Originally published on Katnut D'Katnut (Feb 3, 2026). Reprinted by author's permission.
Introduction: The Persistence of Unresolved Questions
It is sometimes suggested, particularly by self-appointed "experts" in Jewish-Christian relations, that the Catholic Church has definitively resolved all questions concerning the validity of the Mosaic covenant and the place of Torah observance for Jews within the Church. Such confidence is unwarranted. While the Church has made decisive progress in rejecting anti-Judaism and articulating the permanence of God's election of Israel, she has not issued definitive rulings on several crucial questions relating specifically to Jewish believers in Christ.
This lack of final determination is not a weakness but a sign of theological seriousness. As Cardinal Avery Dulles noted shortly before his death in 2008, the Second Vatican Council deliberately refrained from settling certain foundational issues, including whether the Old Covenant remains in force, how it relates to the New Covenant, and whether Jews who embrace Christianity may continue to observe Jewish covenantal practices. These questions remain open to theological investigation, discernment, and development, undertaken for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven, not factional victory. This is a revision and further expansion on a blog post I wrote in 2010.
The persistence of these unresolved questions reflects the lived reality of Jewish believers in Christ far more than abstract theological hesitation. Hebrew Catholics often encounter contradictory expectations: on the one hand, encouragement to embrace baptism fully; on the other, an unspoken assumption that fidelity to Christ requires the quiet abandonment of Jewish covenantal life. This tension can produce confusion, isolation, or the sense of inhabiting a theological no-man's-land.
Acknowledging that the Church has not yet closed these questions is therefore pastorally liberating. It allows space for accompaniment rather than suspicion, for formation rather than prohibition, and for obedience lived in trust rather than conformity enforced by fear. Pastoral wisdom here lies not in premature resolution, but in patient discernment that honours conscience, intention, and ecclesial communion, recognising that the Holy Spirit often works through historically extended processes rather than instant clarity.
At a deeper theological level, the Church's refusal to issue definitive rulings in this area points to the complexity of covenantal theology itself. The relationship between Israel and the Church touches the deepest mysteries of election, incarnation, and eschatological fulfilment. Vatican II's deliberate restraint signals an awareness that simplistic binaries - revoked versus valid, old versus new, law versus grace - are inadequate to the biblical data and to the Church's own developing self-understanding.
From a Divine Will perspective, this openness is not indeterminacy but fidelity: God's salvific plan unfolds within history through gradual illumination, not abrupt conceptual closure. The Torah, the covenants, and Israel's vocation cannot be reduced to static categories without doing violence to the dynamic logic of revelation itself. By leaving these questions open to further theological penetration, the Church implicitly affirms that the mystery of Israel's place within the Body of Christ is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be reverently inhabited until the fullness of truth is revealed "in the Kingdom of Heaven," where promise and fulfilment will finally be seen as one.
Vatican II and the Deliberate Space for Theological Development
The conciliar and post-conciliar magisterium provides a framework, not a closure, for Jewish-Catholic theological reflection. Vatican II decisively rejected supersessionist contempt and affirmed the Jewish roots of Christian faith, but it intentionally left unresolved the precise theological articulation of covenantal continuity. This open space has since been enriched by the teachings of St John Paul II, Benedict XVI, Pope Francis, Cardinal Jean-Marie Lustiger, developments in biblical scholarship, and renewed reflection on St Paul's Jewish identity.
The doctrine of development, articulated classically by Cardinal Newman, is particularly relevant here. Catholic theology does not treat unresolved questions as doctrinal failures but as invitations to deeper penetration of the deposit of faith. The Church's understanding of Israel, covenant, and Torah has already undergone substantial development since the mid-twentieth century, and there is no theological reason to assume this process has reached its terminus.
Vatican II's decision to leave certain questions open was not an evasion of responsibility but an act of ecclesial prudence. The Council recognised that Jewish-Christian relations had been shaped for centuries by polemic, trauma, and theological distortion, and that genuine renewal would require time, trust, and careful formation. By offering a framework rather than a final synthesis, the Church created space for listening-both to the lived experience of Jewish believers in Christ and to the deeper currents of Scripture and Tradition that had long been obscured.
