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To Heal a Fractured World: The Ethics of Responsibility
One of the most respected religious thinkers of our time makes an impassioned plea for the return of religion to its true purpose—as a partnership with God in the work of ethical and moral living.What are our duties to others, to society, and to humanity? How do we live a meaningful life in an age of global uncertainty and instability? In To Heal a Fractured World, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks offers answers to these questions by looking at the ethics of responsibility. In his signature plainspoken, accessible style, Rabbi Sacks shares with us traditional interpretations of the Bible, Jewish law, and theology, as well as the works of philosophers and ethicists from other cultures, to examine what constitutes morality and moral behavior. “We are here to make a difference,” he writes, “a day at a time, an act at a time, for as long as it takes to make the world a place of justice and compassion.” He argues that in today’s religious and political climate, it is more important than ever to return to the essential understanding that “it is by our deeds that we express our faith and make it real in the lives of others and the world.”To Heal a Fractured World—inspirational and instructive, timely and timeless—will resonate with people of all faiths.
406 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 11, 2005
232 people are currently reading
1479 people want to read
About the author
Jonathan Sacks
224 books442 followersRabbi Lord Jonathan Henry Sacks was the Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth. His Hebrew name was Yaakov Zvi.
Serving as the chief rabbi in the United Kingdom from 1991 to 2013, Sacks gained fame both in the secular world and in Jewish circles. He was a sought-after voice on issues of war and peace, religious fundamentalism, ethics, and the relationship between science and religion, among other topics. Sacks wrote more than 20 books.
Rabbi Sacks died November 2020 after a short bout with cancer. He was 72.
Serving as the chief rabbi in the United Kingdom from 1991 to 2013, Sacks gained fame both in the secular world and in Jewish circles. He was a sought-after voice on issues of war and peace, religious fundamentalism, ethics, and the relationship between science and religion, among other topics. Sacks wrote more than 20 books.
Rabbi Sacks died November 2020 after a short bout with cancer. He was 72.
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November 30, 2018
This book felt like it came out of nowhere like a revelation. I first encountered the name Rabbi Sacks in a blog post on By Common Consent or Times and Seasons, I forget which, with a quote that caught me off guard with its profundity:
*“DO YOU believe,” the disciple asked the rabbi, “that God created everything for a purpose?”*
*“I do,” replied the rabbi.*
*“Well,” asked the disciple, “why did God create atheists?”*
*The rabbi paused before giving an answer, and when he spoke his voice was soft and intense. “Sometimes we who believe, believe too much. We see the cruelty, the suffering, the injustice in the world and we say: ‘This is the will of God.’ We accept what we should not accept. That is when God sends us atheists to remind us that what passes for religion is not always religion. Sometimes what we accept in the name of God is what we should be fighting against in the name of God.”*
I think Rabbi Sacks was paraphrasing something else, but I looked up his Goodreads profile and added a few books of his to read later. *To Heal a Fractured World* happened to be the first I had time to read.
I have had the profound joy of discovering the depth of the Jewish faith from another earlier author, Abraham Heschel. I have read his *The Prophets* and *God in Search of Man*. As a Latter-Day Saint, I grew up with a respect for the Jewish faith as fellow believers, but I feel like there was always a tainted assumption that they were the inheritors of the tradition of the Pharisees: snobbish in their religion, stuck in limits imposed by a religion of ritual, limiting the number of steps you can walk on the Sabbath. But the Book of Mormon seems to promise that, not to worry, one day they will recognize Christ as the Savior. In other words: I had a serious problem. I had painted a caricature of the Jewish faith, that I feel is, to some extent, still very widespread. Rabbi Sacks points this out in a chapter of his book:
*One of the cruellest misrepresentations of Judaism is the claim that it is not a religion of love – despite the fact that the two great commands of love, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul and all your might’ (Deut. 6:5) and ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself’ (Lev. 19:18), both come from the Mosaic books. Judaism is a faith suffused with love, but infinitely transcending man’s love of God is God’s love of humankind.*
After reading Rabbi Sacks, I increasingly find that Judaism already contains most of everything I value in my Christian faith, and more, it contains many things for which I have holy envy, to use Krister Stendahl's term. I will try to write about only a few of those gems here, and leave the rest for you to find yourself.
## A Faith of Protest
Rabbi Sacks begins his book with a challenge to Nietzsche's assertion that religion is "the opium of the masses." Religion is meant to be an appeasement to help the poor and unfortunate deal with their suffering and accept the status quo. To the contrary, says Rabbi Sacks, faith is a protest, a protest to God about why there is suffering in the world:
*Judaism is not a religion that reconciles us to the world. It was born as an act of defiance against the great empires of the ancient world, Mesopotamia and Egypt, which did what he accused all religions of doing – sanctifying hierarchy, justifying the rule of the strong over the weak, glorifying kings and pharaohs and keeping the masses in place. In the Bible God removes the chains of slavery from his people; he does not impose them. The religion of Israel emerged out of the most paradigm-shifting experience of the ancient world: that the supreme power intervened in history to liberate the powerless. It was in and as the voice of social protest that the biblical imagination took shape.*
Certainly, there is a type of faith that does teach us to be accepting of suffering, and I also think, to some extent, this is necessary. Not to accept suffering, but to be able to go on despite it: how we respond. And that leads to the next point: an ethics of responsibility.
## Responsibility
The central idea of Rabbi Sack's book is that we become responsible. In this sense, I felt a connection between some of the ideas of the 20th century existentialist philosophers and Rabbi Sacks' ethics of responsibility. From *The Existentialist Cafe*:
*Existentialists concern themselves with individual, concrete human existence.*
*They consider human existence different from the kind of being of other things have. Other entities are what they are, but as a human I am whatever I choose to make of myself at every moment. I am free*
*and therefore I'm responsible for everything I do, a dizzying fact with causes*
*an anxiety inseparable from human existence itself.*
But Rabbi Sack's responsibility has a different flavor. It removes a lot of the angsty-ness of it all. I can't quite describe how, because all the suffering in the world is still there. Perhaps the best word is hope? Faith is built on hope, and that will always be there.
I liked how Sacks develops an ever-increasing circle of responsibility from the first 11 chapters of Genesis:
*The first eleven chapters of Genesis are not a mere series of historical narratives. They are a highly structured exploration of responsibility. They begin with two stories about individuals, Adam and Eve, then Cain, followed by two stories about societies, the generation of the Flood and the builders of Babel. The first and last – the tree of knowledge, the tower – are about the failure to honour boundaries: between permitted and forbidden, heaven and earth. The inner two are about violence, individual then collective. They constitute a developmental psychology of the moral sense. First we discover personal responsibility, our freedom to choose. Then we acquire moral responsibility, the knowledge that choice has limits; not everything we can do, may we do. Later we learn collective responsibility: we are part of a family, a community and society and we have a share in its innocence or guilt. Later still, we realize that society itself is subject to a higher law: there are moral limits to power.*
## Social justice
While Rabbi Sacks doesn't make any political points here, he does at one point mention the idea of social justice as an essential element of the collective religious life, as built into the Hebrew word for righteousness:
*The word tzedakah is untranslatable because it joins together two concepts that in other languages are opposites, namely charity and justice. Suppose, for example, that I give someone £100. Either he is entitled to it, or he is not. If he is, then my act is a form of justice. If he is not, it is an act of charity. In English (as with the Latin terms caritas and iustitia) a gesture of charity cannot be an act of justice, nor can an act of justice be described as charity. Tzedakah means both.*
*It arises from Judaism’s theological insistence on the difference between possession and ownership. Ultimately, all things are owned by God, creator of the world. What we possess, we do not own – we merely hold it in trust for God. The clearest statement of this is the provision in Leviticus: ‘The land must not be sold permanently because the land is Mine; you are merely strangers and temporary residents in relation to Me.’ If there were absolute ownership, there would be a difference between justice (what we are bound to give others) and charity (what we give others out of generosity). The former would be a legally enforceable duty, the latter, at best, the prompting of benevolence or sympathy. In Judaism, because we are not owners of our property but guardians on God’s behalf, we are bound by the conditions of trusteeship, one of which is that we share part of what we have with others in need. What would be regarded as charity in other legal systems is, in Judaism, a strict requirement of the law and can, if necessary, be enforced by the courts.*
*The nearest English equivalent to tzedakah is the phrase that came into existence alongside the idea of a welfare state, namely social justice (Friedrich Hayek regarded the concept of social justice as incoherent and self-contradictory). Behind both is the idea that no one should be without the basic requirements of existence, and that those who have more than they need must share some of that surplus with those who have less. This is fundamental to the kind of society the Israelites were charged with creating, namely one in which everyone has a basic right to a dignified life and equal worth as citizens in the covenantal community under the sovereignty of God.*
I had to check myself for a minute, because I have read Hayek, and I have a knee-jerk reaction when anyone mentions social justice. It has been used to justify a lot of bad social programs. But after reading Sack's book, I feel like I am not doing nearly as much as I should be in terms of caring for my neighbor. Sacks doesn't argue for social programs, but for a taking on a mantle of responsibility for my neighbor. Latter-Day Saints too are committed to such a vision, covenanting to keep the law of consecration. But we seem to have absolved ourselves of any feeling of bringing this to pass in our lifetime. In Joseph Smith's day, the natural man was just too strong, and only in a society composed of the strongest of saints could such a society succeed. Sacks says this is wrong. You begin doing good in your own circle now, and that good will spread and grow. You are your brother's keeper.
