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We Remember| It is appropriate that, as the Second Millennium of Christianity draws to a close, the church should become more fully conscious of the sinfulness of her children, recalling all those times in history when they departed from the spirit of Christ and his Gospel and, instead of offering to the world the witness of a life inspired by the values of faith, indulged in ways of thinking and acting which were truly forms of counter-witness and scandal. |
It is within this context that the Statement introduces the Shoah–"an unspeakable tragedy, which can never be forgotten [and] a major fact of the history of this century . . . which still concerns us today"–and the duty to remember, which it roots in "the common future of Jews and Christians, for there is no future without memory." The concluding paragraph asks all Christians to join together "in meditating on the catastrophe which befell the Jewish people, on the moral imperative to ensure that never again will selfishness and hatred grow to the point of sowing such suffering and death. Most especially," it ends, ". . . we ask our Jewish friends . . . to hear us with open hearts." Part I thus introduces the Shoah within the context of the church’s need to examine its own sinfulness.
Part II: "What we must remember." Part II makes two main points: "While bearing their unique witness to the Holy One of Israel and to the Torah, the Jewish people have suffered much at different times and in many places. But," it goes on to say, "the Shoah was certainly the worst suffering of all . . . All this was done to them," the text continues, "for the sole reason that they were Jews."
The second point roots the Christian duty to remember in both the ". . . very magnitude of the crimes [and in] the fact that the Shoah took place in Europe, that is, in countries of long-standing Christian civilization, [which] raises the question of the relation between the Nazi persecution and the attitudes down the centuries of Christians towards the Jews." And so, the logic of the document moves the Statement to its very core: an overview of the history of the relations between Jews and Christians, and a discussion of the relationship of Nazi anti-Semitism to the Shoah.
Part III, "Relations between Jews and Christians," begins by noting that the history of those relations is a "tormented one." Quoting the Pope, the text states: "In effect, the balance of these relationships over two thousand years has been quite negative." The text then recounts, in broad strokes, the history of these relations. It begins that history with this sentence:
| "At the dawn of Christianity, after the crucifixion of Jesus, there arose disputes between the early Church and the Jewish leaders and people who, in their devotion to the Law, on occasion violently opposed the preachers of the Gospel and the first Christians . . . Later, when the Emperors converted to Christianity, they continued to guarantee Jewish privileges. But Christian mobs who attacked pagan temples sometimes did the same to synagogues, not without being influenced by certain interpretations of the New Testament regarding the Jewish people as a whole. |
Then follows an excerpt from a speech given by the Pope to the "Symposium on the roots of anti-Judaism," in October 1997:
| In the Christian world–I do not say on the part of the Church as such–erroneous and unjust interpretations of the New Testament regarding the Jewish people and their alleged culpability have circulated for too long, engendering feelings of hostility towards this people. |
Then, in a reference to Nostra Aetate, 4 we read: "Such interpretations of the New Testament have been totally and definitively rejected by the Second Vatican Council." The Statement continues:
| Despite the Christian preaching of love for all, . . . sentiments of anti- Judaism in some Christian quarters, and the gap that existed between the Church and the Jewish people, led to a generalized discrimination, which ended at times in expulsions or attempts at forced conversions. In a large part of the "Christian" world, . . . those who were not Christian did not always enjoy a fully guaranteed juridical status. Despite that fact, Jews throughout Christendom held on to their religious traditions and communal customs. They were therefore looked upon with a certain suspicion and mistrust. In times of crisis such as famine, war, pestilence or social tensions, the Jewish minority was sometimes taken as a scapegoat and became the victim of violence, looting, even massacres. |
I have quoted extensively from Part III for two reasons: first, because these excerpts are at the heart of the Statement’s argument; and second, because they offer in nuce much of what has drawn the harshest criticism, evoked the most outrage, and caused the greatest embarrassment on the part of so many. For me, reading them has a kind of "surreal" quality to it: the conclusions and analyses seem inverted; emphases, misplaced; responsibility, deflected; assessments, badly understated. Some examples: (1) what can it possibly mean to say that "the balance of these relations . . . has been quite negative?" Doesn’t "balance" suggest some sort of "equality" between two disputing groups, power shifting from one back to the other? But Jews and Christian were not equally powerful groups! What can there possibly be to "weigh" on the Jewish side of the equation? (2) And to characterize that long and tragic history as "quite negative" is sorely disproportionate to the historical record as we know it. (3) And why would anyone, least of all, the church, begin a discussion of this tragic history by noting that Christians were the first to suffer persecution, and that they did so at the hands of the Jewish people? (4) And to suggest that, after the conversion of the Emperors to Christianity, "Christian mobs" attacked pagan temples and "sometimes did the same to synagogues" [ital., mine] is, at best, misleading, as if synagogue attacks were, historically, some kind of spontaneous "afterthought?" Could anything be further from the truth? (5) What are we to make of the phrase "sentiments of anti-Judaism in some quarters led to a generalized discrimination, which ended at times in expulsions or attempts at forced conversions . . . "? [Ital., mine] The phrase, "Sentiments . . . in some quarters," suggests behaviors that are on the "fringe"; but, of course, they were not. And why not simply say, ". . . which ended in widespread expulsions, pogroms, forced conversions, etc.?" The phrase "at times" is a very troubling addition, conveying equivocation, and/or diversion of responsibility. (6) Why put "Christian" world in quotation marks, as if it were an anomaly or aberration? It was the Christian world. How much closer to the truth does the sentence read without them! (7) And finally, let me highlight a phrase in the concluding sentence of the second paragraph: ". . . the Jewish minority was sometimes taken as a scapegoat and became the victim of violence, looting, even massacres" [ital., mine]. ("Sometimes?!") But what interests me most here is the use of the passive voice, found throughout the document, at least in its official English translation. Such usage both begs the question, "by whom?" and deflects altogether the question of responsibility.