Pastoral ministry in this area must therefore resist the temptation to demand premature clarity or uniformity. Instead, it is called to accompany individuals and communities patiently, allowing questions of identity, observance, and vocation to mature within the life of the Church under the guidance of sound theology and episcopal oversight. Such patience is itself a pastoral virtue, reflecting confidence that truth unfolds organically when rooted in charity and obedience.
Vatican II's restraint reflects an implicit recognition that the mystery of Israel and the Church cannot be exhausted by juridical categories alone. Covenant continuity involves not only legal status but divine intention unfolding across history. Newman's doctrine of development is especially illuminating here: authentic doctrinal growth does not contradict earlier teaching but draws out its latent implications under new historical conditions. Since the Council, the Church has come to see more clearly that Israel's election, the Torah, and the promises made to the patriarchs belong intrinsically to the very fabric of Christian revelation.
From this vantage point, further development is not only possible but necessary, particularly as biblical scholarship recovers the Jewish context of Jesus, Paul, and the early Church. From a Divine Will perspective, this ongoing development reflects the way God educates His people over time, drawing them ever more deeply into the inner coherence of His saving plan. The openness preserved by Vatican II thus safeguards the Church's fidelity to the fullness of revelation, ensuring that continuity with Israel is not reduced to a slogan, but increasingly understood as a living, covenantal reality ordered toward eschatological fulfilment.
Cardinal Dulles and the Limits of Contemporary Consensus
Cardinal Avery Dulles, with intellectual honesty, acknowledged the unresolved nature of these questions. While his own conclusions reflected a cautious and often restrictive interpretation of Jewish observance within the Church, he explicitly recognised the legitimacy of continued debate. Disagreement with his conclusions does not place one outside Catholic orthodoxy; rather, it situates one within the very process of theological clarification he himself endorsed.
Some of Dulles's limitations stem from a broader issue within Western Catholic theology: a historically Gentile reading of St Paul that insufficiently accounts for his Jewish covenantal logic. Recent Pauline scholarship, grounded in Second Temple Judaism, has challenged inherited assumptions that equated Torah observance with legalism or salvific self-reliance. These developments are essential for reassessing questions of Jewish observance without collapsing them into the categories Paul himself was resisting.
Cardinal Dulles's willingness to acknowledge unresolved questions is itself instructive. In an ecclesial climate that often prizes tidy answers and rapid closure, his admission of limits models a form of theological humility that is pastorally vital. Jewish Catholics frequently encounter appeals to "what the Church teaches" as a way of foreclosing conversation, even when the magisterium has not in fact spoken definitively. Dulles's recognition that debate remains legitimate allows pastors and theologians to distinguish between doctrinal boundaries and prudential judgments.
This distinction is crucial for accompaniment: it enables Jewish believers in Christ to explore how their inherited practices might be lived faithfully within the Church without being accused of dissent simply for asking questions the Church herself has not finally resolved. In this sense, disagreement with Dulles's conclusions does not undermine ecclesial unity but participates in the very process of clarification he believed necessary.
The limitations of Dulles's position illustrate how interpretative frameworks shape doctrinal conclusions. His cautious stance reflects a long-standing tendency within Western Catholic theology to read St Paul primarily through post-Augustinian and post-Reformation categories, often detached from Paul's Second Temple Jewish context. When Torah observance is viewed almost exclusively through the lens of later debates about merit and justification, it is easily reduced to legalism or self-salvation-categories Paul himself does not employ when speaking of Jewish covenantal life.
Contemporary Pauline scholarship, attentive to covenantal nomism and Israel's vocation, has exposed the inadequacy of this reduction. From a Divine Will perspective, this recovery is particularly significant: it allows the Law to be seen not as a failed mechanism replaced by grace, but as a divinely ordered pedagogy now interiorised and fulfilled in Christ. Dulles's openness to debate, even where his conclusions remain constrained, thus marks a transitional moment - one in which the Church is being invited to reread Paul not against Israel, but from within Israel's story, as part of the ongoing development of doctrinal understanding.
