It was during the Nazi rise to power in Hitler’s Germany that The University of Iowa School of Religion committed to having a professor dedicated to offering courses in Judaism and the Hebrew Bible—for nearly 100 years, the department, now called Religious Studies, has kept this focus as a part of its mission and, for the last 55 of those years, Professor Jay Holstein has carried the torch in these efforts. Raised in Philadelphia, educated in Willow Grove, Philadelphia, New York City, and Cincinnati, with a fresh PhD in hand, he landed in Iowa City in 1970 after completing rabbinical school. He got to work and, until he drew his last breath on November 14, 2025, he was a Teacher: he died in the middle of his final semester of teaching Quest for Human Destiny, his signature course. He was a teacher in the classroom, he was a teacher on the street, he was a teacher at the gym. He engaged people with their minds and their hearts. For many, this resulted in seeing and engaging with the world in a new way, with a greater understanding of the fundamental human questions that unite us and a passion for being grounded in civility as we engage the world. Consider the following remembrances:
NATE STANIFORTH
I am one of many of thousands of students who loved Professor Holstein's lectures so much that we left The University of Iowa with an unplanned minor in Religious Studies. Even twenty years later, I remember his teaching vividly: the intensity, the humor, the profane and irreverent refusal to allow anyone to slip into boredom or indifference. I remember the high expectations he had for us and for himself. He taught like his life depended on it. It was like watching a boxer going up, round after round, in the ring—fighting hard, giving everything. He taught us about Hemingway and Gilgamesh and Stanley Kubrick and the Book of Ecclesiastes—stories about love and fear and death and loyalty and friendship; the "blood and guts of being a human being," as he said. Under his examination, these stories became immediate and urgent and vital, making demands with questions that do not have simple answers: “What do you care about? What are you going to do about it? How are you going to spend your life? How do you honor the good? How do you defend your loved ones from the bad? Where are you going?” In his lectures, it felt like we were circling some great secret about who we are and what we're doing here—the Quest for Human Destiny—always getting closer and closer, layer after layer, a golden apple within a silver apple within….
It was electrifying. As a student, I'd visit him at his office hours in Gilmore Hall and this began a friendship that lasted for over twenty years. I treasure the impact Professor Holstein has had on my life. What an absolute titan.
DAVID DIERKS
Jay was the consummate travel partner. If he wasn’t so darn good at teaching, he would have made a terrific travel guide or—better yet—a fundraiser.
Our friendship went back many years. He was my neighbor on Iowa City’s west side. He often reminded me of the character T.S. Garp in John Irving’s novel The World According to Garp. A runner. A methodical runner. You could set your watch every day when he ran by. He was also a big part of our “neighborhood watch.” Like Garp, he would run down any car that dared to speed down our street. One lecture from Jay and we were assured there was one less speeder.
But Jay was at his best when—believe it or not—he was fundraising. He and I traveled throughout Iowa in the ‘80’s seeking funds for an endowed teaching position in the then Department of Religious Studies. A chair of Judaic Studies. We spent the better part of two years getting to know the relatively small but close Jewish community throughout the state. As one might guess, Jay was the consummate advocate for Iowa. Adamant and passionate about the School of Religion and most importantly the need to introduce many “non-Jews” into a better understanding of the faith. I often think that some of Jay’s Macbride Hall lectures were born from those early donor conversations. Many concerns and questions were asked of Jay. Some supportive. Some critical. But he responded to each person with thought, dignity, and a healthy dose of Jay’s conviction to the Jewish faith, and—most importantly—his dedication to teaching young minds. When one banking CEO asked Jay, “Rabbi, why should I support this chair?” Jay responded, “It is an investment in preserving Jewish history and culture. Plus, after taking my class, your future employees will be better human beings.” There was usually a pause at that point. Jay would then add “So, what’s that worth to you?” The campaign was a tremendous success and completed in record time.
