YEHEZKEL LANDAU
He came to the Holy Land as a pilgrim, a man of prayer, to bring a message of peace. Earlier in the Jubilee Year 2000, he had identified with Abraham’s journey from Ur of the Chaldeans to the land then called Canaan. Afterwards he traveled to Mount Sinai to identify with Moses’ journey through the wilderness with the Israelites. At the spot where the Torah was revealed, he affirmed the Ten Commandments as essential for reconsecrating private and public morality in our time. And then, on the first leg of his Holy Land pilgrimage, he stood atop Mount Nebo to view the Promised Land from Moses’ final resting place.
As he flew into Ben Gurion Airport on March 21, 2000, John Paul II was making his 91st international trip as pope. For many, this was the journey, par excellence, of his long and remarkable pontificate. For Jews, especially Israeli Jews, the papal visit was a watershed in the history of our relations with Christianity, and with Catholicism in particular. For all of humanity, it was, I believe, a metahistorical event in which the combination of person, place, and time produced a kairos moment transcending political divisions and offering a glimpse of true holiness. For Jews and Muslims locked in mortal combat over Israel/Palestine, the humble witness of this frail pilgrim pope demonstrated the potential of Christians to be peacemakers, which is to be, in the spirit of the Beatitudes, true “children of God.” In his words and deeds along his route, this pope sought, on behalf of Christians everywhere, to make amends for two millennia of persecution toward both Jews and Muslims, the elder and younger siblings in the Abrahamic family of faith.
For Christian-Jewish relations, the pontiff’s Holy Land pilgrimage broke new ground, both theologically and politically. To fully understand its impact on both levels, some historical context is needed. But first I offer a vignette from my own life journey. The context for this episode, my only direct encounter with the pope, is my peacebuilding work in the Holy Land over the past twenty-six years. In 1991, shortly after the Gulf War—when I was a reserve soldier serving with my Israeli army unit at Sha’arei Tzedek Hospital in Jerusalem, simulating with the medical staff the intake of hundreds of chemical warfare victims—I attended an interfaith conference in Italy convened by the World Conference on Religion and Peace. The gathering focused on peacebuilding in the Middle East. On July 4, the conference participants were bused from Castel Gandolfo, outside Rome, to the Vatican for an audience with John Paul II. In his prepared remarks before our group, the pontiff expressed his support for our religiously motivated peacemaking efforts.
After his speech, the pope greeted each member of our group. When I was introduced to him by name, with the geographic coordinate “from Jerusalem,” I shook his hand and said to him, “Shalom! I hope you grace us with your presence soon.” He simply nodded and said nothing in response. Almost nine years later, I was privileged to be in Jerusalem as the pope traversed the land, as Abraham had done, spreading his message of justice, love, and reconciliation and touching the hearts of all who watched and listened in amazement. I recall standing on a rooftop in East Jerusalem, watching the pope’s motorcade wind its way through the streets of the city and eventually pass the spot where I stood in order to get to the apostolic delegate’s home on the Mount of Olives, where the pontiff was staying. Later in the week I was in the audience at an interfaith event at the Notre Dame Center. This was the one event during the papal visit that deteriorated into political rancor and disarray. (More on that unfortunate incident below.) Given the risks and potential land mines that beset the pope’s journey, the fact that only one event turned sour underscored the generally positive, indeed inspirational, nature of his extraordinary pilgrimage.
In the Middle East, memory is both a blessing and a curse. For the Arab Muslims, the Crusades happened yesterday. Israeli Jews, not only Holocaust survivors, cannot forget two millennia of disdain, hatred, and murderous assaults by ostensibly faithful Christians, including popes. For any Jew, a visit to Rome evokes haunting memories: the Jewish ghetto and the Arch of Titus depicting the menorah from the Second Temple carried away as a spoil of war. For centuries, newly elected popes would stop at the Arch of Titus on their way to St. Peter’s Basilica for their coronation. At that spot, symbolizing the defeat and humiliation of the Jewish people, the new pope would receive a Torah scroll from a Jewish representative. He would then hand it back, saying, “I receive this book from you, but not your interpretation of it.” This custom reflected the supersessionist theology and the “teaching of contempt” that characterized Catholicism until the Second Vatican Council.
During the pontificate of John Paul II, so much has happened to transform that tragic history of persecution and suffering. Indeed, it is safe to say that this pope has done more than anyone else in history to advance the cause of Christian-Jewish reconciliation. His historic visits to the Rome synagogue and the Auschwitz death camp were but two of the landmark events of his tenure as pontiff. The establishment of formal diplomatic relations between the Holy See and the State of Israel, a revolutionary development awaited by Jews for years, would not have come about without the pope’s blessing and encouragement. In his meetings with Jewish leaders, in Rome and elsewhere, he reiterated his condemnation of anti-Semitism and his fraternal solidarity with Jews as “elder brothers.” And Jews knew that his words carried the authenticity of his life experience. His childhood friendships with Jews in Wadowice, Poland, helped him to later identify with the indescribable suffering of the Jewish people during the Shoah and with their yearning for freedom, dignity, and national renewal in a sovereign Jewish state.
By the time John Paul II came to Israel in March of 2000, much of the foundation for Catholic-Jewish rapprochement had already been laid. And yet Jews, especially in Israel, were still suspicious, wondering what his motives for visiting were. Partly this was because few Jews are aware of the spiritual and theological sea change that many church leaders have undergone in their relationships toward Jews and Judaism in the last half-century. This widespread ignorance made the pope’s symbolic pilgrimage all the more astounding to most Jews. To appreciate just how remarkable the papal visit was for Israelis, consider this: In arithmetic classes, Israeli Jewish schoolchildren are taught to make a small inverted T rather than a cross when adding numbers. (One of Christianity’s most sacred symbols evokes aversion in many Jews, given the long history of pogroms on Good Friday and following the enactment of passion plays.) Despite this common practice in Israeli schools, when the pope’s jubilee journey was covered on Israeli television, the Hebrew words for pilgrimage (aliyah leregel) included a small cross instead of the letter yod.
