Mr. Jonathan Sacks

For anyone still quoting Jonathan Sacks, this is your final warning

I know I don’t usually judge people, at least not in public, but let’s make an exception here! Honestly, everyone who knows me is probably shocked this guy didn’t make my hit list sooner. There once lived a man named Jonathan Sacks. People more “proper” than myself like to string together a dozen British honorifics when referencing him: Rabbi Lord Sir Professor Chief Philosopher Baron Sacks, zatzal, OBM, OMFG. Yeah, no. I’m calling him what he deserves: Mr. Sacks, and even that’s being generous.

Mr. Sacks is basically a lesbian rabbi. He has the same (lack of) beliefs, ideas and mannerisms of a lesbian. I guess that’s what happens when a man is a vegetarian. His official title was “Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth” which sounds like a name only someone with severe autism could come up with. And even calling him “Chief Rabbi”? Of whom? Of what? The British Jewish community is only slightly more Orthodox than the German Jews were. They are basically the Jewish version of Episcopalians which are really a bunch of atheists masquerading as religious people only because they’d feel too guilty completely leaving their traditions behind. Mr Sacks’s main function was to reassure them that being Jewish meant whatever they wanted it to mean, which basically meant whatever was published in The Guardian that morning. He wasn’t leading a kehillah, he was babysitting the last breaths of European assimilation.

As a reward for his loyalty to the Crown above all else, they granted him a whole menu of honorifics he so proudly touted. And for what? Basically for taking the Anglican tradition and Judeo-coding it. Mr. Sacks was not only not Orthodox, he wouldn’t have passed for Conservative on a good day. He didn’t believe in Hashem. He believed in Cambridge. He believed in Oxford. He believed in saying the word ethics enough times that everyone forgot there’s a G-d who gives actual commandments. The man’s theology was less Rambam, more Church of England.

I had the misfortune of hearing him speak in person once. He spent an hour on stage softly mumbling out a string of vaguely intellectual-sounding TED Talk phrases that had zero to do with religion. Included was not a single word of Torah, nor a clear position on the topic he was brought to speak about which was antisemitism. If you’re going to speak, say something worth hearing. If not, sit down and stop wasting people’s time.

And now I know some of you are clutching your pearls. “How can you speak ill of the dead?” Trust me, I wouldn’t, if he’d ever stop speaking to us from beyond the grave. But he won’t. Instead he left us with an arsenal of pre-written divrei “Torah” so that he could keep spoon-feeding us vague heresy from wherever non-believing atheists are sent after they die. His ghost haunts the YouTube recommendations of of every frying out person who is looking for affirmation that Hashem doesn’t actually exist, but they’re still morally good despite that belief.

I know those of you open minded enough are clamoring for some concrete evidence, so let’s get to it! In one of Mr. Sacks’ books, he proudly said:

“No one creed has a monopoly on spiritual truth.”

Well actually, Judaism does have a monopoly on spiritual truth. We have the truth from Hashem, and no one else has it, hence monopoly. In case you are unsure if you are reading his words correctly, he clarified:

“God has spoken to mankind in many languages: through Judaism to Jews, Christianity to Christians, Islam to Muslims.”

No, Johnny, no! God spoke at Sinai, to the Jews, with fire and thunder. He didn’t speak to Christians. He didn’t speak to Muslims through Islam. He spoke to the Jews, and that’s it. He gave the other religions nothing. To the extent the other religions have something, it is because it was lifted from Judaism. You don’t get to rewrite monotheism in a vegan way so it can be featured in a Guardian op-ed. We have a monopoly on spiritual truth because the Owner of spiritual truth chose us, told us so, and wrote it down.

That statement alone would be enough to earn him a permanent plaque in the Wicked Son Hall of Fame. He’s literally saying, “Why do you guys do all these rituals?” Not us, you guys. He stood outside the faith, clutching his honorary degrees like golden calves, while trying to transform Judaism into a faith that could pass as acceptable with his Oxford peers. When the Torah said Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad, Sacks heard, “We all worship something, and that’s what matters.” He was the first Chief Rabbi in history to openly declare that Judaism is not uniquely true, but just one flavor in God’s spiritual sampler pack. Which, ironically, makes him precisely the kind of son the Haggadah instructs you to knock the teeth out of.