There are so many “Jay stories” that I was fortunate to hear. Our time on the interstate together was a combination of Jewish history, a primer on the first five books of the Jewish Bible and a lot of current event debate. But most of all we laughed. Laughed at the uniqueness of people. How we are all so different. So quirky. Jay said in those days his goal was “…to bring the Jewish faith to life” among those students who had—in all likelihood—never met a Jew before arriving in Iowa City. Jay could be blunt but blunt for a reason. To make a point and to open the eyes of sleepy students. Thank goodness I was fully awake in those years we were together. That was his campaign gift to me.
MARK AND VICKIE GINSBERG
Jay was a presence like a hand on the back pushing forward. You knew he was always there and even if his hand wasn’t, his voice was. There are many memorable occasions in our lives, from the mid-70s until now, from attending his classes, to officiating family weddings, attending bar mitzvah's, speaking at funerals and special dedications, and even participating at a family Passover Seder. Jay’s voice resonated and still does. Jay always took the time to care for all those people and ideals he was passionate about. He has been a part of our lives and will continue to be remembered.
ROBERT AND LAURIE SILBER
Dear Jay (of blessed memory): You impacted so many people because of your passion for teaching which was manifested by your genuine charisma whether in the classroom or at Temple Judah in Cedar Rapids where you shared your Torah insights.Your legacy lives on in the many minds, hearts, and souls enriched by your encouragement of curiosity and critical thinking.
Laurie and I are forever grateful for our friendship and the opportunity to audit “Quest for Human Destiny” in 2012. You introduced me to the iceberg theory which continues to help me unpack hidden messages in the Hebrew Bible on my spiritual journey towards a life of greater meaning.
Moreover, this approach helped me take care of patients and teach GI fellows.
AMANDA MENNIE
In a bar on Sunday night before the start of my sophomore year, I met a man who would become my husband. While we were dancing, he told me he was pursuing majors in Philosophy, Religious Studies, and Psychology and that his name was David. I felt this was kind of insane and enough to merit an actual date. He eventually led me to Professor Holstein’s courses—on my part, out of equal parts curiosity and doubt. At that time, I was pursuing a degree in Genetics with a definite idea that I was going to pursue a life of research. It did not take too long in college before I felt awash and lost, with too
many reasons to state exactly why, but enough time and distance to say this is a common experience, even before meeting David. Professor Holstein’s courses at this time struck me like lightning—truth existed, but the ability of humans to ultimately reach it was daunting, deadly, questionable, fraught with the insoluble problems of being human itself. Yet, he did not leave me lost in the pit: he made me feel like I have agency in this world, that that matters, and that I should be fearless and relentless in my ability to pay attention to myself and my surroundings and my ability to try and make the world around me a better place as I understood that. I have never been struck by a teacher or a mentor as I have been by him. And this has resonated profoundly into my future, taught me how to guide myself through the endless hurdles and anxieties of life. Professor Holstein himself married me to that man I met in that bar on Sunday seventeen years ago. He is a very large reason for why I had the bravery and fortitude to pursue both an MD and PhD degree, and I know of no one who better exemplified the title of Professor and teacher.
DAVID MENNIE
It is difficult to put into words the impact that Professor Holstein had on his students’ hearts and minds. Upon entering his classroom, I was quickly confronted with questions about everything I thought I knew. He made quick work of piercing through the lull of the all-too-familiar, comforting, and often contradictory platitudes that I relied on. His lectures shook me awake; they questioned the illusory comforts of “certainty” and exposed the real dangers it can lead to. He introduced students to uncertainty—a confrontation that exposed a felt need for guidance, even as he taught us that “certain” guidance was always suspect.
