The Messianic Ideal

American Jewry is currently in a moment of uncertainty. The country that once offered physical security and material success under the banner of liberty and equality now seems less confident in its founding ideals. This instability has prompted varying reactions from Jewish communities and institutions. Despite their differences, these reactions share a common denominator: the belief that there is “something to be done” that can rectify the situation. But whether this is a trend that will dissipate or a reality that is here to stay, the public’s preoccupation with Jewry calls to mind the fact that our relative safety in America is an exception to a history defined by persecution. This broader reality can prompt us to reflect on a sustaining force throughout those centuries— hope in the coming of the Messiah.

The Messianic era is not clearly defined; different sources have radically different visions of what it might look like. Some suggest that it will spark a change in human nature, where freedom to choose good or evil is replaced by the universal desire to act righteously.¹ Others offer a more rational interpretation, arguing that it will be characterized primarily by a change in the relationship between Jews and Gentiles.1 Beneath these different interpretations, however, is an assumption of historical coherence. I refer to this axiom as the Messianic ideal. The Messianic ideal presupposes belief in the Messianic era; it allows us to view the events that occur in our time as meaningful by virtue of their ultimate destination, while simultaneously recognizing that the destination is predestined and not subject to change. The Messianic ideal therefore endows the minutiae of our lives with both greater and lesser significance than we might otherwise give them — greater significance, because each moment in time represents a step on the ladder towards the Messianic era, and lesser significance, because the events themselves cannot change the course of history. While theological, this outlook does not include a specific vision of what the Messianic era looks like. Instead, it entails belief in a framework that endows the movement of history with meaning it would otherwise lack.

The Messianic ideal therefore endows the minutiae of our lives with both greater and lesser significance than we might otherwise give them

The writing of theorist Walter Benjamin illustrates this commitment to the Messianic ideal. Benjamin, a German Jewish intellectual, lived in the decades prior to World War II. In his work On the Concept of History, he describes what he calls“the angel of history.” He writes,

His face is turned towards the past. Where a chain of events appears before us, he sees one single catastrophe, which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it at his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from paradise and has got caught in his wings; it is so strong that the angel can no longer close them².

The angel that Benjamin describes is powerless, at the mercy of forces beyond his control. These forces are not, as one might imagine, the cruelty the angel has suffered through the actions of others. In fact, the angel is merely an observer of this cruelty, the “catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage.” Rather, the forces that affect the angel are historical forces that propel the angel toward “paradise.” The angel’s position as an observer is also unusual. What might seem to us like isolated and distinct actions appear to it as facets of a single disaster. The angel interprets each moment of history within a framework that gives meaning to events that would otherwise seem arbitrary or isolated from one another. This is what Benjamin means when he says, “where a chain of events appears before us, he sees one single catastrophe.” While powerless in the face of history, the angel is endowed with unique insight that enables it to transcend the meaninglessness of the individual moment and contextualize it within a broader framework. The angel’s relationship towards these individual moments is thus characterized by the greater and lesser significance of the Messianic ideal; individual events lose a sense of independent meaning, but gain significance as part of the holistic framework that presents itself as the “single catastrophe.”

The angel Benjamin describes is characterized further by its interest in the past rather than the future. The angel does not see paradise; it has no idea what it might look like. It sees and grasps only the catastrophe. And yet this understanding is intertwined with its final destination. It is only by virtue of the storm that blows from paradise that the angel can view the horrific events of the past as facets of a “single disaster” instead of disconnected individual moments. This prompts the reader to view paradise as a negative phenomenon – the absence of suffering and the opposite of catastrophe, rather than a paradigm of eternal bliss and satisfaction.

Theodor Adorno, a friend of Benjamin, developed an aphorism that further illustrates the “negative” characterization of the Messianic ideal. He wrote, “the only philosophy that can be responsibly practiced in face of despair is the attempt to contemplate all things as they would present themselves from the standpoint of redemption. Knowledge has no light but that shed on the world by redemption: all else is reconstruction, mere technique.”³ Adorno’s instructions share with Benjamin the emphasis on redemption as a standpoint from which to look backwards at the past unfolding, rather than solely as a goal to be reached. Just as redemption plays a negative role for Benjamin, it plays a negative role for Adorno; in both cases, it is only visible through the light it sheds on the past. Adorno’s emphasis on understanding reveals a second similarity with Benjamin’s description. Adorno uses the “light” of “knowledge” as the reward that redemption bestows upon the witness to the destruction of the past, evoking the use of redemption as the key to the contextualization of suffering. This contextualization is essential to the angel’s alternative view of the past as a single catastrophe.

