Commission On Interreligious Affairs
of Reform Judaism

Speeches

Do Christians and Jews Believe in the Same God?

By: Rabbi Jan Katzew
November 8, 2001/22 Cheshvan 5762 My formative experience in Jewish-Christian dialogue coincidentally occurred in 1965, the year in which Nostra Aetate was promulgated. I was a fourth grade student and our teacher, Mrs. O'Mara - it is noteworthy that we remember the names of significant teachers - assigned us a project that included learning how to construct and conduct interviews. Since I already hoped to become a rabbi myself, I decided to interview three rabbis, three priests and three ministers in order to ask them questions about religions other than the one with which they were affiliated. I remember that several of them either could not or would not respond to any of the questions I posed about God-beliefs, sacred texts or ritual practices. As much as I learned about other religious leaders, I learned more about the sort of religious leader I would aspire to be, someone who chose to become a rabbi not out of ignorance of other religious traditions, but out of some appreciation for them. This remains my primary motivation for involvement in this dialogue - personal more than professional, heuristic more than hermeneutic and educational more than theological.The question, "Do Christians and Jews believe in the same God?" lends itself to a dialogue between a Christian and a Jew. I do not stand here as an impartial, dispassionate observer of both traditions seeking to assess their theological interrelationship. Rather I stand here as a partial, passionate observer of Judaism who is open to the possibility that Jews and Christians meet the same God. This question is important now because of profound, historic changes in the Christian, and particularly Catholic understanding of Judaism. After nearly two thousand years of dispute, we are turning to dialogue, seeking shared meaning, and at the heart of this dialogue is a search for God. I understand this to be a revolutionary development, not intended to change core beliefs and practices, but to see them in a new light and in a new, potentially symbiotic relationship. As academic as this dialogue may appear to be, its consequences are not academic at all. As the relationship between us changes, we change. After having seen ourselves as others, we are creating possibilities for seeing ourselves as brothers.There are fundamental asymmetries in our dialogue.

1. Practice, not theology, lies at the heart of Judaism.Jews have been the victims of Christian theology, accused of deicide for most of the last two millennia.The world Jewish population represents just over 1% of the Christian population.American Jews are assimilating with intermarriage in the range of 50%, and consequently, our growth, if not homeostasis is in question.
2. What Jews have to lose in this dialogue is more intuitively and empirically obvious than what we have to gain.