The Irrevocability of the Covenant and Magisterial Clarification
The magisterium since Vatican II has spoken with increasing clarity regarding the permanence of Israel's covenantal vocation. St John Paul II repeatedly affirmed that the Old Covenant is "never revoked by God," a teaching echoed in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (121). This affirmation refers not to parallel paths of salvation, but to the enduring vocation and sanctifying role of Israel within salvation history.
Statements formerly included in catechetical documents affirming the enduring validity of the Mosaic covenant for Jews were not doctrinally erroneous, but pastorally misunderstood. Their subsequent removal reflects prudential concern, not theological retreat. Misuse of such statements to promote dual-covenant soteriology is rightly rejected; their proper interpretation situates Israel's covenant within the one salvific economy centred on Christ.
Clarity about the irrevocability of the covenant is essential for safeguarding both truth and charity within the Church. When catechetical language is misunderstood or simplified, it can give rise either to confusion among the faithful or to defensive reactions rooted in fear of doctrinal compromise. Pastors are therefore called to teach with precision: affirming unequivocally that salvation comes only through Christ, while also recognising that God's covenantal relationship with Israel has not been annulled or rendered meaningless.
For Jewish Catholics, this teaching provides a vital reassurance that their baptism does not negate their historical vocation but situates it within the fullness of grace. For Gentile Catholics, it corrects triumphalist assumptions and encourages humility before the mystery of God's fidelity. Prudential adjustments in catechetical wording, such as those undertaken by episcopal conferences, should thus be understood not as reversals of teaching but as efforts to prevent misinterpretation in contexts where theological nuance cannot easily be conveyed.
The Church's affirmation of the covenant's irrevocability reflects a more profound grasp of God's mode of acting in history. Divine election is not provisional, nor is it rescinded when fulfilled; rather, it is intensified and universalised in Christ. St John Paul II's insistence that the Old Covenant has never been revoked must therefore be read within the logic of Romans 9-11, where Israel's enduring role is presented as integral to God's saving plan.
From a Divine Will perspective, this permanence points to the fact that God's covenants are expressions of His eternal Fiat, unfolding across time without contradiction. The Mosaic covenant retains its sanctifying significance for Israel, not as an alternative path to salvation, but as a continuing locus of divine calling now illuminated by the Messiah. When properly understood, this teaching does not fragment the economy of salvation; rather, it reveals its depth, showing how Israel's vocation remains woven into the Church's very identity as the people gathered in Christ, awaiting together the final consummation of God's promises.
Anti-Judaism, Repentance, and Theological Responsibility
The Church has formally recognised that inherited anti-Judaism distorted Christian theology and pastoral practice. As Joseph Ratzinger acknowledged, insufficient resistance to the Shoah among Christians cannot be separated from theological habits that denigrated Judaism. This recognition imposes a responsibility upon contemporary theology: interpretations rooted in anti-Jewish premises may no longer be received uncritically, even when advanced by revered authorities.
This does not entail rejection of tradition, but purification of its reception. Where earlier theological conclusions relied upon flawed anthropological or covenantal assumptions, they must be re-examined in the light of Scripture, Tradition, and the Church's matured understanding of Israel.
The Church's recognition of the role of inherited anti-Judaism demands more than verbal acknowledgement; it calls for ongoing conversion in preaching, catechesis, and spiritual formation. Pastors and teachers must be attentive to how Scripture is presented, particularly when contrasting "Law" and "Gospel," lest old caricatures subtly reappear under new language. The danger today is not usually overt hostility toward Jews, but unconscious patterns of interpretation that portray Judaism as spiritually obsolete, morally inferior, or merely preparatory in a way that empties it of present significance.
