God Doesn’t Suffer from Amnesia: A Response to Michael Knowles
In his commentary on Christian Zionism, Michael Knowles articulated a position that has become increasingly popular in some Catholic circles: supporting the modern State of Israel as a pragmatic political necessity while simultaneously stripping it of any theological significance. Knowles argues that, as a Catholic, he believes the Old Testament is “fulfilled” in such a way that the Jewish people no longer possess a unique, divinely sanctioned claim to the Holy Land. To him, the land is a “plot of dirt,” and supporting the nation-state is merely a choice between less-than-ideal geopolitical alternatives in the region.
While I do not expect Knowles to subscribe to Protestant Christian Zionism, his argument falls into a different trap: over-spiritualization. By reducing the Abrahamic promises to mere “types” that have been discarded, he risks undermining the very consistency of God.
The central flaw in the “plot of dirt” argument is that it ignores the definitive teaching of the post-Vatican II Church. In Romans 11:29, St. Paul is unambiguous: “For the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable.” If the claim that the land promise—the primary physical gift of the Abrahamic covenant—is now void, then a Catholic is forced to conclude that God has, in fact, revoked a promise He once labeled “everlasting.”
Catholic theology does not require one to choose between the Church and Israel. While the Church believes she is the “New Israel,” the graft does not replace the root. As Paul warns in that same chapter of Romans, the “wild olive shoot” (the Gentiles) should not boast over the “natural branches.”
Knowles’ dismissal of the land as a mere “plot of dirt” 2,000 years removed from its inhabitants leans toward a form of theological dualism. Catholicism is fundamentally incarnational and sacramental; they believe that God communicates His grace through physical matter, such as bread, wine, oil and water. It is, therefore, entirely consistent with the Catholic imagination to believe that God’s fidelity is also expressed through a physical place.
To “spiritualize” every promise made to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is to suggest that God’s involvement in history has ended and has been replaced by a purely abstract, ethereal kingdom. But if God promised the land to the seed of Abraham “forever,” then the return of the Jewish people to that land is not just a win for Western-style democracy—it is a theological necessity. It is a sign that God does not suffer from amnesia.
Knowles bases his support for Israel on the fact that he “doesn’t like the alternatives” or that Islamic governance hasn’t always protected holy sites. This is a house built on sand. If a more stable, secular, or protective power were to emerge in the region tomorrow, Knowles’ “practical” support for Israel would, by his own logic, vanish.
In contrast, Catholic support for Israel should be built on the rock of Covenantal Fidelity. Support for the Jewish people’s right to their ancestral home is grounded in the belief that God keeps His word. From a post-Vatican II perspective, the “fulfillment” of the covenant in Jesus did not strip the original heirs of their heritage; it expanded the family of God to include the nations. Furthermore, the land remains a permanent sign of God’s faithfulness.
Knowles’ joke about preferring pastrami over shawarma is a witty bit of New York cultural commentary, but such humor falls flat when God is in the room and His covenant is on the line. More than a preference for Western sensibilities, a true Catholic stand with Israel should uphold the belief that the “Elder Brother” still holds a divinely willed place in the land God swore to the Patriarchs.