He introduced us to his “friends”—the great minds of literature and film who offered guidance to those who found themselves perplexed in the (often hostile) seas of uncertainty. He taught students how to read these great stories, to explore different human possibilities, and to glimpse the profound, often hidden, arguments and insights of the authors who created them—perhaps even venturing to catch a lightning bolt hurled by the likes of Salinger, Hemingway, Melville, or the Biblical authors. He introduced us to the grand debates about how human beings are to make sense of an uncertain world as they navigate that all-too-brief journey toward the grave. At the center of it all was the spiritual legacy left by the authors and compilers of the Hebrew Bible. Professor Holstein taught us how the Hebrew Bible can speak to the most pressing issues human beings face here and now, but he also taught us to read the most profound and compelling critiques and alternatives to the way of life expounded by the biblical authors. He showed how the power and profundity of the debate between the Hebrew Bible and its adversaries have reverberated through philosophy, literature, and film to this day—debates which are taken up and renewed by the best and brightest of every generation. Through trying to understand these authors and their role in the great debate, he taught us the most vital skill for facing uncertainty: how to think.
It was clear that Professor Holstein was at home in the classroom and that he had a passion for teaching. His classes were full of laughter at his wit, followed by a deafening silence in response to a blunt, deeply provocative suggestion. His lectures mesmerized and stayed with you long after you left the classroom. I am sure that I am not alone in reporting that he sparked something in me that I simply cannot shake, try as I might. Now, as I begin to teach students of my own, I think back on my time with him and cannot overstate how dedicated he was to his students, nor how generous and tireless he was with his time, advice, and guidance. To this day, I do not know what it takes to be such a teacher as he was—such a light as that man. I only know that I cannot help but spend the time I have trying to find out.
RAY MENTZER
Jay Holstein was unique among the dozens of colleagues whom I have known in nearly fifty years of teaching at The University of Iowa and elsewhere. His singular talent was an ability to influence the conversation and to elicit reflective responses. He did not necessarily expect that you would agree with him. But he wanted to make his point and at the same time challenge you to think about it. Jay displayed this quality in his interactions with both colleagues and students. Like so many in the department, I deeply admired Jay’s hugely successful efforts in the classroom. Indeed, when I observed his teaching as part of our normal review process, I always came away impressed by his insights and energy. He and I also worked closely in other respects. He, for example, took the lead in restructuring course offerings and securing additional outside funds for the department. And when I stepped down as department chair, Jay and Ellen hosted a wonderful gathering in my honor. I found Jay supportive and encouraging in many ways and on many occasions. How could I not be grateful? Thank you, Jay.
A LIVING LEGACY: HOW CAN I BE A PART OF IT?
So, the memories shared above, of course, are about Jay Holstein; but they are not simply nostalgic reminiscences, rather, they are testimony to an experience of a kind of magic that can happen in human interaction and, if you are lucky, in the classroom. They are about a university and an academic department which claim an identity that is founded on the belief that knowledge is virtue and grounded in the mission to equip the citizens of Iowa, and others beyond our boundaries, in both academic inquiry and responsible action as a fruit of that inquiry. Jay Holstein dedicated his teaching to undergraduates and believed our democracy depends upon an educated citizenry, people who will embrace the challenge to look deeply into what motivates us and who believe in the complexity of other human beings...who earnestly seek to see the heart of things. They are memories shared to inspire us in our reflection and our action as we go forward.
For myself, there is a timeless quality about Jay’s lectures. As I return to them, they continue to speak to me and the struggles I face; they evoke a response from me that pierces through the murkiness, grounds me, and provides direction. And so, I am thrilled to tell you that the University of Iowa’s University Archives is currently at work preserving recorded lectures and course material from two of his courses: Quest for Human Destiny and The Bible and the Holocaust. We hope to make the material available, free to the general public, later this year in the Iowa Digital Library. If you would like to be on a mailing list to be notified when it is available, please send an email to: religion@uiowa.edu. Moreover, you will have the opportunity to financially contribute to his ongoing legacy: March 25, 2026 is One Day for Iowa—the University of Iowa’s 24-hour online giving day. This year, Hawkeyes will have the opportunity to support the Jay Holstein Scholarship Legacy Fund in honor of his enduring impact. Jay Holstein’s voice will continue to be heard and his teaching legacy continues.