After having assumed a defensive, apologetic posture for so long, it is difficult and counter-cultural to trust the motives behind the desire for rapprochement. It is not surprising that some Jewish leaders react with skepticism, fear and even cynicism as some of our Christian counterparts seek to effect Teshuvah and renew their relationships with Judaism and the Jewish people. Perhaps it is a means to an end, a soft-sell supersessionism, a recognition that dispute only hardened the Jewish people, sharpening our resolve to maintain our theological integrity. As a Jew and as a teacher, I feel challenged, but not threatened by this dialogue, to realize that some of my preconceptions about Christianity and Christians were wrong, that I couldn't hide behind the veil of mutual exclusivity, and choose to consider the possibility that we believe in the same God.One Jewish attitude towards Christian theology is polemical, epitomized in a 14th century text entitled "The Refutation of Christian Principles" by Hasdai Crescas. "The Christian says God, may He be blessed, has three separate attributes, which he calls persons, and the Jew denies this; the Christian believes that God, may he be blessed, has an attribute called son, generated from the Father, and the Jew denies this; and the Christian believes that God, may He be blessed, has an attribute which proceeded from the Father and the Son called Spirit, and the Jew denies this. The Christian believes that the Son took on flesh in the womb of the virgin; and the Jew denies this." However, for nearly a millennium an alternative Jewish theological voice has emerged - one that accepts and appreciates the Christian claim to worship the God of Israel. Rabbi Jacob Emden in an 18th century commentary on the Mishnah wrote: "Every assembly for the sake of Heaven will in the end be established. Speaking of both Christianity and Islam he stated, "Their assembly is also for the sake of Heaven, to make Godliness known among the nations, to speak of Him in distant places." Elsewhere, in a letter he declared that Jesus, 'the Nazarene, brought about a double kindness in the world. On the one hand, he strengthened the Torah of Moses majestically… On the other hand, he did much for the gentiles… by doing away with idolatry and removing the images from their midst. He obligated them with the Seven [Noahide] Commandments so that they should not be beasts of the field." This perspective supplements, but does not supplant its predecessor. It yields dialogue instead of disputation, and hope for a shared theological vision instead of two mutually exclusive theologies.I am Adonai your God, who brought you out from the land of Egypt, from a house of serfs. You are not to have any other gods before my presence. (Exodus 20:2-3) Jews read these verses as the first two of the Ten Commandments, whereas Christians read them as a single commandment. However counted, they represent a singular event at Mount Sinai, the most public theophany. The opening words of the God revealed at Sinai established the source of divine authority. They were not legislative; they were historical and covenantal. The first statement was one of history; the second of theology. The first established God's identity; the second demanded undivided loyalty. The context and content of this revelation make an essential point about our shared understanding of God. Jewish and Christian belief in God is not the consequence of philosophical argument, but of collective experience and communal memory. The covenant was made both with those who were physically present at Sinai and those who choose to be spiritually present at Sinai.Adonai spoke to Moshe, saying: Speak to the entire community of the Children of Israel and say to them: Holy are you to be, for holy am I, Adonai your God! (Leviticus 19:1-2) In the words of Rudolf Otto, God is 'wholly other'. In the words of Martin Buber, God is 'wholly same'. God is transcendent and immanent at once, the god of Israel and the Children of Israel meet when God inspires and the children aspire, when God commands and the children feel commanded, when God is holy and the children are worthy. The expressions of this meeting, as elucidated in the verses that follow in Leviticus 19 are not in the heavens, but on earth. They are not in abstract theory, but in concrete action, when we do not curse the deaf realizing that all of us are deaf, and do not put stumbling blocks before the blind knowing that all of us are blind. Jews and Christians meet God together when we imitate God's love and kindness, when are actions deserve blessing.Jewish and Christian interpretations of God are incommensurable. A person who accepts a triune, incarnate deity is a Christian, not a Jew. However, Jewish identity does not live by faith alone. In one of its most consciously provocative and inclusive decisions, the Reform Movement in Judaism promulgated a policy of parental descent along with outreach to the Jews on the margins, whereby a person who has a Jewish parent and has committed publicly and exclusively to a Jewish identity is presumed to be a Jew. This stands in contrast to the Talmudic articulation of matrilineal descent. In both cases, there is an element of biology that contributes to Jewish identity. Theology defines Christianity, whereas theology refines Judaism. Within the Jewish community, some teachers, ancient, medieval and modern, have sought to circumscribe Jewish- Christian dialogue based on the position that Christians are idolaters, a position which renders theological dialogue impossible. Foremost among them was the 12th century philosopher and codifier Maimonides, and yet when he wrote authoritatively about Teshuvah, the process whereby a sin is forgiven, through not forgotten he offered the following judgment. "It is forbidden to be cruel and not to be appeased. Instead, be easy to satisfy and hard to anger. When the sinner seeks forgiveness, forgive him wholeheartedly and willingly. Even if he caused distress and sinned greatly, do not take vengeance and hold a grudge - that is the way of the seed of Israel…(Hilchot Teshuvah 2:10) The Christian community in general and the Catholic community in particular are engaged in the painful, protracted process of Teshuvah.Concussions from the Shoah shook the foundations of the Church, and the aftershocks led to the creation of a two-covenant theology, which legitimizes the Jews' claim to the God of Israel. As a Jew, I believe it is my responsibility to do everything in