November 24, 2025

By Jim Towey

Thanksgiving and Passover memorialize the plight of people in flight from religious and political persecution. This year they are paired. On Thursday, I will thank God for my many Jewish friends, their culture, their traditions, their faith, their intellect and humor, and their steadfast courage in the face of relentless persecution.

It takes little effort to call to mind my many Jewish friends who have greatly enriched my life. There’s Bernie, my college roommate for three years and close friend for 50. And there’s Lionel, whose moral fortitude and heroism on behalf of Indochinese refugees after the Vietnam War drew me into some of the most meaningful work of my life. And then there’s Bobby who helped me found Aging with Dignity and has been a member of our Board of Directors since day one, not to mention a close buddy (despite our political differences).

There are also my Jewish friends from my time on President George W. Bush’s senior staff. The funeral for Vice President Dick Cheney last week brought some of them to town. Josh, Kristen, Joel, Ari, Blake and Tevi all helped me do my job. They were way smarter and I funnier.  And speaking of laughs, my friend Lisa, whom I met when she was a fearless investigative reporter for the Miami Herald in the 1990s, is always a ton of fun to be with, just like my other Jewish friends.

There were Jews from afar who helped mold my affection for the Jewish people, including writers, actors, musicians, comedians, and statesmen. Woody Allen’s deep insights into human relationships with films like Annie Hall, and Dennis Prager, who deepened my understanding of the book of Exodus, and whose views on politics and culture nearly overlap with mine, come to mind.

Seeing Nuremberg

Yet despite this evident greatness, the Jews are shadowed by persecution, even hatred. Last week I saw the movie Nuremberg. Russell Crowe will get an Oscar for his performance even though the movie has been ignored by the film elites. Interspersed with the re-enactment scenes of the famous 1946 trial of Hermann Goering and his Nazi collaborators, is actual film footage of what the American liberators found when they entered the concentration camps after the Germans had fled. I had to look away as stacks of emaciated, dead bodies were bulldozed into mass graves, pushed along like garbage at a landfill. Holocaust deniers and antisemites would do well to look at what hatred of Jews produced.

Perhaps you would be surprised to know that the first book I read on spirituality – the one that set me on a path of taking the things of God seriously – was not written by a Christian but by a Jew, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. God in Search of Man was given to me by a Catholic priest in 1978. It all made sense to me. It led me to some of his other writings, most especially his works examining the importance of the Sabbath, and a deeper understanding that God was – is – thirsting for me.

Jesus the Jew

My Christian faith centers my life. I cannot be a good Christian without embracing my fathers in faith – Abraham and his descendants, Moses and the prophets, and their patrimony. To love Jesus, the Jew, is to embrace the Genesis creation account that speaks of pre-existent being, and the Gospel genealogy of His human origin, summed up in the great passage from Luke, “And the virgin’s name was Mary.” Mary, the young Jewish woman, the hinge point of salvation history, is honored among Christians because without her Abraham-like submission to the will of God, there would be no Jesus.

You cannot love Christ and hate Jews. Christianity and antisemitism are incompatible. That doesn’t mean one must turn a blind eye to the failures of the leaders of the state of Israel and the instances of its military excesses. I am no apologist for Benjamin Netanyahu or his policies. History will judge him and meanwhile reasonable people can disagree about these matters. My respect and affection for Jews remain unfazed. My Catholic faith demands nothing less.

This Thanksgiving when I count my many blessings, I will give thanks to God for the Jews in my life and renew my commitment to oppose antisemitism in all its forms. The Thanksgiving table, after all, recalls an exodus story. I will enjoy turkey stuffing rather than matzah, and cranberries instead of bitter herbs, while remembering our elder brothers and sisters in faith and all that a Passover seder teaches: God not only is in search of us but loves us and saves us.

(The views expressed herein are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Aging with Dignity and/or its Board of Directors.)