Most observers would agree that the historic turning point in Catholic-Jewish relations was the Nostra Aetate statement issued on October 28, 1965, by the Second Vatican Council. The council, convened originally by the beloved Pope John XXIII, extended over four years after its inaugural session on October 11, 1962. The document referring to the Jewish people was one of sixteen conciliar texts, and it bears the official title “Declaration on the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions.” After centuries of triumphalism, praying for the conversion of the “perfidious Jews” on Good Friday, the Roman Catholic Church changed its official stance. It still affirmed that it is “in duty bound to proclaim without fail Christ who is the way, the truth, and the life” (John 1:6), that in Christ “God reconciled all things to himself [and so] people find the fullness of their religious life” in Christianity, and that the church “believes that Christ who is our peace has through his cross reconciled Jews and Gentiles and made them one in himself.” Yet, together with this classical formulation of Christian faith, the council was able to detoxify the most poisonous element in Jewish-Christian relations over the centuries: the accusation that the Jews were guilty of crucifying Christ and were rejected and punished by God for this cosmic crime of deicide. Nostra Aetate (the first two words in the Latin version) repudiated this heinous libel once and for all. While it does refer generally to “other religions” in a positive light and states that “the Church looks with esteem” upon Muslims in particular, the declaration is best remembered for its revolutionary statements about the Jews:1
As holy Scripture testifies, Jerusalem did not recognize the time of her visitation (cf. Luke 19:44), nor did Jews in large number accept the Gospel; indeed, not a few opposed the spreading of it (cf. Rom 11:28). Nevertheless, according to the Apostle, the Jews still remain most dear to God because of their fathers, for He does not repent of the gifts He makes nor of the calls He issues (cf. Rom 11:28–29). …
True, authorities of the Jews and those who followed their lead pressed for the death of Christ (cf. John 19:6); still, what happened in His passion cannot be blamed upon all the Jews then living without distinction, nor upon the Jews of today. Although the Church is the new people of God, the Jews should not be presented as repudiated or cursed by God, as if such views followed from the holy Scriptures. All should take pains, then, lest in catechetical instruction and in the preaching of God’s Word they teach anything out of harmony with the truth of the gospel and the spirit of Christ.
The Church repudiates all persecutions against any man. Moreover, mindful of her common patrimony with the Jews, and motivated by the gospel’s spiritual love and by no political considerations, she deplores the hatred, persecutions, and displays of anti-Semitism directed against the Jews at any time and from any source [emphasis added].2
These statements merit some analysis, especially in light of subsequent events. (The recent controversy over Mel Gibson’s film The Passion of the Christ, for example, serves to underscore how sensitive these issues are, and how Jewish-Christian relations are still adversely affected by the demonization of Jews by Christians over many centuries.) Why the explicit denial of any “political considerations” as a factor in condemning anti-Semitism? Why, instead, the affirmation of a single justification for this theological transformation: “the gospel’s spiritual love”? To understand this argument, we need to examine the speech delivered to the participants in Vatican II by Cardinal Augustin Bea, SJ. Cardinal Bea, then president of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity, was the person most responsible for getting the Nostra Aetate text adopted. He was commissioned personally for this assignment by Pope John XXIII. In order to overcome opposition to the document as it was being considered, Bea delivered a speech in defense of the new theological stance being promulgated. Here are excerpts from his remarks, part of the “oral tradition” accompanying the Nostra Aetate text:3
The decree [on the Jews] is very brief, but the material treated in it is not easy. Let us enter immediately into the heart of it and tell what we are talking about. Or rather, since it is so easy to understand it wrongly, before all else let us say what we are not talking about. There is no national or political question here. Especially is there no question of acknowledging the State of Israel on the part of the Holy See. … There is only treatment of a purely religious question. …
There are those who object: Did not the princes of this people, with the people in agreement, condemn and crucify the innocent Christ, the Lord? Did they not “clamor”: “Let his blood be upon us and upon our children” (Matt. 27:25)? Did not Christ himself speak most severely about Jews and their punishment?
I reply simply and briefly: It is true that Christ spoke severely, but only with the intention that the people might be converted and might “recognize the time of its visitation” (Luke 19:42–49). But even as he is dying on the cross he prays: “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).
Wherefore, since the Lord emphasized before the burial of Lazarus, speaking to the Father: “I know that thou always hearest me” (John 11:42), it is wrong to say that his prayer to the Father was not heard and that God has not only not forgiven the fault of his chosen people but that he has rejected them. …
The point, therefore, is not in any way to call into doubt—as is sometimes falsely asserted—the events which are narrated in the Gospels about Christ’s consciousness of his dignity and divine nature, or about the manner in which the innocent Lord was unjustly condemned. Rather that, with these things kept fully in mind, it is still possible and necessary to imitate the gentle charity of Christ the Lord and his Apostles with which they excused their persecutors.
Bea then asked his colleagues: “But why is it so necessary precisely today to recall these things?” (italics in the original text). He answered that the “propaganda” against the Jews that was spread by the Nazis needed to be rooted out from the minds of Catholics and replaced by the truth of Christianity. He condemned National Socialism’s “particularly violent and criminal form” of anti-Semitism, “which through hatred for the Jews committed frightful crimes, extirpating several millions of Jewish people. …” And he argued for the application of Christian love and forgiveness: “If Christ the Lord and the Apostles who personally experienced the sorrows of the crucifixion embraced their very persecutors with an ardent charity, how much more must we be motivated by the same charity?”4 We see here how Bea’s thinking informed the text of Nostra Aetate.
In his speech, Bea declared that “the Jews of our times can hardly be accused of the crimes committed against Christ, so far removed are they from those deeds. Actually, even in the time of Christ, the majority of the chosen people did not cooperate with the leaders of the people in condemning Christ.”5 Bea combined two arguments: the Jews as a whole, then and now, are not culpable for the crucifixion, and those who were guilty, at that time, have been forgiven by God, both the Father and the Son. Consequently, he concludes his remarks by stressing that, for the council, what should be “simply decisive” is “the example of burning charity of the Lord himself on the cross praying ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing.’ This is the example to be imitated by the Church, the bride of Christ. This is the road to be followed by her. This is what the schema proposed by us intends to foster and promote.”6
From Bea’s speech, we get a clearer idea of the theological rationale behind Nostra Aetate’s declaration exculpating the Jews from the deicide accusation. And what of the “political considerations” that might otherwise be imputed to the drafters of this historic conciliar document? We saw above that Bea disavowed any recognition of the State of Israel by the Holy See. (That watershed in 1993 was due largely to John Paul II’s leadership.) Toward the end of his speech, Bea returned to this thorny subject of statehood and said: “Lastly: since we are here treating a merely religious question, there is obviously no danger that the Council will get entangled in those difficult questions regarding the relations between the Arab nations and the State of Israel, or regarding so-called Zionism.”7
For most Jews, Judaism and Zionism are so intertwined in their self-understanding that it is impossible to separate the two. The tendency of many Christians, including Catholics, to make that distinction (based on their own tradition of separating God and Caesar) has caused much misunderstanding and ill will in Jewish-Christian relations in recent decades—at least until the Holy See recognized the State of Israel. The political and theological considerations are interrelated, and always were, despite Bea’s rhetorical dichotomy.
