Cardinal Pablo Virgilio David, bishop of the Diocese of Kalookan. (Credit: Roy Lagarde/CBCP News.)
Cardinal Pablo Virgilio David, bishop of the Diocese of Kalookan. (Credit: Roy Lagarde/CBCP News.)

MANILA, Philippines – Filipino Cardinal Pablo Virgilio David, known for opposing Rodrigo Duterte’s war on drugs, is now one of the leading Asian voices against the U.S.-Israel war on Iran.

Known by his nickname Ambo, the bishop of Kalookan recently wrote an open letter to Americans, warning them that the war constitutes a “moral failure.”

In this email interview with Crux Now, the cardinal in the Philippines draws on his expertise as a biblical scholar, addressing the “dangerous” use of Scripture to justify war.

He also reflects on why many Catholics — including Filipino migrants in the United States — have embraced a Christianity “entangled with politics, ideology, and cultural tribalism” instead of the “radical moral vision” of Jesus.

“We should not allow faith to sanctify destruction,” David said.

David, 67, is the vice president of the Federation of Asian Bishops’ Conferences and a member of the powerful Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith.

The Jesuit-trained cardinal is also one of Asia’s leading Bible scholars, holding a doctorate in sacred theology from the Katholieke Universiteit Leuven in Belgium.

Crux Now: Outside the United States, you are one of the cardinals who are most vocal about the war on Iran. Why is it important for you, as an Asian and Filipino cardinal, to speak out on the issue?

David: I speak out because war is never just a regional matter. Once powerful nations normalize preemptive violence, no people can feel secure. Those of us in Asia know very well what it means to live in the shadow of empires, proxy conflicts, and geopolitical struggles that are rarely of our own making. As a Filipino, I come from a people with a colonial past, and that historical memory makes me instinctively wary whenever military might is presented as a moral necessity.

Like Pope Leo, I also speak out as a pastor. When bombs fall, it is always ordinary people who suffer first and most: children, mothers, workers, the elderly, the poor. It is easy for political leaders and ideological partisans to speak in abstractions — national interest, strategic targets, deterrence, regime change. But from a Christian perspective, human beings are never abstractions. Every life is sacred.

By the way, I also speak out to heed the call of Vatican Secretary of State Cardinal Pietro Parolin for Christians “to become ‘voices of peace’ who do not leave Pope Leo XIV standing alone in his opposition to war.” He also “warned that the ‘logic of the strongest’ risks prevailing on the international stage.”

Finally, I speak as a biblical scholar and a bishop. I know how easily religion can be recruited to bless violence. I think that is precisely why Pope Leo felt compelled to speak out. Because the name of God is invoked to justify war. We should not allow faith to sanctify destruction.

Since you posted your open letter to Americans, you have been barraged with negative comments, many of which you have had to personally address.

What do their comments reflect about the way Christianity is understood and lived out, especially in the Philippines?

Many of the comments reflect a form of Christianity that has become entangled with politics, ideology, and cultural tribalism. Instead of being shaped by the Gospel, faith sometimes becomes a language through which people defend prior political loyalties. In such cases, Christianity is no longer lived as discipleship under the Cross, but as identity reinforcement — God enlisted on the side of one’s nation, one’s party, one’s preferred strongman.

In the Philippines, this tendency is not unique to one issue. We have seen how easily religious feelings can coexist with support for violence, vengeance, and authoritarian solutions. That contradiction should trouble us deeply. It suggests that many believers have learned to be outwardly devotional without being inwardly evangelized by the radical moral vision of Jesus.

At the same time, I do not wish to judge people harshly. Many reactions are driven by fear, confusion, inherited worldviews, and selective exposure to information. This is why patient engagement remains important. One cannot simply condemn; one must also teach. The task of the Church is to help form consciences, not merely to win arguments.

Filipino-Americans are among the staunchest supporters of Trump and the war on Iran. Many of them are also devout Catholics who believe that Trump is fulfilling God’s will. As a Filipino bishop, how do you feel about this?

I feel sadness more than anger. Sadness, because it shows how faith can be absorbed into a political myth. Devotion by itself does not guarantee discernment. One may pray sincerely and still mistake political power for divine providence.

As Catholics, we do believe that God works in history, but that does not mean every powerful leader is an instrument of God in the biblical sense in which some imagine. [King Cyrus of Persia (ancient Iran), ironically, was regarded as God’s anointed one by the prophet Isaiah himself (See Isaiah 45:1) because he liberated the Jewish people exiled in Babylon and helped them get repatriated to rebuild Jerusalem.]

