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  • Antisemitism and the Contemporary Catholic Tradition in America
  • Mary C. Boys (bio)

In his article, John Pawlikowski, a colleague of many years in Jewish-Catholic relations, poses the question of whether the roots of antisemitism have been fully erased from Catholic consciousness. He discusses how antisemitism lurks in the Church's lingering Marcionism, the anti-Jewish legacy of the early Church writers, the defensive and misleading assertions of the 1988 statement We Remember, preachers' continuing vilification of the Pharisees, and the ambiguity evident in current ecclesial documents regarding Catholicism's relationship with other religious traditions. Pawlikowski concludes that despite extensive and significant declarations from various Church officials and institutions, the seeds of antisemitism have yet to be completely excised.

While I agree with Pawlikowski's argument, I would like to suggest that focusing a wider lens reveals the complexities involved in uprooting antisemitism from within Catholic life. As momentous as the post-Nostra Aetate trajectory has been in Catholicism, it is naïve to think that a phenomenon as protean as antisemitism can ever be erased or excised, despite the efforts of many at various levels of the Church. Adjusting the lens brings into stark relief the challenges encountered by those committed to counteracting antisemitism. [End Page 324]

The Wider Cultural Context

At least in the American context with which I am most familiar, Christianity increasingly seems to exercise a waning influence on society in the face of partisan politics, exacerbated by the massive amount of misinformation and disinformation emanating from media sources. Not only does the content on our devices, made available by technology, tend to make religious practices and beliefs seem obsolete, but the nation's political partisanship spills over into congregational life. Many Evangelical churches serve as a case in point, Peter Wehner writes, by becoming politicized in ways that influence their adherents to accept the basest aspects of U.S. culture and politics. Church life thus reinforces tribal identities, nurtures fears, and sacralizes aggression and nastiness. Moral formation, consequently, happens primarily not through the churches but through the consumption of media. The ubiquitous cable shows dwarf the hour or two people may spend in church. Wehner cites humanities professor Alan Jacobs, who speaks of "culture catechesis": handing on what matters and what perspectives one should hold. Jacobs argues: "What all those media want is engagement, and engagement is most reliably driven by anger and hatred. They make bank when we hate each other. And so that hatred migrates into the Church, which doesn't have the resources to resist it."1

These sobering judgements have resonance within Catholic life as well. While much might be said about the divisions within American Catholicism, my focus here is on how these divisions complicate the process of educating Catholics in a deeper understanding of Judaism in the life of the Church. Insofar as the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops voted in November 2019 to make countering the threat of abortion its "pre-eminent priority," the official leadership level of the Church has principally devoted its energies to the culture wars regarding reproductive rights and related issues of sexuality, such as same-sex relationships and transgender identity. In the perception of some, their "pre-eminent priority" has led to a de-facto alignment with the Trumpian wing of [End Page 325] the Republican Party in which antisemitism skulks just below the surface—and sometimes breaks through it.

This alignment reveals that antisemitism has never been solely a religious phenomenon. Rather, it exists at the intersection of Christianity's anti-Jewish teachings and deeds with nationalism, white supremacy, xenophobia, and conspiracy theories. The streets of Charlottesville, Virginia provided a literal intersection for this confluence in the "Unite the Right" rally in August 2017. A mob of about 100 white nationalists—virtually all male—chanted in intimidating tones: "You will not replace us" and "Jews will not replace us." Waving Nazi and neo-Nazi flags, shouting "blood and soil," the marchers clearly intended to intimidate and terrorize. The trial of the rally's leaders (Sines v. Kessler) in Fall 2021 amply illustrates the connection between antisemitism and white supremacy. The analyses submitted by expert witnesses document the...

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