## My sons have defeated me
Another element of Judaism that I feel we Christians could use is the element of dispute-- even with God. I first found out this in Peter Enn's book *The Bible Tells Me So* where he also expresses some holy envy for Judaism:
*Even more so, the history of Judaism is a lively tradition of wrestling openly with scripture and coming to diverse conclusions about how to handle it. More so than the Christian tradition, Judaism embraces debate as a vital part of its faith. Disagreements are preserved (not silenced or marginalized) in official core texts of Judaism, like the Talmud and medieval commentaries on the Bible. Opposing opinions sit side by side as monuments to this wrestling match with scripture—and with God.*
Sack's takes as his prime example the story of Abraham, who confronted God's justice in destroying Sodom and Gomorrah:
*To be a father – implies the Bible – is to teach a child to question, challenge, confront, dispute. God invites Abraham to do these things because he wants him to be the parent of a nation that will do these things. He does not want the people of the covenant to be one that accepts the evils and injustices of the world as the will of God.*
I love this, because it seems so foreign to our own faith. Sure, we are encouraged to seek out revelation-- Elder Eyring just talked to us in Seattle that we should seek out confirming revelation for everything the prophets and apostles teach. But the underlying assumption is, as a fellow Twitter-er pointed out, is that confirming revelation will always adhere to what the prophets have said: if you get a different answer, it's probably Satan trying to get you, so pray harder. I don't think this is so. I disagree with Elder Oaks who said "There is no loyal opposition." I think there is, and there should be. I like what Jonathan Haidt says about the role of what he called "institutional disconfirmation":
*Each professor is—like all human beings—a flawed thinker with a strong preference for believing that his or her own ideas are right. Each scholar suffers from the confirmation bias—the tendency to search vigorously for evidence that confirms what one already believes.36 One of the most brilliant features of universities is that, when they are working properly, they are communities of scholars who cancel out one another’s confirmation biases. Even if professors often cannot see the flaws in their own arguments, other professors and students do them the favor of finding such flaws. The community of scholars then judges which ideas survive the debate. We can call this process institutionalized disconfirmation. The institution (the academy as a whole, or a discipline, such as political science) guarantees that every statement offered as a research finding—and certainly every peer-reviewed article—has survived a process of challenge and vetting. That is no guarantee that it is true, but it is a reason to think that the statement is likely to be more reliable than alternative statements made by partisan think tanks, corporate marketers, or your opinionated uncle. It is only because of institutionalized disconfirmation that universities and groups of scholars can claim some authority to be arbiters of factual questions, such as whether certain vaccines caused the rise in autism (they didn’t)37 or whether social programs designed to help poor children close achievement gaps with wealthier kids actually work (some do, some don’t).*
I believe this can just as strongly happen in a church. I think we as church members have a responsibility to try to make the Church a better place. I loved this well-selected quote from the works of G. K. Chesterton in a sacrament meeting talk shared on LDS Brothers about loving the church means seeking to make it better:
*“Let us suppose we are confronted with a desperate thing — say [the church]. If we think what is really best for [the church] we shall find the thread of thought leads to the throne or the mystic and the arbitrary. It is not enough for a man to disapprove of [the church]: in that case he will merely cut his throat or [leave]. Nor, certainly, is it enough for a man to approve of [the church]: for then it will remain [as it is], which would be awful. The only way out of it seems to be for somebody to love [the church]: to love it with a transcendental tie and without any earthly reason. If there arose a man who loved [the church], then [the church] would rise into ivory towers and golden pinnacles; [the church] would attire herself as a woman does when she is loved. For decoration is not given to hide horrible things: but to decorate things already adorable. A mother does not give her child a blue bow because he is so ugly without it. A lover does not give a girl a necklace to hide her neck. If men loved [the church] as mothers love children, arbitrarily, because it is theirs, [the church] in a year or two might be fairer than Florence. Some readers will say that this is a mere fantasy. I answer that this is the actual history of mankind. This, as a fact, is how cities did grow great. Go back to the darkest roots of civilization and you will find them knotted round some sacred stone or encircling some sacred well. People first paid honour to a spot and afterwards gained glory for it. Men did not love Rome because she was great. She was great because they had loved her.”*
So, to tie this back to Rabbi Sack's book. He uses a story that I find absolutely profound: the rabbis were able to overrule the very voice of God: and God approved:
*Most famous of the Talmudic episodes is the one in which, in the course of an argument with his fellow sages, R. Eliezer ben Hyrcanus invokes the authority of heaven, which endorses his view (‘A heavenly voice was heard, saying, Why do you dispute the view of R. Eliezer, seeing that the law is always in accord with his opinion?’). At this, R. Joshua, one of the disputants, ‘stood up and protested, It is not in heaven [Deut. 30:12]’, meaning: we pay no attention to a divine voice, because at Mount Sinai, God himself had declared, After the majority must one incline [Ex. 23:2]. The sages outvoted R. Eliezer despite the fact that he had been supported by heaven itself. The denouement comes when Rabbi Nathan meets the prophet Elijah – seen by the sages as an intermediary between heaven and earth – and asks him what God said at the moment when the heavenly voice was outvoted: ‘ELIJAH: He laughed [with joy] and said, “My sons have defeated Me, My sons have defeated Me.”’*
I think there are things that need to change in the Church. I think we worry too much about how things are supposed to be, that we are willing to sacrifice the needs of individuals to doctrinal purity. This is dangerous. We need both conservative and progressive elements in the Church, so let us value both.
## Noahidic covenant and law
The final thing I wanted to comment on for which I have holy envy is the perceived relationship Jews have with those outside of their faith, the Gentiles. Jews believe in two covenants: the one made with Abraham that applies to the Jewish people making them a holy nation, and the covenant made with Noah that applies to all men. In essence, Jews leave room in heaven for those outside of their faith. I find this deeply profound, and it leaves room to respect those outside of their faith without having any need to feel some kind of spiritual condescension.
Theoretically, Latter-Day Saints have something like this too: we have a form of universalism that all will be admitted to a kingdom of glory. But this doesn't stop us from feeling like we are somehow better. We constantly assert that we are "the one truth Church." I had a friend who left the Church because he couldn't reconcile himself to this belief. I remember on my mission, our ward was invited to participate in an ecumenical communion, where different congregations would share the sacrament. Our ward turned down the effort, because everyone knows that only those who have true priesthood authority can bless the sacrament. I felt like despite that, we should have found a way to have interacted and responded positively to that invitation. I think we are lacking something here that Judaism has and that we should seek to recover.
I am deeply impressed by the words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, and I think this book will truly help us heal a fractured world. May we take the invitation to be responsible, to be our brothers keeper.
*“DO YOU believe,” the disciple asked the rabbi, “that God created everything for a purpose?”*
*“I do,” replied the rabbi.*
*“Well,” asked the disciple, “why did God create atheists?”*
*The rabbi paused before giving an answer, and when he spoke his voice was soft and intense. “Sometimes we who believe, believe too much. We see the cruelty, the suffering, the injustice in the world and we say: ‘This is the will of God.’ We accept what we should not accept. That is when God sends us atheists to remind us that what passes for religion is not always religion. Sometimes what we accept in the name of God is what we should be fighting against in the name of God.”*
I think Rabbi Sacks was paraphrasing something else, but I looked up his Goodreads profile and added a few books of his to read later. *To Heal a Fractured World* happened to be the first I had time to read.