Part III concludes its broad overview of the pertinent history of the relations between Jews and Christians and introduces the next major section, "Nazi anti-Semitism and the Shoah," by noting the condemnations of racism in 1931 and 1933 by the Church in Germany, and in 1937 by Pope Pius XI. Given the "official" church’s contested record during this period and into the next decade, what constructive purposes could these references serve?
Part IV, "Nazi anti-Semitism and the Shoah," is, perhaps not surprisingly, the longest of the Statement’s five sections. It would seem that the primary purpose of this section is to draw a clear and sharp distinction between anti-Semitism and anti-Judaism so as to dissociate totally Nazi ideology and the church’s centuries-old teaching of contempt for Judaism and the Jewish people. Anti-Semitism, the Statement notes, is ". . . based on theories contrary to the constant teaching of the Church on the unity of the human race and on the equal dignity of all races and peoples"; anti-Judaism, defined ". . . the long-standing sentiments of mistrust and hostility . . . of which, unfortunately, Christians also have been guilty." The distinction is essential to the argument the text makes in the paragraph that follows.
| . . . this extreme ideology . . . which became the basis of the measures taken, first to drive the Jews from their homes and then to exterminate them . . . was the work of a thoroughly modern neo-pagan regime. Its anti-Semitism had its roots outside of Christianity and, in pursuing its aims, it did not hesitate to oppose the Church and persecute her members also." |
And then the text raises a number of questions: "[Was not] . . . the Nazi persecution of the Jews. . . . made easier by the anti-Jewish prejudices embedded in some Christian minds and hearts? Did anti-Jewish sentiment among Christians make them less sensitive, or even indifferent, to the persecutions launched against the Jews by National socialism when it reached power?"
I quote again at some length because the manner in which the Statement responds to its own questions has become a point of great discussion and debate. In short, the text gives no straightforward answers to the questions it raises, but rather responds in two steps: (1) by setting the questions within a lengthy reflection on the factors and "multiple influences" that must be taken into account when dealing with the history of people’s attitudes and ways of thinking; and (2) by noting that ". . . many people were altogether unaware of the ‘final solution’ . . . others were afraid for themselves and those near to them; some took advantage of the situation; and still others were moved by envy. A response would need to be given case by case." The text goes on to ask: "Did Christians give every possible assistance to those being persecuted, and in particular to the persecuted Jews? Many did, but others did not." (Again, a strange inversion. Would it not have been closer to the truth to have said: "Most did not, but some few did?") Two lengthy paragraphs follow which highlight the heroism of and cost to those Catholics who gave "every possible assistance." Only after that, do we read the following:
| Nevertheless, . . . alongside such courageous men and women, the spiritual resistance and concrete action of other Christians was not that which might have been expected from Christ’s followers. We cannot know how many Christian in countries occupied or ruled by the Nazi powers or their allies were horrified at the disappearance of their Jewish neighbours and yet were not strong enough to raise their voices in protest. For Christians, this heavy burden of conscience of their brothers and sisters during the Second World War must be a call to penitence. We deeply regret the errors and failures of those sons and daughters of the Church. The Catholic Church therefore repudiates every persecution against a people or human group anywhere, at any time. She absolutely condemns all forms of genocide, as well as the racist ideologies which give rise to them. Looking back over this century, we are deeply saddened by the violence that has enveloped whole groups of peoples and nations. We recall in particular the massacre of the Armenians, the countless victims in Ukraine in the 1930s, the genocide of the Gypsies, which was also the result of racist ideas, and similar tragedies which have occurred in America, Africa and the Balkans. Nor do we forget the millions of victims of totalitarian ideology in the Soviet Union, in China, Cambodia and elsewhere. Nor can we forget the drama of the Middle East, the elements of which are well known. Even as we make these reflections, "many human beings are still their brothers’ victims." |
Part V, "Looking together to a common future," concludes the Statement with an appeal to ". . . our Catholic brothers and sisters to renew the awareness of the Hebrew roots of their faith." It articulates the Church’s desire ". . . to express her deep sorrow for the failures of her sons and daughters in every age," and it prays ". . . that our sorrow for the tragedy which the Jewish people has suffered in our century will lead to a new relationship with the Jewish people. We wish to turn awareness of past sins into a firm resolve to build a new future in which there will be no more anti-Judaism among Christians or anti-Christian sentiment among Jews, but rather a shared mutual respect, as befits those who adore the one Creator and Lord and have a common father in faith, Abraham."
