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I HAVE TO TELL YOU ALL ABOUT MY BAD EXPERIENCE IN CATHOLIC SCHOOL.

I was a bad kid in school.

My parents tried Yeshiva in Bnei Brek. They tried public school at Gush Katif. They even tried a military boarding school up in the Golan.

I still misbehaved. I still got terrible grades.

Finally, in desperation, they sent me to Roman Catholic all-boys school in Judea.

I thrived. I was getting great grades, was well-liked by the teachers and students, and even did well in sports. No complaints.

In fact, I had the highest GPA in the school and was on track to be valedictorian.

One day, I was called to the Bishop’s office. He was sitting there with my Rabbi. Rabbi Shulman. They had clearly been talking.

I sat down on the chair they indicated.

Rabbi Shulman stroked his beard, puzzled, and asked, “You come from a good Jewish family. You’re sabra Israeli. You did terrible in school until you got here, a Roman Catholic school. Tell me why does a nice Jewish boy finally do well in a Catholic school?”

I leaned forward, and covertly pointed to the graphic crucifix hanging above the Bishop’s desk.

“Rabbi,” I whispered, still pointing to the crucifix. “See what these Romans did to the last Israeli boy who misbehaved?”