I got to know the God of Abraham and my Jewish identity when I was fourteen. Because we were Jewish, the Hungarian government barred us from school. That was a tremendous blow which raised many questions for me. I had no time to answer; survival took up all my energy, and I buried my questions in soil that I continue to till.
For their part, the Nazis gave us answers: “Jews are less than nothing.” For twelve months I shared the fate of these “nothings.” I met Jewish believers and Jewish nonbelievers. I heard them talk about God, but it was not very clear to me what difference there was between the God of the Nazis in whose name they were exterminating us, and the God whom the Jews were imploring. While I was being seared by injustice, these Jews were dying as they prayed to a God who seemed deaf.
At that time I did not understand anything, but their fervor and their trust in this God planted a question in me despite myself.
When I was nineteen, a woman’s face raised questions for me. I examined it for a long time before I approached her.
This face was presence, welcome, understanding, and decency. When she was around, the bite marks that I hid beneath a thick shell of silence were less painful.
I was very intrigued by the cross she wore around her neck: it prompted a dialogue which led me to read the Gospel and to discover Jesus. Through the face of this woman, I encountered the face of God calling me by my name.
For a long time I plodded on through highs and lows. I felt uncomfortable in the Church. Prayer in Latin was a serious obstacle for me. Then the liturgy of Holy Friday, which condemned the “treacherous Jews,” hit me hard. I wondered where was the brotherly love proclaimed by the Gospel?
All of that contradicted what I had discovered in the Gospel that I had been given. I had opened it at random and was touched and amazed when I read Matthew 25: “I was hungry and you gave me food, thirsty and you gave me water, naked and you clothed me.” I said to myself, “There’s someone I would like to know.” And He has not left my side since.
Thanks to the honest witnessing of all those with whom I have journeyed, all those who have opened the door to the Bible for me, thanks to the faith and the doubts of the young people I have met, the Jesus of the Gospel never stops asking me questions and bringing me discoveries each day.
My inner heaven changes, always moving toward the Name.