Such patterns can wound Jewish hearers, confuse Jewish Catholics, and ultimately impoverish Christian self-understanding. Pastoral responsibility therefore includes the careful re-education of instincts as well as ideas, forming the faithful to read the Old Testament not as a discarded stage but as living Scripture, and to speak of Israel not as a problem to be solved but as a people still addressed by God.
The purification of theological reception represents an act of fidelity rather than rupture. Tradition is not a static archive but a living transmission, and its authentic reception requires discernment regarding the presuppositions that shaped earlier interpretations. Joseph Ratzinger's reflections make clear that theology cannot be abstracted from moral responsibility: ideas about Israel had consequences, and distorted covenantal thinking contributed to a diminished Christian resistance to historical evil.
From a Divine Will perspective, this recognition acquires added depth. If theology is meant to align human understanding with God's eternal Fiat, then any interpretative framework that implicitly denies God's faithfulness to Israel must be purified, for it contradicts the very character of the divine will revealed in Scripture. Re-examining earlier conclusions is not an act of judgement upon the past, but an act of obedience in the present - allowing revelation to be read more truthfully as the Church grows in historical awareness and spiritual maturity. In this way, repentance becomes not only moral but intellectual, and theology itself becomes a form of reparative fidelity ordered toward truth, justice, and reconciliation.
It must also be acknowledged, with sorrow rather than accusation, that much of the hard-won progress in Jewish-Catholic relations has suffered a grave setback in the period since 7 October 2023. In the wake of the renewed conflict in the Holy Land and Gaza, the Church's public response-often marked by moral equivocation, imprecise language, and a failure to distinguish legitimate concern for Palestinian suffering from the demonisation of Jews and Israelis-has created deep wounds.
This vacuum has allowed the re-emergence of antisemitic tropes across the ideological spectrum: from progressive "woke" frameworks that recast Jews as uniquely illegitimate, to reactionary forms of right-wing antisemitism, both of which have found disturbing echoes even within Catholic discourse. The influence of certain Middle Eastern ecclesial voices, combined with the perceived weakness and ambiguity of the Vatican's moral leadership, has left many Hebrew Catholics feeling exposed, unheard, and spiritually unsafe. For some, this has resulted in withdrawal from ecclesial life; for others, a painful departure from the Church altogether. The damage to Jewish-Catholic dialogue has been profound, and the trauma experienced by Jewish believers in Christ should not be minimised. Any authentic path forward will require not only renewed theological clarity, but repentance, courage, and a recovery of moral discernment grounded in truth, charity, and fidelity to the irrevocable covenantal dignity of the Jewish people.
Jewish Observance, Sanctification, and Misreadings of Paul
A persistent misunderstanding underlies much opposition to Torah observance among Jewish Catholics: the assumption that such observance implies a claim to salvation through the Law. In Judaism, however, mitzvot are not primarily about salvation but about obedience to the divine will and growth in holiness. Jews await salvation in the coming of the Messiah, not in circumcision or ritual observance as such.
This distinction is critical for reading St Paul correctly. Paul opposes the imposition of Jewish covenantal obligations upon Gentiles as necessary for salvation; he does not deny the sanctifying role of Torah within Israel's vocation. To collapse these categories is to misread both Judaism and Paul.
This misunderstanding often leads to unnecessary suspicion toward Jewish Catholics who seek to live aspects of Torah observance within the Church. Because many Gentile Christians have inherited a polemical framework in which "Law" is instinctively associated with self-salvation, any visible Jewish practice can be misinterpreted as a theological statement rather than a lived expression of covenantal identity.
Pastoral accompaniment must therefore begin with catechesis: clarifying that, within Judaism, mitzvot function as responses to God's prior election, not as mechanisms for earning redemption. When this distinction is grasped, the presence of Torah observance among Jewish Catholics can be approached with discernment rather than alarm, and with an appreciation for the difference between sanctification-growth in holiness within a covenant-and salvation, which remains the sheer gift of God in Christ.
