Dialogue and Doctrine
Dynamics in the Contemporary Christian-Jewish Dialogue
By Rev. Isaac C. Rottenberg

The following brief survey of three areas of doctrinal concern is meant to be illustrative of why the dialogue [between Christians and Jews] would be well served by a lively internal Christian debate. Marcus Braybrooke’s book Time to Meet will be used as a sort of launching pad, mainly because it provides a handy framework for the kind of limited discussion that is offered here. The works of the leading scholars in the field cannot be dealt with in the context of this brief discussion.

The Doctrine of God

Historically, Christian Trinitarian dogma, as developed during the early centuries of the Church, has been a major subject of dispute between Jews and Christians. This is still true today, because despite Christian disclaimers that belief in the Trinity does not involve a denial of biblical monotheism, Jews remain persuaded that the credal language of the Church concerning Jesus crosses the boundaries of belief in the Oneness of God.

That ancient debate remains on the agenda, but in recent years another issue has become the focus of attention in the dialogue. It can be summed up in this question: "What belief in God is still possible after the Holocaust?" A concomitant question then is this: "To what extent must traditional teachings about God be changed?"

Braybrooke notes that "reflection on the Holocaust has not, at an official level, yet had much influence on Christian theology in, for example, the understanding of God’s power and love." 1 But, besides the observation that Christians may perhaps still "have to come to terms with the impact of the Holocaust on all faith in God’s goodness," 2 offers no further specifics.

However, on the non-official level of individual theologians, the tone tends to be much less hesitant. Quite the opposite, it frequently has a hype quality about it. The Holocaust is referred to as an event of "ultimate significance," an "Alpine event," unique in human history. Some speak about the Holocaust in revelatory terms, as a reorienting event which changes the way we think about God and human history. It has even been suggested that every year after 1942 should now be termed A.F.S.– "After the Final Solution," thus replacing the designation Anno Domini.

True, the horrors of the Holocaust are such that people understandably find it hard to treat the subject as if it can be handled calmly and coolly. Sometimes silence would seem to be the better choice, but in the face of evil, silence should not have the last "word." Hence the struggle with language as found, for instance, in the writings of that great novelist/witness Elie Wiesel. Poets can help us to hear the unspeakable, but trying to imitate their language in doctrinal discussions has its danger, especially the danger of ending up with a faddist theology. One person’s cri de coeur becomes the next person’s slogan.

"Holocaust theologians" have made a significant contribution in forcing the churches to face their past. They have documented the long history of Christian anti-Judaism, which–quite frequently–led to anti-Semitism, which–in turn–

culminated in Hitler’s "Final Solution." But there are also those who seem to assume that the degree of one’s penitence can be measured in direct proportion to the radical rhetoric one uses.

What does it mean, for instance, when we are told that anyone who does theology today without beginning with Auschwitz continues to live in the "Kingdom of Night?" Most of us, even those of us who lived under Hitler’s murderous reign and lost many relatives in the "Kingdom of Night," have no idea what a theology looks like that starts, not with Moses and the prophets, Jesus and the apostles, but with Auschwitz.

Michael Wyschogrod has stated the issue quite well in his critique of Rabbi Irving Greenberg’s claim that traditional views of God the Redeemer must be abandoned "in the presence of the burning children," which would supposedly constitute a revelatory event. Writes Wyschogrod: "Inserted at the heart of Judaism as a revelational event comparable to Sinai, the holocaust [Wyschogrod does not capitalize the word] will necessarily destroy Judaism and give Hitler the posthumous victory we all wish to deny him." 3

Just as Wyschogrod refuses to assign a place for the Holocaust at the inner sanctum of Judaism, so should Christians deny it a determinative influence on their confession of God. That does, of course, not preclude raising agonizing questions about the issue of evil, forced upon us with greater urgency than ever in the face of demonic acts of such a historic scale.

The Doctrine of Christ

Braybrooke’s book contains a segment on "The Jewish Jesus" in which the author makes some valid points: Jesus must be interpreted in continuity with, and not exclusively in opposition to, the Judaism of his day; the Law should not be portrayed one-sidedly as a burden, ignoring the biblical message about delight in the Law; Jesus’ arguments with the Pharisees were no greater than the arguments among the Pharisees, etc. Through the dialogue new insights have been gained on these and other issues.