To fully appreciate the importance of Pope John Paul II’s jubilee pilgrimage to Israel/Palestine in 2000, we need, first of all, to recall the two millennia of Christian persecution of Jews and contempt for Judaism. In this light, Cardinal Bea’s plea to his colleagues to forgive the Jews as Christ and the Apostles did—for a crime they did not even commit (since it was the Romans who crucified Jesus)—sounds absurd and outrageous to Jewish ears. But this is as far as the Church was ready to go in 1965.
The years following were characterized by further movement away from the notion that the Jews needed to be forgiven, as a gesture of “Christian charity,” for anything they might have done. One can cite, as one of many benchmarks, the 1985 speech delivered by Cardinal Johannes Willebrands, who worked under Cardinal Bea at Vatican II and then succeeded him as head of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity. Cardinal Willebrands’s presentation at Westminster Cathedral in London was, in fact, the Cardinal Bea Memorial Lecture for that year. In his speech,8 Willebrands reviewed the progress made in Christian-Jewish relations in the twenty years since Nostra Aetate. He noted that “a certain amount of trust has been generated” on the Jewish side, and that “some, if not all, barriers have been torn down.” Regarding the Christian side, he said that “we in the Church have become, or are becoming, aware of our historical and our theological responsibilities toward our elder brother, grounded in the link the Council spoke about.”
The cardinal stressed the common challenge of combating famine, oppression, and the plight of refugees worldwide. He said that “Jews and Christians, right across the board, are called in the name of their common biblical heritage to stand up and do something together.” He understood that such joint action would bring to the surface some underlying tensions in the Christian-Jewish relationship:
I am not blind to the issues such a decision will raise, or has already raised. The main issue also becomes, once the twenty years of first encounters have elapsed, one of the main challenges we have to face—perhaps the greatest. It thus becomes also a significant part of our task for the future. I refer to the asymmetry between our Catholic and Jewish communities or, better still, between Church and Judaism. The Church is a Church, a worldwide religious community orientated mainly to the glory of God and the ministry of salvation of those called to her bosom. It has, as such, no particular ethnic or cultural identity; every man and woman from any background should feel at home with her. Judaism is a very different matter. While defined by some as an instrument of redemption, it is at the same time, and almost in the same breath, a people with a definite ethnicity, a culture, with an intrinsic reference to a land and a State. These differences should by now be obvious, but it is an open question whether we are on each side well enough aware of all the implications thereof. It means, at the very least, that agendas do not always coincide, priorities are not necessarily the same and concerns can go very different ways.9
These are sound observations. They were confirmed later when Jews and Catholics found themselves on different sides of painful controversies, such as the one that arose over the Carmelite convent at Auschwitz or the mutual misunderstandings around the elevation to sainthood of the Jewish Carmelite nun Edith Stein/Teresa Benedicta. At another point in Willebrands’s speech, he asserted:
Jewish-Christian relations are an unending affair, as are love and brotherhood, but also (regrettably) hatred and enmity. The main point is to change the fundamental orientation, from hatred to love, from enmity to brotherhood. It is not a question only of deploying documents, or of particular actions, however highly placed those who act happen to be. It is a question of people, men and women of flesh and blood. Still more, it is a question of hearts.10
This statement surely pertains to the pope’s jubilee pilgrimage to the Holy Land: it was obviously a media event with the pope as the central celebrity, and as such it was a public witness on a global stage. But it was, above all, a witness that touched and moved hearts, millions if not billions of human hearts. Love and brotherhood were not just proclaimed; they were embodied in a man of flesh and blood whose flesh was old and weak, but whose spirit was strong and vibrant and radiated compassion for all.
At the Yad Vashem Holocaust Memorial Museum, this frail and elderly pontiff stood next to a youthful and vigorous Israeli prime minister, Ehud Barak, a military commando and commander turned statesman. What a role reversal that iconographic image was, in contrast to the familiar juxtaposition of two female characters representing a feeble, blindfolded Synagogue alongside the Church triumphant. But that visual anomaly at Yad Vashem, which was not lost on Israeli Jews,11 was reinforced by the genuineness of the pope’s solidarity with Jewish suffering. That heartfelt solidarity was evidenced in his words and even more by the affection he displayed toward his survivor friends from Wadowice, who were present for this ceremonial event. One of them was Edith Tzirer, who was liberated from a concentration camp in January 1945, almost paralyzed by tuberculosis and other afflictions. Karol Wojtyla, the present pope, was then a seminarian when he met young Edith and gave her food and drink. He then carried her for almost two miles, from the camp to the local railroad station. Alter regaining her health, Edith later moved to Israel. Aside from this very moving personal dimension, the event at Yad Vashem was laden with deep symbolic meaning, both political and religious—and these two dimensions could not be separated. The two men were the recognized leaders of two communities of faith represented by two sovereign entities, the State of Israel and the Holy See. The agreement establishing diplomatic relations between them, fostered by John Paul II, had put their relations on an unprecedented footing. Ehud Barak, whose grandparents perished at Dachau, represented a Jewish people that had survived genocide, had established its own flourishing state, and was now able to host the Bishop of Rome from a position of strength and pride. It was the ceremony at Yad Vashem, more than any other event during the papal pilgrimage, that symbolized this new, healthier relationship between Jews and Catholics. And it was that historic transformation of power relations, identities, and shared memories that allowed Prime Minister Barak to declare that the Jewish people has a friend in the Vatican.
Despite appeals from other Jews, Barak did not berate his guest for failing to issue an outright apology for the Church’s actions during the Shoah, including the reticence of Pope Pius XII. Nor did Barak lament the limited access granted to the Vatican archives from that period. Barak understood that magnanimity and fraternal solidarity were the qualities to exhibit on that extraordinary occasion. He praised the Righteous Gentiles who had risked their lives to save Jews, and among them he counted John Paul II. “You have done more than anyone to apply the Church’s historic change toward the Jewish people, a change begun by the good Pope John XXIII.” Barak called the pope’s visit to Yad Vashem “the climax of this historic journey of healing.”