At a deeper theological level, the recovery of this distinction is essential for an accurate reading of St Paul. Paul's argument in letters such as Galatians and Romans is not a rejection of the Torah's holiness or pedagogical value, but a defence of the universality of God's saving grace. His opposition is directed against the transformation of Jewish covenantal practices into salvific prerequisites for Gentiles, not against Israel's covenantal life as such.
From a Divine Will perspective, this nuance becomes even more significant: obedience to the Law, when detached from interior alignment with God's will, can indeed become sterile; yet when lived as a response to divine election and animated by grace, it serves sanctification and deepens communion. Torah observance within Israel's vocation thus remains ordered toward holiness, now illuminated by the Messiah. To read Paul as denying this is to impose later theological anxieties onto a first-century Jewish apostle whose concern was not to nullify Israel's calling, but to safeguard the gratuitous nature of salvation while honouring the diversity of covenantal participation within God's single redemptive plan.
Cardinal Lustiger and Embodied Theological Witness
Cardinal Jean-Marie Lustiger embodied a theological position more eloquently than any formal treatise. His insistence that baptism did not erase his Jewish identity, but fulfilled it, was not rhetorical but lived. His silence in response to Michael Wyschogrod's challenge may be interpreted as theological prudence rather than disagreement, reflecting awareness that the Church had not yet developed the categories necessary to receive such a position openly.
His funeral, incorporating both Catholic and Jewish elements, constituted a performative theological statement. It affirmed that Jewish identity and Catholic faith are not mutually exclusive realities when rightly understood. His reported pastoral guidance regarding circumcision-affirming its legitimacy for Jewish Catholics as identity, not salvation-aligns precisely with this vision.
Cardinal Lustiger's life offers a rare and instructive model of integration rather than resolution. He did not attempt to systematise his identity through abstract categories or public polemics; instead, he lived patiently within the tension, trusting the Church to grow into a fuller understanding in God's time. For Jewish Catholics today, this posture is profoundly instructive.
Lustiger demonstrates that fidelity to Christ need not be asserted through the renunciation of Jewish belonging, nor must Jewish continuity be defended through confrontation. His silence in response to Wyschogrod was therefore not evasion but discernment: a refusal to force theological clarity before the Church had developed the language, formation, and maturity to receive it. Pastoral accompaniment inspired by Lustiger's example will prioritise stability, obedience, and spiritual fruit over visibility or advocacy, recognising that embodied witness often speaks more truthfully than premature argument.
Lustiger's life can be read as a form of performed theology, in which identity is articulated sacramentally rather than polemically. His funeral rites, combining Catholic liturgy with Jewish prayer, were not a confusion of covenants but a revelation of their ordered convergence in the Messiah. This convergence does not dissolve Jewish identity into abstraction, nor does it relativise the Church's confession of Christ; rather, it manifests a mystery still unfolding within salvation history.
From a Divine Will perspective, Lustiger's witness suggests that covenantal identities are not erased by fulfilment but transfigured within it. His pastoral guidance concerning circumcision illustrates this principle with particular clarity: the same external act, once detached from claims of salvific necessity and lived within Christ, assumes a different theological meaning. It becomes an expression of filial obedience and covenantal continuity rather than juridical boundary. In this way, Lustiger stands as a living sign of eschatological harmony-one in which Israel's vocation and the Church's universality are not resolved by negation, but held together within the patient, faithful obedience of the Divine Fiat.
Divine Will and the Interiorisation of Covenant
From the perspective of the Divine Will, as articulated by Luisa Piccarreta, covenantal fidelity reaches its deepest fulfilment through interior participation in God's eternal Fiat. Torah observance, lived within Christ and the Church, is not a regression to pre-Christian religiosity but a messianic transfiguration of Jewish life.
In this horizon, observance is no longer juridical boundary or salvific claim, but a grace-enabled cooperation in God's redemptive order. Human acts, including covenantal practices, are drawn into God's eternal act and become instruments of restoration rather than division.