However, in his eagerness not to exalt Jesus at the expense of Judaism, Braybrooke displays a tendency to go overboard on the other side, denying–for instance–that any tensions existed between Jesus and elements in the Jewish leadership. Reputable scholars, both Jewish and Christians, would contest such a conclusion.

But the pendulum really swings into extreme territory when the Christian confession of Jesus’ lordship comes up. Such a confession, according to Braybrooke, "seems unavoidably to be a criticism of Judaism." 4 Here he seeks support in Rosemary Ruether’s dictum that anti-Semitism is "the left hand of Christology." Confessing that Jesus is the Messiah, so the argument goes, amounts to an implicit claim that Christianity contains a "plus" over Judaism and is tantamount to declaring Judaism to be inferior.

Once again an appeal to Auschwitz is supposed to supply the justification for a radical (and for most Christians, impossible) theological stance. "To affirm that Jesus was the Messiah vindicated by God not only seems to invalidate Jewish faith, it also appears to ignore the evil of the world, so horribly revealed at Auschwitz and for which the very Christian teaching of the triumph of the cross [i.e. the resurrection!] must take some blame." 5 By all means, let us call the Church to account for the sinful triumphalism which has so often dominated its actions, but to say that this can be done only through a denial of any redemptive fulfillment in the cross and resurrection of Christ is a non sequitur of massive proportions.

In some Christian circles it has become commonplace to argue that New Testament fulfillment language is ipso facto triumphalistic, because it allegedly claims for the here and now what is promised only for the eschatological future. The text does not support such a position. Rather, the opposite is true, the New Testament is intensely eschatological in tone precisely because God’s salvation in Christ has filled the air (even the creation itself! – Romans 8) with expectation.

Since Braybrooke views all religions as being equally valid windows "on to ultimate reality," he sees no point in arguing about which window might give the better view. With such a theological position, the dialogue cant be safely and comfortably confined to questions of general religiosity. But that would also limit the dialogue to a very narrow circle of participants who do by and large not represent the professed views of the churches.

The Christological formulations of ancient councils are not to be considered sacrosanct and off limits to critical inquiry.6 Revision of past theological traditions must always be left open as a possibility. More than once churches have had to confess their past doctrinal incorrectness. But for a real dialogue to take place on such crucial issues, there needs to be room around the table for a broad spectrum of theological positions within the Church.

The Doctrine of the Church

The New Testament recognized a variety of ministries: apostles, prophets, teachers, evangelists, agents of mercy, all people called to serve not only the Church, but to serve Christ in the world–for the sake of the Kingdom. Just as Israel was not called for its own sake, but in order that the Name of the God of Israel might be known upon the earth and the future of the Lord might be established, so the Church is called to proclaim the gospel of the Kingdom to the nations. If one can speak of a "philosophy of history" in the scriptures, that–in a nutshell–is it. There is a Missio Dei, a divine rescue mission that reaches out to all creation. The people of God are those who have been "called out" to serve that mission.

From its earliest beginnings the Church has understood itself as a sent (apostolic) community. As we would say today, that was part of their self-definition. Thus, in a relatively short period of time the gospel traveled throughout the Greco-Roman world, then across Europe, to the continent of America, and, especially during the past two centuries, to the ends of the earth. This story is one of mixed motives and mixed blessings, to say the least. Even when done with the best of intentions, the missionary movement remained a very human and hence very fallible enterprise. The Church’s mission, like the history of Israel, although divinely ordained, is not beyond the power of sin.

The apostolate of the Church takes on many forms, but the authority of all of them derives from the Word and the Spirit. The Church, when faithful to its mission at all, has understood it as a mandate; not an elective, not one of many options, not an activity added to the life of the Church, but belonging to its being, its esse. The Church is Church-for-the-world, and proclamation is an essential aspect of serving the world.

Jews, as Braybrooke rightly observes, "find it hard to appreciate why it is so difficult for Christians to abandon the missionary appeal." 7 Indeed, to many Jews this is a problem but some leading Jewish spokespersons have come to appreciate very well how for multitudes of Christians this is a matter of conscience. They have openly written about that and have called for a dialogue on what form witness ought to take, particularly with respect to Jews who, after all, are no strangers to the prophetic Word.