The spiritual message of the moment was deepened by John Paul II’s expression of deep sadness for the suffering Jews have experienced at the hands of Christians throughout history. In his address he acknowledged that silence spoke more powerfully than words in the face of such horrors and traumatic memories. And those memories, he declared, serve a purpose looking toward the future: “to ensure that never again will evil prevail, as it did for the millions of innocent victims of Nazism. … Jews and Christians share an immense spiritual patrimony, flowing from God’s self-revelation. Our religious teachings and our spiritual experience demand that we overcome evil with good.” The psalmist, in describing the person who savors life, exhorts: “Depart from evil and do good; seek peace, and pursue it” (Ps. 34:15). The good that John Paul II did on his Holy Land trip, with his fervent appeals for peace and justice, served to combat the evils of prejudice, hatred, and war.
The culmination of his six-day sojourn among us, at least in the eyes of Jews, came with his visit to the Western Wall, in Hebrew the Kotel Ha-Ma’aravi. Rabbi Michael Melchior, representing the Israeli Government as Minister for Diaspora Affairs, welcomed the pope to that sacred site and presented to him an ornate Bible as a personal gift. When the pontiff shuffled slowly toward those immense stones, placed his prayer of contrition inside a crack in the wall, and remained there to offer his solitary confession before God at the spot that is most holy to our people, Jews everywhere were stunned by this simple yet profound gesture. Ironically, the prayer that he left in the Kotel was the same one uttered just days before as part of a litany of penitential confession in St. Peter’s Basilica:
God of our fathers,
You chose Abraham and his descendants
to bring your Name to the Nations;
we are deeply saddened
by the behaviour of those
who in the course of history
have caused these children of yours to suffer
and asking your forgiveness
we wish to commit ourselves
to genuine brotherhood
with the people of the Covenant.
Some Jews had complained, when this prayer was read out at St. Peter’s, that it was not explicit enough in specifying the crimes committed by Christians against Jews or in offering an explicit apology. But the same words took on their true resonance and power when they were brought from Rome to Jerusalem, to be placed by the pope in the Wall which abuts the Temple Mount and the Holy of Holies. This was another iconographic moment, coming near the end of John Paul II’s pilgrimage, when person, place, and time converged in historic terms. Instead of gloating triumphantly over the loss of the ancient Temple at the hands of the Romans, instead of rubbing salt in the collective Jewish wound symbolized by the Arch of Titus, this pontiff came from Rome to the Western Wall to ask God’s forgiveness for the two millennia of harm that Christians have caused Jews. And through this act of sincere repentance, the pope embodied, in the most direct and powerful way possible, the new era of transformed relations between Christians and Jews. Instead of asking his fellow Catholics to forgive Jews for killing Christ, as Cardinal Bea and Nostra Aetate had done, John Paul II acknowledged that it is Christians who are in need of forgiveness for what they have perpetrated against Jews. Jews, in turn, should acknowledge with gratitude this metanoia (in Hebrew, teshuvah: moral transformation or repentance) on the part of the Church. Only then can we Jews join our Catholic partners in building a more blessed future for everyone, in the spirit of Cardinal Willebrands’s remarks in 1985.
Against the backdrop of this appreciative assessment of the pope’s pilgrimage, some words should be said about the Jewish-Christian-Muslim trialogue at the Notre Dame Center that turned into a fiasco. The pope was joined for this symbolic occasion by Israeli Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi Lau and Sheikh Tamimi representing the Palestinian Authority.
Rabbi Lau spoke first, delivering a positive message advocating peaceful relations among the religions. But he concluded with a statement of gratitude to the pope for recognizing that Jerusalem is the “eternal, undivided capital” of Israel and the Jewish people. By attributing this political stance to John Paul II, the rabbi sparked a vehement reaction from the Palestinians present. From my seat in the balcony, I could hear my Palestinian Catholic friend Afif Safieh, ambassador to the United Kingdom and the Holy See on behalf of the Palestinian Authority, shouting that the pope never said such a thing.
With the atmosphere now politicized and contentious, Sheikh Tamimi rose to speak. He seemed to speak extemporaneously, without reference to a written text, as he delivered a lengthy tirade in Arabic, scoring political points against Israel and earning the applause of the Palestinians present. The pope sat on the stage with his head in his hands while this belligerent speech was delivered. The moderator for this event, Rabbi Dr. Alon Goshen-Gottstein, tried to restore a sense of decorum and mutual respect by imploring people not to use that interreligious forum for partisan polemics. When John Paul II had his turn to speak, he read his prepared speech calling for harmony and cooperation among the three Abrahamic faith communities. In referring to the Holy City; he declared:
For all of us Jerusalem, as its name indicates, is the “City of Peace.” Perhaps no other place in the world communicates the sense of transcendence and divine election that we perceive in her stones and monuments, and in the witness of the three religions living side by side within her walls. Not everything has been or will be easy in this coexistence. But we must find in our respective religious traditions the wisdom and the superior motivation to ensure the triumph of mutual understanding and cordial respect.
The pope went on to invoke the Golden Rule as a common moral standard. But he urged his listeners to go beyond that guideline to embrace “true love of neighbor,” which is “based on the conviction that when we love our neighbor we are showing love for God, and when we hurt our neighbor we offend God.” Looking back at history, he said:
We are all aware of past misunderstandings and conflicts, and these still weigh heavily on relationships between Jews, Christians, and Muslims. We must do all we can to turn awareness of past offenses and sins into a firm resolve to build a new future in which there will be nothing but respectful and fruitful cooperation between us. The Catholic Church wishes to pursue a sincere and fruitful interreligious dialogue with the members of the Jewish faith and the followers of Islam. Such a dialogue is not an attempt to impose our views upon others. What it demands of all of us is that, holding to what we believe, we listen respectfully to one another, seek to discern all that is good and holy in each other’s teachings, and cooperate in supporting everything that favors mutual understanding and peace.
The Jewish, Christian, and Muslim children and young people present here are a sign of hope and an incentive for us. Each new generation is a divine gift to the world. If we pass on to them all that is noble and good in our traditions, they will make it blossom in more intense brotherhood and cooperation.
