My love for the Jewish people has profoundly shaped my faith and understanding of justice. It is out of this love that I feel compelled to oppose Zionism—not the faithfulness of Judaism but the nationalist perversion that it represents.
At first, my love was theoretical, as I recognized that my own Christian faith was built upon Judaism. This was before I got to know Jewish people and learned about their current faith, practices and history.
My affinity for Jewish individuals compels me to point out Zionism’s origins are deeply entangled with Christian logic, born from supersessionist theology and colonial ambitions. These Christian frameworks positioned the Jewish return to the land of Palestine as a means to fulfill prophecy for Christian purposes, often disregarding the ethical imperatives of Jewish faith. Tragically, this nationalist distortion gained traction among Christians and Jews alike, often fueled by a misreading of scripture and a disregard for the ethical mandates of both faith traditions.
This convergence found an unlikely champion in Theodor Herzl, an atheistic Jew with no religious rationale for his position. Herzl popularized Zionism through pragmatic and nationalist arguments, focusing on Jewish self-determination and the establishment of a state to address rising antisemitism in Europe. Yet his vision, divorced from Judaism’s religious and ethical depth, laid the groundwork for a movement that often prioritizes power over justice.
The British had already colonized Palestine, so with the 1917 Balfour Declaration, they declared their intent to make it a home for the Jewish people. Then, in 1948, the Nakba began.
During this period, Arab Palestinians were either killed or removed from their land. I believe the Nakba continues today and includes all Palestinians.
The Palestinians that remain on their land are, at best, treated as second-class citizens. The occupation of Palestinian land and the systemic apartheid it imposes are at the root of the current conflict.
This occupation, which continually expands and encroaches upon or erases Palestinian lives, is a direct violation of the teachings of all Abrahamic faiths, particularly the sense of justice that is the cornerstone of Judaic thought. Without addressing this historic and ongoing reality, any discussion of the crisis in Palestine remains incomplete.
This perversion is deeply personal, not only as a Christian but as a parent. My wife and I named our son “Israel” to reflect our hope that his life will embody justice, mercy and faithfulness to God. It was inspired by the Shema: “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength” (Deuteronomy 6:4-5).
We wanted his name to connect him to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, not to the state of Israel or its militarized nationalism. To see the name Israel invoked to justify violence and oppression against Palestinians feels like a betrayal of all the name stands for.
Christian Zionism is a profound betrayal of the gospel. Jesus did not come to establish a kingdom through force or territorial claims.
He came to embody a revolution of love and justice. His refusal of the zealots’ path and his rejection of the sword reminds us that the way of Christ stands in stark contrast to the ideologies of domination that permeate our world today.
The prophetic tradition within Judaism calls its followers to a higher ethical standard. The Hanukkah menorah erected as a plea for a ceasefire, recently described and pictured in “Forward,” captures this prophetic spirit.
It is a symbol of hope amidst overwhelming darkness, an embodiment of light calling out against the devastation of Gaza. The menorah stands as a reminder of what the people of God are called to be: a light to the nations, not oppressors of their neighbors.
As people of faith, we are called to protest the injustices perpetrated in Gaza and beyond. To remain silent is to become complicit in the very acts of oppression that contradict the heart of God.
Even within Judaism, courageous voices challenge the conflation of Jewish identity with nationalism. Figures like Rabbi Brant Rosen and organizations like Jewish Voice for Peace remind us that Jewish values align with justice and peace, not the subjugation of others. These voices reflect the best of the Jewish prophetic tradition, urging accountability and calling for liberation for all people.
Jewish author, journalist and professor Peter Beinart comments that “Eighty percent of the people in Gaza are the families of refugees from people who were expelled or fled in fear during Israel’s creation.” He continues, “Palestinians are going to resist that because all people generally resist their lack of freedom.”
But, of course, this resistance has consistently been met with overwhelming force and more oppression. Unfortunately, Israel, with the near unquestionable backing of the U.S., has so much firepower that any violent rebellion from Palestinians will only produce more violent oppression.
My friend Morgan Guyton captured this truth beautifully from a Christian perspective: “The beast has all the bombs and all the dollars and all the TV cameras. The lamb has only love. And yet the lamb will win.” In the face of the overwhelming power of the empire, love and justice will ultimately prevail.
As Christians, we must resist theologies that justify violence and embrace those that align with the gospel’s demand for justice. Rev. Dr. Munther Isaac, a Palestinian Christian leader and pastor in Bethlehem, has called on the global church to recognize the humanity of Palestinians and to stand against theologies that enable their suffering. His words challenge us to see the gospel not as a tool of empire, but as a call to solidarity with the oppressed.
The Jewish high holy days, which ended last week, are a season of reflection and renewal, a time to recommit to the covenantal call to be a light to the nations. As Christians, may we use this as our opportunity to stand in solidarity with our Jewish siblings, not by endorsing nationalist distortions but by embracing the prophetic tradition that calls for justice and mercy.
May we, like Jacob, wrestle with God, refusing to let go until we are blessed with a vision of justice that reflects the heart of the divine. And may we strive, like the Israel of old, to live as a people who bear witness to the God of justice, mercy and peace.
May our love for our Jewish Messiah and his people cause us to reject Zionism and its attendant violence and colonialist expansion.
I long for a day when I can say my own son’s name again without cringing just a bit. As it is, I fear folks will confuse Israel in covenant with God with this colonialist, nationalist and horrifically violent nation-state.
I want people to picture the nation set apart for the sake of the nations whose witness points to God’s mercy, peace, justice, and, especially, love for one’s neighbors.
Scholar, minister, educator, and consultant deeply involved in community outreach and development. With a PhD from Southern Methodist University, he teaches religion and ethics and has served on staff in outreach roles at various churches across denominations.