However, some Jews as well as some Christians have recommended a "wordless witness," usually emphasizing a moral life style, or social involvement, or support for the Jewish people and Israel. While not denying the need for all those forms of witness, Christian theology has never been able to totally detach itself from the belief that the Word of the Lord wants to be proclaimed. Revelation and its redemptive message are not to be found in the exemplary behavior of the Jewish people, but in the prophetic witness to Israel’s God. In Christian history, any idea that the Mission Dei can be embodied in the good deeds of church members has usually been rejected as moralistic, which, of course, in no way implies a defense of "deedless witness."

Deeds can reinforce the Word or, as has happened so often, they can contradict the message proclaimed to such an extent that the witness loses all credibility. In his novel The Gates of the Forest, Elie Wiesel has one of his characters say, "Stop thinking about our salvation and perhaps the cemeteries won’t be so full of Jews." What a terrible indictment! But we need to hear it, and we ought to ask ourselves: What kind of witness has integrity in the post-Holocaust era? That question surely should be part of the dialogue.

Finally, and this will be the focus of what follows, the mission issue as well as dialogue itself, are further complicated by the existence of a growing Messianic Jewish movement which, on the one hand, refuses to accept every aspect of a de-Judaized Gentile Church as valid for them and, on the other hand, insists on arguing their case with the Jewish community in terms of the earliest period of the Church when Jewish-Christians often remained within the fold of Judaism. This is one of the most emotional and controversial issues today. By and large "mainline" Christian dialoguers are caught in an uneasy alliance with some Jewish spokespersons who characterize the whole movement as fraudulent, while Evangelicals are engaged in a precarious balancing act, trying to convince both Jews and Jewish Christians that they are "on their side."

When a Jew confesses what Christians believe, namely a new and decisive redemptive act of God in Jesus Christ, he or she is likely to end up in a spiritual "no-man’s land." Jewish leaders in the dialogue movement will repudiate them and, in subtle or not-so-subtle ways, demand that Christian partners in dialogue do the same. So, for all practical purposes, those people are "excommunicated" from the fellowship of faith and treated as adversaries, except if they promise to live as quiet Jews who are well-adjusted to the words and ways of a de-Judaized church and refrain from sharing their new-found faith with their brothers and sisters.

Truth-Passion-Pain

The late Rabbi Pinchas Peli, whose "Tora Today" columns in the Jerusalem Post provided education and inspiration to Jews and Gentiles alike, has reminded us that a dialogue in search of truth does not come without pain. "I am convinced," he wrote, "that the basis and aim of dialogue should not be less than that required by the prophet Zechariah" (8:16,19) and which includes both ‘truth’ and ‘peace.’ The truth may be painful at times, but no real peace can be achieved without facing it." 8

Braybrooke too declares that "at its deepest dialogue will raise questions of truth," but when it comes to affirmations of truth in open confrontation, his book–like so much dialogue literature–is filled with ambiguity and, at times, double standard thinking. Since he considers all religions as equally valid windows on to ultimate reality, he is content to leave everybody alone with their own truth. In short, it simply does not make sense to even discuss such matters. After all, while dialogue may be called "a serious search for truth . . . it does suppose that no one religion has a monopoly on truth," 9 a pious truism which does not help much in determining the dynamics of a valid dialogical debate.

According to page one of Time to Meet, the book is about "issues which now need to be tackled," i.e. it presents a dialogue agenda for Christians. However, after one finishes the book, Christians with more traditional views are left with plenty to defend, but there seems little left to debate between Christians and Jews. Christianity has abandoned major tenets of its faith, its missionary mandate, and–because of its guilty past–the right to affirm any truth that might give offense to Jewish dialogue partners. Christians have many sins to confess, but a guilt-ridden approach to dialogue will never produce a genuine relationship.

Braybrooke cites a 1988 document issued by the Lambeth Conference, which states that "genuine dialogue demands that each partner brings to it the fullness of themselves and the tradition in which they stand." 10 Christians should also be prepared for the fact that their Jewish partners will come to the dialogue with severe criticism of "Christian" history. Dialogue literature contains such critiques in abundance. It may be painful, but we must listen.

However, Braybrooke’s constant concern about the "security" of the new relationship between Jews and Christians which must be maintained at all cost, and the frequent warnings in dialogue literature that Christians refrain from mentioning confessional elements of their faith that speak of the fullness of redemption in Christ, because it allegedly implies that Judaism is "inferior," would seem to suggest a dialogical immaturity and delicateness that requires the avoidance of honest confrontation.