I have had the profound joy of discovering the depth of the Jewish faith from another earlier author, Abraham Heschel. I have read his *The Prophets* and *God in Search of Man*. As a Latter-Day Saint, I grew up with a respect for the Jewish faith as fellow believers, but I feel like there was always a tainted assumption that they were the inheritors of the tradition of the Pharisees: snobbish in their religion, stuck in limits imposed by a religion of ritual, limiting the number of steps you can walk on the Sabbath. But the Book of Mormon seems to promise that, not to worry, one day they will recognize Christ as the Savior. In other words: I had a serious problem. I had painted a caricature of the Jewish faith, that I feel is, to some extent, still very widespread. Rabbi Sacks points this out in a chapter of his book:
*One of the cruellest misrepresentations of Judaism is the claim that it is not a religion of love – despite the fact that the two great commands of love, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul and all your might’ (Deut. 6:5) and ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself’ (Lev. 19:18), both come from the Mosaic books. Judaism is a faith suffused with love, but infinitely transcending man’s love of God is God’s love of humankind.*
After reading Rabbi Sacks, I increasingly find that Judaism already contains most of everything I value in my Christian faith, and more, it contains many things for which I have holy envy, to use Krister Stendahl's term. I will try to write about only a few of those gems here, and leave the rest for you to find yourself.
## A Faith of Protest
Rabbi Sacks begins his book with a challenge to Nietzsche's assertion that religion is "the opium of the masses." Religion is meant to be an appeasement to help the poor and unfortunate deal with their suffering and accept the status quo. To the contrary, says Rabbi Sacks, faith is a protest, a protest to God about why there is suffering in the world:
*Judaism is not a religion that reconciles us to the world. It was born as an act of defiance against the great empires of the ancient world, Mesopotamia and Egypt, which did what he accused all religions of doing – sanctifying hierarchy, justifying the rule of the strong over the weak, glorifying kings and pharaohs and keeping the masses in place. In the Bible God removes the chains of slavery from his people; he does not impose them. The religion of Israel emerged out of the most paradigm-shifting experience of the ancient world: that the supreme power intervened in history to liberate the powerless. It was in and as the voice of social protest that the biblical imagination took shape.*
Certainly, there is a type of faith that does teach us to be accepting of suffering, and I also think, to some extent, this is necessary. Not to accept suffering, but to be able to go on despite it: how we respond. And that leads to the next point: an ethics of responsibility.
## Responsibility
The central idea of Rabbi Sack's book is that we become responsible. In this sense, I felt a connection between some of the ideas of the 20th century existentialist philosophers and Rabbi Sacks' ethics of responsibility. From *The Existentialist Cafe*:
*Existentialists concern themselves with individual, concrete human existence.*
*They consider human existence different from the kind of being of other things have. Other entities are what they are, but as a human I am whatever I choose to make of myself at every moment. I am free*
*and therefore I'm responsible for everything I do, a dizzying fact with causes*
*an anxiety inseparable from human existence itself.*
But Rabbi Sack's responsibility has a different flavor. It removes a lot of the angsty-ness of it all. I can't quite describe how, because all the suffering in the world is still there. Perhaps the best word is hope? Faith is built on hope, and that will always be there.
I liked how Sacks develops an ever-increasing circle of responsibility from the first 11 chapters of Genesis:
*The first eleven chapters of Genesis are not a mere series of historical narratives. They are a highly structured exploration of responsibility. They begin with two stories about individuals, Adam and Eve, then Cain, followed by two stories about societies, the generation of the Flood and the builders of Babel. The first and last – the tree of knowledge, the tower – are about the failure to honour boundaries: between permitted and forbidden, heaven and earth. The inner two are about violence, individual then collective. They constitute a developmental psychology of the moral sense. First we discover personal responsibility, our freedom to choose. Then we acquire moral responsibility, the knowledge that choice has limits; not everything we can do, may we do. Later we learn collective responsibility: we are part of a family, a community and society and we have a share in its innocence or guilt. Later still, we realize that society itself is subject to a higher law: there are moral limits to power.*
## Social justice
While Rabbi Sacks doesn't make any political points here, he does at one point mention the idea of social justice as an essential element of the collective religious life, as built into the Hebrew word for righteousness:
*The word tzedakah is untranslatable because it joins together two concepts that in other languages are opposites, namely charity and justice. Suppose, for example, that I give someone £100. Either he is entitled to it, or he is not. If he is, then my act is a form of justice. If he is not, it is an act of charity. In English (as with the Latin terms caritas and iustitia) a gesture of charity cannot be an act of justice, nor can an act of justice be described as charity. Tzedakah means both.*
*It arises from Judaism’s theological insistence on the difference between possession and ownership. Ultimately, all things are owned by God, creator of the world. What we possess, we do not own – we merely hold it in trust for God. The clearest statement of this is the provision in Leviticus: ‘The land must not be sold permanently because the land is Mine; you are merely strangers and temporary residents in relation to Me.’ If there were absolute ownership, there would be a difference between justice (what we are bound to give others) and charity (what we give others out of generosity). The former would be a legally enforceable duty, the latter, at best, the prompting of benevolence or sympathy. In Judaism, because we are not owners of our property but guardians on God’s behalf, we are bound by the conditions of trusteeship, one of which is that we share part of what we have with others in need. What would be regarded as charity in other legal systems is, in Judaism, a strict requirement of the law and can, if necessary, be enforced by the courts.*
*The nearest English equivalent to tzedakah is the phrase that came into existence alongside the idea of a welfare state, namely social justice (Friedrich Hayek regarded the concept of social justice as incoherent and self-contradictory). Behind both is the idea that no one should be without the basic requirements of existence, and that those who have more than they need must share some of that surplus with those who have less. This is fundamental to the kind of society the Israelites were charged with creating, namely one in which everyone has a basic right to a dignified life and equal worth as citizens in the covenantal community under the sovereignty of God.*
I had to check myself for a minute, because I have read Hayek, and I have a knee-jerk reaction when anyone mentions social justice. It has been used to justify a lot of bad social programs. But after reading Sack's book, I feel like I am not doing nearly as much as I should be in terms of caring for my neighbor. Sacks doesn't argue for social programs, but for a taking on a mantle of responsibility for my neighbor. Latter-Day Saints too are committed to such a vision, covenanting to keep the law of consecration. But we seem to have absolved ourselves of any feeling of bringing this to pass in our lifetime. In Joseph Smith's day, the natural man was just too strong, and only in a society composed of the strongest of saints could such a society succeed. Sacks says this is wrong. You begin doing good in your own circle now, and that good will spread and grow. You are your brother's keeper.
