A week from today will mark the 60th anniversary of the promulgation of the shortest official document of the Second Vatican Council—and yet one of the most influential in terms of its impact on the church’s understanding of itself: “The Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions,” better known now by its Latin title, “Nostra Aetate.”
Promulgated on Oct. 28, 1965, near the close of the fourth and final session of Vatican II, it was approved by a vote of 2,221 to 88. By that point, there were enough journalists in Rome covering the council (and enough chatty bishops) that the day-to-day drafting of documents was covered in detail and involved more public drama than in the staid early days of the council. “Nostra Aetate” was no exception.
Just two days after the declaration’s release, the editors of America wrote that it “stands out as one of the greatest and most promising accomplishments of Vatican Council II. It marks a revolutionary departure in attitudes and practices that have deep and gnarled roots in world history.”
Cardinal Augustin Bea, the Jesuit head of the Secretariat on Christian Unity at the Vatican, had been recognized as one of the driving forces behind “Nostra Aetate” (“the foremost proponent of the position that the Council speak out on this subject…also a model of understanding, patience and balance,” wrote Bishop Robert Emmet Tracy of Baton Rouge in America at the time), and the magazine had closely followed his public utterances on this and other subjects since the council had begun in 1962. See, for example, this 1963 profile of Cardinal Bea by America associate editor Walter Abbott, S.J. (Yes, that Walter Abbott, the one who edited your copy of the documents of Vatican II).
While we tend to think of “Nostra Aetate” in terms of the relationship between Christians and the Jewish people—and a necessary reckoning with anti-Semitism for the church in the wake of the Holocaust—the final version treats the church’s relationship to all faiths; hence the official title. The document notes that all peoples (well, in the language of 1965, all men) “expect from the various religions answers to the unsolved riddles of the human condition, which today, even as in former times, deeply stir the hearts of men.” What follows are not the lyrics from a Talking Heads song:
What is man? What is the meaning, the aim of our life? What is moral good, what is sin? Whence suffering and what purpose does it serve? Which is the road to true happiness? What are death, judgment and retribution after death? What, finally, is that ultimate inexpressible mystery which encompasses our existence: whence do we come, and where are we going?
Hinduism is the first non-Christian faith tradition to be mentioned in the text, followed by Buddhism. Islam then gets its own section, which states that while “not a few quarrels and hostilities have arisen between Christians and Moslems, this sacred synod urges all to forget the past and to work sincerely for mutual understanding and to preserve as well as to promote together for the benefit of all mankind social justice and moral welfare, as well as peace and freedom.”
Only then does the document get to the fourth of its five sections: that on the relationship between Christians and Jews. Media attention in the United States at the time around “Nostra Aetate” focused on this topic, in large part because an ugly anti-Semitism had long been embedded in the church’s tradition. Thomas Stransky, C.S.P., wrote a succinct summary of that tradition in America on the 40th anniversary of “Nostra Aetate”:
The tradition held more or less the following: God continues to punish the Jewish people for its rejection and killing of Jesus, the Son of God, Messiah and Savior of all. By this deicide Jews have forsaken all rights to God’s promise in the Old Covenant, which has been completely replaced by the New, identified as the Catholic Church (supercessionism). Like sinful Cain, Jews should continue to wander the earth as vagabonds without a homeland. God sustains their dispersed existence to remind Catholics of the divine blessings of the New Covenant and Jews of their true calling to share the same by converting.
How that view of an entire religion and people might contribute to horrors like the Holocaust is not hard to imagine. “Nostra Aetate” attempted an official repudiation of it. “True, the Jewish authorities and those who followed their lead pressed for the death of Christ,” the document notes. “[S]till, what happened in His passion cannot be charged against all the Jews, without distinction, then alive, nor against the Jews of today.” Later, the document makes it clear that “in her rejection of every persecution against any man, the Church, mindful of the patrimony she shares with the Jews and moved not by political reasons but by the Gospel’s spiritual love, decries hatred, persecutions, displays of anti-Semitism, directed against Jews at any time and by anyone.”
America and other journals reported that some of the strongest language in the document had been watered down (including the use of “deplore” instead of “condemn” regarding anti-Semitism), presumably to assuage the concerns of Arab Christians, politicians wary of getting the church involved in the ongoing Arab-Israeli conflict or church traditionalists who thought it too accommodationist. But “Nostra Aetate” still marked a definitive change in the church’s approach toward the Jewish people and its own history.
The editors of America at the time lamented that the document was not more forceful, but wrote that they were satisfied with the result.
So far as the section on the Jews goes, we welcome the affirmation of our common spiritual patrimony and the rejection of anti-Semitism…we were not persuaded by the reasons given for dropping “deicide” from the earlier text, nor for the shift from “condemnare” (condemn) to “deplorare” (deplore). While we understand the political pressures and theological problems that forced the changes, we feel that in these respects the original text would have better achieved the goal intended. Still, as Cardinal Bea insists, the substance denoted by “deicide” and “condemnare” remains: the Church has solemnly declared that no basis exists in the religion of Christ for “hatred, persecutions, displays of anti-Semitism directed against Jews at any time and by anyone.” That much should be clear to the whole world.
Writing in America on the 50th anniversary of “Nostra Aetate,” Francis X. Clooney, S.J., commented that it “is distinctive even among Vatican II documents, in that it offers a courageously open stance toward other religions that does not dampen its effect by hedging its bold claims with overly cautious qualifications. It is open, and asks us to be open.” More importantly, however, it established a precedent for further work toward reconciliation with the Jewish people—and, in the future, toward other groups that have historically found themselves on the margins (or in the crosshairs) of the church.
“For all of us hoping for still further changes in the church toward more openness and inclusion, ‘Nostra Aetate’ can be taken as a sign of hope,” Father Clooney wrote in 2015. “Change is not to be feared; interreligious openness has not weakened, but strengthened the church.” That is a valuable lesson. “The battles involved may take a long (and even inexcusably long) time,” he continued, “but deep Catholic faith will always in the end honor openness and where it leads.”
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Our poetry selection for this week is “Dream,” by Rachel E. Hicks. Readers can view all of America’s published poems here.
In other news, we are excited to announce a pilgrimage to Ireland in April 2026. Led by myself and America editor in chief Sam Sawyer, S.J., the trip, “The Land of Saints & Scholars: A Journey into the Heart & Soul of Ireland,” will be from April 19 to 28, 2026. Reserve your spot!
In this space every week, America features reviews of and literary commentary on one particular writer or group of writers (both new and old; our archives span more than a century), as well as poetry and other offerings from America Media. We hope this will give us a chance to provide you with more in-depth coverage of our literary offerings. It also allows us to alert digital subscribers to some of our online content that doesn’t make it into our newsletters.
Other recent Catholic Book Club columns:
- Monika Hellwig and the vocation of the theologian
- Father Georges Lemaître and the Big Bang
- The patron saint of undergraduate philosophers: Frederick Copleston
- Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead’s reluctant spiritual ministry
- Anne Carr, the ‘founding mother’ of Catholic feminism in academia
Happy reading!
James T. Keane
