Le défi d'Eric-Emmanuel SCHMITT ✍️ : de l'athéisme au christianisme 🙏

Eric-Emmanuel SCHMITT's Challenge ✍️: From Atheism to Christianity 🙏

What a joy to discover that one of my favorite authors, Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt, is the guest of honor at this year’s Meeting in Rimini! Are you familiar with this event currently taking place in Italy? Founded in 1980 by the Catholic movement Communion & Liberation, which I had the pleasure of learning about through my wife Letizia and her Italian friends, this gathering is much more than just a festival. It is a genuine melting pot where, every summer in Rimini on the Adriatic coast, people from all faiths come together, united by a common desire for friendship and fraternity among peoples. Imagine, over 80,000 visitors converge for this event each year, which is widely covered by the Italian television channel RAI.

I must confess that seeing Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt on this stage delights me immensely, and not just because he is Franco-Belgian. It is, above all, his profound and intense spiritual journey that resonates with me. Let me explain…

During my research on the history of Jerusalem for writing my book L’abondance tuera, a project that emerged after my pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago, I stumbled upon this author I was previously unfamiliar with. It was his book Le Défi de Jérusalem that first intrigued me, leading me to devour La Nuit de Feu and L’Évangile selon Pilate.

I’ve read all of Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt’s books because his story resonates deeply with me. Have you ever felt so close to an author’s experiences that it seems like they are recounting your own life? Like him, I began as an atheist, shaped by a French, Voltairean perspective on life, and was extremely skeptical of any form of religion. I didn’t believe in God, and even less in Jesus and His resurrection.

So you can imagine the "shock" when Letizia, my wife, introduced me to the Italian Catholic movement Communion & Liberation by giving me a book by its founder, Don Giussani. The first sentence hit me like a ton of bricks: "I am the truth," referring to Jesus. In France, such a statement is almost unbearable and seems nearly inconceivable. I closed the book immediately; those words felt downright insolent to me. Yet, it was through an ordeal, the disability of my daughter Carolina, that, at 33, I began to open myself to God, simply because I had no other choice.

As for Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt, he waited 28 years before beginning to open up. A philosopher, staunch atheist, and harsh critic of religions, he had a pivotal experience in 1989 during a hike in the Sahara Desert. Lost for about thirty hours in the vastness of the Hoggar Mountains, with no food or water, and unaware of where he was or if he would be found, he faced a night under the stars that he expected to be filled with dread. Instead, an immense force descended upon him, reassuring him, illuminating him, and guiding him. It was a night that changed his life. As Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt would later confess, "I was born twice, once in Lyon in 1960, and once in the Sahara in 1989." For me, my own rebirth began in 2012, at the age of 33, with the arrival of disability in my family.

Having started as an atheist, Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt emerged "almost" as a believer just ten days later. I say "almost" because fully accepting such a revelation is not straightforward, especially for a critical mind like his. He experienced what he described at the Meeting in Rimini as an encounter with the "God of all religions," but it took him time to truly process and understand this experience. I completely empathize with this. One might wish to forget everything and return to normal life, but that's no longer possible; this spiritual force has entered you and will not leave. As I wrote in my book L’abondance tuera: "What a gift, but also what a responsibility!" I assure you, this internal force can sometimes be very burdensome and may even frustrate those around you.

Indeed, Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt only shared this story 26 years later, in 2015, through his book La Nuit de Feu. Why wait so long to share his testimony? Perhaps he needed time to clarify and understand this profound experience before presenting it to the world. Did he fear the impact it might have on his career in France? It would be interesting to ask him, but I understand his hesitation. Even after such a deep experience, our critical minds often resurface, pushing us to question, doubt, and seek concrete answers.

As my mother told me in 2014, "I don't know who God and Jesus Christ are, but I'm sure they won't let you go!" She was right. I believe the same was true for Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt. In 2015, at the age of 55, he took the risk of being labeled a "Catholic" in France, which could have potentially closed doors for his career as a director and writer. But I genuinely think he didn't care. The Mystery (or rather the "God of all religions") had entered him, and Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt could only testify to this; it was beyond his control, as he powerfully conveyed at Rimini.