## My sons have defeated me
Another element of Judaism that I feel we Christians could use is the element of dispute-- even with God. I first found out this in Peter Enn's book *The Bible Tells Me So* where he also expresses some holy envy for Judaism:
*Even more so, the history of Judaism is a lively tradition of wrestling openly with scripture and coming to diverse conclusions about how to handle it. More so than the Christian tradition, Judaism embraces debate as a vital part of its faith. Disagreements are preserved (not silenced or marginalized) in official core texts of Judaism, like the Talmud and medieval commentaries on the Bible. Opposing opinions sit side by side as monuments to this wrestling match with scripture—and with God.*
Sack's takes as his prime example the story of Abraham, who confronted God's justice in destroying Sodom and Gomorrah:
*To be a father – implies the Bible – is to teach a child to question, challenge, confront, dispute. God invites Abraham to do these things because he wants him to be the parent of a nation that will do these things. He does not want the people of the covenant to be one that accepts the evils and injustices of the world as the will of God.*
I love this, because it seems so foreign to our own faith. Sure, we are encouraged to seek out revelation-- Elder Eyring just talked to us in Seattle that we should seek out confirming revelation for everything the prophets and apostles teach. But the underlying assumption is, as a fellow Twitter-er pointed out, is that confirming revelation will always adhere to what the prophets have said: if you get a different answer, it's probably Satan trying to get you, so pray harder. I don't think this is so. I disagree with Elder Oaks who said "There is no loyal opposition." I think there is, and there should be. I like what Jonathan Haidt says about the role of what he called "institutional disconfirmation":
*Each professor is—like all human beings—a flawed thinker with a strong preference for believing that his or her own ideas are right. Each scholar suffers from the confirmation bias—the tendency to search vigorously for evidence that confirms what one already believes.36 One of the most brilliant features of universities is that, when they are working properly, they are communities of scholars who cancel out one another’s confirmation biases. Even if professors often cannot see the flaws in their own arguments, other professors and students do them the favor of finding such flaws. The community of scholars then judges which ideas survive the debate. We can call this process institutionalized disconfirmation. The institution (the academy as a whole, or a discipline, such as political science) guarantees that every statement offered as a research finding—and certainly every peer-reviewed article—has survived a process of challenge and vetting. That is no guarantee that it is true, but it is a reason to think that the statement is likely to be more reliable than alternative statements made by partisan think tanks, corporate marketers, or your opinionated uncle. It is only because of institutionalized disconfirmation that universities and groups of scholars can claim some authority to be arbiters of factual questions, such as whether certain vaccines caused the rise in autism (they didn’t)37 or whether social programs designed to help poor children close achievement gaps with wealthier kids actually work (some do, some don’t).*
I believe this can just as strongly happen in a church. I think we as church members have a responsibility to try to make the Church a better place. I loved this well-selected quote from the works of G. K. Chesterton in a sacrament meeting talk shared on LDS Brothers about loving the church means seeking to make it better:
*“Let us suppose we are confronted with a desperate thing — say [the church]. If we think what is really best for [the church] we shall find the thread of thought leads to the throne or the mystic and the arbitrary. It is not enough for a man to disapprove of [the church]: in that case he will merely cut his throat or [leave]. Nor, certainly, is it enough for a man to approve of [the church]: for then it will remain [as it is], which would be awful. The only way out of it seems to be for somebody to love [the church]: to love it with a transcendental tie and without any earthly reason. If there arose a man who loved [the church], then [the church] would rise into ivory towers and golden pinnacles; [the church] would attire herself as a woman does when she is loved. For decoration is not given to hide horrible things: but to decorate things already adorable. A mother does not give her child a blue bow because he is so ugly without it. A lover does not give a girl a necklace to hide her neck. If men loved [the church] as mothers love children, arbitrarily, because it is theirs, [the church] in a year or two might be fairer than Florence. Some readers will say that this is a mere fantasy. I answer that this is the actual history of mankind. This, as a fact, is how cities did grow great. Go back to the darkest roots of civilization and you will find them knotted round some sacred stone or encircling some sacred well. People first paid honour to a spot and afterwards gained glory for it. Men did not love Rome because she was great. She was great because they had loved her.”*
So, to tie this back to Rabbi Sack's book. He uses a story that I find absolutely profound: the rabbis were able to overrule the very voice of God: and God approved:
*Most famous of the Talmudic episodes is the one in which, in the course of an argument with his fellow sages, R. Eliezer ben Hyrcanus invokes the authority of heaven, which endorses his view (‘A heavenly voice was heard, saying, Why do you dispute the view of R. Eliezer, seeing that the law is always in accord with his opinion?’). At this, R. Joshua, one of the disputants, ‘stood up and protested, It is not in heaven [Deut. 30:12]’, meaning: we pay no attention to a divine voice, because at Mount Sinai, God himself had declared, After the majority must one incline [Ex. 23:2]. The sages outvoted R. Eliezer despite the fact that he had been supported by heaven itself. The denouement comes when Rabbi Nathan meets the prophet Elijah – seen by the sages as an intermediary between heaven and earth – and asks him what God said at the moment when the heavenly voice was outvoted: ‘ELIJAH: He laughed [with joy] and said, “My sons have defeated Me, My sons have defeated Me.”’*
I think there are things that need to change in the Church. I think we worry too much about how things are supposed to be, that we are willing to sacrifice the needs of individuals to doctrinal purity. This is dangerous. We need both conservative and progressive elements in the Church, so let us value both.
## Noahidic covenant and law
The final thing I wanted to comment on for which I have holy envy is the perceived relationship Jews have with those outside of their faith, the Gentiles. Jews believe in two covenants: the one made with Abraham that applies to the Jewish people making them a holy nation, and the covenant made with Noah that applies to all men. In essence, Jews leave room in heaven for those outside of their faith. I find this deeply profound, and it leaves room to respect those outside of their faith without having any need to feel some kind of spiritual condescension.
Theoretically, Latter-Day Saints have something like this too: we have a form of universalism that all will be admitted to a kingdom of glory. But this doesn't stop us from feeling like we are somehow better. We constantly assert that we are "the one truth Church." I had a friend who left the Church because he couldn't reconcile himself to this belief. I remember on my mission, our ward was invited to participate in an ecumenical communion, where different congregations would share the sacrament. Our ward turned down the effort, because everyone knows that only those who have true priesthood authority can bless the sacrament. I felt like despite that, we should have found a way to have interacted and responded positively to that invitation. I think we are lacking something here that Judaism has and that we should seek to recover.
I am deeply impressed by the words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, and I think this book will truly help us heal a fractured world. May we take the invitation to be responsible, to be our brothers keeper.
April 10, 2019
Rabbi Sacks begins his book by examining Marx’s famous quote “religion is the opium of the people.” He allows that religion may be used in this way in some situations; however, that is not true of the religion the Hebrew Bible presents. “Biblical faith is not a conservative force,” Rabbi Sacks writes. “It does not conceal the scars of the human condition under the robes of sanctity and inevitability” (26). Instead, the Torah is the story of slaves escaping from bondage and emphasizes taking care of the poor. The Torah contains laws that mandate gleaning rights, routine debt forgiveness and freeing of slaves, and respectful treatment of foreigners. The main idea of Rabbi Sacks’ book is that Biblical faith teaches we have a responsibility to better society and take care of one another.
One discussion that I found compelling in the book was the relationship between religion and ethics. Can a person be ethical without being religious? Can someone be religious without being ethical? Do religion and ethics clash? Rabbi Sacks says the answer to each question is obviously yes.
“Yet taken as a whole and over time, when religion and ethics are separated, they both suffer. Without the constraint of ethics, religion can become a force for evil as well as good…. Contrariwise, without religion, in the long run ethics tends to lose touch with reverence, respect responsibility and restraint. That is not to say that individuals will not act nobly or courageously: they will. Nor is it to say that the effect will be immediate: it will not. Cultures can live for generations on the accumulated moral capital of earlier religious habits.”
I wish Rabbi Sacks would delve into more detail at this point. Why is it that ethics without religion tend to lose “reverence, respect, responsibility and restraint” over time? Sacks quotes a sort of parable from Tolstoy about how non-religious people might be comfortable understanding and performing ethical actions, but might struggle to lead and inspire such actions. I can sort of understand this — non-religious people often lack the vocabulary about morality that religious people have — but it did not leave me wholly satisfied.
The question about religion and ethics clashing seemed the most interesting to me. Sacks says that in the case of the Bible (unlike the traditions of many ancient cultures such as ancient Greece), God is both powerful and good, so religion and ethics go hand-in-hand in the Bible. However, again I was disappointed that Sacks doesn’t examine more nuanced situations. Sacks mentions the Abraham / Isaac episode, but doesn’t examine it thoroughly. Elsewhere in the book, Sacks looks deeply into Abraham’s prayer for Sodom and emphasizes how the episode makes it seem that God wants Abraham to challenge Him. This story is central to large parts of the book, and illustrates how God wants people to be responsible for their societies and react to their merciful instincts. But I was disappointed that Sacks didn't analyze the story in the context of this question, looking into how the story shows how human ethics and God's will might differ.
Another aspect of the book I enjoyed was the opportunity to get an inside look at Jewish tradition. Rabbi Sacks is constantly quoting the Babylonian Talmud and other Rabbis while including a host of Jewish folklore anecdotes. One aspect of this tradition that I had not encountered before was different interpretations of Biblical passages. Some of these I found some insightful (such as the analysis of Abraham's prayer for Sodom), but others seemed counterintuitive, foreign, and confusing to me (such as the discussion of why Moses didn't look at the burning bush).
One discussion that I found compelling in the book was the relationship between religion and ethics. Can a person be ethical without being religious? Can someone be religious without being ethical? Do religion and ethics clash? Rabbi Sacks says the answer to each question is obviously yes.
“Yet taken as a whole and over time, when religion and ethics are separated, they both suffer. Without the constraint of ethics, religion can become a force for evil as well as good…. Contrariwise, without religion, in the long run ethics tends to lose touch with reverence, respect responsibility and restraint. That is not to say that individuals will not act nobly or courageously: they will. Nor is it to say that the effect will be immediate: it will not. Cultures can live for generations on the accumulated moral capital of earlier religious habits.”
I wish Rabbi Sacks would delve into more detail at this point. Why is it that ethics without religion tend to lose “reverence, respect, responsibility and restraint” over time? Sacks quotes a sort of parable from Tolstoy about how non-religious people might be comfortable understanding and performing ethical actions, but might struggle to lead and inspire such actions. I can sort of understand this — non-religious people often lack the vocabulary about morality that religious people have — but it did not leave me wholly satisfied.
The question about religion and ethics clashing seemed the most interesting to me. Sacks says that in the case of the Bible (unlike the traditions of many ancient cultures such as ancient Greece), God is both powerful and good, so religion and ethics go hand-in-hand in the Bible. However, again I was disappointed that Sacks doesn’t examine more nuanced situations. Sacks mentions the Abraham / Isaac episode, but doesn’t examine it thoroughly. Elsewhere in the book, Sacks looks deeply into Abraham’s prayer for Sodom and emphasizes how the episode makes it seem that God wants Abraham to challenge Him. This story is central to large parts of the book, and illustrates how God wants people to be responsible for their societies and react to their merciful instincts. But I was disappointed that Sacks didn't analyze the story in the context of this question, looking into how the story shows how human ethics and God's will might differ.