From a practical pastoral perspective, the language of the Divine Will offers a way out of long-standing polarities that have troubled both Jewish and Catholic consciences. Many Jewish Catholics fear that continued observance will be misread as legalism, while others fear that abandoning inherited practices risks spiritual amnesia. Luisa Piccarreta's teaching reframes the issue decisively: the question is not whether one observes, but how one observes.
When acts are performed in the Divine Will, they are no longer self-contained religious performances but acts surrendered to God's own initiative. Pastoral guidance shaped by this insight will therefore emphasise interior intention, Eucharistic anchoring, and humility, helping the faithful discern whether an observance is fostering deeper charity, obedience, and peace. In this way, Torah practices can be lived without anxiety or defensiveness, not as assertions of identity over against the Church, but as acts of loving cooperation within her life.
The Divine Will reveals covenant not primarily as a legal structure but as participation in God's eternal action. In Luisa's writings, Jesus insists that to live in the Divine Will is to allow human acts to be absorbed into the one eternal Fiat that created, redeemed, and sanctifies all things. When Torah observance is lived in this mode, it undergoes an ontological transformation: it is no longer a boundary marker distinguishing Jew from Gentile, nor a preparatory sign awaiting fulfilment, but a redeemed human act participating in Christ's own obedience to the Father.
This interiorisation does not dissolve the particularity of Israel's covenantal life; rather, it perfects it by situating it within the universal economy of grace. From this perspective, mitzvot lived in Christ become instruments of restoration (tikkun), contributing-however humbly-to the healing of creation and the convergence of Israel and the nations within the one divine will. Thus, covenantal fidelity reaches its fullest expression not in abandonment or absolutisation, but in transfiguration: where Law and grace, identity and universality, history and eternity are harmonised within the eternal Fiat.
Conclusion: Patience, Fidelity, and Hope
Theological reflection on Jewish observance within the Church remains unfinished, and rightly so. Such questions touch the deepest mysteries of election, incarnation, and eschatological fulfilment. They cannot be resolved by polemic or haste, but only through fidelity, prayer, and patient development.
Hebrew Catholics, and institutions such as the Association of Hebrew Catholics, serve as signposts rather than solutions - witnesses to a future unity that does not erase difference but harmonises it in Christ. As Cardinal Lustiger inscribed on his tomb:
"I was born a Jew… Christian by faith and by baptism, I remained a Jew, as did the Apostles."
In this confession, Law and Gospel, Israel and the Church, promise and fulfilment converge-not by human design, but by the eternal Divine Will guiding history toward its consummation.
The unfinished nature of this theological reflection calls for a spirituality of patience rather than activism. Hebrew Catholics are not entrusted with resolving centuries of doctrinal tension or precipitating eschatological outcomes. Their vocation is more modest and more demanding: to live faithfully within the Church, rooted in sacramental life, obedient to legitimate authority, and attentive to the inheritance of Israel entrusted to them.
Institutions such as the Association of Hebrew Catholics play an important role precisely because they resist isolation and individualism, providing formation, stability, and accountability while avoiding the temptation to define themselves over against either Church or Synagogue. In an ecclesial culture often uneasy with ambiguity, such patient fidelity offers a quiet but necessary witness that genuine unity grows through lived holiness rather than ideological victory.
At a deeper theological level, this posture of hope and restraint reflects the very rhythm of God's saving action in history. Election, incarnation, and fulfilment unfold not through coercion or haste but through gradual convergence within the divine economy. From the perspective of the Divine Will, time itself becomes a place of obedience, where apparent delay serves maturation rather than frustration.
The convergence of Israel and the Church is thus not a problem to be solved but a mystery to be inhabited, one in which Law and Gospel are not opposed but harmonised within Christ. Cardinal Lustiger's epitaph captures this eschatological truth with profound simplicity: Jewish identity and Christian faith are not rival allegiances but dimensions of a single vocation transfigured in the Messiah. In the end, it is not human strategy but the eternal Fiatthat will bring history to its consummation, revealing how promise and fulfilment, Israel and the nations, were always held together in the one redemptive will of God.