When Rabbi Henry Siegman, in the article mentioned before, says, "As a believing Jew I affirm that Judaism is the ‘truest’ religion," only wishy washy Christians would object that such a statement is an insult to their faith, or would feel a restraint in making a similar affirmation about their own religion. The problem starts–and it started early in Christian history–when one person’s confession of truth is used to malign another person’s faith. The church father John Chrysostom gave an example of such vindictive logic when he wrote: "If the Jewish rites are holy and venerable, our way of life must be false. But if our way is true, as indeed it is, theirs is fraudulent." 11 The realization that quite a few of his listeners had attended service in the synagogue the day before, to a large degree explains Chrysostom’s resentful mood, but in no way excuses his strident language.

In his foreword to the book Overcoming Fears between Jews and Christians, Irvin Borowsky observes that "dialogues that are merely polite and passionless are limiting at best." 12 He feels passionate about revising New Testament texts, and is willing to contribute considerable resources toward that goal. We may argue and disagree about specifics (Mr. Borowsky’s first attempt when he published his "American Holy Bible," dedicated to Thomas Jefferson, was not an entirely fortuitous effort), but it involves a legitimate concern, even though the process may be painful for some. On the other hand, there are many Christians who feel passionate about the Church’s missionary mandate. A mature dialogue, one would hope, can deal with a variety of passions in the same room at the same time.

Father Edward Flannery wrote the following sentences some seventeen years ago: "Because of its immaturity, theological conversation between Jews and Christians has thus far not proved to be overly fruitful. Until now dialogues of this sort have exhibited overcautiousness, excessive fear of offending, preoccupation with agreements and consonances, and also over-readiness to take offense." 13 There is a danger that the dialogue will deteriorate into a mutual affirmation society between a circle of scholars who welcome each other’s views, while the convictions of a large majority of Christians who, in some cases represent the growing edge of the Church, are avoided.

On the other hand, we all realize that, after many centuries of estrangement and hostility, the search for rapprochement is still relatively young. It is therefore to be hoped that from the present mainstream of dialogue a variety of tributary streams will be formed, enriching the landscape, and bringing new, refreshing resources to the movement. The Christian ecumenical movement has by and large got stuck in an establishmentarian statism. The same should not be allowed to happen to the interfaith dialogue movement.


1 Marcus Braybrooke, Time to Meet: Towards a deeper relationship between Jews and Christians (Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1990), p. 15., p. 36f. See also this author’s article "‘Comparative theology’ versus ‘Reactive Theology’: Jewish and Christian Approaches to the Presence of God." in Pro Ecclesia (Fall 1994, Vol. III, No. 4, pp. 411-418).

2 Ibid., p. 113.

3 Cf. Tradition (Fall 1977, Vol. 16, No. 5), p. 75. Gershon Mamlak sees the spectre of commercialization in all that talk about the role (or non-role) of God in the Holocaust. None of those theories, he states, "reach the bottomless profundity of Job and the comprehensiveness of the Talmudic statement: "We are helpless to grasp the success of the evildoers and the suffering of the just." (Cf. "The Holocaust: Commodity?", Midstream, April 1983, p. 13). Cf. also I.C. Rottenberg, "The Holocaust and Belief in a God of Holy Love" in The Reformed Journal (May, 1982) and "The Holocaust and the Development of Church Doctrine" in Pro Ecclesia (Spring, 1995, Vol. IV, No. 2).

4 Op, cit., p. 59.

5 Ibid., p. 69.

6 Cf., I.C. Rottenberg, "A Re-Judaized Jesus?" in Perspectives (December, 1992).

7 Ibid., p. 97.

8 Cf. The Jerusalem Post (International Editions, November 21, 1987), p. 22.

9 Op, Cit., p. 95.

10 Ibid., p. 30.

11 Cf. Interwoven Destinies: Jews and Christians through the Ages, ed. Eugene J. Fisher (New York: Paulist Press, A Stimulus Book, 1993), p. 78.

12 Overcoming Fear between Jews and Christians, p. XII.

13 Cf. Face to Face (Winter/Spring, 1976), p. 4.

This article is excerpted from Jewish Christians in an Age of Christian-Jewish Dialogue, an excellent evaluation of a sensitive, important issue for the church.