Christian fellowship and survival in prison

In 1948, after the communist regime came to power, it abolished and banned the Greek Catholic Church in order to sever the Romanians' ties with the Vatican and the Western world

Steliu Lambru, 09.02.2026, 11:27

The Romanian Church United with Rome, or the Greek Catholic Church, was established in the late 17th and early 18th centuries, during Austria’s efforts to counteract the proselytism of the Reformation. In exchange for recognition, new followers received political, educational, and religious rights. In the territories inhabited by Romanians, the Greek Catholic Church played an essential role in shaping national consciousness and produced many important intellectuals and politicians. In 1948, after the communist regime came to power, it abolished and banned the Greek Catholic Church in order to sever the Romanians’ ties with the Vatican and the Western world. Many Greek Catholic politicians and prelates were thrown into prisons, where they met with Orthodox and other Church colleagues and formed a trans-confessional solidarity.

Despite the persecution, people did not lose heart and continued to keep their faith. Greek Catholic priest Nicolae Lupea was a political prisoner in communist prisons. In 2001, he told the Oral History Center of Radio Romania that, despite the extreme living conditions in prisons, priests managed to celebrate divine service.

“On Sundays, in particular, Holy Mass was celebrated by the priests who were there in the prisons. They used wine that the prisoners obtained from various civilians who worked at the same place as the prisoners. And for bread, we used the black bread that the prison gave us.”

In the history of Romanian intellectuals under communism, one particularly noteworthy episode involves literary critic Nicolae Steinhardt. A Jew, he was imprisoned on charges of being close to a group of anti-communist intellectuals. And in that inhuman environment, he decided to convert to Christianity. Nicolae Lupea:

“I spent some time locked up with him, with Nicolae Steinhardt. I also spent time with Alexandru Paleologu, Dr. Al-George, several other personalities, and many other prisoners in a room in Jilava. There was also a priest there, a guy a little younger than me, named Mina Dobzeu, a monk from Bessarabia, who had been sentenced to seven years. Steinhardt was Jewish, around 60 years old, as far as I could tell, because he was gray-haired and bald. At one point, he got in touch with the Orthodox priest, but he also got in touch with me and told me he wanted to be baptized.

Steinhardt made the big decision of his life under the influence of his friends.

“On the morning of his baptism, he came to my bedside as soon as we got up and told me that he did not agree with the action against the Greek Catholic Church or with the Orthodox Church’s collaboration with the Securitate in banning our Church, the Greek Catholic Church. But he insisted on being baptized by Father Mina because he was Orthodox and Alecu, Alexandru Paleologu, was his friend. He wanted to be baptized in the Orthodox faith because, for better or worse, the Orthodox Church was not banned. “If I wanted to practice the Greek Catholic faith, I would have to come here with you, to be part of a banned religion.” And I said to him then: “All right, Mr. Steinhardt.”

But the communion between prisoners went beyond denominational differences. And Steinhardt’s baptism was a joint one.

“And then he went and told the Orthodox priest Mina Dobzeu about the conversation we had had. Dobzeu came to me, we took a jug of water together, and we both blessed that water. Each of us recited a formula that we knew by heart from the services we had celebrated before when blessing water. We knew them because we had no books to read. I remember that I used two formulas. I said: “But, Lord, Lover of mankind, come with the coming of Your Holy Spirit and bless this water! And give it the gift of redemption and the blessing of the Jordan, that it may be for your servant Nicholas for the forgiveness of sins, for the healing of soul and body.” And another formula was for the blessing of water. I made the sign of the cross in the water with my fingers and said: ”

Such a ceremony had to remain secret. Nicolae Lupea:

“And now we thought about how to baptize him? It was a transition room and it was overcrowded. We decided that Steinhardt should stay in the room and not go out for fresh air in the morning. They took us out to fetch water with that big bucket, to take the night’s feces to the courtyard, to an outhouse. And we decided this: Father Mina and I would come first, and he would go to the jug in which we had blessed the water. I would stand behind him to hide him from the others when he was baptized. He came quickly, Father Mina took the jug and poured a few drops of water on him three times and baptized him.

The baptism of Nicolae Steinhardt in prison by a Greek Catholic priest and an Orthodox priest is a shared testimony of faith and suffering. It was also a shared testimony of what makes us all human. (MI)