Benjamin’s angel can allow us to develop a sense of faith in the historical process rooted in contextualization of the past, even without a clear vision of its final destination. As paradise affects the angel through the light it sheds on the past, we can grasp the significance of the Messianic era without relying on an explicit vision imported from religious doctrine. Moreover, just as the angel subsumes instances of historical cruelty under a framework that gives them meaning, we can use the Messianic ideal to adopt a contemplative stance towards the events of history by contextualizing them within a broader historical narrative. Through this orientation, each moment, rather than an isolated, meaningless event, becomes a precursor to the Messianic era. Belief in this framework does not allow us to change the course of history; nor does it permit us to see ourselves as above the historical process. Rather, it counsels submission to fate. But this submission is empowering, because it arises from a framework that allows us to grasp the broader significance of individual moments.

Belief in this framework does not allow us to change the course of history; nor does it permit us to see ourselves as above the historical process. Rather, it counsels submission to fate.

One might argue that by using Benjamin’s angel one can covertly communicate a religious idea under the guise of secular writing, thus presenting it as more convincing or universal than it actually is. By invoking Benjamin’s angel, however, I aim to illustrate a religious axiom (the Messianic ideal) stripped of its explicit theological baggage, not to present it as though it were secular. The framework I describe is theological; it requires a commitment to the ideals of Judaism, even where that commitment is paired with skepticism towards any of the explicit visions developed by commentators throughout the centuries. I aim not to prove the existence of something through incontrovertible evidence, but to identify a shared substratum beneath the many differing opinions on the Messianic era – to demonstrate the precondition for such viewpoints.

With that said, some criticism of the Messianic ideal likely derives not from genuine scientific skepticism but from the effects of material prosperity. In times of prosperity, the power of the Messianic ideal diminishes. We have little incentive to grasp for a narrative of historical coherence when the present seems so fruitful. Individual events become not an obstacle to be recontextualized as part of a more optimistic historical whole, but moments to be savored independent of the perceived past or future. But while it may lose its hold in times of prosperity, the Messianic ideal becomes more appealing in moments of historical oppression. In such environments, the present can only be endured by subsuming it under a broader historical framework. Throughout centuries of persecution in Europe, the sense of meaning in the historical process gave purpose to the lives of Jews whose sense of physical agency was far from what it is today.

The shifting influence of the Messianic ideal can illuminate aspects of our current moment in history. Benjamin wrote his description of the angel of history in 1940, a moment when Jews were perhaps at their most powerless. As American Jews, we’ve enjoyed relative safety throughout the past decades. This longstanding security can facilitate a dismissive outlook towards concerns about rising antisemitism. Such an outlook, however, entails a faith in the stability of our present circumstances: a belief that our status in American society will remain intact in the coming decades. While it may or may not be justified, this belief cannot coexist with genuine commitment to the Messianic ideal, which requires that we recognize the instability of each individual moment of history. To accept this framework, we must acknowledge that our status in American society (and, by extension, our physical security) may change drastically without much warning.

But while this alternative outlook may appear pessimistic, our unease towards the future need not be our only emotion. By recalling the Messianic ideal, we can regain a sense of control over our fate: one which is rooted not in physical agency, but in a capacity to reframe the present. The fact that we, as a people, have endured despite centuries of persecution suggests that our submission to the course of history is not merely a dream without basis in reality. Instead, it is a source of hope that, in the midst of persecution, can propel us towards a brighter future.

Bibliography

Adorno, Theodor W. Minima Moralia: Reflections from Damaged Life. Translated by E. F. N.

Jephcott. London: New Left Books, 1974.

Benjamin, Walter. “On the Concept of History.” 1940. Accessed March 15, 2026. https://www.sfu.ca/~andrewf/CONCEPT2.html.

Sefaria. “The Messianic Era.” Accessed March 15, 2026. https://www.sefaria.org/topics/the-messianic-era?Sort=Relevance&tab=notable-sources.