Thoughts on Parashat Tetzaveh 5785
One day, two old friends, Art and Joe, were sitting in a café, sipping their tea and arguing—like they had for the past 40 years—about when and how the Messiah would come.
“I’m telling you, Joe,” Art said, waving his spoon for emphasis, “the world is going to fall apart first. Total disaster! People will forget how to have a normal conversation, the price of everything will skyrocket, and absolute nonsense will be treated as wisdom. Then the Messiah will come to fix it all.”
Joe shook his head. “Art, my friend, you’re too dramatic. The world is improving! Technology, medicine, Jewish learning—it’s all progress. The Messiah will come when we’ve done our part to make things better. He’s not showing up to clean a mess; he’s coming to put on the finishing touch!”
Just then, their waitress walked over and placed the bill on the table. Art took one look at the total and turned pale. “Oy! If that’s not a sign of the end times, I don’t know what is!”
Joe patted his friend’s hand and smiled. “Or maybe it just means we need to tip well and keep making the world a better place.”
The Jerusalem Temple holds immense significance in Judaism—not just as a physical structure, but as a defining force in Jewish history. Its very existence shapes how we divide our past into distinct eras. The destruction of the Second Temple didn’t just mark the loss of a building; it ended the period of Temple-centered Judaism and ushered in the Rabbinic era, the framework we still live by today. As for the future? We can’t fully grasp what a Third Temple might mean, but for many religious Jews, the idea stirs something deep—something felt not just in the mind, but in the kishkes.
You’ve probably heard the classic rabbinic view on prophecy—that it ended with the start of the Rabbinic era, and anyone claiming to be a prophet today is simply a fraud. In this view, the Rabbis took over the role once held by the Prophets. But did prophecy truly disappear? Not entirely. The Mishnah and Talmud contain prophetic visions, and here’s one of them:
[Rabbi Eliezer haGadol] also said: In the times of the approach of the Messiah, impudence will increase and high costs will pile up. Although the vine shall bring forth its fruit, wine will nevertheless be expensive. And the monarchy shall turn to heresy, and there will be no one to give reproof about this. The meeting place of the Sages will become a place of promiscuity, and the Galilee shall be destroyed, and the Gavlan will be desolate, and the men of the border shall go round from city to city to seek charity, but they will find no mercy. And the wisdom of scribes will putrefy, and people who fear sin will be held in disgust, and the truth will be absent. The youth will shame the face of elders, elders will stand before minors. Normal family relations will be ruined: A son will disgrace a father; a daughter will rise up against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. A man’s enemies will be the members of his household. The face of the generation will be like the face of a dog; a son will no longer be ashamed before his father. And upon what is there for us to rely? Only upon our Father in heaven. (Mishnah Sotah 9:15)
This vision is the foundation of one of the two main messianic concepts in rabbinic Judaism. Simply put, redemption will only come after the world hits rock bottom—total moral and social collapse. Things have to get really bad before they can get better, and only then will Moshiach arrive to set things right. In this view, Moshiach isn’t just part of the process; he’s the only one who can fix the world. It’s a perspective rooted in a kind of historical or theological fatalism—the idea that human history is entirely in God’s hands, and there’s little we can do about it.
The second vision of redemption, also rooted in the Hebrew Bible, takes a very different approach. Instead of a sudden transformation, this view sees redemption as a gradual process, shaped by human effort—our morality, our culture, our choices. And the Jewish people play a key role. If we’re worthy, miracles may accompany the process. If not, history will simply unfold in a way that leads us there naturally. Some sages even taught that life in the Messianic era won’t look all that different—except that Israel will no longer be ruled by other nations. In this view, redemption isn’t something we wait for—it’s something we build, step by step.
From this second vision comes an idea we all know well: tikkun olam, repairing the world. Here, redemption isn’t something we wait for—it’s something we help create. Every person has a role to play, whether through moral teachings, cultural influence, education, or technological innovation. Step by step, we move the world closer to its perfected state. And when the time comes, Moshiach won’t arrive to fix a broken world—just to put on the finishing touch.
Both visions of redemption have their variations in terms of the balance between what is Divine and what is human—some see it as mostly in God’s hands, others as something we help bring about. Different Jewish traditions emphasize different views, and that’s perfectly accepted. But the real question isn’t which one is right—it’s whether these ideas inspire us to take action. Because in Judaism, belief isn’t just about ideas; it’s about what we do. The most important thing is not just to hope for redemption, but to take steps, however small, to bring it closer.
Let me end with the final words of the Mishnah I quoted earlier:
Rabbi Pineḥas ben Ya’ir says: Torah study leads to care in the performance of mitzvot. Care in the performance of mitzvot leads to diligence in their observance. Diligence leads to cleanliness of the soul. Cleanliness of the soul leads to abstention from all evil. Abstention from evil leads to purity and the elimination of all base desires. Purity leads to piety. Piety leads to humility. Humility leads to fear of sin. Fear of sin leads to holiness. Holiness leads to the Divine Spirit. The Divine Spirit leads to the resurrection of the dead. (Mishnah Sotah 9:15)
Which brings us back to Art and Joe, sitting in that café. Art saw the bill and declared it a sign of the end times. Joe? He saw it as a reminder to keep doing his part. Maybe the truth is, they were both a little right. The world is messy, but it’s also full of potential. And whether redemption comes in an instant or step by step, our job is the same—tip well, do our part, and keep moving the world forward.
Shabbat Shalom,
Chag Purim Sameach,
Rabbi Mirski
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