The test is not charisma, success, or the ability to project strength. The test is moral fruit: truthfulness, justice, compassion, humility, respect for the weak, and a genuine commitment to peace. These are closer to the standards of the Gospel than triumphalism or nationalist rhetoric.

I understand that many migrants carry deep gratitude toward the United States, especially if they experienced opportunity, stability, and freedom there. That gratitude is understandable. But gratitude should not become uncritical allegiance. No nation, no political leader, and no military campaign should be exempt from moral scrutiny.

People who support the war on Iran often cite the Old Testament, which tells us about wars between the Chosen People and nonbelievers. Recently, American evangelist Franklin Graham even compared President Trump to the biblical figure of Esther. 

As a biblical scholar, how would you address arguments that war is justified when it is for the glory of God?

This is a very dangerous way of reading Scripture. The Bible is not meant to be treated as a warehouse of proof-texts from which one can pick isolated episodes to justify present-day political agendas. The Church has always insisted that Scripture must be read historically, theologically, and in the light of the fuller revelation of God.

Yes, the Old Testament contains war narratives. But these belong to ancient contexts and reflect stages in the moral and religious development of a people struggling to understand God within the limits of their history. Revelation in the Bible is not flat; it is progressive. One must read these texts in the light of the prophets, who increasingly emphasize justice, mercy, and peace, and above all in the light of Jesus Christ.

For Christians, Christ is the decisive hermeneutical key. And what do we see in Christ? We see one who refuses to call down fire from heaven, who rebukes the disciple who uses the sword, who teaches love of enemies, and who overcomes evil not by inflicting suffering but by bearing it.

So when people say war is justified “for the glory of God,” I would say this: the glory of God is not revealed in domination, destruction, or revenge. In the Gospel of John, the glory of God is revealed most fully in the self-giving love of Christ. Any appeal to Scripture that bypasses that Christological center is a misuse of the Bible.

As for comparisons between modern political leaders and biblical figures such as Esther, these are often rhetorically powerful but theologically superficial. They can easily become a form of civil religion, where biblical imagery is used to shield power from moral criticism.

Pope Leo said that Jesus “does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war.” Church history, however, is filled with stories of wars won through the power of Christian prayer, such as the Battle of Lepanto (1571) and the Battles of La Naval de Manila (1646), which still inspire fervent devotion in the Philippines. 

How would you interpret the Pope’s latest statement in the context of such faith-inspired battles?

Pope Leo’s statement must be understood in the light of the Gospel itself, where Jesus consistently reveals a God who sides with life, mercy, and peace — not with violence.

Historical accounts like Lepanto or La Naval are part of the Church’s devotional memory. They express the faith of people who turned to God in moments of fear and conflict. But they must not be read as proof that God endorses war or takes sides in human violence.

The Church’s understanding of revelation is not static. It deepens over time. As we grow in our understanding of the Gospel, we are called to move away from interpreting God as one who grants victory in war, and toward recognizing Him as the One who calls us to conversion, reconciliation, and the preservation of life.

So when the Pope says that God does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war, he is reminding us that prayer cannot be used to justify violence. God cannot be invoked to bless destruction.

If anything, prayer in times of conflict should lead us away from war — not deeper into it.

In your open letter, you framed the Iran war as a “moral failure.” What is the biggest challenge facing the world’s moral and spiritual leaders?

The biggest challenge is the loss of moral credibility in a world saturated by power, propaganda, and polarization. Many moral and spiritual leaders are under pressure either to remain silent, to become partisan, or to reduce their message to what their own followers want to hear. That is a great temptation.

What the world needs today are leaders who can recover the courage to speak truth without fear, and compassion without selectivity. Moral leadership cannot be tribal. It cannot defend one set of victims while ignoring another. It cannot preach peace only when it is politically convenient.

Spiritual leaders must also help people recover the discipline of conscience. We are living in an age of instant outrage, manipulated perception, and ideological echo chambers. In such a climate, moral discourse easily becomes reactive and shallow. The task of spiritual leadership is to call people back to discernment — to prayerful, honest, morally serious reflection grounded in the dignity of every human person.

In the end, the deepest failure is not only political but spiritual: we have become too accustomed to violence. We explain it too quickly, justify it too easily, and mourn it too selectively. That is why moral witness matters. Someone must continue to say that the taking of innocent life is wrong, even when it is wrapped in the language of security, freedom, or divine purpose.

Paterno R. Esmaquel II is a Filipino journalist best known for his reportage at the news website Rappler, where he worked for 14 years. He currently writes for international Catholic outlets such as Crux...