Christianity, as one might expect, has had and continues to have a signifi cant im-pact on Jewish life in the Diaspora. Th is article will begin with a discussion of the terms galut and diaspora, followed by a brief historical survey, which will include examples of Christian infl uence on the development of the Jewish Diaspora as well as the impact of Christian attitudes toward Zionism and the State of Israel.
It is necessary fi rst to appreciate the diff erence between living in the Diaspora, a Greek word meaning “scattering” or in the galut, a Hebrew word meaning exile.
Th ere is a tension between the view that Jews outside Israel live in a Diaspora (a voluntary situation desirable to the individual) or in galut (an undesirable situa-tion). Th us, galut may be understood in negative terms whereas Diaspora indicates a more positive role for the Jewish people. Traditionally (and for most of the last two millennia), Jews and Christians have viewed Jewish existence in terms of galut.
For Christians, galut represented a divine punishment because the Jewish people re-jected Christ, but for Jews it illustrated the suff ering of a Chosen People waiting for redemption at a time of God’s choosing through his anointed (Messiah). Of course, this attitude has considerably changed among Christians and Jews today, although strictly observant Jews outside Israel view their existence in terms of galut.
One should realize fi rst that the Jewish Diaspora was not a Christian creation.
In fact, well before the destruction of the Second Temple (70 CE), more Jews lived in the Diaspora than in the Land of Israel. Th e beginnings of the Diaspora can be seen in Assyria’s destruction of the northern kingdom of Israel in 722 BCE, which led to the scattering of the 10 tribes of Israel. Some went to Egypt; but the fi rst major Di-aspora community to fl ourish was in Babylon, shortly before the destruction of the First Temple in 586 BCE.
In the early postbiblical period, the major challenge faced by Jews was the de-struction of the Second Temple by the Romans in 70 CE. Th e Temple at Jerusalem had been the center of Jewish religious life. Its demolition, followed 65 years later by the expulsion of Jews from the city by Emperor Hadrian, was a serious threat to the survival of Judaism. In fact, only two Jewish groups survived its destruction:
rabbinic Jews and the Jewish followers of Jesus.
Th e rabbinic way of life was a new stage in the development of Judaism, and it enabled Jews to survive without a homeland as well as without a Temple. Th e rab-bis’ ability to respond to the new situation enabled them, eventually, to dominate Jewish life for the next 1,800 years.
Unlike the Sadducees, Zealots, monastic groups (such as the Qumran commu-nity), and Hellenists, the Jewish followers of Jesus were the only other Jewish sect that survived and fl ourished. Jesus the Jew followed Jewish customs, such as the di-etary laws; prayed in the Temple; and was called a rabbi. Yet the followers of Jesus quickly distanced themselves from Jewish customs and rituals and eventually from Judaism altogether. Th e date of the split is the subject of much debate, some suggest-ing it began as early as Paul of Tarsus (around 60 CE), others as late as Constantine (ruled 306–337 CE), or even later. One scholar, James Dunn, has sensibly described the separation in terms of a series of “partings of the ways.”
Yet once Christianity became the religion of the Roman Empire at the conver-sion of Emperor Constantine in 312 CE, signifi cant numbers of Jews began to live under Christian rule. Th ey maintained a strategy of yielding to political authority, which not only enabled them to survive but also contributed to the success of Jew-ish life in the Christian world. By relinquJew-ishing desire for sovereignty, Jews gained autonomy in regulating their lives. Under the motto dina d’malkulta dina (the law of the land is the law), the Jewish community based its existence on the law of a particular host society, and as a result Christian infl uence on Jewish life and practice became more common. For example, the banning of polygamy, which is traditionally ascribed to Rabbenu Gershom in the 10th century, was clearly infl uenced by Chris-tian custom, as was the adoption of wedding rings, a new development from around the seventh century. Judaism clearly had a good digestive system.
Jews who lived in the Diaspora affi rmed their connection to the Land of Israel by praying toward Jerusalem. Synagogues in Western Christian lands were designed so that the ark (aron ha-kodesh) was located in the eastern wall, facing Jerusalem. It is worth noting that synagogues, like churches, drew architecturally from Roman civic architecture, particularly the basilica or hall of justice. Th e synagogue at Sardis, Turkey (third–fourth centuries CE), for example, is basilican in form with a colon-naded forecourt leading to the Jerusalem-facing entry wall.
