R.R. Reno is the editor of First Things magazine.
In early February, a meeting of a White House commission on religious liberty erupted in controversy when one of its members, Carrie Prejean Boller, declared, “Catholics do not embrace Zionism.” She also defended Candace Owens, one of several online influencers who say Catholicism in particular and Christianity more generally is inconsistent with support for the Jewish state.
In fact, the Catholic Church advances no specific teaching on Zionism. This agnosticism is not surprising. Jesus told Pontius Pilate: “My kingdom is not of this world.” Catholics must affirm a detailed and well-developed theology of the Church’s origin, order, rituals, and governance. But when it comes to the world’s mechanisms for governing, we’re free to support what we think best, given theological principles, moral considerations, and historical realities. For this reason, a Catholic can be a Zionist — or not — just as he can be a monarchist — or not.
I am a Catholic and a Zionist. But my position is not “Catholic Zionism.” Rather, it is plain-old Zionism: The Jewish people are justified in establishing a sovereign nation in the land of their ancestors.
Theodor Herzl, the founder of modern Zionism, argued that Jews must seek a place in which to constitute themselves as a sovereign nation. Only then would the Jewish people be able to ensure their survival, free from persecution. Herzl died in 1904. Forty years later, Hitler’s Final Solution would prove him right.
Christian culpability offers another reason to support Zionism. Yes, some heroic Christians spoke against antisemitism in the West. But the culture of the West was shaped by Christianity, which means its perversions stain our Christian heritage. On a number of occasions, Pope John Paul II apologized for the Church’s persecution of Jews. True repentance may require reparation. As a Catholic, my commitment to Zionism atones for the sins of my forefathers in the faith.
Along with other Christians, I believe that Jesus of Nazareth is the incarnate son of God. All things fall under his lordship. However, already with St. Paul, the followers of Jesus were confronted by the reality of Jewish unbelief, the rejection of the promised Messiah by his own people.
In his letter to the Romans, St. Paul struggles to grasp the meaning of this development. The material is dauntingly complex. But two principles emerge. The first concerns God’s covenant with Israel. St. Paul says, “The gifts and call of God are irrevocable.” The Jewish people remain part of God’s salvific plan for all humanity. The second principle is suggested rather than clearly defined: The Jewish rejection of Jesus as Messiah is somehow essential to the universal mission of the Church.
If we follow St. Paul’s two principles, a Christian has good reasons to accord special solicitude toward the Jewish people. They play a unique, divinely appointed role in salvation history. The fact that some evangelical Christians slot the present-day state of Israel into an implausibly detailed account of Christ’s return does not impugn the theologically sound presumption that God remains concerned about the fate of the Jewish people — and that we should be as well.
St. Paul’s two principles do not establish title to the Holy Land. However, I believe the presence of a Jewish state there is fitting for a simple reason: If God in his providence wishes to preserve the Jewish people in their own sovereign nation, it makes more sense that it would be in the biblical land of their origins than in Arizona or Tahiti.
The Catholic Church urges me to bring my political judgments into accord with moral principles. In affairs of state, the most important norm is peace. This norm strongly favors support for established states. (This is why, for most of her existence, the Catholic Church rejected revolution and required obedience to existing governments.) The state of Israel exists. Undermining its legitimacy and aiding those who seek its destruction is far more likely to lead to widespread violence and inhumanity than its continued existence, whatever one thinks of the circumstances of the nation’s founding or its present policies.
I have a final reason for being a Catholic who is a Zionist: I am a patriotic American. The state of Israel is my country’s best ally. If Germany could project power as effectively as Israel, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine would very likely never have happened. If Japan had a fraction of Israeli military prowess, our responsibilities in the western Pacific would be much lighter.
Put simply: A responsible American Catholic who accepts the burdens of history, reflects theologically, and weighs the demands of Catholic social doctrine will be a Zionist, however qualified with criticisms of Israeli policies, however nuanced by hopes for a two-state solution, however burdened by sadness over the suffering of Palestinians. Zionism is not a religious obligation; it is a consequence of thinking clearly.
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