Reflections from the 2025 Jewish-Christian Dialogue Meeting

By Rev. Paul S. Tché

Introduction

In early April 2025, Jewish and Christian leaders gathered once again in Swarthmore, Pennsylvania, to continue the decades-long journey of mutual learning, reconciliation, and shared reflection. Across multiple sessions, we engaged deeply with sacred texts, theological traditions, and the lived experiences that shape our respective faith communities.

This session did not center only on textual analysis or historical debates, but also on the raw and sacred space of empathy. Against the backdrop of rising global conflict, political polarization, and mutual pain, participants opened their hearts to express not only what connects us but also the weight of what divides us.

The Crisis of Empathy

The very last session of this meeting began with a sobering premise: that our age is suffering from a “crisis of empathy.” This is not only evident in international headlines but also in our interpersonal and interfaith engagements. Many of us feel the growing pressure to choose sides, defend identities, and explain away suffering rather than enter into it with humility.

Several Jewish participants named the fresh, overwhelming trauma of October 7 and the reverberating impact of grief, fear, and disorientation in Israel and among Jews worldwide. Others lifted up the moral challenge of recognizing the full humanity of Gazan children, regardless of political framing. The image of the tzelem Elohim—that all human beings are created in the image of God—became a theological anchor. If we affirm this, then empathy must not be a matter of proximity or politics, but of sacred obligation.

Yet, as was named with courage and grace, empathy has its limits. One Christian participant reflected that while she could enter the space of suffering in Gaza, she could not claim to fully understand the generational trauma experienced by Jewish communities. This acknowledgement—that empathy does not erase difference, nor fully bridge the void—is essential to honest dialogue. It prevents us from flattening experiences into false equivalences and instead invites us to listen longer and speak with greater care.

Is Dialogue Enough?

A poignant question arose near the end of this session: Is this dialogue an action-oriented space? Many participants, while affirming the transformative power of these encounters, expressed frustration at the cyclical nature of our conversations. Without clear steps forward, even the most honest dialogue risks becoming an echo chamber.

Suggestions were made to deepen the work:

Encouraging written reflections to clarify thoughts and process disagreements.
Creating more frequent virtual gatherings to build continuity between in-person meetings.
Ensuring the presence of Palestinian Christian voices to enrich our shared discernment.

One of the most powerful appeals came in the form of a simple but searching question: What do you need from us? What do you want us to hear? This moment reminded us that empathy is not passive—it is responsive. It listens not only with compassion, but with the readiness to act in solidarity.

Looking Forward: Toward a More Just and Courageous Dialogue

As we reflect on the dialogue’s next steps, we do well to remember that empathy is not merely a feeling but a discipline. It must be cultivated through spiritual practice, theological courage, and concrete relationship-building. Moving forward, the group might consider:

Centering Empathy as a Spiritual Discipline: Future meetings could include spiritual practices (shared prayer, silence, or lament) focused on cultivating empathy across pain.
Action Beyond Words: From addressing antisemitism and Islamophobia to confronting Christian nationalism, we can transform theological reflection into public witness.
Shared Civic Responsibility: Many participants rightly pointed out that our roles as citizens—particularly in the United States—call us to advocate for justice in refugee policy, democratic integrity, and truthful public discourse.
Honoring Sacred Boundaries: As we navigate overlapping liturgical and theological traditions, particularly around Passover and Easter, we must practice restraint and humility to avoid appropriation and distortion.

Conclusion

The dialogue is not a destination—it is a discipline. The voices around this table reflect centuries of pain, misunderstanding, and renewal. And while we may not always leave with agreements or tidy resolutions, we leave with something equally vital: the commitment to stay. To listen again. To risk empathy. To be transformed.

In the words shared near the end of our time together, perhaps the greatest gift we can offer one another is not perfect understanding, but the sacred assurance that none of us is alone in this work.

Let us walk gently—and boldly—forward.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of the CUIM or the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).