Another aspect of the book I enjoyed was the opportunity to get an inside look at Jewish tradition. Rabbi Sacks is constantly quoting the Babylonian Talmud and other Rabbis while including a host of Jewish folklore anecdotes. One aspect of this tradition that I had not encountered before was different interpretations of Biblical passages. Some of these I found some insightful (such as the analysis of Abraham's prayer for Sodom), but others seemed counterintuitive, foreign, and confusing to me (such as the discussion of why Moses didn't look at the burning bush).
June 27, 2010
To Heal a Fractured World, by Chief Rabbi Sir Jonathan Sacks, is an amazing book. This is probably the best English-language religious book I've read in a very long time - he issues a clarion call to fight the rising tide of baseless hatred via a response of baseless love, talks about meaning as something which comes from acts of service to others. I was particularly moved both by his analysis (extending Maimonides) of the difference between a Hakham (sage) and a Hasid, and by his description of his meetings with various people who had been so influential on him.
For myself, the big takeaway was that I should make some effort to curb my cynicism - I have an exceptionally deep reservoir of cynical thoughts about authority figures, and I should try to drain that some.
I can't recommend this book highly enough.
For myself, the big takeaway was that I should make some effort to curb my cynicism - I have an exceptionally deep reservoir of cynical thoughts about authority figures, and I should try to drain that some.
I can't recommend this book highly enough.
December 8, 2010
This is a tremendously engaging, practical and inspirational book on religious ethics. Sacks is clear and unapologetic that he is writing from a Jewish perspective, and that is one of the things that I found most rewarding about it. For non-Jewish readers, of which I am one, the perspective is fascinating. Familiar stories told from another point of view take on amazingly fresh and important meanings. I read each chapter twice because each was so rich in content and implication. The world really could be a different place if we allowed ourselves to be committed to an ethic of responsibility. If this is on your to read list, move it right to the top.
February 13, 2022
Original post on my blog: https://certaintyprinciple.co.uk/inde...
There are textbooks, and then there are text-people. Textbooks tell us how to live; text-people show us how to live. Rabbi Sacks was a rare soul that did both.
Midway through reading this book, I began to ask myself, “What does my life call for today?” And that seems to be the right way to live. Life is suffering, heartbreak, disappointment and regret, and then one day you die; but the Abrahamic faiths have taught us that we can choose how we respond to the tragedy of life. God presents us with a “blessing and a curse” [1]: we can choose to respond with bitterness or with kindness; with self-preservation or with generosity; with despair or with hope.
To Marx, religion was the “opiate of the masses”, a means of self-medication against the futility of the human condition; in Judaism, by contrast, religion is an act of protest against the suffering of the world. It is the voice of God in the Torah that repeatedly calls on the Israelites to not forget that they too were once slaves in Egypt. It is the voice of Isaiah who cries out for his people to defend the oppressed, to take up the cause of the fatherless and to plead the cause of the widow [2]. It is the still, small voice that once called out to Elijah and now calls on us to fix what is there to be fixed. It is the call to turn our wounds into a source of compassion, to be people who realise that at all times – even in the midst of the greatest inhumanity – we have the ability to choose how we respond. And that is what sets us apart from the rest of nature. The French put it best: we are responsable.
It is easy to say and even easier to avoid doing. I confess myself overwhelmed at the thought of it. How much there is to be done, and how small are my capabilities, and how little time I have on this planet. But to do something is better than to do nothing, no matter how small. And maybe it starts today, with the way I treat my bus driver, or the supermarket cashier, or the person who serves me my morning coffee. I don’t know. But it’s got me thinking about it. And that’s a good place to start.
“Where what we want to do meets what needs to be done, that is where God wants us to be.” ~ Rabbi Jonathan Sacks [3]
[1] - Deuteronomy 11:26 NIV
[2] - Isaiah 1:17 NIV
[3] - Jonathan Sacks in "To Heal a Fractured World" (2005)
There are textbooks, and then there are text-people. Textbooks tell us how to live; text-people show us how to live. Rabbi Sacks was a rare soul that did both.
Midway through reading this book, I began to ask myself, “What does my life call for today?” And that seems to be the right way to live. Life is suffering, heartbreak, disappointment and regret, and then one day you die; but the Abrahamic faiths have taught us that we can choose how we respond to the tragedy of life. God presents us with a “blessing and a curse” [1]: we can choose to respond with bitterness or with kindness; with self-preservation or with generosity; with despair or with hope.
To Marx, religion was the “opiate of the masses”, a means of self-medication against the futility of the human condition; in Judaism, by contrast, religion is an act of protest against the suffering of the world. It is the voice of God in the Torah that repeatedly calls on the Israelites to not forget that they too were once slaves in Egypt. It is the voice of Isaiah who cries out for his people to defend the oppressed, to take up the cause of the fatherless and to plead the cause of the widow [2]. It is the still, small voice that once called out to Elijah and now calls on us to fix what is there to be fixed. It is the call to turn our wounds into a source of compassion, to be people who realise that at all times – even in the midst of the greatest inhumanity – we have the ability to choose how we respond. And that is what sets us apart from the rest of nature. The French put it best: we are responsable.
It is easy to say and even easier to avoid doing. I confess myself overwhelmed at the thought of it. How much there is to be done, and how small are my capabilities, and how little time I have on this planet. But to do something is better than to do nothing, no matter how small. And maybe it starts today, with the way I treat my bus driver, or the supermarket cashier, or the person who serves me my morning coffee. I don’t know. But it’s got me thinking about it. And that’s a good place to start.
“Where what we want to do meets what needs to be done, that is where God wants us to be.” ~ Rabbi Jonathan Sacks [3]
[1] - Deuteronomy 11:26 NIV
[2] - Isaiah 1:17 NIV
[3] - Jonathan Sacks in "To Heal a Fractured World" (2005)
February 5, 2019
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks has won five National Jewish Book Awards.
"To Heal a Fractured World" is not one of those five. But for my money, it's the best and most important book he has written.
This book is a powerful antidote to a disturbing trend in which Orthodox Judaism has become more and more concerned about the details of halachic observance and less about Jewish values and ethics.
It's a classic case of losing sight of the forest through the trees.
Along comes Rabbi Sacks to remind us that Judaism's principal objective is to create an ideal, peaceful, compassionate society and that we each have our role to play as God's partners.
Sacks does not dismiss the importance of halachah or rituals. But he clearly recognizes that, at this point in history, Judaism needs a stronger emphasis on, as he puts it, "the ethics of responsibility."
As he notes, the Hebrew word for "responsibility" is achrayut, which comes from "acher," which means "other."
This book is a clarion call to focus our attention and efforts on the needs of others. And, by others, the Torah means both people and animals.
"To Heal a Fractured World" is not one of those five. But for my money, it's the best and most important book he has written.
This book is a powerful antidote to a disturbing trend in which Orthodox Judaism has become more and more concerned about the details of halachic observance and less about Jewish values and ethics.
It's a classic case of losing sight of the forest through the trees.
Along comes Rabbi Sacks to remind us that Judaism's principal objective is to create an ideal, peaceful, compassionate society and that we each have our role to play as God's partners.
Sacks does not dismiss the importance of halachah or rituals. But he clearly recognizes that, at this point in history, Judaism needs a stronger emphasis on, as he puts it, "the ethics of responsibility."
As he notes, the Hebrew word for "responsibility" is achrayut, which comes from "acher," which means "other."
This book is a clarion call to focus our attention and efforts on the needs of others. And, by others, the Torah means both people and animals.
May 29, 2012
Brilliant book, by a brilliant author. Deep concepts and thoughts on every page. I am reading this with a group, including a wonderful teacher of Jewish Studies and we all take notes and learn so much from it.
April 15, 2015
The best book I've read in a very long time.
September 17, 2021
A lot of good things here.
July 13, 2022
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks was a voice of enormous moral authority; a powerful, moving, articulate voice who noted our world's significant challenges, but spoke with a sense of hope in all that was possible if only we as individuals reached for it. I am still mourning the loss of his reason and sanity nearly two years after his passing.
To Heal a Fractured World is an example of his belief in the capacity of humanity for good and is a poignant response to the divisiveness that we face in the world today.
"The gossamer filaments of connection between us and others, that once held together families, communities and societies, have become attenuated. We have become lonely selves in search of purely personal fulfilment. But that surely must be wrong", he says at the beginning of the book. This thought lays out the purpose of the book and he then proceeds to turn his considerable intellectual and philosophical powers towards what the solution might look like.