Nevertheless, both Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt and I have experienced a "Christianity of the intellect" after this spiritual force entered our lives. You can’t prevent a thorough "Voltairean Frenchman" from resuming his critical thinking and questioning that magical, grace-filled moment. Some things never change.

For my part, at 33, I had no more doubts about God, but Jesus Christ was another matter. Did He really exist? Did He really rise from the dead? This story seemed improbable. So, I began to read and search for answers. I had the fortune to visit Jerusalem five times for work and to feel the footsteps of Jesus in that holy city. In 2014, in Avila near Madrid, at an event organized by Communion & Liberation, I arrived with a simple yet profound question: "Why did You allow my daughter's disability, God and Jesus? It seems unfair!" As you know, during this event in Avila, I witnessed three priests celebrating Mass with a dramatic portrayal of Jesus on the Mount of Olives. It was overwhelming for me; I felt Jesus knocking at my door, a powerful gaze saying: "Do you believe in Me? I know this is not the life you wanted, but do you believe in Me?" Jesus knocked at my door, I let Him in, and He will never leave.

At 29, Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt, too, found himself grappling with the validity of Jesus and His resurrection. He read, researched, and questioned: "How could Jesus' body have disappeared? It seems inconceivable!" These inquiries inspired him to write the book The Gospel According to Pilate. The more he delved into this mystery, the more profound it became for him. Yet, his experience of this spiritual force remained, for him, a form of "intellectual Christianity." It’s challenging to believe in Jesus Christ for someone with a philosophical background as atheistic as his. As Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt aptly explained at Rimini, even with this inner force at work, he was still somewhat like Pilate, struggling to understand how God could incarnate as a human and how this human could die and resurrect.

The Gospel According to Pilate is certainly my favorite book by Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt to date. It’s somewhat provocative, reimagining Jewish and biblical scriptures, where Yeshua (Jesus) even experiences romantic love, and Pilate’s wife, Giulia, is captivated by the charisma of this young Yeshua. Schmitt adapted this work into a play, and despite its still "intellectual" nature, it ultimately won the hearts of France and Europe. This reached the Vatican's ears, leading them to invite Schmitt to explore his faith journey on the traces of Jesus in Jerusalem, as he had never visited this Holy Land before. Through this journey, Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt came to understand that his Yeshua was indeed real. He finally put a concrete face to the force and the Mystery he had encountered in 1989: "the God of all religions." In Jerusalem, at the Sepulcher, he also felt a powerful gaze from Jesus, his Yeshua. Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt perfectly described this experience at Rimini: "It was a powerful gaze upon me, a gift of Love, made out of Love. My body understood what I cannot explain intellectually. I still do not understand how God can become man, how Jesus can die and resurrect, but He is there, within me. I do not want an explanation of this Mystery; I just want to be with Him, to live it."

I couldn’t express it better myself: that’s exactly it! Imagine being a convinced atheist, a "French Voltairean," navigating life without any divine belief. Then one day, a spiritual force emerges within you, often through a profound trial. You’re bewildered, shaken to your core, and you realize that it’s God, the God of all religions. You become a believer, almost despite yourself. But then doubts resurface. Your faith, although genuine, remains rooted in spiritual and intellectual reflection. Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt and I have experienced this journey, I believe. Life granted us the "gift" of visiting Jerusalem, and there you sense Jesus, you see His traces, you believe in God and in Jesus, but you still struggle to call Him the "Son of God," because doing so requires believing in the improbable story of His resurrection.

You will never have the answer; the more you search, the greater and more confirmed the Mystery will become. At a certain point in your life, grace might come as an unexpected face-to-face encounter with Jesus Christ Himself. Should you open the door to Him? If you do, you can never go back. He will be in you, at home with you, and He will never leave, as my mother used to say. Your "spiritual, intellectual, philosophical Christianity" becomes a "carnal, physical, concrete Christianity," as Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt so aptly described in Rimini. Your faith, which was once spiritual, intellectual, and almost philosophical, then becomes a living, tangible, incarnate reality. It is both magical and overwhelming!

