Yet for all his intellectual prowess, and for all the worldly accolades that came his way — the peerage, the awards, the status — what made Jonathan Sacks truly great was that he was a mensch. He was not some pallid scholar more concerned with ideas than people. His Judaism was firmly rooted in people, in Torah and chesed.
He was, above all, kind. Yes, he made mistakes as chief rabbi. Of course he did; he was human. But in the days since his death, so many stories have been told of his individual acts of kindness and his care and concern for others.
He was the very opposite of the public giant who allows his status to go to his head. He seemed genuinely to believe that life is about loving and giving. In his private life, he loved. In his public life, he gave — both of his mind and his status.
And now, devastatingly, he is gone, cruelly early. It is a tragic irony that, just as his voice has been so compelling and vital in recent years, he is needed now more than ever.
But as well as bemoaning his absence, we should also reflect on how lucky we have been to have had Jonathan Sacks in our lives. May his memory be a blessing.