"We are here to make a difference, to mend the fractures of the world, a day at a time, an act at a time, for as long as it takes to make it a place of justice and compassion where the lonely are not alone, the poor not without help; where the cry of the vulnerable is heeded and those who are wronged are heard," he says.
His is a clear, small voice that calls for kindness, generosity of spirit, justice, goodness and personal responsibility in a world gone off the rails and To Heal a Fractured World is an exceptionally compelling and articulate response. It is also a clarion call for hope.
"If you spend your life searching for evidence that, as Kant put it, 'Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing was ever made', you will certainly find it. But if you spend it searching for fragments of light that lie, as Jewish mystics believed, scattered throughout the universe, you will find them also - and this is a no less just view of the human condition."
Within all of his call for justice and charity, there is also a realism about humanity. We are not all saints or prophets - but we don't have to be. "We do not redeem the world all together in one go. We do it one day at a time, one person at a time, one act at a time. A single life, said the sages, is like a universe. Save a life and you save a world. Change a life and you begin to change the world."
His message is one that reaffirms the core Jewish tenant that we are not obligated to complete the task of repairing the world alone, but neither are we free from the responsibility to do something. "Every good act, every healing gesture, lights a candle of hope in a dark world."
To Heal a Fractured World arises from Sacks' thought on the foundational messages of Judaism, but his message and language are far more universal in nature. We each have within us the power to make a positive difference in the world - it is not beyond our reach.
Now more than ever, this book and this message is a needed reminder and salve to the self-inflicted wounds of our currently divided society. This is an extraordinary book; one that everyone should read.
To Heal a Fractured World is an example of his belief in the capacity of humanity for good and is a poignant response to the divisiveness that we face in the world today.
"The gossamer filaments of connection between us and others, that once held together families, communities and societies, have become attenuated. We have become lonely selves in search of purely personal fulfilment. But that surely must be wrong", he says at the beginning of the book. This thought lays out the purpose of the book and he then proceeds to turn his considerable intellectual and philosophical powers towards what the solution might look like.
"We are here to make a difference, to mend the fractures of the world, a day at a time, an act at a time, for as long as it takes to make it a place of justice and compassion where the lonely are not alone, the poor not without help; where the cry of the vulnerable is heeded and those who are wronged are heard," he says.
His is a clear, small voice that calls for kindness, generosity of spirit, justice, goodness and personal responsibility in a world gone off the rails and To Heal a Fractured World is an exceptionally compelling and articulate response. It is also a clarion call for hope.
"If you spend your life searching for evidence that, as Kant put it, 'Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing was ever made', you will certainly find it. But if you spend it searching for fragments of light that lie, as Jewish mystics believed, scattered throughout the universe, you will find them also - and this is a no less just view of the human condition."
Within all of his call for justice and charity, there is also a realism about humanity. We are not all saints or prophets - but we don't have to be. "We do not redeem the world all together in one go. We do it one day at a time, one person at a time, one act at a time. A single life, said the sages, is like a universe. Save a life and you save a world. Change a life and you begin to change the world."
His message is one that reaffirms the core Jewish tenant that we are not obligated to complete the task of repairing the world alone, but neither are we free from the responsibility to do something. "Every good act, every healing gesture, lights a candle of hope in a dark world."
To Heal a Fractured World arises from Sacks' thought on the foundational messages of Judaism, but his message and language are far more universal in nature. We each have within us the power to make a positive difference in the world - it is not beyond our reach.
Now more than ever, this book and this message is a needed reminder and salve to the self-inflicted wounds of our currently divided society. This is an extraordinary book; one that everyone should read.
October 25, 2025
What a beautiful book! It's a passionate call for responsibility with a view to healing a fractured world. Sacks offers a sharp analysis of our current era, where people pride themselves on their rights and pay virtually no attention to personal responsibility. Sacks shows where things go wrong and offers tools for how, by starting with ourselves, we can heal a broken world as ambassadors of God. He advocates taking responsibility for our fellow human beings, each in their own environment. My favorite quotes from this book:
"Seek peace, not through military victory, but through acts of kindness."
"Peace can be agreed upon around the conference table, but unless it grows in ordinary hearts and minds, it does not last. It may not even begin."
"A nation is strong when it cares for the weak. It becomes rich when it cares for the poor. It becomes invulnerable when it cares for the vulnerable. That is what makes great nations."
"Courage is born the moment we decide, instead of complaining, to personally protest against evil."
"God does not want us to understand the suffering of the innocent, but to fight for a world where the innocent no longer suffer."
"The moral life, the life that changes lives, begins with the ears, with the act of listening."
"The foundation of responsibility is listening—to people who are sick, lonely, homeless, neglected, and excluded. To people whose voices are not heard, or to the challenges that have not been met, the problem that has not been solved, the things that need to be done but remain undone."
"Life is God's question: Where are you?"
“We cannot see God face to face on this earth. It follows that we can only see God in the face of another. The fact that humans are made in the image of God means that life belongs to Him, not us. Can I recognize God’s image in someone who is not in my image, whose language, their way of believing in faith, or ideals are different from mine? If I cannot, then I have made God in my image instead of allowing Him to remake me in this.”
“We become moral not only by what we know, but by what we do. The fundamental task of ethics is not merely to know what is good, but to make it part of our lives.”
“The highest reward for a person’s toil is not what he receives, but what he becomes through it. We are changed not by what we receive, but by what we do.”
“Tzedakah (charity) is not merely helping those in need. It is enabling suffering people, wherever possible, to regain their capacity for independent action. Responsibility is at the core of human dignity.”
“If I had to summarize what faith asks of us, I would say: a healing presence. (Personal addition: … and a fighter for justice.)”
Sidenote: When reading this book, it's good to keep in mind that the author is Orthodox Jewish. This means he believes the Messiah is yet to come. He also uses many examples from the Jewish mystical world. So, if you're reading this book as a Christian (which I highly recommend), it's good to keep this in mind.
"Seek peace, not through military victory, but through acts of kindness."
"Peace can be agreed upon around the conference table, but unless it grows in ordinary hearts and minds, it does not last. It may not even begin."
"A nation is strong when it cares for the weak. It becomes rich when it cares for the poor. It becomes invulnerable when it cares for the vulnerable. That is what makes great nations."
"Courage is born the moment we decide, instead of complaining, to personally protest against evil."
"God does not want us to understand the suffering of the innocent, but to fight for a world where the innocent no longer suffer."
"The moral life, the life that changes lives, begins with the ears, with the act of listening."
"The foundation of responsibility is listening—to people who are sick, lonely, homeless, neglected, and excluded. To people whose voices are not heard, or to the challenges that have not been met, the problem that has not been solved, the things that need to be done but remain undone."
"Life is God's question: Where are you?"
“We cannot see God face to face on this earth. It follows that we can only see God in the face of another. The fact that humans are made in the image of God means that life belongs to Him, not us. Can I recognize God’s image in someone who is not in my image, whose language, their way of believing in faith, or ideals are different from mine? If I cannot, then I have made God in my image instead of allowing Him to remake me in this.”
“We become moral not only by what we know, but by what we do. The fundamental task of ethics is not merely to know what is good, but to make it part of our lives.”
“The highest reward for a person’s toil is not what he receives, but what he becomes through it. We are changed not by what we receive, but by what we do.”
“Tzedakah (charity) is not merely helping those in need. It is enabling suffering people, wherever possible, to regain their capacity for independent action. Responsibility is at the core of human dignity.”
“If I had to summarize what faith asks of us, I would say: a healing presence. (Personal addition: … and a fighter for justice.)”
Sidenote: When reading this book, it's good to keep in mind that the author is Orthodox Jewish. This means he believes the Messiah is yet to come. He also uses many examples from the Jewish mystical world. So, if you're reading this book as a Christian (which I highly recommend), it's good to keep this in mind.
Currently reading
January 30, 2022The late, great, Rabbi is one for the ages. His work is a deep well for Jews, Christians, or others to drink from. Unsurprisingly, given our shared heritage, there are many times when it sounds like he is describing the Orthodox Christian faith. Which is sadly something he didn't know a lot about, based on how he describes what he thinks Christianity is. At many times, he sounds like the church fathers and mothers:
"The Bible tells the long and often tense story of the childhood of humanity under the parenthood of God. But God does not want humankind to remain in childhood. He wants them to become adults, exercising responsibility in freedom.
