1. I will begin with the "Remembrance" category. Remembrance (secher, anamnesls, memoria) is a fundamental category of both the Old and the New Testament, and therefore a fundamental concept of our two traditions. Judaism and Christianity live from a narrative tradition, in which the narrating past is at all times actual, effective and powerful. Could anything be more central for Judaism than the memory of the liberation from Egypt on Pesach-Feast? What is Christianity if not the memoria passionis et resurrectionis?
For modern Judaism, the memory of the Shoah has become a new identity-making point of reference. It is not a question of mythologizing Auschwitz, as is the danger in many post-Auschwitz theologies. But Jews and Christians alike, as well as all people of good will, should keep Auschwitz in their memory. "We remember" (1998) is the title of the Vatican document on this subject. "We remember" means: "We cannot and we must not forget". Today and in the future, since the number of direct witnesses of that period is diminishing, it is an essential educational task to pass on the knowledge of historical events to the new generation.
Memoria is also "Remembering for the Future", as Yehuda Bauer termed it in his opus magnum on the Shoah; as "memoria fututri" it involves clarifying the past, cleansing memory (purification memoriae) as a warning for the future and an opening for a new common future.
Remembrance contradicts a widespread superficial conception of' happiness. Friedrich Nietzsche held that fortunately we are able also to forget, and that only by forgetting does happiness become happiness. In contrast, Johannes Baptist Metz has rightly spoken of the need of a new culture of remembrance in opposition to the modern culture devoid of memory and history.
The Church should not fear confronting the historical truth; at any rate, she should not be afraid of the historical truth, but rather pay respect to it. To this end, the archives of the Holy See are being made available for historical research; beginning from next year (2003), the entire correspondence between the Holy See and the then government of the German Reich up until 1939 should be accessible.
Yet, remembrance is more than history. Memorial events and holocaust commemoration sites, which attract foremost prominence in the present public debate, are unquestionably significant; but they can also acquire the function of storing the past, laying it aside and packaging it in order to take it out again on solemn occasions as some sort of valuable family keepsake. In our information society pretty much everything can be stored. But storing information is not remembering. Remembrance takes place there where our soul is branded; only when it aches can a process of healing start. Remembrance must therefore bring about a turning back and thus - God willing - a bestowal of reconciliation.
2. The second category pertains to Messianic awareness. Judaism and Christianity are religions in which there is not only the backward glance, but also a promise for the future arising from the past. In both religions the world is open ahead to the kingdom of life, of freedom and of peace.
No unrealistic worldly utopia of the future can originate from such hope. Indeed, we both know from bitter experience that those who want to attain heaven on earth will turn earth into hell. The rediscovery of the messianic means something else; it is not a matter of some vague plans to improve the world. The rabbinical tradition has expressed what is meant here in the sentence. "He who has saved one human being has saved the world."
The rediscovery of the messianic means becoming aware of our historical world responsibility from the perspective of hope. It is a matter of doing the truth. In this, Jews and Christians - for so long adversaries when not merely indifferent to each other- should strive to become allies. They have a great common heritage to oversee: the common image of mankind, the unique human dignity and responsibility before God, the understanding of the world as creation, the concept of justice and peace, the worth of the family, the hope of definitive salvation and fulfillment.
These understandings are among the very foundations of our western culture; today they run the risk of falling into oblivion and being disregarded. Cultural and moral depravation seem imminent. After the tragedy of the Shoah, Jews and Christians alike are challenged to intervene and are responsible for preventing that decline, in which the West and the whole world risks losing its soul. If that happened, the Shoah and the destruction of all religious and cultural values would have taken place a second and final time.
In this perspective, in the future our dialogue should not only deal with religious questions of principle; nor should it be dedicated only to clarifying the past. Our common heritage should be profitably made available in response to contemporary challenges: to issues involving the sanctity of life, the protection of the family, justice and peace in the world, the hostages of terrorism, and the integrity of creation, among others.
"It is our task to pass on to the new generations the treasures and values we have in common, so that never again will man despise his own brother in humanity and never again will conflicts or wars be unleashed in the name of an ideology that despises a culture or religion. On the contrary, the different religious traditions are called together to put their patrimony at the service of all, in the hope of building the common European home together, united in justice, peace, equality and solidarity" (John Paul II to the European Jewish-Christian Congress in Paris on January 28-29, 2002).
3. Finally, the third category pertaining to "dialogue". The Bible considers humans dialogical beings in relation with God, and in relation with one another. Not without good reason has it been that Jewish thinkers - Martin Buber, Emmanuel Levinas - have ardently proposed the paradigm of dialogical thought to a one-sided civilization marked by individualism, and have inspired us to discern that it is in the countenance of the other, in confronting the otherness of that other, that we discover ourselves. Not only do we undertake dialogue, we are dialogue.
Meanwhile "dialogue" has become a fashionable byword grown shabby by overuse, a worn out coin. In our own particular context, the word refers to ecumenical, interreligious, social, inner-church, and also to Jewish-Christian dialogue. Often such dialogue does not go beyond polite expressions of friendliness. That is still better than violent dispute. But is there not also the danger of minimization, of just tolerating each other, the risk of relativization, indifferentism, patchwork identity? In this sense one does not or cannot authentically bear and respect the otherness of the other.
The Jewish-Christian dialogue cannot be of that kind. Jews and Christians, with all they have in common in their fundamental understandings, in the fundamental conceptions which are constitutive for their respective identities, are and remain different. These differences concern their religious convictions on the question of God and Christ, their notions of world redemption or otherwise, their different practises in the order of Sabbath and meals, as well as their attitude to what the Jews call "ha-arez", "the land", and what - after 1945 and after the foundation of the State of Israel in 1948 - is determined now more than ever by their political views. Therefore we should not approach the Jewish-Christian dialogue with naive expectations of a harmonious understanding. It will remain a difficult dialogue.
Yet, precisely when we do not simplemindedly ignore our otherness, but rather bear with it, can we learn from each other. Still much is to be done. There is considerable ignorance on both sides, and ignorance is one of the roots of reciprocal prejudice. For that reason we are at present considering how to include some basic knowledge of Judaism in the training of future priests; conversely, the training of future rabbis should include some basic knowledge of Christianity.
Ultimately, relations between Jews and Christians cannot be reduced to a simple formula and even less so can it be raised to a higher synthesis. Franz Rosenzweig and others have spoken of a mutual completion. Yet, Rabbi Professor Michael Signer (Chicago) is certainly right when he states that their highly tense relation can only be expressed through images and symbols.
One such image is found in the interpretation of the prophet Zechariah by rabbinical theology. The prophet looks into the messianic future where the peoples are taken into the alliance with Israel. "On that day the Lord will be one and his name one" (14,9). According to rabbinical interpretation all of us, Jews and all peoples, will stand shoulder to shoulder.
Only at the end of time shall the historically indissoluble relation between Israel and the church find a solution. Until then though they may not be united in one another's arms, neither should they turn their backs to each other. They should stand shoulder to shoulder as partners, and - in a world where the glimmer of hope has grown faint - together they must strive to radiate the light of hope without which no human being and no people can live. Young people especially need this common witness to the hope of peace in justice and solidarity, never again contempt, hatred, oppression and persecution between races, between cultures and between religions!
Jews and Christians together maintain this hope. For they can testify from the bitter and painful lessons of history that - despite otherness and foreignness and despite historical guilt – conversion, reconciliation, peace and friendship are possible. May thus the new century become a century of brotherhood - shoulder to shoulder. Shalom!