(JTA) — The Bible is back in the news.

In a Pentagon prayer service on April 15, Secretary of War Pete Hegseth quoted what was seemingly meant to be a verse from the ancient Hebrew prophet Ezekiel, but was in fact from the Gospel of Tarantino, as Stephen Colbert quipped.

In response, Sean Parnell, chief Pentagon spokesman, released a statement on X noting that the homage to the auteur’s 1994 film “Pulp Fiction” was intentional. Hegseth had “shared a custom prayer … which was obviously inspired by dialogue in ‘Pulp Fiction.’”

Two days later, the New York Times suggested that President Donald Trump was likely participating in “America Reads the Bible,” a marathon reading of scripture to take place in Washington, D.C.’s Museum of the Bible, as a means to repair his relationship with Catholics after he publicly sparred with the pope over the Iran war and deleted a tweet depicting himself as Jesus Christ.

“President Trump has a complicated relationship with the Bible,” the paper noted. “He has often called it his favorite book, has posed with it for photographers outside a church and has sold his own edition for $60. But he has also struggled to name a favorite passage or even pick a favorite Testament between the two.”

At the event on April 21, Trump read a passage from 2 Chronicles, in which God promises to heal the land if its people “humble themselves, pray, and seek My favor.”

As a scholar specializing in the influence of the Hebrew Bible and Jewish ideas on American history, I can attest that the habit of American leaders citing chapter and verse (accurate or not) is as old as the United States itself. In fact, it dates back to the Pilgrims. It has been a powerful and effective means of cultivating covenantal community. Americans who cited scripture have forged a country unique in world history in the religious freedom it has offered to all its citizens, not the least of which to us Jews, the original biblically bound people.

The America ethos of fighting for freedom and liberty, drawn from the story of the Children of Israel millennia ago, to this day shapes how the United States operates both internally and on the world stage.

Reflecting on the harsh and uncertain early days of Plymouth Colony, William Bradford, who signed the Mayflower Compact and would serve as the territory’s governor for roughly three decades, paraphrased the Exodus story and Moses’ final speech in Deuteronomy. Arriving in the New World, he said, his fellow Pilgrims could only see:

a hideous and desolate wilderness, full of wild beasts and wild men — and what multitudes there might be of them they knew not. Neither could they, as it were, go up to the top of Pisgah to view from this wilderness a more goodly country to feed their hopes; for which way soever they turned their eyes (save upward to the heavens) they could have little solace or content in respect of any outward objects.

In the first half of this excerpt from his journal, Bradford was alluding to the Israelites’ escape from Egypt into the rough wilderness in which they would wander for 40 years. And then he referenced the mountaintop on the precipice of the Promised Land, Pisgah, on which Moses stood as his people were about to complete their arduous journey as described in the last of the Five Books of Moses. To Bradford, scripture was a source of strength and solace during communally challenging times.

Ten years later, the Puritan leader John Winthrop would describe in similarly Hebraic lens how if Massachusetts Bay Colony’s residents will do right in the eyes of the Lord, “We shall find that the God of Israel is among us, when 10 of us shall be able to resist a thousand of our enemies… For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill. The eyes of all people are upon us.” 

Winthrop was misquoting of Leviticus 26:8: “Five of you shall give chase to a hundred, and a hundred of you shall give chase to ten thousand.” However, the details were less important than the sense of divine mission that was powering the Pilgrims’ and the Puritan’s project.

Later, the American Founders also possessed a powerful attachment to the Bible, even if the details were sometimes hazy.

John Adams, in 1776, after hearing a sermon paralleling the Patriot cause to Israel’s fight against Pharaoh’s tyranny, ruminated: “Is it not a Saying of Moses, ‘who am I, that I should go in and out before this great People’?” It actually was not a saying of Moses. Adams was conflating Moses’ “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh…” speech in Exodus 3:11 with a a request by a much later Jewish ruler, King Solomon that God “give me now wisdom and knowledge to go out and come in before this people” (2 Chronicles 1:10).

A year earlier, the equally-enamored-with-biblical-analogies Abigail Adams had written to John wishing upon the “wretched” loyalist and former royal governor of Massachusetts Bay, Thomas Hutchinson, “the fate of Mordecai,” mistakenly swapping in the hero of the Purim story for his villainous foil Haman, who is hanged at the end of the story.

Abraham Lincoln, perhaps the country’s most biblically literate president ever, often weaved scripture into his seminal addresses, from “four score and seven years ago,” which was likely borrowed from a rabbinic sermon citing a verse in Psalms, to a purposeful paraphrase of Exodus 19:5 when, on Feb. 21, 1861, he referred to Americans writ large as the Lord’s “almost chosen people.” 