Th ose Jews in the Diaspora who fl ourished still looked forward to a return to the Land of Israel and refl ected on biblical texts such as Jeremiah 29:10, “He that scattered Israel will gather him and keep him, as a shepherd his fl ock.” Th ose Jews who suff ered oppression mourned their land more actively and prayed for the
Coin issued by Roman emperor Hadrian to commemorate the founding of Aelia Capitolina (formerly Jerusalem) after the Romans successfully quelled the second Jewish revolt (also known as the Bar Kokhba Revolt). The coin’s reverse depicts a priest plowing with bulls. (Zev Radovan/Land of the Bible Picture Archive)
messianic era to be initiated by God, an era that would bring them back to Israel.
Th is is illustrated by the following story in the Talmud:
Wherever Israel went into exile, the Shechina [God’s presence] went along into exile.
Th ey went to exile to Egypt, the Shechina went with them . . . Th ey went to Babylon in exile and the Shechina went with them . . . And when they will eventually be redeemed, the Shechina will be redeemed along with them. (Megillah 29a)
Th e name Schechina, or Shekinah, represents the feminine aspect of God and is understood as God’s presence. Th e story indicates that alongside the hope of divine restoration there existed the mystical idea that God was also exiled with his people.
Th is affi rmation is a direct response to the Christian adversus iudaeos teaching that Judaism became obsolete with the advent of Christ. Jews responded by suggesting that wherever they lived, God was with them. Just as Jews suff ered in exile, so God suff ered with them, demonstrating that God still cared for his people.
Jewish responses to Christianity can also be found in rabbinic biblical interpre-tation, such as interpretations of the Akedah (the Binding of Isaac; Genesis 22), one of the most well-known stories in the Bible. Th e Akedah is a shocking account of how Abraham’s faith in God was demonstrated by a willingness to sacrifi ce his long-awaited son at God’s command. Th is story has been a source of fascination for Jews and Christians for many centuries, but relatively little attention has been given to the question of the infl uence of Christianity upon Jewish exegesis.
It is striking that the rabbinic portrayal of Isaac parallels a number of aspects of the Christian understanding of Jesus. Like Jesus, Isaac was willing to give up his life (Lamentations Rabbah Proem 24). Like Jesus, Isaac was not forced to off er himself as a sacrifi ce but willingly gave himself up to his father (Fragmentary Targum 22:10).
Like Jesus, Isaac was described as weeping bitterly when told by Abraham that he was to be sacrifi ced (Midrash Composed under the Holy Spirit, 65). Like Jesus, Isaac shed blood (Mekhilta de Rabbi Ishmael, Pisha 7). Like Jesus, Isaac is depicted at the gates of Hell (Gehenna; Song of Songs Rabbah 8:9). In a similar way to Paul’s asser-tion concerning baptism (Galatians 3:28), the Akedah is described as atoning for all, Jew and non-Jew (Leviticus Rabbah 2:11). Perhaps most remarkably, Isaac is de-scribed as having died and having been resurrected (Pirkei de Rabbi Eliezer 31).
One other example in the rabbinic writings provides evidence that the rabbinic interpretation was infl uenced by Christian teaching: “ ‘And Abraham placed the wood of the burnt-off ering on Isaac his son’ (Genesis 22:5). Like a man who carries his cross (tzaluv) on his shoulder (Genesis Rabbah 56:3).” Th e reference to a cross is clearly in-fl uenced by the Christian description that Jesus carried his cross to the crucifi xion.
Th us, Jewish interpretations of the Akedah illustrate that rabbinic exegesis can-not be understood properly without reference to the Christian context. Indeed, Jewish biblical interpretation may be more easily understood when viewed in terms of exegetical encounter, because the rabbis were not only aware of Christian exege-sis but were infl uenced by it. Jews and Christians lived (and continue to live) in a bib-lically oriented culture and to a certain extent they are both “bound by the Bible.”
