The history of Christian vilification of Judaism and violence against Jews—from John Chrysostom's scathingly bitter sermons against the Jews of Antioch (387 CE) to the mass exterminations of the mid-twentieth century—has been thoroughly documented. Research has shown that this shameful and bloody trajectory of Christian anti-Semitism, often ignited by socioeconomic factors, has been propelled by a single motive, namely that Jews—by extension, all Jews—carry the burden of responsibility as killers of Christ.

The author of this book—no newcomer to the topic of Jewish and Christian dialogue—makes a unique contribution to the list of scholarly literature on the topic. As a Christian, Boys' approach is to confront—or perhaps better to say, be confronted by—the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth as mirrored in seventeen centuries of Jewish experience, during which time Christian societies, influenced by darker tellings of Christ's suffering and death perpetrated, condoned, or ignored violence against Jews at the expense of the Passion narrative's brighter, life-affirming meaning within the Christian faith. It is the image of Christianity reflected in the tarnished mirror of history that Boys seeks to address.

The book begins with a few multicultural examples that demonstrate the symbolic power of the crucifixion story and the many ways it has been told. It then examines New Testament texts that reflect the polemic of a nascent Jewish sect whose message has not been widely received among other Jewish groups—most notably the Pharisees and Sadducees—with the result that the diversity of Second Temple Judean society and its leaders are reduced to a monolithic block of opposition responsible for the arrest and execution of its leader. Ironically and by contrast, the Romans—represented by Pontius Pilate, his wife, and a centurion—are portrayed as sympathetic to the new movement, both within and outside the canon. The author's point is that the New Testament provides ample raw materials for the accusation that Jews are “enemies of Christ,” forging a lamentable refrain in patristic sources that echoes down the ages. The dark drama of this story wrongly told has played a central role in Holy Week hymnography for many centuries, so it comes as no surprise that Holy Week was the season of pogroms in many Christian nations (213–14).

Christian anti-Semitism throughout the medieval period and premodern periods is described as fully as one could imagine in such a brief book, wherein the role of the Roman Catholic Church is presented with boldness and balance. Boys gives credit where such is due, but also acknowledges the recurring theme of the church's position as the new Israel marshaling itself against the “synagogue of Satan,” a phrase found in papal admonitions and reformers' sermons alike, keeping alive the notion that treating Jews well, and even justly, is tantamount to a betrayal of Christ.

The phenomenon of racism, a modern social construct, introduced a new, more insidious dimension to anti-Semitism. Formerly, Christian persecution of Jews (as well as Muslims and “pagans”) arose from social and economic factors that alienated non-Christians from the rights of citizenship. For Jews of the premodern period, this produced two effects: (1) Jewish enterprise sought means of making a living that did not depend on the rights of citizenship, including ownership of land; and (2) the status of being a tolerated minority was precarious, and could easily worsen in times of social and economic instability. Thus blood libel, rumors concerning desecration of the Host, sorcery, and similar charges provided convenient excuses for plundering Jewish assets.

With the Enlightenment, the extension of limited human rights to Jews brought opportunities for greater prominence in European society, bringing the “Jewish question” to the fore. Even with the rise of secular society, it became clear that the power of the dark telling of the crucifixion story would not dissipate. Rounding out her historical survey, Boys effectively makes the connection between Christian teaching and preaching and the Holocaust and astutely observes that Christian resistance against the Third Reich was not necessarily the same thing as opposing anti-Semitism (122–23).

In the final section, Boys suggests ways in which the Passion narrative might be recast within the light of both faith and history in order to begin the process of setting aright what has been horribly wrong for such a long time. This “transformed telling” relies on critical biblical scholarship based on sound historical reassessments, all with an eye toward developing a more authentic understanding of the suffering and death of Christ. The author argues that reinterpreting Christianity's troubling texts is a fundamental responsibility for all Christians (203). This task must be part of the larger enterprise of truth telling, which can come about only by facing the past with boldness and humility. Of course, none of this can correct the abuses of a shameful history, but acknowledging the collective image reflected in the historical experiences of our Jewish brothers and sisters is a necessary first step toward creating a better future.

This book is worth the read and well suited for undergraduate classes in Holocaust and related studies. Its approach is sound. The tarnished mirror—a recurring phrase attributed by the author to the Facing History and Ourselves Foundation (www.facinghistory.org)—is an apt metaphor; but it actually originates with the late German historian Detlev Peukert, and is borrowed from a sobering maxim that has been taped to my office door for most of my teaching career: “The shadowy figures that look out at us from the tarnished mirror of history are—in the final analysis—ourselves.”