For all of my adult life -- I'm 32 -- Jewish leaders have lamented this trend toward drift, assimilation and inactivity, and they have tried to develop ways to combat it. From my perspective, one of the best ideas is to employ social action as a gateway to Judaism.

So I was surprised last week to read Elliot Wilner's Kol Hakehilla column in these pages ("Tikkun olam should not define Judaism," http://bit.ly/cEkFnX). He argues that humanitarianism has its place, but not as a core value of Judaism.

Wilner correctly points out that tikkun olam should not be the only tenet of Judaism. I share his concern that not enough of us count Torah and a connection with the land of Israel (to name two) as central to our Jewish identity. But that is not his bottom line.

Rather, he quotes Abraham Joshua Heschel (of all people) as saying that tikkun olam could result in "the assimilation of Judaism." We should attend to the world's problems, Wilner writes, but we should not equate that with Judaism.

He notes that other religious denominations and secular groups are committed to tikkun olam. That leads him to ask, "If [tikkun olam] is, indeed, Judaism's core value, why be Jewish?"

I do not see it that way. Nor do many of my peers.

Take, for example, another article that appeared last week, about the Jeremiah Fellowship ("Creating well-being: Fellowship places community organizing skills in Jewish context," http://bit.ly/cPedOF). I am one of 16 participants in this fellowship, which is sponsored by Jews United for Justice. The article accurately describes the fellowship as "mix[ing] Jewish ethical teachings with workshops on galvanizing the community around social justice causes."

We have learned about the modern definition of tikkun olam. We have learned to organize to address issues in our communities. We have learned to fund-raise. But first comes the "Jewish": We begin most sessions by studying a Jewish text and how it relates to the social justice issues on which we are focusing.

The group ranges in age from about 25 to about 35. We come from all kinds of backgrounds -- geographical, professional and religious, for starters. A few of us "go to temple" or have strong connections with nonsynagogue Jewish organizations; others came in with few ties to the Jewish community. But we all have the opportunity to learn from one another.

Each fellow has committed to taking on a leadership role after the fellowship concludes in July, either with Jews United for Justice or with another D.C.-area advocacy group. More than one of us will be looking for opportunities within the Jewish community, or at least in roles that allow us to maintain the link between activism and Judaism.

In short, our Jewish identities are evolving, we are connected with at least one local Jewish organization, and we are dedicated to becoming future community leaders and possibly future Jewish community leaders. And tikkun olam is what brought us together.

And tikkun olam is important even for Jews, of all ages, who are not part of such an intensive program. Just hours before I read Wilner's piece, my girlfriend and I happened to have a conversation about social activism in the synagogue context.

She told me that a synagogue's approach to social action is the No. 1 element she would consider when deciding whether to join -- not the only one, to be sure, but the most important. From her perspective, Judaism's approach to social action is in large part what makes it feel relevant and important in today's world.

Wilner notes that the message "Tikkun Olam É Repair the World É A Core Value of Beth El" is prominently displayed at his synagogue. That emphasis should not exclude other values that are central to our faith (Torah, Israel). And if Beth El wants to attract people such as my girlfriend, they'll keep it.

It might just bring some new people into the community. And that's not a bad core value, either.

Dan Gordon is an editor and writer living in Arlington.