to do something with the world that will not only fix any damage, but also improve upon it, preparing it to enter the ultimate state for which it was created.” We are called “to repair the world so that its Creator is no longer hidden within, but shines through each thing in magnificent, harmonious beauty.”
In other words, we can sing, honoring the one who created us, “He’s got the whole world in his hands.”
That leads us to the tenet of ECO which I’m addressing, “Faithful stewardship of all of life.” (ECO is A Covenant Order of Evangelical Presbyterians.)
[As before, though I am speaking of a particular denomination, lessons can be learned for all.]
I like one of the points it makes. “Jesus teaches us that we are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our soul, and with all our mind. There is no part of human life that is off limits to the sanctifying claims of God.” As mentioned already, that is pretty all-encompassing!
Though the term doesn’t appear as such in the Bible, there are a vast number of scriptures relating to the theme of tikkun olam and to its claims of God being hallowed without limit. With all of that in mind, I want to focus on Jeremiah 29 and Luke 10.
The prophet Jeremiah lived in the late 7th century and early 6th century BC. This is a time when the Babylonian Empire has conquered the Assyrian Empire and is moving to the juicy target of Egypt. Unfortunately for Jerusalem and the surrounding country of Judea, the highway runs right through their territory. They are of little consequence, and they are no match for the Babylonians, the superpower of their time.
With those who have eyes to see and ears to hear, that big bad crew are on the way.
Jeremiah does his utmost to convince his fellow citizens of the futility of waging war against this behemoth. Adding to his misfortune is the fact that his society is rife with corruption and iniquity. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that his compatriots defy (often violently defy) his message on resisting the Babylonians. They want to stick to their wicked ways.
When the Babylonians meet armed opposition, the unthinkable happens. Jerusalem is invaded and the temple is destroyed. It was commonly believed that God would protect the temple. Soon thereafter, the exiles, the deportations, begin. Many of those capable of leading resistance are removed from the scene.
So there’s a bit of background for Jeremiah’s letter to them.
Surprisingly (or not surprisingly, coming as it does from the prophet), there is no request for rebellion, but only for residence. There is no appeal for agitation, but for settling down and being productive members of society. Remember, they are conquered people. They have no desire in getting used to this state of affairs.
Indeed, Jeremiah says the Lord wants them to “build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce” (v. 5). Seriously? All of that is the very definition of settling down. And planting gardens? If they didn’t know better, that sounds a lot like putting down roots!
Maybe this is the origin of that revered bit of wisdom: bloom where you are planted.
But look at the next verse. “Take wives and have sons and daughters,” they are instructed, “take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease.” Regarding that last part, the Revised English Bible reads, “do not dwindle away.” Do not shrivel up.
Believe it or not, it gets even worse. “But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare” (vv. 6–7). The word translated “welfare” is the Hebrew term שָׁלוֹם (shalom). Pray for the place of your exile. In its shalom you will find your shalom. Shalom is such an expansive and sprawling concept. Our word “peace” scarcely does it justice. Think of it as “heaven on earth.”
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The exiles might wonder, “How long are we actually supposed to be here? How do we get out of this? That can’t be right. What are we expected to do? Invite those folks over for dinner? You do remember, Lord, it wasn’t our idea to move into this neighborhood?”
A recent reflection by writer Keaton Swett offers a useful modern parallel. In his article, “Things Worth Remembering: To Sit at the Same Table,” he shares some thoughts on breaking bread with those we would prefer not to. In this case, however, it’s not a question of being a stranger in a strange land, but of sitting down with family. (Which can bear a strangeness of its own.)
He begins with March 2020 when Covid began spreading all over the world. Things began shutting down. Masks became compulsory. Those who were able to started doing work from home. Most of us learned about Zoom. And of course, there was the social distancing. Make sure you do not touch someone else!
At the time, he and his family were living in North Carolina. As he says, “Working remotely became as common as a glove compartment full of masks. Like everyone else, our lives were upended. The everyday connective tissue of friends, co-workers, and community thinned almost overnight. Above the chaos of it all, I felt a pull toward home,” which for him was New Hampshire. They eventually did make the move.
They found it a great relief to be among family in person, in flesh and blood. Also, as noted, they would often have dinner together. Big surprise, they didn’t always agree. In fact, as Swett confesses, “There were moments when conversations grew uncomfortable, when a sibling or parent said something I disagreed with sharply. But those moments were consistently counterbalanced by reminders of why our imperfect but precious familial bonds mattered more than consensus.”
He recalls one time in particular. He speaks of having a “long conversation with [his] mom, who was struggling with the choices of a younger sister. It can be a tricky thing to balance love and loyalty within a family.” But he considered the damage that fracturing the relationship would bring. “‘Mom,’ I said. ‘It’s okay that the two of you disagree, but don’t let this become something that makes her feel unwelcome at the family table.’”
Clearly, this can apply to all kinds of differences, especially political differences. Sadly, that divisiveness is actively encouraged in our society. The media seems devoted to deepening conflict and cynicism. We are given the model of bad faith “gotcha” questions.
I mention Keaton Swett and his story to draw a comparison to the counsel Jeremiah gives the exiles. Think of the people surrounding you — as disagreeable and hostile as they may be, to be a sort of surrogate family: a proposition which admittedly sounds impossible and insane. Nonetheless, the prophet directs them to really invest their lives there.
The exiles are given the promise, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare [your shalom] and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” That can fit nicely as a word of individual comfort, but in its original context, it is a reassurance to the community at large — to all of those who have been forcibly relocated.
Moving to an encounter with Jesus, we’re given another glimpse of what tikkun olam (“repairing the world”) entails.
In Luke 10, we’re told an expert in the law wants to test Jesus. He wants to see what actions warrant a guarantee of eternal life. As we might guess from the word “test,” his motives are not entirely pure. He’s posing one of those bad faith “gotcha” questions. Still, Jesus engages him. This fellow is knowledgeable, so what does the law say?
Our friend answers, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus responds, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” So he’s done the easy part: talking about it. But if he does it, as Jesus says, “you will live.” You will live. Consider the many depths of meaning that has.
As the ECO tenet tells us, “Every Christian is called to extend the lordship of Christ to every corner of the world.” Tikkun olam is not tribal.
John chapter 3. For God so loved the world… For God so loved the cosmos…
Love the Lord your God with all your heart. Don’t let your heart be hardened.
Love the Lord your God with all your soul. Let it be flooded with gratitude.
Love the Lord your God with all your strength. Do not fear taking that step of caring and restoring.
Love the Lord your God with all your mind. Dare to dream. Dare to dream holy dreams.
Love your neighbor as yourself. Consider as your neighbor the earth, the animals, even your enemy. See what God will do!
We are called to repair the world so that its Creator is no longer hidden within, but shines through each thing in magnificent, harmonious beauty. And it begins — not with a summit, manifesto, or photo op — but with a garden swap, a dinner invitation, a prayer offered for a city you did not choose, a hand extended to a neighbor you did not expect.
Heart. Soul. Strength. Mind. This is how the light gets in. This is how the world, piece by piece, is made whole. This is how God’s song becomes our song. “He’s got the whole world in his hands.” Love God. Love your neighbor. Love the earth.
Do this — and you will live.