As the pope was uttering these inspiring words, the two youth choirs that were scheduled to sing together at the end of the program were locked in heated arguments in another room, stimulated by the politically oriented remarks of Rabbi Lau and Sheikh Tamimi. In fact, these teenagers only agreed to perform their choral piece on condition that their conductor say, publicly, how distressed they were by the conduct of the two religious leaders. By this time, Sheikh Tamimi had left the stage altogether, leaving the pope and the rabbi and an empty chair.
This event left a sour taste in the mouths of everyone present. Dr. Goshen-Gottstein, who directs the Jerusalem-based Elijah School for the Study of Wisdom in World Religions, drew this lesson from the experience: “In instances where religious personalities are involved in politically sensitive situations, events need to be more tightly controlled and orchestrated.” In assessing the overall impact of the pope’s visit, he said that it produced a positive change in many Israelis’ view of Christianity, especially the nonobservant Jewish majority. Most of the Orthodox Jewish community in Israel simply ignored the visit and excluded themselves from it.
The Notre Dame event reminded us that the ongoing political conflict between Israelis and Palestinians pollutes our spiritualities as Jews, Christians, and Muslims. This was true in 2000 and is even more the case today, as we all suffer the consequences of the horrific violence, death, and destruction that erupted just six months following the pope’s jubilee pilgrimage. During his Holy Land visit, the pope did his best to appear politically evenhanded as an apostle of peace and justice. His appearances in Bethlehem and the nearby Dheisheh refugee camp signaled his solidarity with the suffering and the aspirations of Palestinians. All along his route, both sides tried to enlist the pontiff as a champion of their own cause, but he resisted the temptation to take sides. He kept to his self-defined mission, moving about the land and offering its wounded inhabitants the balm of indiscriminate love.
There have been a few encouraging signs of interfaith cooperation since his visit, including the Alexandria Declaration issued in January 2002 by Jewish, Christian, and Muslim clerical leaders from Israel, Palestine, and Egypt, as well as the behind-the-scenes negotiations to resolve the forty-day siege of the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem in April–May of 2002. But so much more needs to be done by religious leaders and grassroots activists from the various faith communities, to help create a climate more conducive to political discussions between the two peoples.12 1n this context, where the primary antagonists are Jews and Muslims, Christians can and should act as mediating, reconciling agents of peace with justice. John Paul II demonstrated by his example in March 2000 that such a task is possible and beneficial to all, even if there is deeply ingrained hostility and resistance to change on all sides.
In assessing the impact of the pope’s visit, the editor of the Ha’aretz daily newspaper said: “Mercy has come to the State of Israel this week and has left banal politics to one side.” Avraham Burg, then Speaker of the Knesset (the Israeli parliament), wrote an article for the newspaper Ma’ariv in which he described how Israeli Jews were now developing a new understanding of Christianity. What had been viewed as “a religion that spilt blood with the Crusades and the Inquisition has become a religion in which its priests are raised to the level of Righteous among the Nations. It is not possible to understand the fall of totalitarian regimes in Latin America, in South Africa, and in Poland without thinking, in recognition, of the man who yesterday kissed the Western Wall.” The most widely read paper in Israel, Yediot Ahronot, printed a two-page photo of the pope in prayer before the Wall. Prime Minister Barak told the newspaper, “This historic visit has brought respect for Israel and contributed to shalom between Judaism and Christianity.”13
Four years later, we are trapped in an ongoing political impasse, with its attendant horrors and hardships for both Israelis and Palestinians. The pope still offers prayers for peace from Rome, and religious personalities around the world issue pleas for safeguarding the sanctity of human life and upholding the dignity of every human being.
The political toxicity threatens to overwhelm the spiritual dimension of our lives, in the Holy Land and, after September 11, 2001, everywhere else.
In the midst of political hostility and uncertainty, the relations between the government of Israel and the Christian communities of the land have turned sour during the course of 2003 and 2004. On April 7, 2004, a letter was sent to Israel’s ambassador to the United States, Daniel Ayalon, cosigned by the Most Reverend John H. Ricard, SSJ, Bishop of Pensacola-Tallahassee, Florida, and Chairman of the International Policy Committee of the Conference of Catholic Bishops, and by Cardinal William Keeler, Archbishop of Baltimore and Episcopal Moderator for Catholic-Jewish Relations. Alter referring to the holy festivals of Passover and Easter which overlapped again this year, and to the joy of the U.S. Catholic community in its experience of dialogue with the Jewish people, the two Catholic officials appealed to Ambassador Ayalon to help rectify some festering problems:
Against the background of this mutual affection, and in the light of the progress made in Catholic-Jewish relations and honest dialogue these past forty years, we are dismayed at the deterioration of relations between your government and the Catholic Church in Israel and the territories under Israel’s control. The growing problem of the denial of visas [for church workers and clerics] or indefinite delay in their issuance, the recent cases of mistreatment of clergy and religious awaiting visa renewal, difficulties over taxation, including those of our own Catholic Relief Services, and the suspension of negotiations on treaties regarding fiscal matters and other issues have created the most difficult situation in living memory for the Church in the Holy Land.
In December 1993, we celebrated, with your predecessor, the signing of the Fundamental Agreement [between the Holy See and the government of Israel], which is so important, not just for the Church and the government of Israel, but for freedom and pluralism within Israeli society as a whole. Regrettably, as the agreement’s tenth anniversary passed, provisions respecting the Church’s right to deploy its own personnel in Israel and for both parties to avoid “actions incompatible” with negotiating an agreement on fiscal matters, including taxation, were being routinely ignored. Despite repeated promises of remedies, the visa problem has grown still more serious, and, the requests of the Holy See notwithstanding, negotiations on a fiscal agreement have been suspended.
With all our affection for the Jewish people and without wavering in our commitment to the state of Israel, the many disappointments and the multiplication of problems are a cause of grave concern.14
Another letter was sent on April 13, 2004, this time to President George Bush from the Most Reverend Wilton D. Gregory, President of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops. Bishop Gregory called on the president to be more active in mediating a two-state political accommodation between Israelis and Palestinians. He cited Pope John Paul II’s appeal to all parties in the Middle East conflict to “renew dialogue without delay,” with the help of “the international community [which] cannot flee from its responsibilities … but must assume them courageously.” Also in his letter, Bishop Gregory shared his “grave concern about the deteriorating relations between the Israeli government and the Catholic Church in the Holy Land,” identifying the same problems specified in the letter to Ambassador Ayalon.15
It is clear from these two letters that the inspiration and promise in the pope’s jubilee pilgrimage are being challenged by new obstacles to improved relations. Jews and Catholics must join together to guarantee that our bonds of fraternal affection, nurtured by gestures of repentance and forgiveness, are not undermined by reactionary attitudes. Good will must be continually fostered, and honest dialogue on difficult issues must be facilitated by people who are sensitive to the apprehensions and concerns of all parties.
