Two flash portraits of two of the most interesting people I met in Hungary—and a really quick note:
First: Daniel Szabo, in his 80s, an elfin man, and the 1996 recipient of the E.H. Johnson Award for cutting-edge mission for his work with the Roma. Locals joke it is impossible to give him a gift because he’ll just turn around and give it to the Roma.
Szabo was denied access to his seminary graduation more than half a century ago because of his thesis paper, in which he argued that pastors should preach the gospel and not take sides with political parties. From what I understand Szabo was not saying pastors should not be involved in political or social issues; he certainly sees the Bible as an active living document. Back when he was a younger man, the politics were dangerous. His country was caught in the geopolitics of the times between fascists, communists, freedom fighters and many other tensions. In those times, Szabo called for scriptural adherence.
It cost him his career as pastor; he found a different living as a lay leader within the Hungarian Reformed Church. Here’s a man who has born in the shadow of the Great War when his country was carved by the League of Nations, through the Second World War, under the Nazis and then the Soviets. And over dinner, if you are so blessed to sit beside him, he’ll tell you this: Empires come and go; scripture is constant.
Second: Dóra Kanizsai-Nagy is the head of the refugee ministries for the Reformed Church in Hungary. She has been a passionate voice for asylum seekers in Hungary, working with refugees for many years. When a World Council of Churches delegation passed through Budapest she proudly took them to a restaurant owned by a Bangladeshi family she had worked with and helped settle.
In an interview she did for her denomination’s website she said: “Recognized refugees look upon themselves as guests: they got a new chance in a safe country where they can let their children go to the school and the child comes back in the afternoon without getting exploded on the street. A basic principle of the refugee mission is that we look upon these people as guests too—not as people in need, not as ill people, not as wounded puppies—but as people for whom we try to provide every means to start a new life.”
That brings the gospels alive for me. That tells me who I am as a Christian. It is, as in all things, the way faith changes your perspective.
Kanizsai-Nagy’s work has often been done within the walls of St. Columba Scottish Mission, an English Presbyterian congregation in Budapest. That’s where I met her talking about her financially challenged ministry. Just as the needs grew, the funding streams dried. That’s often the case when doing advocacy work.
I went to St. Columba for worship on my last Sunday. I had been across Hungary and Ukraine, to borders and had many experiences and adventures, and attended a few services. But I felt absolutely at home with a Presbyterian liturgy. It was my most comfortable hour.
Gospel, advocacy and worship—faith, works and praise. That was a rich walk with Jesus in a strange land.