my power to forgive, but not to forget the past. As a teacher, I believe it is my responsibility to learn and teach about the history of dispute and accusations of deicide as well as the presence of profound positive change within the last forty years. "Our goal is theological harmony, not homogenization. We seek what we share and acknowledge where we differ." In the immediate aftermath of catastrophe, when all of America called '911', I wondered whether this dialogue would assume a lower priority, or even worse, be rendered irrelevant. However, if anything, catastrophe has made this important dialogue urgent. People who believe in God, who claim to be religious, have serious soul-searching to do. And people in religious education have a particularly vital role to play in reasserting the healing role of faith in mending a broken world, a world more in pieces than at peace. President Bush was at a school in Florida when he learned of the attacks on our nation. As an educator, I find the symbolism compelling. We have heard nothing about the national education agenda in the last eight weeks. But it is precisely that agenda that will ultimately define America. As we work to repair a broken world and learn to cope with cultural change, over time, education will not only make a difference, it will make all the difference.We have been tragically reminded that no country is entirely independent. All countries are interdependent. In a manner similar to the dialogue between Christians and Jews, catalyzed by the Shoah, once again coalition building is the result of cataclysm. Does it take the Shoah or a monumental terrorist attack for people to acknowledge that we need each other? That no religion and no nation is an island? We realize we need help most when we are victims.If any of us, as people or as peoples, are held up to the standard of strict truth, we will all fail, we will all fall. Similarly, if any one of us, as individuals or as a group, believes that we have the Truth, we leave no room for dialogue, no room for pluralism, and ironically, no room for God. We are learning as Jews and Christians how to discriminate between our beliefs and practices, rather than against them. On the cusp of World War 2, the first and greatest Chief Rabbi of Israel, Rav Abraham Isaac Kuk wrote a commentary on the Siddur, the prayer book of the Jewish people. He offered timely, and perhaps timeless wisdom in his reflections on the relationship between learning and peace. "There are those who mistakenly think that world peace can only come when there is a unity of opinions and character traits. Therefore, when scholars and students of Torah disagree, and develop multiple approaches and methods, they think that they are causing strife and opposing shalom. In truth, it is not so, because true shalom is impossible without appreciating the value of pluralism intrinsic in shalom. The various pieces of peace come from a variety of approaches and methods that make it clear how much each one has a place and a value that complements one another. Even those methods that appear superfluous or contradictory possess an element of truth that contributes to the mosaic of shalom. Indeed, in all the apparently disparate approaches lies the light of truth and justice, knowledge, fear and love of God, and the true light of Torah." (Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kuk Olat Re'iah. Vol. 1)We have not yet learned the lesson he tried to teach. Shalom requires humility, the awareness that each person and each people are partial, and therefore, we need each other. In the same way that pieces of a mosaic fit together, so can different cultures and different religious communities complement one another. Peace depends on acceptance, not agreement, on mutual respect, not the victory of one person or one nation over another. Peace derives from harmony, not uniformity. This is a deeply Jewish, religious perspective that promotes a tentative, tolerant worldview, and openness to alternative truths. At the conclusion of each Jewish worship-service one prayerful expression of adoration called the Aleynu epitomizes the tension and the promise embedded in our dialogue. It begins expressing the uniqueness of the Jewish people, the distinctiveness of the relationship between God and the Jewish people and the sanctity of differentiating the Jews from all other peoples and religious communities. " It is incumbent upon us to praise the Ruler of all, who made our lot unlike that of other people, assigning to us a unique destiny." This is the exclusivist, particularist voice within Judaism. Jews are both apart from and a part of the rest of the world. But the prayer continues, and the voice changes from particularist to universalist, and the calculus of Jewish thought grows from differentiation to integration. The focus moves from the obligation of preserving a unique relationship with God to the hope of witnessing a universal relationship with God. Our differences are real, but they are ephemeral. We worship the same God differently. "And so we hope in You, Adonai our God, soon to see your splendor, sweeping idolatry away so that false gods will be utterly destroyed, perfecting the earth by Your sovereignty so that all humankind will invoke Your name… May everyone accept Your Sovereignty…On that day Adonai shall be One…" There will come a day that is not yet, that is opaque to us, a day cloaked in mystery on which our differences will pale in contrast with what we share. On that day, we will not only worship the same God, we will worship God the same. Neither Christianity nor Judaism will have triumphed in this eschatology. God will have won and God will be One. The paragraphs of the Aleynu articulate the contrast between the evanescence of our uniqueness and the eternality of our unity. This perspective enables us to remain humble and hopeful, realizing that no one of us owns the Truth, and that some day all of us will share the Truth. Until that day, even if it is a tributary and not the mainstream, dialogue should flow between Jews and Christians. We can help to transform a relationship that has been toxic and parasitic to one that is tonic and symbiotic, not trying to convince or convert, but rather trying to accept and respect. God is big enough for Judaism and Christianity. We need to demonstrate that Jews and Christians can leave enough room for each other and for God. In most Jewish schools we do not relate to Christianity at all. Operating assumptions include:

1. Christianity permeates American culture, and given the challenges of assimilation and acculturation, the primary task of Jewish education is differentiation, accentuating Jewish distinctiveness.
2. The intermarriage rate in the Jewish community hovers around 50%. American Jews are Jews by choice - whether or not they were born as Jews, and Jewish education is responsible to incentivize Jewish choices.

When synagogue schools do provide a context for learning about Christianity, frequently the setting is a church. However, Christians teaching Jews about Christianity is different from Jews teaching Jews about Christianity. Rather than providing a model of a Jewish leader who is knowledgeable about Christian doctrine and practice, we make a powerful implicit statement by contextualizing learning about Christianity from Christians in a church, learning about a stranger in a strange land. Ironically, this educational experience may reinforce the otherness of the other. The Catholic-Jewish Liaison Committee recently noted: "It is particularly important that Jewish schools teach about the Second Vatican Council and subsequent documents and attitudinal changes which opened new perspectives and possibilities for both faiths." (5/4/01 - International Catholic-Jewish Liaison Committee, NY 17th meeting) I have grown to appreciate my good fortune in having Dr. Michael Cook, a distinguished predecessor in this forum, teach me about Christianity at the Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion. As is the case often in education, the teacher was the text. Here was a Jew, a rabbi, teaching future rabbis about Christianity, a role model who demonstrated that not only was there nothing to fear in knowledge of Christianity, but that there was much to learn from Christianity. We gained depth and perspective on the development of midrash, codes, commentary and liturgy - in part as responses to the challenges of Christianity. But more than content knowledge, the fact that an insider was our teacher made the lesson more than academic. The Jewish community needs more leaders who are capable of teaching about Christianity, more accessible exemplars of Jews for whom Christianity is not alien.In the spirit of dialogue, I think it is reasonable that I ask of you no more than I can expect of myself. Therefore, I do not expect the Catholic community to put an end to all forms of anti-Jewish behavior. There are Jewish extremists, the Meir Kahanes, the Barukh Goldsteins and the Yigal Amirs, and I would not want you to judge me by their behaviors. Instead, I would ask you to witness their repudiation and their marginalization within the Jewish community. Extremists do not define themselves as such. That is the task of the rest of us who regard their actions as extreme.We are learning skills from this dialogue that can assist us in other contexts in which the goal is to bridge seemingly unbridgeable gulfs. Just over half a century ago it would have been either foolish or precognitive to have predicted the process of Teshuvah in the Church that served as a precondition for our nascent theological dialogue. We can hope for and work towards a trialogue with a Muslim partner. We are learning that our dialogue is a process, not a series of discrete events, that it requires a soulful self-reckoning, acknowledging the exclusivist, particularlist elements of our respective traditions and communities and respectfully offering an authentic, relevant alternative. Our dialogue engenders risk, for what is new is not safe, a sentiment currently palpable in much of the American population. Dialogue requires a partner, and I feel privileged, if not blessed with Phil Cunningham as mine, because he meets the criteria for shared learning articulated by the Rabbis in the Mishnah - Find an authoritative teacher; acquire a study partner and judge the entire person giving the benefit of the doubt. Dialogue requires a moral commitment to transcend xenophobia. Those of us in the field of dialogue need to accept the presence of spectators and critics, some who will cheer and some who will jeer, as we try to reveal a shared language that will not only change our relationship to each other, but change us as well. Like the brothers who decided to walk together in order to find their way out of the forest, we are not sure where we are headed, but we are increasingly sure that we are doing so together. We are learning that God is big enough for Jews and Christians. Perhaps we will demonstrate that we can keep our sacred covenants with God and build one between each other, i.e., with each brother. Who would have imagined in either the Christian or Jewish community of 1901 that a hundred years later at a Jesuit college, in Pope auditorium no less, a Jewish and a Catholic educator would address the question, "Do Christians and Jews worship the same God?" But here we are. Thank God.Topics for follow-up dialogue

1. What have Jews and Catholics learned from the dialogue that has wider implications and applications? - hope is appropriate/ instead of amplitudes of despair and euphoria/ we cannot speak for the other/ we need partnersHow do we teach about each other?Different journeys/paths we have begun that have led us together - reflections on the different journeys - How do Jews respond to Catholic teshuvah? - seriousness of Catholic efforts - Cardinal Cassidy's remarks that Catholics need to do Teshuvah
2. We have thought together about how we will present our remarks, then shared topics.

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