In Jewish law, the obligations of children to parents begin only when they cease to be children (at the age of 12 for girls, 13 for boys). Before then they have no obligations at all. Paradoxically, it is only when we become parents that we understand our parents — which is why the first recorded command in the Bible is that of parenthood (‘Be fruitful and multiply’). A weak parent seeks to control his children. A true parent seeks to relinquish control, which is why God never intervenes to protect us from ourselves. That means that we will stumble and fall, but only by so doing does a child learn to walk.
God does not ask his children not to make mistakes. To the contrary, he accepts that, in the Bible’s own words, “There is none on earth so righteous as to do only good and never to sin’ (Eccl. 7:20). God asks us only to acknowledge our mistakes and learn from them. Forgiveness is written into the structure of the universe.
The connection between the two halves of the chapter lies in an utterly new understanding of what it is to be a parent. Abraham, about to become father to the first child of the covenant, is being taught by God what it means to raise a child. To be a father— implies the Bible — is to teach a child to question, challenge, confront, dispute.
God invites Abraham to do these things because he wants him to be the parent of a nation that will do these things. He does not want the people of the covenant to be one that accepts the evils and injustices of the world as the will of God.
He wants the people of the covenant to be human, neither more nor less. He wants them to hear the cry of the oppressed, the pain of the afflicted and the plaint of the lonely. He wants them not to accept the world that is, because it is not the world that ought to be. He is giving Abraham a tutorial in what it is to teach a child to grow by challenging the existing scheme of things. Only through such challenges does a child learn to accept responsibility; only by accepting responsibility does a child grow to become an adult; and only an adult can understand the parenthood of God..."
"The Bible tells the long and often tense story of the childhood of humanity under the parenthood of God. But God does not want humankind to remain in childhood. He wants them to become adults, exercising responsibility in freedom.
In Jewish law, the obligations of children to parents begin only when they cease to be children (at the age of 12 for girls, 13 for boys). Before then they have no obligations at all. Paradoxically, it is only when we become parents that we understand our parents — which is why the first recorded command in the Bible is that of parenthood (‘Be fruitful and multiply’). A weak parent seeks to control his children. A true parent seeks to relinquish control, which is why God never intervenes to protect us from ourselves. That means that we will stumble and fall, but only by so doing does a child learn to walk.
God does not ask his children not to make mistakes. To the contrary, he accepts that, in the Bible’s own words, “There is none on earth so righteous as to do only good and never to sin’ (Eccl. 7:20). God asks us only to acknowledge our mistakes and learn from them. Forgiveness is written into the structure of the universe.
The connection between the two halves of the chapter lies in an utterly new understanding of what it is to be a parent. Abraham, about to become father to the first child of the covenant, is being taught by God what it means to raise a child. To be a father— implies the Bible — is to teach a child to question, challenge, confront, dispute.
God invites Abraham to do these things because he wants him to be the parent of a nation that will do these things. He does not want the people of the covenant to be one that accepts the evils and injustices of the world as the will of God.
He wants the people of the covenant to be human, neither more nor less. He wants them to hear the cry of the oppressed, the pain of the afflicted and the plaint of the lonely. He wants them not to accept the world that is, because it is not the world that ought to be. He is giving Abraham a tutorial in what it is to teach a child to grow by challenging the existing scheme of things. Only through such challenges does a child learn to accept responsibility; only by accepting responsibility does a child grow to become an adult; and only an adult can understand the parenthood of God..."
May 13, 2020
The Importance of shoelaces
What to do when the world is becoming a more and more hostile place; a place where we seem to drown in big problems like increasing inequality, human and environmental ecosystems that seem to crumble and die with great speed? We should not turn inwardly, the rabbi urges us in this book. We should not seek solace in: a romantic past that never was, be the victim of new forms of tribalism, or ever stricter adherence to the halacha. We should look beyond ourselves.
Why?
The God of Torah is a transcendent God and therefore a God of freedom. Whereas the world of myth, old or new (biological determinism), is a world of determinism and manipulation of circumstances, the world of Torah is one of freedom. There is always a chasm between God and men and therefore He can never be used to legitimize our (power)structures. In the same vain we can never legitimize our actions by saying that it’s just so because it’s in the nature of things. That makes us responsible beings. The Hebrew word for responsibility is achrajoet, in it hides the word: acher, The Other.
Why then just three stars for this sympathetic book. Well knowledge is in details and there are no details in this book. The books about the five books of Moses are so good because they give deep insights of small pieces of text. The analyses is so specific you can make specific connections to specific situations in our own time. This book is the other way around: the premise is not nearly as clearly analysed as it should have been. And therefore the book is rather vague. We have read this book with our church book group. More people started than finished it. That hardly ever happens.
The book is however full of beautiful stories. I liked this one: A learned rabbi told his students he would be away for some time. Where was he going, his students asked. To rabbi so and so, he answered. But, muttered his students confused, he is just a country bumpkin. What was there to learn from such a man? I want to see him tie his shoelaces, the great rabbi answered.
So what did I learn from this book? That a human being is Ein Mensch auf Jiddish. She is not to be nudged, found in a datafarm, biologically determined or reduced to ones and zeros. She is in her shoelaces and the one mensch who observed that.
What to do when the world is becoming a more and more hostile place; a place where we seem to drown in big problems like increasing inequality, human and environmental ecosystems that seem to crumble and die with great speed? We should not turn inwardly, the rabbi urges us in this book. We should not seek solace in: a romantic past that never was, be the victim of new forms of tribalism, or ever stricter adherence to the halacha. We should look beyond ourselves.
Why?
The God of Torah is a transcendent God and therefore a God of freedom. Whereas the world of myth, old or new (biological determinism), is a world of determinism and manipulation of circumstances, the world of Torah is one of freedom. There is always a chasm between God and men and therefore He can never be used to legitimize our (power)structures. In the same vain we can never legitimize our actions by saying that it’s just so because it’s in the nature of things. That makes us responsible beings. The Hebrew word for responsibility is achrajoet, in it hides the word: acher, The Other.
Why then just three stars for this sympathetic book. Well knowledge is in details and there are no details in this book. The books about the five books of Moses are so good because they give deep insights of small pieces of text. The analyses is so specific you can make specific connections to specific situations in our own time. This book is the other way around: the premise is not nearly as clearly analysed as it should have been. And therefore the book is rather vague. We have read this book with our church book group. More people started than finished it. That hardly ever happens.
The book is however full of beautiful stories. I liked this one: A learned rabbi told his students he would be away for some time. Where was he going, his students asked. To rabbi so and so, he answered. But, muttered his students confused, he is just a country bumpkin. What was there to learn from such a man? I want to see him tie his shoelaces, the great rabbi answered.
So what did I learn from this book? That a human being is Ein Mensch auf Jiddish. She is not to be nudged, found in a datafarm, biologically determined or reduced to ones and zeros. She is in her shoelaces and the one mensch who observed that.
December 18, 2017
It's a very well written book, and an excellent source text for Jewish ethical writings. But Rabbi Saks for some reason decided to set up his version of Jewish ethical teachings as the opposite of the classical Greeks, and in order to do that he lays out a completely wrong interpretation of Greek tragedy and philosophy. It's a shame, because he didn't have to draw such a contrast. I also take fundamental issue with Rabbi Saks' core principle that Jewish ethics requires people to take responsibility for their own lives, in the sense of opposing "victimhood culture" and claiming that the ultimate freedom is the ability to choose how we respond to circumstances. That's exactly backwards. Judaism (as Rabbi Saks) actually argues, is concerned with taking care of the bodily needs and human dignity of individuals, not their souls. And that has to mean that the freedom to respond to circumstances is not enough. At the same time, Rabbi Saks has some wonderful ideas, like the "Chaos Theory of Virtue" that insists that a single good act is enough to redeem a life. But ultimately, I can't get past my objection to the core principle of "responsibility."
July 29, 2020
An approachable and philosophical book about restoring religion to its true purpose—as a partnership with God in the work of ethical and moral living. Rabbi Sacks writes about Judaism's ethics to argue against hatred in the name of religion and for a thoughtful responsibility to our fellow humans. I will read this book again and again.
"Judaism is a complex and subtle faith, yet it has rarely lost touch with its simple ethical imperatives. We are here to make a difference, to mend the fractures of the world, a day at a time, an act at a time, for as long as it takes to make it a place of justice and compassion where the lonely are not alone, the poor not without help; where the cry of the vulnerable is heeded and those who are wronged are heard. ‘Someone else’s physical needs are my spiritual obligation’, a Jewish mystic taught. The truths of religion are exalted, but its duties are close at hand. We know God less by contemplation than by emulation. The choice is not between ‘faith’ and ‘deeds’, for it is by our deeds that we express our faith and make it real in the life of others and the world."