Th e host communities, both Christian and Islamic, had signifi cant impact upon Jews in the Diaspora in other ways. Jews often adopted the languages, dress,
customs, names, and even religious styles of the majority population. Examples in-clude the many Orthodox Jews who today wear distinctive clothing similar to that of 18th-century Polish gentry. Th e Reform Jewish movement based its early wor-ship services on German Lutheranism. Moses Maimonides and other Jewish phi-losophers wrote in Arabic, and Yiddish is a combination of Hebrew, German, and Polish. Despite living as a vulnerable minority within Christian Europe for centu-ries, there was extensive cross-fertilization between Diaspora Jews and their host Christian communities. Th at interplay included the fervent messianic movements that swept Europe in the 16th to 18th centuries, including some Jews who believed the reforms of Martin Luther were a precursor to the messianic era and some Chris-tian millenarians who similarly believed the messianic claims of Sabbatai Zevi.
At the same time, as the power of Christendom increased in Europe, Jewish life became more diffi cult and violence against Jewish communities became more com-mon. Th is was epitomized by the Crusades (11th to 16th centuries), which were holy wars preached by the papacy against the enemies of Christ and his Church.
Th e Crusades appealed widely to popular imagination and whipped up Christian emotion against Jews. For example, Urban’s call in 1095 led crusaders to depart for the Holy Land but on their way through Germany they encountered prosperous Jewish communities in cities like Worms, Mainz, and Cologne. Although the bish-ops tried to prevent anti-Jewish violence, many Jews were killed or forcibly bap-tised. Others died by their own hands as martyrs sanctifying God’s holy name (Kiddush ha-Shem). Extensive loss of Jewish life was prevented by Bernard of Clair-vaux during the Second Crusade. He stopped anti-Jewish preaching and expected Christians to adhere to traditional church policy protecting Jews. During the Th ird Crusade, the Jewish community of York was massacred in 1190 in Cliff ord’s Tower, in King Richard I’s absence. Narratives of these pogroms entered Jewish folklore and consciousness, contributing to a mindset that Jews were surrounded by (Chris-tian) enemies. For understandable reasons, Christianity was viewed as a constant threat to Jewish life in the Diaspora.
Th e dislocation in the relationship between Jews and Christian in Christian lands can also be seen in the architectural divergence between synagogue and church, which increased from the seventh century onward. Churches experi-mented with both centralized and longitudinal forms, although the basilican form remained predominant. Churches grew increasingly articulated on the exterior, taking pride of place as freestanding monuments in the civic realm. Synagogues, aware of their precarious position within the dominant Christian culture, adopted relatively inconspicuous exteriors to blend into the urban fabric.
For the most part, Jews passively accepted that they would suff er expulsions from Christian lands and pogroms at Christian hands, but they believed the Jewish people could live beyond such events. Th is survival technique is illustrated by the fact that even as the Jewish lights of Western Christian Europe were extinguished one by one—expelled from England (1290), France (1306), and Spain (1492)—new Jewish centers were being established in Eastern Christian Europe as well as in Is-lamic Turkey and the Middle East. A legacy of the mentality that saw the Jewish community as being utterly engulfed by Christian enemies remains entrenched in
the popular imagination. Rabbinic Judaism reinforced a perception among Jews that they were on their own, that no one else shared their vision, and that all out-siders were enemies. For centuries this refl ected considerable truth. Th is mindset was reinforced by Christian inquisitions and pogroms and, in the 20th century, by the Shoah.
A signifi cant change began, however, in the past 100 years when Jews in the Di-aspora began to discover that there were Christian communities in the world with which they could share a vision of a decent society. Th e transformation in relations between Judaism and Christianity is one of the few pieces of good news in modern encounters between religions. In the past 100 years, the need for Christianity to abandon its historical religious animosity and misleading caricature of Judaism has been overwhelming. Th ese views are now generally admitted as being wrong, but their full and public rejection was required before the possibility of rebuilding good relations with Judaism. Th us, what was required was a shift from what was, for the most part, an inherent need to condemn Judaism to the need to condemn Christian anti-Judaism. As far as the Christian contribution to anti-Semitism is concerned, the Protestant Churches and the Roman Catholic Church in particular, instead of being part of the problem, have now become part of the solution.