It hasn’t only been political leaders, of course, who rephrase the Word in an effort to encourage Americans to live up to their highest ideals. Martin Luther King Jr. made reference to that same mountaintop as Bradford in the civil rights leader’s final speech on April 3, 1968 in Memphis. He rousingly reassured his audience that:

We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn’t matter with me now, because I’ve been to the mountaintop… I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!

Citing (and mis-citing) scripture, then, is a longstanding and worthy American tradition.

Some Jews might feel excluded by Jesus and New Testament texts being invoked in a nonsectarian context by public leaders, and verses can be abused as opposed to correctly interpreted. Nevertheless,  the phenomenon of looking to the Bible to shape the soul of America has served a largely positive purpose. A religious civic space is full of happier, healthier people who give more charity, have more children and forge a strong sense of community.

Regardless of one’s party or views on those in power today, then, quoting the Bible in the American public sphere has long characterized the American experiment. On the whole, it has been largely good for the American collective character and good for the Jews. Occasionally, these quotes might be imperfect, but they reflect a worthy national will: the desire to see through the long march towards liberty and justice for all.

This article originally appeared on JTA.org.

The post What it means for Jews when Trump administration officials misquote the Bible appeared first on The Forward.

(JTA) — Two Jewish men were stabbed on the street in a heavily Orthodox neighborhood of London on Wednesday, escalating anxieties amid ongoing incidents targeting local Jews that police say reflect Iranian involvement.

A man was arrested at the scene in Golders Green after being apprehended first by members of the Shomrim, a Jewish security force that operates in parts of London. Hatzola, the Jewish-operated nonprofit emergency service whose ambulances were recently burned in an arson, treated the two victims.

“One male was seen running along Golders Green Road armed with a knife and attempting to stab Jewish members of the public. Shomrim responded immediately and detained the suspect. Police attended and deployed a taser,” Shomrim said in a post to social media.

Both men who were stabbed — one in his 70s and the other in his 30s — are hospitalized in stable condition, according to the Metropolitan Police.

Prime Minister Keir Starmer condemned the attack, calling it antisemitic and praising the nonprofit services that responded.

“The antisemitic attack in Golders Green is utterly appalling. Attacks on our Jewish community are attacks on Britain,” he said on X. “Thank you to Shomrim, Hatzola and the police for acting swiftly. Those responsible will be brought to justice.”

The incident comes amid a series of attacks on Jewish institutions, and arrests of people who allegedly staged them or otherwise are accused of posing threats to the London Jewish community. No one had previously been injured in the incidents, which have included multiple arson attacks on local synagogues and, on Tuesday, a fire at a memorial in Golders Green for those murdered by the Iranian regime. Police have arrested dozens of people in recent weeks and have said they see evidence that Iran may be paying locals to stoke violence against Jews.

The Metropolitan Police said they were working to identify the nationality and background of the attacker in Golders Green, who they said was 45 and had attempted to stab officers to responded to the scene. They also acknowledged that the current situation is alarming to Jews in London.

“We are aware of the significant distress and concern this incident is likely to cause in the face of a number of incidents in the local area,” Deputy Chief Superintendent Luke Williams, who leads policing in the area, said in a statement. “A suspect is in custody, and investigators are considering all possible motives.”

This article originally appeared on JTA.org.

The post 2 Jewish men stabbed in London, in attack British PM Keir Starmer calls ‘utterly appalling’ appeared first on The Forward.

US soldiers stand next to a Patriot anti-missile battery (not seen) west of Jerusalem, Oct. 23, 2012. Photo: REUTERS/Ronen Zvulun

King Charles came to Washington this week to renew an old claim: that Britain remains America’s closest friend, joined by history, language, culture, and long alliance. There is truth in that. The ties are real. Yet the visit also exposed a tension no amount of ceremony could quite conceal. Beneath the pageantry, the handshakes, and the polished invocations of shared destiny, the old “special relationship” seemed less like a settled fact than a British hope. For today, America’s most “special” ally is surely Israel. Who says so? Britain’s own ambassador to the United States, caught in a leaked recording only weeks before the king arrived.

The royal visit was intended to mark 250 years of American independence, an anniversary born from rupture, and was tasked with displaying friendship between two nations whose elected leaders plainly have little warmth for one another.

For decades, the phrase “special relationship” has been used as a kind of Anglo-American incense, waved over every disagreement until the room smelled less of conflict. US President Donald Trump has battered British Prime Minister Keir Starmer for months, leaving the relationship between Washington and London looking bruised, transactional, even contemptuous. The royal visit was supposed to place something older and grander above that. And it nearly worked.

But Britain’s ambassador to Washington, Christian Turner, said the quiet part aloud.

The Financial Times obtained a leaked recording of Turner speaking to British students, in which he called the phrase “special relationship” nostalgic and backward-looking. But there was, he said, one country that could probably claim such a relationship with the United States: Israel. The Foreign Office insisted his remarks were informal and did not represent official policy, but the damage was done.