We Remember: A Reflection of the "Shoah" concludes with this final paragraph.
| Finally, we invite all men and women of good will to reflect deeply on the significance of the Shoah. The victims from their graves, and the survivors through the vivid testimony of what they have suffered, have become a loud voice calling the attention of all of humanity. To remember this terrible experience is to become fully conscious of the salutary warning it entails: the spoiled seeds of anti-Judaism and anti-Semitism must never again be allowed to take root in any human heart. |
Summary
The most significant criticisms of the Statement fall into four general categories. (1) The Statement fails to acknowledge both the breadth and the depth of anti-Judaism within official church teaching, preaching, and practice. (2) The Statement fails to admit the widespread anti-Jewish behavior of Christians that haunts so much of the history of relations between Jews and Christians. When it does acknowledge such behavior, it suggests, oftentimes by turn of a subtle phrase, that it was not the norm among Christians, but rather, the failure of some. (3) Given these two failures, it ought to come as no surprise that the Statement fails to connect historically habitual anti-Jewish teaching and preaching with deeply entrenched anti-Jewish behavior. Indeed, in those few places where the Statement does admit some linkage between the two, it qualifies the linkage by suggesting that "certain interpretations of the New Testament regarding the Jewish people as a whole" were "not without . . . influence." And (4), the Statement goes to some length to maintain clear and sharp distinctions between Christian anti-Judaism, on the one hand, and Nazi anti-Semitism, on the other. In fact, it is not an overstatement to say that it tries mightily to divorce the two altogether. While it is simplistic, and indeed, wrong, to make a causal connection between the two, as if Nazi anti- Semitism were a direct result of Christian anti-Judaism, nevertheless, the Statement’s apparent unwillingness to acknowledge some measure of continuity between the two drew especially sharp criticism.
Positive aspects and potential achievements
I have pointed out, where pertinent, some of the areas that have drawn significant criticism. There are, to be sure, others. Should the Statement have gone farther? Absolutely! Could it have done so? Perhaps. Is there work left to be done? Without question! Do I wish that it had been less equivocal? Yes! One example: the Statement makes repeated attempts to maintain a clear distinction between the "sons and daughters"of the church, on the one hand, and the "Church," on the other. The distinction, however, entails such a subtle ecclesiological move that it is open to misreading: an attempt to put distance between the "official" church and the behavior of Catholics immediately preceding and during the Shoah; an effort to shift responsibility away from the papacy. But the very issuance of the Statement seems to suggest that the two cannot be separated.
And yet, for all its missteps and false starts; for all its flaws, imperfections, and equivocations, the Vatican Statement on the Shoah is, nonetheless, a remarkable document. I applaud it. I welcome it. I am proud of my church for having written it and making it available to anyone who wants to read it. First, it is an extraordinary act of both courage and humility for the Roman Catholic church, or for any institution, to step into the public eye and admit that it was complicitous in, and culpable, for the role it, and not just some of its "sons and daughters," played in the persecution of the Jewish people. Both the capacity and the willingness of any institution to engage publicly in self-criticism, however nuanced, are a sign and a symbol of its vulnerability, and an acknowledgment of its need to be always reforming itself. Although there are voices to the contrary, such an admission is not a sign of the church’s weakness, but rather of its strength and of its confidence in the power of God’s Holy Spirit to breathe new life into it.
Second, I applaud and I welcome the Statement because, as others have also noted, it provides a "teachable moment" in and for the church. Catholics everywhere need now reckon with this document, shortcomings and all. As part of the body of official church teaching, it becomes a document that Catholics are obliged to study. However reluctant and incomplete a confession, it is now a matter of public and ecclesial records . . . for all time. And while it flees from frankness, it does not let the reader escape its message: Catholics are obligated to do the deeds of repentance. We must acknowledge our communal and individual sin against the Jewish people who have suffered immensely under us and under a gospel of love twisted into a theology of hate. We must commit ourselves to do the work of contrition. We must promise never again to repeat that shame-filled history . . . and we must act on that promise! In sum, the Vatican Statement, We Remember: Reflections on the Shoah, invites Catholics everywhere to dedicate themselves to creating a future where there will be no more pain and no more tears; a future where justice and mercy meet; a future where all live together in God’s own shalom.