It was partly for this reason that an English Liberal Jew, Claude Montefi ore (1858–1938), called for
[Jewish] theologians who shall neither be afraid of Christian doctrine on the one hand, nor be on the constant search for contrasts on the other, who will not wish to impoverish Judaism by insisting on diff erences and contrasts, but will rather seek to enrich it by fi nding out what the great minds of other religions have thought and taught, and how much is consistent with Judaism, and valuable and worthy of adop-tion and incorporaadop-tion, and how much must be rejected . . . We need theologians who do not want to sit in corners and erect peculiar systems of their own, but who are willing to profi t and learn even from those whose traditions and accents are other than their own.” (Montefi ore 1923, 560–561)
On the other hand, Joseph Soloveitchik (1903–1993), who was the leading 20th-century Modern Orthodox religious authority in the Diaspora and whose reli-gious opinions and rulings are considered authoritative by many Jews, took a con-trasting position. While happy for Jews and Christians to work together in the social and political arenas, his 1964 essay on interreligious dialogue, entitled “Con-frontation,” prohibits dialogue with Christians. Although Soloveitchik was infl u-enced by Christian theologians and philosophers such as Soren Kierkegaard, he argues for a rejectionist approach. From his theological understanding of the de-velopment of human nature Soloveitchik concludes that the faith experience is private and incommunicable. Building on that argument he determines that inter-religious dialogue is intrinsically fl awed and should not be undertaken.
Whatever the views of theologians such as Montefi ore and Soloveitchik, Chris-tianity continued to have an impact on Jewish life in the Diaspora, including Christian attitudes to Zionism and the State of Israel. Zionism benefi ted from the Christian West’s rediscovery of the Holy Land in the 19th century, as well as from the climate created by numerous infl uential Christians, like George Eliot, who
advocated the restoration of the Jewish people to the Promised Land. Th e collapse of the Ottoman Empire in World War I, the capture of Palestine by General Edmund Allenby (1861–1936) and the publication of the Balfour Declaration in 1917, and the decision of the League of Nations to award Great Britain the mandate over Pales-tine, all facilitated the political and practical progress of the Zionist movement.
In the aftermath of the Holocaust, Zionism became a preeminent part of Jew-ish identity in the Diaspora. Many major Christian statements on the new relation-ship of the Church and the Jewish people stammer or even fall silent on the subject of Zionism and the State of Israel. In 1969, Edward Flannery (1912–1998) argued that the Christian psyche is subliminally predisposed to anti-Zionism, which pro-vides an outlet for suppressed or unconscious anti-Semitism.
Roman Catholicism’s offi cial attitude toward Zionism changed greatly in the course of the 20th century. In 1904, Pope Pius X rejected Th eodor Herzl’s plea for support unequivocally: “Th e Jews have not recognised our Lord, therefore we can-not recognise the Jewish people.” Nine decades later, in 1994, the Holy See estab-lished offi cial diplomatic relations with the State of Israel, and Pope John Paul II, during his historic visit to Israel in 2000, displayed deep respect for the nation of the Jewish people. Th e papal visit made a profound impact on Jews both in Israel and the Diaspora. In what has become an iconic image, John Paul II placed a writ-ten prayer in a crevice of the Western Wall. Th e short, typed prayer with an offi cial seal, read: “God of our fathers, you chose Abraham and his descendants to bring your Name to the Nations. We are deeply saddened by the behavior of those who in the course of history have caused these children of yours to suff er, and asking Your forgiveness we wish to commit ourselves to genuine brotherhood with the people of the Covenant.” Pope Benedict XVI’s moving visit to Auschwitz in 2006 is signifi -cant, not least because of his German nationality.
Th e Protestant churches, although equally vociferous in their condemnation of anti-Semitism, present a greater variety of views toward Israel, which also have an impact on Jews in the Diaspora. For example, Christian Zionists, including fun-damentalists and evangelical movements associated with the International Chris-tian Embassy, believe God is working through Zionism to fulfi ll biblical prophecy and usher in the messianic age. From the 18th century, a steadily growing minority of Protestants in Europe and America argued that a Jewish “restoration” in the Holy Land would accompany the creation of Christian nation states elsewhere, fulfi lling one of the “dispensations” leading to the millenial redemption prophesied in the Old and New Testaments.
On the other hand, the restoration of a Jewish state in the Land of Israel and a national renaissance have severely undermined the age-old Christian claim that the “wandering Jew” is divinely doomed to eternal exile and suff ering. Th is view has
On the other hand, the restoration of a Jewish state in the Land of Israel and a national renaissance have severely undermined the age-old Christian claim that the “wandering Jew” is divinely doomed to eternal exile and suff ering. Th is view has