On the second day of his pilgrimage to the Holy Land over the weekend, Pope Francis got in trouble. Several media outlets called it a "propaganda war": The pontiff made an unscheduled stop to pray at the wall that divides Jerusalem from Bethlehem, which is in the West Bank; the following day, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu accompanied him on yet another unscheduled visit, this time to an Israeli memorial for victims of terrorism. There were endless photo ops—a competition to capture the pope's most politically poignant moment: praying at the Western Wall, praying on the banks of the Jordan River, praying before a Palestinian security checkpoint covered with Arabic graffiti.
But even though Francis met with Netanyahu and Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas, his trip wasn't about the Arab-Israeli conflict. It was about Christians.
They're the forgotten stakeholders of Jerusalem: People like the nuns who live on the Via Dolorosa, the road Jesus walked to his crucifixion; the Franciscan priests who maintain the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus prayed before his death; and, perhaps most importantly, the shrinking number of Arab Christians who live in Israel, the Palestinian Territories, and surrounding countries. On the Vatican-run website dedicated to the pope's trip, there are several sections about the persecution of Palestinian Christians, emphasizing that they are "faced by an exclusivist Islamic movement that often refuses to recognize Christians as co-citizens with equal rights, equal obligations, and equal opportunities."
In an audience with members of the Muslim community, including Muhammed Hussein, the grand mufti of Jerusalem, Francis indirectly echoed this concern. He spoke of the role of Abraham in Christianity and Islam and the "fraternal dialogue" between the two faiths, but he closed with a rallying cry that seemed like an expression of mild disapproval: "May we respect and love one another as brothers and sisters! May we learn to understand the sufferings of others! May no one abuse the name of God through violence!"
The remarks are particularly striking in comparison with the comments he made in an audience with the two chief rabbis of Israel, David Lau and Shlomo Amar. Again, he spoke of dialogue and kinship, but he emphasized the shared theological heritage of Jews and Christians. "On the part of Catholics, there is a clear intention to reflect deeply on the significance of the Jewish roots of our own faith," Francis said. "I trust that, with your help, on the part of Jews too, there will be a continued and even growing interest in knowledge of Christianity, also in this holy land to which Christians trace their origins." His language was an explicit allusion to Nostra Aetate, the Church's first doctrine on people of other faiths, which was formulated during Vatican II in the mid-1960s and significant for its mostly conciliatory posture toward Jews. He emphasized the "bond" between Jews and Christians and the importance of working together to create peace and "oppose every form of anti-Semitism and all other forms of discrimination." It was a strong signal of his desire to connect with the Jewish people, but it wasn't necessarily a conciliatory gesture toward Israelis; the pontiff chose to make his first stop in the West Bank, and in his meeting with Abbas, he chastised both Israelis and Palestinians, calling their territorial conflict "unacceptable."
The centerpiece of the pope's trip also had nothing to do with the politics of Palestinian statehood. The Vatican emphasized that the purpose of the journey was a meeting between Francis and Patriarch Bartholomew, the archbishop of Constantinople and primary leader of Eastern Orthodox Christians. This get-together also had Vatican II-era roots; 50 years ago, around the time the Second Vatican Council was closing, Pope Paul VI spearheaded a meeting with Patriarch Athenagoras, marking the first time a Roman Catholic pontiff had met with an Eastern Orthodox patriarch since the Great Schism between the two denominations in 1054.