I hope and pray that the present difficulties can be overcome. Against the backdrop of history, they should be seen as temporary setbacks on the long and uphill path toward a blessed future. Just one hundred years ago, in 1904, a historic encounter took place between Theodore Herzl, the father of modern political Zionism, and Pope Pius X. Herzl went to the Vatican shortly before his death to secure the pope’s endorsement of his movement’s aim to reestablish Jewish sovereignty in the Holy Land. In his diary, Herzl recorded Pope Pius’s response:
The Jews have not recognized our Lord; therefore we cannot recognize the Jewish people. … We cannot prevent the Jews from going to Jerusalem, but we could never sanction it. If you come to Palestine and settle your people there, our churches and priests will be ready to baptize all of you.16
It took another sixty years, and the genocide of European Jewry, for this normative Catholic understanding to be replaced by “Christian charity” toward Jews on the theological level, divorced from international politics. It took yet another twenty-nine years until the Holy See, under Pope John Paul II’s direction, established diplomatic relations with the State of Israel, thereby repudiating Pius X’s anti-Zionist theology. And it was not until the media spectacular of John Paul II’s Jubilee Pilgrimage that the Church’s conditioned resistance to Jewish statehood was finally and unequivocally relegated to the history books.
It is now up to us, all Jews and Catholics who care about redeeming the past and ensuring a blessed future for the coming generations, to add our contributions to the betterment of relations between us. As an unforgettable milestone along this sacred path, Pope John Paul II’s Jubilee Pilgrimage to the Holy Land will stand out as a beacon of light to illumine our way.
1. From The Documents of Vatican II, ed. Walter M. Abbott, SJ (New York: The America Press, 1966), 660–68.
2. Ibid., p. 667.
3. “Catholics and Jews,” in Council Speeches of Vatican II, eds. Hans Küng, Yves Congar, OP, and Daniel O’Hanlon, SJ (New York/Glen Rock, NJ: Paulist Press, 1964), 254–61; here, edited from 254–58.
4. Ibid., 258–59.
5. Ibid., 259.
6. Ibid., 261.
7. Ibid.
8. “Christians and Jews: A New Vision,” in Vatican II Revisited by Those Who Were There, ed. Alberic Stacpoole (Minneapolis: Winston Press, 1986), 220–36.
9. Ibid., p. 233.
10. Ibid., pp. 229–30.
11. See Yossi Klein Halevi, “Zionism’s Gift,” The New Republic, April 10, 2000, p. 6.
12. See my research report Healing the Holy Land: Interreligious Peacebuilding in Israel/Palestine, Peaceworks #51 (Washington, DC: United States Institute of Peace, 2003).
13. All three newspaper quotes reported in “Israeli Press Moved Day After Pope’s Farewell,” ZENIT.org, dated March 27, 2000, at http://www.zenit.org/englisharchive/0003/ZE000327.html#item3.
14. Full letter is on the USCCB’s web site at http://www.nccbuscc.org/sdwp/international/ayalon2.htm.
15. Posted on the USCCB web site at http://www.usccb.org/sdwp/international/bush404.htm.
16. Quoted in Sergio I. Minerbi, The Vatican and Zionism: Conflict in the Holy Land 1895–1925 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1990), 100–101.
BENEDICT XVI
Cologne Synagogue, Friday, 19 August 2005
Distinguished Jewish Authorities, Ladies and Gentlemen,
Dear Brothers and Sisters,
I greet all those who have already been mentioned. Shalom lêchém!
It has been my deep desire, during my first Visit to Germany since my election as the Successor of the Apostle Peter, to meet the Jewish community of Cologne and the representatives of Judaism in Germany. By this Visit I would like to return in spirit to the meeting that took place in Mainz on 17 November 1980 between my venerable Predecessor Pope John Paul II, then making his first Visit to this Country, and members of the Central Jewish Committee in Germany and the Rabbinic Conference.
Today, too, I wish to reaffirm that I intend to continue with great vigour on the path towards improved relations and friendship with the Jewish People, following the decisive lead given by Pope John Paul II (cf. Address to the Delegation of the International Jewish Committee on Interreligious Consultations, 9 June 2005).
The Jewish community in Cologne can truly feel “at home” in this city. Cologne is, in fact, the oldest site of a Jewish community on German soil, dating back to the Colonia of Roman times, as we have come to know with precision.
The history of relations between the Jewish and Christian communities has been complex and often painful. There were blessed times when the two lived together peacefully, but there was also the expulsion of the Jews from Cologne in the year 1424.
And in the 20th century, in the darkest period of German and European history, an insane racist ideology, born of neo-paganism, gave rise to the attempt, planned and systematically carried out by the regime, to exterminate European Jewry. The result has passed into history as the Shoah.
The victims of this unspeakable and previously unimaginable crime amounted to 11,000 named individuals in Cologne alone; the real figure was surely much higher. The holiness of God was no longer recognized, and consequently, contempt was shown for the sacredness of human life.
This year, 2005, marks the 60th anniversary of the liberation of the Nazi concentration camps, in which millions of Jews—men, women and children—were put to death in the gas chambers and ovens.
I make my own the words written by my venerable Predecessor on the occasion of the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz and I too say: “I bow my head before all those who experienced this manifestation of the mysterium iniquitatis.” The terrible events of that time must “never cease to rouse consciences, to resolve conflicts, to inspire the building of peace” (Message for the Liberation of Auschwitz, 15 January 2005).
Together we must remember God and his wise plan for the world he created. As we read in the Book of Wisdom, he is the “lover of life” (11:26).
This year also marks the 40th anniversary of the promulgation of the Second Vatican Council’s Declaration Nostra Aetate, which opened up new prospects for Jewish-Christian relations in terms of dialogue and solidarity. This Declaration, in the fourth chapter, recalls the common roots and the immensely rich spiritual heritage that Jews and Christians share.
