1/
I’ve been spending time with the testimonies of Holocaust survivors in Israel lately. Their stories are harrowing, vital, and deeply Zionist. But as I read them, I feel a strange, quiet friction. 🧵 #History #Identity #Europe
2/
I live in Germany. I’m a Catholic convert. My life is rooted in the "Old World." When I hear these stories, there is a narrative of inevitable departure—the idea that Europe was a dead end and Israel was the only answer. But for me, the pull is different.
3/
I just want a normal life in Germany. It feels like an unpopular thing to say in the context of this history, but it’s the truth. And historically, I’m not alone. Before 1939, the idea that every Polish Jew was a Zionist is a bit of a myth.
4/
Poland was home to millions who weren’t looking for an exit. There were the Bundists (who believed in "Hereness"), the assimilationists, and the professionals who saw themselves as purely European. They loved their cities. They weren't all "packing their bags" in their hearts.
5/
The Holocaust created a massive rupture. For those who went to Israel, the "European experiment" had failed. Their stories reflect that trauma—the feeling of being betrayed by their neighbors. In that light, Zionism wasn't just politics; it was survival.
6/
But what about those of us who stay? Or those of us who find a different spiritual or cultural path within Europe? Choosing to be Catholic in Germany with this background feels like a quiet act of reclamation. It’s a refusal to let the rupture be the final word.
7/
Is it possible to honor the memory of those who left while asserting that "here" is still home? I think so. Living a "normal life" in Germany isn't a denial of history—it’s a different way of carrying it. 🇩🇪✨ #Reflections #Germany #Catholicism #JewishHeritage