Jerusalem is a unique city, a true sacred enigma. It can help you put a face to God and experience the path of Christianity. But Jerusalem does much more than that. It goes far beyond; it embodies what Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt will call in Rimini: "the earthly provocation of God." Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt expressed this with particular force during the Meeting in Rimini: "Certainly, Jerusalem taught me to be a Christian not just intellectually but concretely, carnally. But it also taught me to respect and regard as my brother the Muslim, the Jew, or the atheist. Jerusalem is a land where God initially told men with a touch of insolence, 'Hear Me'; and today, with a hint of humor, says to those same men, 'Hear each other!'"

I was particularly struck by the introduction of Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt in his book Le défi de Jérusalem: "If you understand something about the situation in Jerusalem today, it means you’ve been badly informed." This sentence perfectly captures the inextricable complexity of this city; it is a promised land, but it’s unclear to whom it is promised. In his book, Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt describes Israel and Palestine as "the confrontation of two legitimacies." Two opposing camps, both of which are right in their own way. This is not simply a battle between good and evil, or between true and false. It is much deeper: these are two truths that paradoxically exclude each other. "Israel is right, Palestine is right," he writes.

To summarize, Schmitt highlights that Israel was given the land as a divine promise. However, after being expelled by the Babylonians in 587 BC and then by the Romans in 70 BC, the Jews were in exile for nearly two millennia. During this time, other peoples settled on the land, living under Roman and later Ottoman rule, and became predominantly Muslim, speaking Arabic or Turkish. When the State of Israel was proclaimed in 1948 with the support of the UN, these populations, who had lived there for centuries, rejected the proclamation. Consequently, a tragic cycle repeated itself: the Jews, once expelled by the Romans, returned and, in turn, expelled those who had occupied the land for generations. Thus, in the current conflict, as Schmitt points out: "Israel is right, Palestine is right." Of course, I do not wish to offend anyone by expressing this, but I must say that I share this perspective.

I am also convinced that Jerusalem is the key to humanity. This city, with all its complexity and spiritual weight, seems to be the stage where God’s "global" provocation plays out. While God's "individual" provocation manifests daily in our hearts, it is in Jerusalem that God seems to issue a broader call to humanity. Isn’t it significant that God chose this city for Jesus to come, to die, and to rise again? Even today, it seems that God is present at the heart of the conflict shaking Jerusalem. As Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt eloquently explained at the Rimini Meeting: "God calls us to fraternity in this city, where all religions coexist. And instead of uniting by directing our gaze towards Him, we are dividing and tearing each other apart." This reflection prompts me to question: are we capable of responding to this divine call for unity and fraternity? Or will we continue to be swept away by divisions and conflicts, losing sight of the Essential?

I share this vision completely. Fraternity is our common thread as humanity. It is this bond that drives us to question God, to ponder that mysterious force that seems to guide our lives. However, each of us must respond in our own way, according to our religion, our path, our journey. It is crucial that we all reflect on the meaning of life. Instead of distancing ourselves from this fundamental question, we should strive to engage with this Mystery, to explore it, to understand it. Unfortunately, the current detachment from this essential question leads us down a path that is not our own. Humanity loses its way, even resorting to violence, and this is the true evil of humanity.

For me, it is by questioning this vital issue that we can come closer to one another, in a spirit of fraternity. This question concerns each of us, and it is up to each person to provide their own answer. This is where the key to humanity lies, in this shared quest for meaning which, far from dividing us, should unite us.

Humanity remains free in the face of this Question, and I deeply believe that God will accept our collective response, whatever it may be, as I wrote in my book L'abondance tuera. Like Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt, I am convinced that this crucial Question is once again being posed to the entire world, and once again to Jerusalem.

God challenges us, provoking us anew, sometimes with humor, sometimes with insolence, and He awaits a collective human response, a response that will determine the future of our humanity. I believe this is a decisive moment where our freedom and fraternity are being tested. It is no longer just about individually choosing our Path, but about reflecting together on this Question, to forge a human way that could very well be our common salvation... or our end, depending on humanity's choice.

Reynald NAULLEAU

 

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