Both Jews and Christians recognize in Abraham their father in faith (cf. Gal 3:7; Rom 4:11ff.), and they look to the teachings of Moses and the prophets. Jewish spirituality, like its Christian counterpart, draws nourishment from the psalms. With St. Paul, Christians are convinced that “the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable” (Rom 11:29; cf. 9:6, 11; 11:1ff.). In considering the Jewish roots of Christianity (cf. Rom 11:16–24), my venerable Predecessor, quoting a statement by the German Bishops, affirmed that “whoever meets Jesus Christ meets Judaism” (Insegnamenti, Vol. III/2, 1980, p. 1272).
The conciliar Declaration Nostra Aetate therefore “deplores feelings of hatred, persecutions and demonstrations of anti-Semitism directed against the Jews at whatever time and by whomsoever” (n. 4). God created us all “in his image” (cf. Gn 1:27) and thus honoured us with a transcendent dignity. Before God, all men and women have the same dignity, whatever their nation, culture or religion.
Hence, the Declaration Nostra Aetate also speaks with great esteem of Muslims (cf. n. 3) and of the followers of other religions (cf. n. 2).
On the basis of our shared human dignity the Catholic Church “condemns as foreign to the mind of Christ any kind of discrimination whatsoever between people, or harassment of them, done by reason of race or colour, class or religion” (n. 5).
The Church is conscious of her duty to transmit this teaching, in her catechesis for young people and in every aspect of her life, to the younger generations which did not witness the terrible events that took place before and during the Second World War.
It is a particularly important task, since today, sadly, we are witnessing the rise of new signs of anti-Semitism and various forms of a general hostility towards foreigners. How can we fail to see in this a reason for concern and vigilance?
The Catholic Church is committed—I reaffirm this again today—to tolerance, respect, friendship and peace between all peoples, cultures and religions.
In the 40 years that have passed since the conciliar Declaration Nostra Aetate, much progress has been made, in Germany and throughout the world, towards better and closer relations between Jews and Christians. Alongside official relationships, due above all to cooperation between specialists in the biblical sciences, many friendships have been born.
In this regard, I would mention the various declarations by the German Episcopal Conference and the charitable work done by the “Society for Jewish-Christian Cooperation in Cologne,” which since 1945 have enabled the Jewish community to feel once again truly “at home” here in Cologne and to establish good relations with the Christian communities.
Yet much still remains to be done. We must come to know one another much more and much better.
Consequently, I would encourage sincere and trustful dialogue between Jews and Christians, for only in this way will it be possible to arrive at a shared interpretation of disputed historical questions, and, above all, to make progress towards a theological evaluation of the relationship between Judaism and Christianity.
This dialogue, if it is to be sincere, must not gloss over or underestimate the existing differences: in those areas in which, due to our profound convictions in faith, we diverge, and indeed, precisely in those areas, we need to show respect and love for one another.
Finally, our gaze should not only be directed to the past, but should also look forward to the tasks that await us today and tomorrow. Our rich common heritage and our fraternal and more trusting relations call upon us to join in giving an ever more harmonious witness and to work together on the practical level for the defence and promotion of human rights and the sacredness of human life, for family values, for social justice and for peace in the world.
The Decalogue (cf. Ex 20; Dt 5) is for us a shared legacy and commitment. The Ten Commandments are not a burden, but a signpost showing the path leading to a successful life.
This is particularly the case for the young people whom I am meeting in these days and who are so dear to me. My wish is that they may be able to recognize in the Decalogue our common foundation, a lamp for their steps, a light for their path (cf. Ps 119:105).
Adults have the responsibility of handing down to young people the torch of hope that God has given to Jews and to Christians, so that “never again” will the forces of evil come to power, and that future generations, with God’s help, may be able to build a more just and peaceful world, in which all people have equal rights and are equally at home.
I conclude with the words of Psalm 29, which express both a wish and a prayer: “May the Lord give strength to his people, may he bless his people with peace.”
May he hear our prayer!
December 30, 1993
The Holy See and the State of Israel,
Mindful of the singular character and universal significance of the Holy Land;
Aware of the unique nature of the relationship between the Catholic Church and the Jewish people, and of the historic process of reconciliation and growth in mutual understanding and friendship between Catholics and Jews;
Having decided on 29 July 1992 to establish a “Bilateral Permanent Working Commission” in order to study and define together issues of common interest, and in view of normalizing their relations;
Recognizing that the work of the aforementioned Commission has produced sufficient material for a first and Fundamental Agreement;
Realizing that such Agreement will provide a sound and lasting basis for the continued development of their present and future relations and for the furtherance of the Commission’s task,
Agree upon the following Articles:
• The State of Israel, recalling its Declaration of Independence, affirms its continuing commitment to uphold and observe the human right to freedom of religion and conscience, as set forth in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and in other international instruments to which it is a party.
• The Holy See, recalling the Declaration on Religious Freedom of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, “Dignitatis humanae,” affirms the Catholic Church’s commitment to uphold the human right to freedom of religion and conscience, as set forth in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and in other international instruments to which it is a party. The Holy See wishes to affirm as well the Catholic Church’s respect for other religions and their followers as solemnly stated by the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council in its Declaration on the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions, “Nostra aetate.”
• The Holy See and the State of Israel are committed to appropriate cooperation in combatting all forms of antisemitism and all kinds of racism and of religious intolerance, and in promoting mutual understanding among nations, tolerance among communities and respect for human life and dignity.
• The Holy See takes this occasion to reiterate its condemnation of hatred, persecution and all other manifestations of antisemitism directed against the Jewish people and individual Jews anywhere, at any time and by anyone. In particular, the Holy See deplores attacks on Jews and desecration of Jewish synagogues and cemeteries, acts which offend the memory of the victims of the Holocaust, especially when they occur in the same places which witnessed it.
• The Holy See and the State of Israel recognize that both are free in the exercise of their respective rights and powers, and commit themselves to respect this principle in their mutual relations and in their cooperation for the good of the people.
• The State of Israel recognizes the right of the Catholic Church to carry out its religious, moral, educational and charitable functions, and to have its own institutions, and to train, appoint and deploy its own personnel in the said institutions or for the said functions to these ends. The Church recognizes the right of the State to carry out its functions, such as promoting and protecting the welfare and the safety of the people. Both the State and the Church recognize the need for dialogue and cooperation in such matters as by their nature call for it.
• Concerning Catholic legal personality [of] canon law the Holy See and the State of Israel will negotiate on giving it full effect in Israeli law, following a report from a joint subcommission of experts.
