Tragedy and grace in Tel Aviv

Who did not hear about the tragedy that took place on Sunday, August 4, when someone discovered inside an abandoned suitcase in Tel Aviv the remains of the dismembered and unrecognizable body of a woman? Since then, the woman was been identified, her relatives contacted and the murderer imprisoned.

The woman, Ilona Dienes, 45 years old, was a widow. A Hungarian from Rumania, she was Catholic. Her only daughter, 24 years old, who is also named Ilona Dienes, came to Israel for the cremation of her mother, planning a funeral service in her village of origin. She asked the Rumanian Embassy that a Hungarian speaking priest might go to the central morgue in Tel Aviv to pray for the salvation of her mother. They contacted Father Cristian Vacaru, chaplain for the Rumanians in Israel, who then contacted me, asking me to present myself for the liturgical ritual to accompany the dead, which took place on Friday morning, August 23.

The Gospel of Saint Matthew (27:57-60), telling that Joseph of Arimathea, with Pilate’s permission, arranged the burial of Jesus, became a source of light, consolation and hope for our little assembly gathered in the morgue. Were we not doing for Ilona what Joseph of Arimathea did for Jesus? Together, we remembered the baptism of the deceased: a white shroud, a candle, a crucifix, blessed water, incense, and we interceded for the deceased and her relatives and we then prayed the Our Father. Would not Ilona one day leave her tomb and join the banquet of the Kingdom, where Jesus is engaged in preparing a place for his disciple? Let us be united in prayer…

As for me, I would never have imagined that one day I would be contacted by a Rumanian priest, in English and then in Italian, not knowing that I was French Canadian who speaks Hungarian, and me not knowing that he speaks French, asking for my help to find a Hungarian speaking priest to do a funeral service for a Hungarian from Rumania, murdered by a man with Turkish citizenship. Who would have said that at this liturgy we would find five people of three different nationalities: two Israelis (the forensic surgeon and the driver at my disposition), two Hungarians from Rumania (Ilona, daughter of the deceased and a neighbor, friend of the mother) and me (French Canadian). As to the driver, he was born to a Jewish father and a Rumanian Orthodox mother in Rumania and became a Canadian citizen and then he immigrated with his family to Israel. As for the forensic surgeon, he was born in Rumania to a Jewish father and a Protestant mother. Our conversation passed from Hebrew to Hungarian to Rumanian to English. How many wars had taken place before we reached the moment of celebrating this liturgy together.