From the moment I had a mind of my own, I knew there was no all-knowing, all-powerful, all-loving God. In Eastern Europe under the Stalinist regimes there used to be a saying: “You can be honest or intelligent or be a member of the Communist Party. In fact, you can be any two of the three, but not all three at the same time.” In the same way, I understood that God could be all-knowing and all-powerful, but not all-loving. How else to explain the murder of my grandparents in the gas chambers of Auschwitz or my own near-death as an infant in the Budapest ghetto? Or God can be all-loving and
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