Fellow Mourners, Reverend Bishops, Brothers and Sisters,
It is with heavy hearts that we stand here beside the coffin of our bishop, Géza Erdélyi. Personal loss is painful. It always is. The closer someone is to us, the more painful it is. And Bishop Géza Erdélyi was close to us. But there is more to it than that. For our lives to be secure, we need people in whom we can always trust and who will always stand by us – even when life sweeps us away from each other, even when we have not spoken in a long time. You know that somewhere in Felvidék, in the town of Rimaszombat/Rimavská Sobota, in Sídlisko Rimava, there is a person who will help you when you are in trouble, who will strengthen you when you are uncertain, who will support you when your strength is waning, who will console you when you have erred. There are people whom Providence has chosen to offer all this not just to one or some of us, but to all of us. They are not only shepherds, but also pillars of strength on whom an entire community can rely. Bishop Géza Erdélyi was one such person. Therefore his loss is felt by all of us: the Reformed Church, the Hungarian community in Felvidék, and the entire Hungarian nation. In difficult times, amid the storms of political change, he stood at the forefront of the Hungarian Reformed Church in Felvidék. He had to lead at a time when the Hungarian community in Felvidék had to learn once again to hold their heads high after decades of being silenced and the inhumane decrees of the communist regime; when they had to regain not only their churches and schools, but also their self-awareness, self-respect and self-confidence. So that things could once more be as they used to be. He worked to ensure that the Hungarians of Felvidék could once again find a home in their homeland, where they could speak, learn and pray in their mother tongue. Today we can clearly see that without his work, the foundation on which we built after 2010 would not have been possible. In the long history of Hungarian Reformed Christianity, there have been great times and difficult moments. Bishop Géza Erdélyi was one of those who showed their greatness in times of oppression. Even in trying times, he remained a servant of God and the Hungarian people. He can be placed in that great chain of figures, from Gábor Bethlen to László Ravasz, who always knew that the cause of faith is also the cause of the nation. As the Fundamental Law of Hungary declares: “We recognise the role of Christianity in preserving nationhood.”
Fellow Mourners,
Even now, as I speak, I can see the look in his eyes. Those who knew him from afar saw a gentle, devout and kind man. He was soft-spoken, a man of peace who radiated calm. Yet those who paid closer attention quickly sensed that this gentleness was not weakness, but disciplined strength. He was like basalt: smooth to the touch, but unbreakable. He was utterly steadfast. When it came to the truth of the Hungarian people or the church, he knew no compromise. He knew that the shepherd’s crook is not only for support, but also to protect the flock from wolves. It was this quiet, steely demeanour that commanded respect among friends and opponents alike. I am grateful to Providence that I was among those who were able to respect him not only as a church organiser and bishop, but also as a scholar. We corresponded, and he shared with me his thoughts on Hungarian identity, Christianity and Europe. We agreed that it is a false doctrine to say that the things of God belong only to the Church, and that the things of the world belong only to politics. Our opponents talk daily about the separation of church and state, but we know very well that what they really mean is the banishment of Christianity from public life, and the removal of God from history and from the great epic that is the survival of the Hungarian people. They see only blind luck in our continued existence here after a thousand years, living as Hungarians and Christians in the heart of Europe. Géza Erdélyi knew and proclaimed that nations also have a mission. He also knew that this is a great defining test: a philosophical and political test that separates and selects from among God’s servants those who see, understand and practice as a unity Christianity and the nation, Jesus Christ and the affairs of the homeland. The Hungarian mission is inseparable from our Christian identity. As the Hungarian constitution wisely states, avoiding the cunning liberal trap of separation: “The State and the religious communities shall operate separately.” The goals may be shared, according to the beliefs of the particular government leading the state, but the means, methods and paths will always be different. As one of our bishops advised, “We must win gently, like the wind.” And indeed, the pastor, the spiritual leader, the bishop wins gently. He convinces the lost sheep, confronts evil, overcomes his own uncertainty – and always with spiritual weapons. This is not always possible for us, the cage fighters of public life. We often move forward against headwinds and build in the midst of a storm. Gentleness is not always effective; we often need toughness, and sometimes even ruthlessness – even towards ourselves. But we must know that the future of the Hungarian people cannot be built on the ruthlessness of politics, the insensitivity of public life, or even the raw truth of reason. Even in the most tense of times, indeed especially in such times, the national community needs the balancing spirit of gentle people: people who, even in the heat of the moment, remind us that the future of the nation can only be built on love, following the example of Jesus Christ. Bishop Géza Erdélyi’s gentle strength was needed by his church, it was needed by his nation, and it is and will be needed by all of us.
Fellow Mourners,
In the spring of 2005 Hungary awarded Bishop Erdélyi a state honour for his services to the Hungarian people. History, however, decreed that the award would be presented after the referendum on 5 December that year. This was the referendum in which the left-wing government of the day turned against Hungarians living beyond the borders. Géza did not accept the award from the prime minister at that time. When asked why he had made this decision, he replied that he was very pleased to receive the award from Hungary and would accept it from anyone, but – and I quote – “Afterwards, how could I look my congregation in the eye?” It was as simple as that – without beating about the bush and with emphatic finality. This single sentence sums up his entire life: not glory, not protocol, not bending to changing political winds, not in line with momentary interests. Only one standard: the regard of the congregation. The trust of the community. Standing upright before God. That natural, self-evident, unconditional loyalty without which a nation cannot survive: “Here I stand; I can do no other.” Who knows for how many centuries the faith of the long line of Géza Erdélyis has sustained the Hungarian people? Upon receiving the Hungarian Heritage Award, he said: “We have experienced many forms of oppression, we have always had to walk into a headwind, but now I say to all young people that it is worth it, because this is how you can remain true to yourself and stay on your feet.”
Fellow Mourners,
The Holy Scriptures teach us that the life of a righteous person does not end with their earthly farewell. Before the Lord there is no passing away, only homecoming. We now bid farewell to Bishop Erdélyi with sorrow, but we know that those who have placed their lives in God’s hands will be lifted up into eternal light. Therefore today is not only a loss, but also a fulfilment: Bishop Erdélyi, our bishop, you fought the good fight, ran your race, and kept the faith. We thank you for teaching us through your sermons and proving through your life that faith is not simply a palliative, but a source of strength; that being Hungarian is not a choice, but a mission that can best be fulfilled in the palm of God’s hand. Now, as we accompany you to your final resting place, we know that we must accept a legacy. We know that we cannot lock it away in a casket: it is a legacy that we must always keep with us and, above all, carry in our hearts – so that, following your example, we too may be gentle and unyielding, and gently triumph, like the wind.
Dear Brother Géza, we will try. Bishop Erdélyi, thank you for your service. It was an honour to fight alongside you. Rest in peace.
Soli Deo gloria!
