IT IS much easier to condemn something if we think that we are not part of it. When it comes to anti-Semitism, churches have historically been part of the problem. Do we have the courage to admit that, in many ways, we still are?
Church leaders have rightly expressed horror at recent anti-Semitic violence in Britain (News, 15 May). Other faith groups have made similar statements. As Rabbi Lev Taylor put it last month, “When Finchley Reform Synagogue was threatened . . . their local community came to uplift them. Mosques, churches, and community centres. The Lebanese community brought doughnuts. . . These people don’t hate us: they stand with us.”
None the less, if responses from Christians are to carry weight, we must recognise that church teachings have for centuries played a major part in fuelling Jew-hate. The deep roots of Christian anti-Semitism are still bearing bad fruit today.
I spoke in a sermon last year of the need to support innocent people under attack, whatever their nationality or religion. Referring to suffering that I had witnessed in the West Bank, I made my opposition to Israeli occupation clear.
Shaking hands after the service, I was shocked when two people made anti-Semitic comments. One blamed “Jews” rather than Israeli authorities. The other talked about an unpleasant Jewish teacher whom she had known as a child. It took me a moment to work out why she thought this was connected to my sermon.
Another example that I could cite was someone making an anti-Semitic comment to a Jewish friend who accompanied me to church.
TO LEARN about prejudice, we need to put the voices of those affected in the centre. Attempts to understand anti-Semitism must begin by listening to Jews. As a non-Jew, I have been hesitant to write about this. There is a danger that this hesitation becomes an excuse for not speaking out about the reality: that churches are the context in which I have most often witnessed anti-Semitism.
Jesus’s Jewishness is, thankfully, discussed much more widely nowadays, but anti-Semitism continues to infect sermons and hymns.
Take the Good Samaritan. Like me, you have probably heard preachers say that the priest and the Levite failed to help because they feared ritual uncleanliness. Discussing this passage with Jews, I find that this almost never comes up. They say that the need to save life takes precedence. I am sure that most of these preachers do not intend to promote anti-Semitism, but they unwittingly perpetuate an image of Jews as ritualistic and rule-obsessed. Some prejudices could be overcome simply by listening to members of the group about whom we are talking.
As a university chaplain, I witness students of varied faiths having difficult, but fulfilling, conversations about each other’s beliefs and assumptions (Comment, 24 April). I fear that only a minority of churches readily engage in such dialogue.
One issue frequently mentioned by Jews in conversation with Christians is the much repeated — and harmfully inaccurate — claim that Jesus was crucified by “the Jews”.
The order to execute Jesus was given by the Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate. The situation is complicated by the Gospels’ emphasis on the guilt of Jewish leaders. But, as many biblical scholars point out, these were Jewish leaders who were collaborating with Rome. The High Priest held his position only with Roman approval. They were not representative of Jews as a whole.
To acknowledge that Jesus was killed by Roman imperial power is to recognise that he was a threat to the powerful. We cannot tackle anti-Semitism without engaging with complex issues of power, injustice, and structural sin.
ALONGSIDE recent anti-Semitic hate crimes, including the murders in Manchester and stabbings in London (News, 1 May), there have been arson attacks on Muslim places of worship in Blackburn and Peacehaven. A Sikh woman in Walsall was raped by an Islamophobe who mistook her for a Muslim. There are, sadly, many more examples. To oppose such outrages effectively means speaking out against them all.
Of course, some have an interest in narrowing the issues. Anti-Semites, ludicrously, blame all Jews for Israeli violence in Palestine. The mirror image of this bigoted claim is seen in the Israeli government’s attempt to portray anyone who speaks of genocide in Gaza — even the United Nations and Amnesty International — as anti-Semitic.
A commitment to the value and dignity of all people leads many to oppose anti-Semitism and Hamas for the same reason that they campaign against Israeli atrocities. None the less, I am alive to the increasingly urgent need for anti-war campaigners to speak out much more clearly against the anti-Semitic attitudes that are found among a vocal minority within movements for Palestinian rights.
I cannot conscientiously do this if I do not speak also about anti-Semitism in churches. Christians are right to stand in solidarity with Jews in resisting anti-Semitism. To do so effectively, we must — to quote a famous Jew — cast the plank out of our own eye.
Symon Hill is Christian Chaplain (Free Churches) at Aston University. His books include The Upside-Down Bible: What Jesus really said about money, sex and violence (Darton, Longman & Todd, 2015).