And in case you thought that line was a fluke, this was his core theology. In The Dignity of Difference, he wrote that the Tower of Babel wasn’t a punishment, but a model for global multiculturalism. According to Sacks, God didn’t scatter humanity to thwart arrogance, he just wanted to throw them a diversity party. His takeaway from Berashis wasn’t “fear Hashem.” It was “celebrate your uniqueness.” Torah was no longer a binding covenant, it was there to make everyone feel good.

Here’s another gem from an interview he gave, reminiscing about an argument with his father after the Six-Day War:

“I was convinced that Israel had to give back all the land for the sake of peace.”

Classic lib brain. The IDF had just pulled off the most miraculous victory in modern Jewish history, and Sacks’s first instinct was to hand it all back because his real rebbe was his fellow Brit, Neville Chamberlain. Meanwhile, his father, who apparently had a functional relationship with reality, disagreed. So Sacks writes:

“My father, bless him, was convinced that Israel’s neighbors would never make peace.”

Turns out dad was right. Turns out generational intelligence isn’t hereditary.

But he wasn’t done embarrassing himself. In another interview, Sacks lamented about Israel’s conduct when conducting raids on terrorists:

“There are things that happen on a daily basis which make me feel very uncomfortable as a Jew.”

Well thank you, Mr. Sacks, for bravely admitting that Jewish survival makes you squirm. Wearing a kippah in public? Too Jewish. Jewish soldiers defending themselves? Oy, the optics. The truth is that if Jonathan Sacks had lived in 1939, he’d have stayed behind in England to write apologetics explaining why the SS uniforms were “deeply misunderstood expressions of national identity.”

And this is the same man who, when asked point-blank whether he’d meet with a Taliban-sympathizing imam like Abu Hamza, replied, “Yes.” Because of course he would. Sacks wouldn’t be caught dead quoting Meir Kahane, but would gladly dialogue with jihadists if it meant proving to the British press that he could “speak across difference.” The man would have hosted Osama bin Laden for brunch had he thought it would win him another Templeton Prize.

He longed for a Judaism that would never offend.
Never disturb. Never raise its voice. He didn’t want Jews to be safe, he wanted us to be liked. His ideal Jewish future was one where we were all warmly welcomed into interfaith panels discussing why belief is optional, Zionism is cringe, and the real mitzvah is voting Labour.

And where did this mensch publish his theological brain droppings? The Guardian.
A leftist rag known for excusing antisemitism if it’s wrapped in sufficient progressive buzzwords. Sacks fit right in. In one piece, he reimagined the Torah’s commandment to “Love the stranger” as a moral obligation to welcome unlimited third-world immigration, even from groups openly hostile to Jews. Real rabbis, those who still believe Rashi is more authoritative than the Financial Times, know that the “ger” here refers to a convert. You know, someone who has joined the Jewish people. But Sacks preferred to pretend that every illegal migrant from Libya was part of Avraham’s tent.

Because G-d forbid he quote Rashi. That might offend the immigration editor at The Guardian. Far better to cut and paste Torah into some multiculturalist fever dream.

This was always his trick. Say something vaguely universal, wrap it in a parable, and watch as both the left and right project their own fantasies onto it. His entire career was built on saying nothing with just enough finesse that people imagined he was saying something deep. Leftists thought he was secretly one of them. Religious centrists thought he was preserving mesorah. In reality, Sacks stood for one thing: being liked by everyone and believed by no one.

Jonathan Sacks didn’t fear God. He feared the Evening Standard. He didn’t love Torah. He loved applause. And worst of all, he made it look Orthodox. He repackaged leftist morality as ancient wisdom, then slapped his inverted hechsher on it and sold it to Anglo Jewry like a snake oil salesman in rabbinic robes.

His legacy is a Judaism that’s afraid to be Jewish.
A religion reduced to moral metaphors.
A community taught to value the esteem of the nations more than kiddush Hashem.

And the only thing more offensive than what he said in life is the fact that people are still quoting him now that he’s dead.

Stop quoting him. Stop venerating him. Stop confusing PR with piety.
And maybe, just maybe, start learning some actual Torah.