• The State of Israel affirms its continuing commitment to maintain and respect the “Status quo” in the Christian Holy Places to which it applies and the respective rights of the Christian communities thereunder. The Holy See affirms the Catholic Church’s continuing commitment to respect the aforementioned “Status quo” and the said rights.
• The above shall apply notwithstanding an interpretation to the contrary of any Article in this Fundamental Agreement.
• The State of Israel agrees with the Holy See on the obligation of continuing respect for and protection of the character proper to Catholic sacred places, such as churches, monasteries, convents, cemeteries and their like.
• The State of Israel agrees with the Holy See on the continuing guarantee of the freedom of Catholic worship.
• The Holy See and the State of Israel recognize that both have an interest in favouring Christian pilgrimages to the Holy Land. Whenever the need for coordination arises, the proper agencies of the Church and of the State will consult and cooperate as required.
• The State of Israel and the Holy See express the hope that such pilgrimages will provide an occasion for better understanding between the pilgrims and the people and religions in Israel.
The Holy See and the State of Israel jointly reaffirm the right of the Catholic Church to establish, maintain and direct schools and institutes of study at all levels; this right being exercised in harmony with the rights of the State in the field of education.
The Holy See and the State of Israel recognize a common interest in promoting and encouraging cultural exchanges between Catholic institutions worldwide, and educational, cultural and research institutions in Israel, and in facilitating access to manuscripts, historical documents and similar source materials, in conformity with applicable laws and regulations.
The State of Israel recognizes that the right of the Catholic Church to freedom of expression in the carrying out of its functions is exercised also through the Church’s own communications media; this right being exercised in harmony with the rights of the State in the field of communications media.
The Holy See and the State of Israel jointly reaffirm the right of the Catholic Church to carry out its charitable functions through its health care and social welfare institutions, this right being exercised in harmony with the rights of the State in this field.
• The Holy See and the State of Israel jointly reaffirm the right of the Catholic Church to property.
• Without prejudice to rights relied upon by the Parties:
– The Holy See and the State of Israel will negotiate in good faith a comprehensive agreement, containing solutions acceptable to both Parties, on unclear, unsettled and disputed issues, concerning property, economic and fiscal matters relating to the Catholic Church generally, or to specific Catholic Communities or institutions.
– For the purpose of the said negotiations, the Permanent Bilateral Working Commission will appoint one or more bilateral subcommissions of experts to study the issues and make proposals.
– The Parties intend to commence the aforementioned negotiations within three months of entry into force of the present Agreement, and aim to reach agreement within two years from the beginning of the negotiations.
– During the period of these negotiations, actions incompatible with these commitments shall be avoided.
• The Holy See and the State of Israel declare their respective commitment to the promotion of the peaceful resolution of conflicts among States and nations, excluding violence and terror from international life.
• The Holy See, while maintaining in every case the right to exercise its moral and spiritual teaching-office, deems it opportune to recall that, owing to its own character, it is solemnly committed to remaining a stranger to all merely temporal conflicts, which principle applies specifically to disputed territories and unsettled borders.
The Holy See and the State of Israel will continue to negotiate in good faith in pursuance of the Agenda agreed upon in Jerusalem, on 15 July 1992, and confirmed at the Vatican, on 29 July 1992; likewise on issues arising from Articles of the present Agreement, as well as on other issues bilaterally agreed upon as objects of negotiation.
• In this Agreement the Parties use these terms in the following sense:
– The Catholic Church and the Church—including, inter alia, its Communities and institutions;
– Communities of the Catholic Church—meaning the Catholic religious entities considered by the Holy See as Churches sui juris and by the State of Israel as Recognized Religious Communities;
– The State of Israel and the State—including, inter alia, its authorities established by law.
• Notwithstanding the validity of this Agreement as between the Parties, and without detracting from the generality of any applicable rule of law with reference to treaties, the Parties agree that this Agreement does not prejudice rights and obligations arising from existing treaties between either Party and a State or States, which are known and in fact available to both Parties at the time of the signature of this Agreement.
• Upon signature of the present Fundamental Agreement and in preparation for the establishment of full diplomatic relations, the Holy See and the State of Israel exchange Special Representatives, whose rank and privileges are specified in an Additional Protocol.
• Following the entry into force and immediately upon the beginning of the implementation of the present Fundamental Agreement, the Holy See and the State of Israel will establish full diplomatic relations at the level of Apostolic Nunciature, on the part of the Holy See, and Embassy, on the part of the State of Israel.
This Agreement shall enter into force on the date of the latter notification of ratification by a Party.
Done in two original copies in the English and Hebrew languages, both texts being equally authentic. In case of divergency, the English text shall prevail.
Signed in Jerusalem, this thirtieth day of the month of December, in the year 1993, which corresponds to the sixteenth day of the month of Tevet, in the year 5754.
FOR THE GOVERNMENT OF THE STATE OF ISRAEL FOR THE HOLY SEE
• In relation to Art. 14(1) of the Fundamental Agreement, signed by the Holy See and the State of Israel, the “Special Representatives” shall have, respectively, the personal rank of Apostolic Nuncio and Ambassador.
• These Special Representatives shall enjoy all the rights, privileges and immunities granted to Heads of Diplomatic Missions under international law and common usage, on the basis of reciprocity.
• The Special Representative of the State of Israel to the Holy See, while residing in Italy, shall enjoy all the rights, privileges and immunities defined by Art. 12 of the Treaty of 1929 between the Holy See and Italy, regarding Envoys of Foreign Governments to the Holy See residing in Italy. The rights, privileges and immunities extended to the personnel of a Diplomatic Mission shall likewise be granted to the personnel of the Israeli Special Representative’s Mission. According to an established custom, neither the Special Representative, nor the official members of his Mission, can at the same time be members of Israel’s Diplomatic Mission to Italy.
• The Special Representative of the Holy See to the State of Israel may at the same time exercise other representative functions of the Holy See and be accredited to other States. He and the personnel of his Mission shall enjoy all the rights, privileges and immunities granted by Israel to Diplomatic Agents and Missions.
• The names, rank and functions of the Special Representatives will appear, in an appropriate way, in the official lists of Foreign Missions accredited to each Party.
Signed in Jerusalem, this thirtieth day of the month of December, in the year 1993, which corresponds to the sixteenth day of the month of Tevet, in the year 5754.