Turner’s point was awkward because it was true. The United States still values Britain. The historic and cultural ties remain deep. But a special relationship requires more than shared history and flags in matching colors. It requires instinctive trust in moments of danger. Under Starmer, that trust has more than frayed — it is in shreds.

Trump has been quite frank about his anger. He attacked Starmer over Britain’s hesitancy during the US-Israeli campaign against Iran, saying the prime minister was “not Winston Churchill” and criticizing the delay over the US use of its own Diego Garcia base in British territory. Britain initially withheld access to the strategic base for offensive operations.

Trump has also mocked Starmer’s caution, complaining that Britain was no longer what it had been, and treating the prime minister less as an indispensable ally than as a nervous functionary who cannot decide which way to face.

The contrast with Israel is stark. Trump recently praised Israel as a “GREAT Ally” on social media, calling the Jewish state “Courageous, Bold, Loyal, and Smart” and adding it “fights hard” and knows how to win.

US Secretary of War Pete Hegseth has been even sharper. In an official Pentagon briefing just three weeks ago, he thanked Israel for being a “brave, capable, and willing ally,” saying the “rest of our so-called allies saw what real capabilities look like” and should “take some notes.”

Britain gets nostalgia. Israel gets admiration.

Trump’s contempt for Starmer is mirrored back home, where the latter’s popularity has collapsed. YouGov’s March polling put him on a net favorability rating of minus 48, with 70 percent of Britons viewing him unfavorably. In April the same poll showed a similarly cringeworthy net favorability rating of minus 48, with 69 percent of the nation seeing the Labour leader negatively.

The public has watched a prime minister who promised seriousness lurch from one retreat to another: winter fuel payments, farming inheritance tax, digital ID, the two-child benefit cap, tax promises, the Muslim pedophilia rape-gangs inquiry, the Chagos deal … He appears like a man constantly dragged by events he failed to understand.

Even on the day of the king’s address to the US Congress, Starmer narrowly escaped a dangerous Commons vote over the Peter Mandelson affair — his disastrously chosen, Jeffrey Epstein-linked previous choice for US ambassador. Parliament rejected a Conservative motion to refer him to the Privileges Committee only after Labour MPs were instructed to vote against it. While the king spoke in Washington of continuity and alliance, the prime minister survived in London only by party discipline, whipping, and arithmetic.

Trump, for his part, played the royal moment beautifully. His White House speech was warm, even lavish. He called Charles “a very elegant man,” praised Britain’s ancient contribution to American liberty, invoked Runnymede, Churchill, Roosevelt, and yes, the special relationship. The president spoke of the two countries as heirs to a shared civilizational inheritance.

King Charles then took the same project to Congress, his speech masterfully wrapping political argument in historical courtesy. He joked about Parliament taking a hostage when the monarch visits Westminster, praised American democracy, Magna Carta, the Bill of Rights, and the Atlantic partnership. He was visiting, he said, in an era “more volatile and more dangerous” than the world his mother addressed in 1991.

This was royal diplomacy, but it was politics all the same. The king spoke under the protection of reverence. Americans treat the British monarch as a figure of ceremony, curiosity and continuity, almost outside the normal reach of partisan argument. That gave him room to press on the places where Britain differs from Trump’s America: Ukraine, NATO, climate, the global order, the Middle East, the language of shared democratic restraint.

Trump likes royalty. He respected the late queen. He was polite to her son, King Charles. But courtesy is not conversion. A historic royal speech in Congress cannot make an ailing prime minister look strong. A successful state visit cannot make Britain seem reliable if we are led by a prime minister who keeps failing the test when decisions arrive.

The ambassador’s leak cut through the bunting. Britain came to Washington trying to prove it was still America’s closest ally. Its own man in Washington had already suggested otherwise. Israel fights beside America. Britain explains itself to America. That is the difference, and everyone can see it.

The king’s visit brought out military bands and inspections: soldiers in dress uniforms — a spectacular display of ceremonial closeness. Speechwriters crafted their finest flourishes to describe historic ties, cultural affection, and family bonds across the Atlantic. But it was Britain’s most important diplomat, not our prime minister or even our king, who told the truth. His words were embarrassing not because they were shocking, but because he simply said what we already knew.

Just as President Trump and Secretary Hegseth have been saying for weeks, the real military display to demonstrate a truly special relationship was not on show on the South Lawn of the White House, but in the skies, the seas, and on the ground in the Middle East: Israeli and American brothers in arms, fighting barbarism and evil, bound by a common enemy, common goals, and common values. They are fighting for Israel, for America, for the West, and the entire civilized world. That is what a special relationship looks like when the pageantry is stripped away.