"Judaism is a complex and subtle faith, yet it has rarely lost touch with its simple ethical imperatives. We are here to make a difference, to mend the fractures of the world, a day at a time, an act at a time, for as long as it takes to make it a place of justice and compassion where the lonely are not alone, the poor not without help; where the cry of the vulnerable is heeded and those who are wronged are heard. ‘Someone else’s physical needs are my spiritual obligation’, a Jewish mystic taught. The truths of religion are exalted, but its duties are close at hand. We know God less by contemplation than by emulation. The choice is not between ‘faith’ and ‘deeds’, for it is by our deeds that we express our faith and make it real in the life of others and the world."
June 9, 2021
Heialing as a Way of Life
In this exraordinary book written by a more than extraordinary man, we find the means, the tools, the philosophical wisdom and the source of courage to create a platform for ourselves to bring to fruition not only a better life for ourselves but to achieve and perpetuate a significant purpose for humanity encapsulated by the remarkable title: To Heal a Fractured World.
Lord Sacks encourages and invites us to to embrace personal responsibility by viewing everyone as children of the same G-d and therefore responsible for all others whose very humanity makes them our spiritual brothers and sisters. To be responsible, opines the author, is to give from the heart thus making this world a place of love and healing.
He provides several examples of men, women and children who became exemplars of the way of looking at and living life. All are inspirations, just as is thr author himself.
You will never forget that you have read this book. Perhaps you may never be the same
In this exraordinary book written by a more than extraordinary man, we find the means, the tools, the philosophical wisdom and the source of courage to create a platform for ourselves to bring to fruition not only a better life for ourselves but to achieve and perpetuate a significant purpose for humanity encapsulated by the remarkable title: To Heal a Fractured World.
Lord Sacks encourages and invites us to to embrace personal responsibility by viewing everyone as children of the same G-d and therefore responsible for all others whose very humanity makes them our spiritual brothers and sisters. To be responsible, opines the author, is to give from the heart thus making this world a place of love and healing.
He provides several examples of men, women and children who became exemplars of the way of looking at and living life. All are inspirations, just as is thr author himself.
You will never forget that you have read this book. Perhaps you may never be the same
October 1, 2017
I finished this in September 2017. I don't recall when I started reading. It's not a long or even a dense book but, the subject matter is meaning-packed. This was was my "pick up and read a bit and ponder what I read " source of inspiration and motivation for a while. 2 years at least. I have numerous highlights and underlines. I am bound to return periodically to these pages again and again.
Rabbi Sacks has a very engaging readable style. I consider him one of my 'rabbis' and not just because I I read this book as part of my on-going habit of finding interesting topics to study. I have easily seen how the ideas he shares apply to my life and contribute to my personal ethos. It was fitting that I concluded the book, the last section of which is called " The Responsible Life" on Yom Kippur.
Rabbi Sacks has a very engaging readable style. I consider him one of my 'rabbis' and not just because I I read this book as part of my on-going habit of finding interesting topics to study. I have easily seen how the ideas he shares apply to my life and contribute to my personal ethos. It was fitting that I concluded the book, the last section of which is called " The Responsible Life" on Yom Kippur.
January 19, 2022
A refreshing, powerful, and profoundly hopeful book on ethics and responsibility. Rabbi Sacks's ideas on covenental society and the ethic of responsibility have the potential to be a remedy to Western society's divisiveness, apathy, and cinicism.
"The message of the Bible for the politics of the contemporary West is that it is not enough to have a state. You also need a society - meaning, that common belonging that comes from a sense that we are neighbours as well as strangers; that we have duties to one another, to the heritage of the past and to the hopes of generations not yet born; that society is not a hotel where we receive services in exchange for money, but a home to which we feel attached and who history is (literally or adoptively) our own. That requires covenental, not just contractual, politics.""
"The message of the Bible for the politics of the contemporary West is that it is not enough to have a state. You also need a society - meaning, that common belonging that comes from a sense that we are neighbours as well as strangers; that we have duties to one another, to the heritage of the past and to the hopes of generations not yet born; that society is not a hotel where we receive services in exchange for money, but a home to which we feel attached and who history is (literally or adoptively) our own. That requires covenental, not just contractual, politics.""
June 16, 2017
Amazing reading on one of the most important topics and the basis of religion and meaning, Responsibility. The way the topic is explained from different perspectives apparently unified in one universal vision through spirituality and meaning is unique. Incredibly inspiring and complete with great academic level of sources and structure. Nonetheless the poetic and characteristic language helps the reader engage in the beliefs and emotions that the author pretend to share with the world. It's the perfect path to approach the orthodox perspective of man's role in the world emphasizing in the particular aspects of freedom and action, also eradicating the misconceptions that unfortunately emerged in our society on such perspective.
April 14, 2022
A really outstanding book, full of potent lessons on the responsibility we have not only to ourselves but to the wider world. Rabbi Sacks was an amazing teacher, and his lessons have always made me want to be a better person. It's remarkable how he creates a real sense of hope--not by denying the problems of our world, but by acknowledging them with clear eyes and then finding a way to summon courage and compassion through a magical mixture of abstract theology and simple storytelling. Also, I learned a lot about Jewish theology from this book and am eager to explore more deeply. I will admit that not every chapter in this book resonated with me (hence my hesitance to give the full five stars), but the many that did were truly enlightening and encouraging.
May 30, 2024
This book moved me in a way few books, or any media really, ever have. Sacks’s vision of what it is to live a responsible, ethical life, specifically within a Jewish framework, is profoundly pragmatic and in touch with the state of the world and human nature. He offers incredible, almost rigid, moral clarity, while remaining flexible - but never so much as to compromise the values the Torah and our sages urge - of human error and limits. Although Sacks’ textual references can be dense, they are extremely cohesive and always appropriate. Anyone who is interested in a deeper understanding of Jewish values, what we have to gain in modern times from our sacred texts, or just how to live as a Jew or non-Jew would benefit tremendously from reading (and emulating) Sacks.
August 24, 2018
This book seemed directed to members of his own religion (so there was a disjointed feeling on my end-- because I am not quite the target audience). However it was still a fascinating piece of work. He creates webs of connection between philosophy, art, history, and belief.
If I could recommend any part of the work I would flip to the back of the book and read his interpretation of the book of Job and the short chapters that follow it. His treatment of suffering is compassionate yet enabling and empowering.
If I could recommend any part of the work I would flip to the back of the book and read his interpretation of the book of Job and the short chapters that follow it. His treatment of suffering is compassionate yet enabling and empowering.
February 8, 2019
4.5 stars! I enjoyed this book. Rabbi Sacks is one of my personal heroes. It was nice to finally read him and see how he puts together ideas and at what level he writes. I often enjoy reading the Rabbis because they integrate so much into their thinking that one fails to get bored. I know, being bored is the greatest sin in our age, but this is not a writer who would need to be offered absolution.
September 19, 2021
This book was a challenging read at times - in particular the sections that discussed the texts of (and commentaries on) the Hebrew Bible. But that is likely my ignorance/unfamiliarity with certain texts, terms and names - - and I did not mind at all investing the time trying to understand. The final section, focused on what each of us can do as individuals I found to be expansive, helpful and often moving.
April 11, 2021
I started this book for school, expecting to read the two required chapters and then be done with it, but I read almost all of it in the end. It’s not the sort of book I’d pick up ordinarily, but it drew me in with its sincere enthusiasm and positive outlook. It was both thought-provoking and lovely to read. I’m glad I found it.
May 13, 2024
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks provides cogent, well thought out discussions of ethical considerations relevant to today's world. He draws on a wealth of knowledge of the world's greatest thinkers, religious doctrines, and historical realities.
Rabbi Sacks never fails to stimulate me and compel me to deeper thought.
5-star!
Rabbi Sacks never fails to stimulate me and compel me to deeper thought.
5-star!
November 28, 2017
The best way forward into a world as we wish it to be. The sub title says it all: The Ethics of Responsibility. Although Rabbi Sacks writes out of the Jewish tradition his writing apply to all time and space.
This book rewards careful reading and rereading. Amen.
This book rewards careful reading and rereading. Amen.
July 11, 2021
Thought provoking and uplifting book. Sacks illustrates his points with stories from the Torah and inspiring life stories of people he has met. He makes a compelling argument that we are all here for a purpose and that even the smallest kindness can change someone's life.
September 12, 2021
I recommend this book all the time. Rabbi Sacks changed my perspective on several things and really set me on my journey to a more hopeful eschatology and better understanding of my responsibility to others.
November 13, 2021
What a wise man. Although it is Jewish wisdom, it is suitable, powerful and instructive for everyone who want to live a responsible live in this broken world. Including insightful exegesis/interpretation of the Tenach (Old Testament).
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