Christian Gálvez: “My conversion began with the way my wife loved me.”

Behind Christian Gálvez's television persona lies a passionate lover of history, literature, and the search for meaning. The presenter and writer's career—with novels, historical essays, and children's literature under his belt—has evolved toward increasingly personal and profound territories. After exploring the Renaissance and 20th-century Europe, in recent years he has turned his attention to the era of Jesus of Nazareth, captured in his book I called you by your name (2024) and in November 2025 he published Lucas, thus delving into the figure of the evangelist who, according to Christian, shows “a profile of the merciful Jesus, the Jesus of my faith".

It is no coincidence that Christian writes about the origins of Christianity, since he has undergone a powerful conversion. 

After years away from the faith, his return began with the help of his wife, Patricia, and was cemented during a trip to Jerusalem where, he says, the Gospel ceased to be theory and became a living experience. 

In this interview, Christian speaks openly about his conversion, how he has rebuilt his relationship with God, and how he has integrated his faith into his daily life and his work as a communicator. 

After so many years away from faith, how would you describe your conversion process and your openness to God? Was it a journey of reason, an emotional or spiritual awakening?

—My conversion was a mixture of all three things, but above all, it was a return to love. I could say that there was reason, because I needed to understand, and that there was emotion, because there were moments that overwhelmed me, but if I am honest, my conversion process began with the way my wife loved me. Her patience, her clear gaze, her ability to accompany me without judging me... that opened up a space inside me that had been closed for years. Perhaps God used her to touch my life again. I always say that my encounter with faith has a name: Patricia.

You say that your faith was reborn in Jerusalem. What happened there that hadn't happened on other trips or in other readings?

Jerusalem was very important because there everything ceased to be theory and became reality. I had been reading, researching, studying... even denying for years, but in Jerusalem, the Gospel ceased to be a text and became a face. That trip was only possible because I was already accompanied by a love that was transforming me from within. Patricia helped me reconcile with myself, with my history, with my doubts, and with my fears. And when you travel to the Holy Land with a heart like that, the experience changes. It was there that I understood that faith is not a concept: it is a Person who looks at you and loves you.

You say that as a child you were a believer. How does the God you worshipped as a child differ from the Jesus you approach today? What has changed in your view of God that has invited you to follow him?

—As a child, I believed almost naturally. Faith was part of the environment, of the family, of life. I saw God as a distant, protective father, but without a personal relationship. It was the innocent faith of someone who had not yet asked questions, but had not suffered any major blows either.

In adolescence and early youth, Trojan horse He came into my life like an emotional earthquake. He awakened something that had been dormant: my curiosity about the human figure of Jesus. Benítez showed me a Jesus who was alive, approachable, and deeply human. That interest led to a more mature, more reflective, and more intimate faith than the one I had as a child.

But there came a moment in my life that cast a shadow over everything. A very difficult moment. While preparing a documentary on sex tourism in Cambodia, I witnessed a brutal reality: broken children, shattered lives, an evil that could not be categorized emotionally. For me, it was a spiritual crack.
I asked myself: How can God allow this? And that impact led me, little by little, almost without my realizing it, to lose my faith.

I stopped praying, I stopped searching, I stopped believing. I was left with silence, pain, and many questions. And then, years later, what I always say was my true miracle appeared: my wife. Patricia didn't come to convince me of anything, or to preach to me, or to push me to believe again. She came to love me. To accompany me without judgment. To show me, through her way of being, the kind of love that I could no longer find anywhere else. And it was that love that began to rebuild me from within. Through her, I drew closer to Jesus again.

What has it meant for you to publicly acknowledge that you are a believer? Have you experienced any cancellation or rejection in your professional or personal life?

—Publicly acknowledging that I am a believer was an act of consistency. I work in communications; it would be absurd to hide something that gives meaning to my life today. Has there been criticism? Not much. Any ironic comments or strange gestures? Yes. But I haven't suffered any “cancellation,” either professionally or personally. And, honestly, even if there were rejection, the inner peace that comes from living what I believe to be true makes up for everything. Besides, I have a woman by my side who reminds me every day that love and faith are not to be hidden, but lived.

The Jesus of Lucas He is a Jesus who is close, simple, and merciful to the forgotten. Do you think that this Jesus and his love are also forgotten? After encountering his immense love, how do you feel called to make him known?

—I think so, that Jesus sometimes disappears amid debates and noise that have nothing to do with Him. The Jesus of Lucas It is the Jesus who draws near, who touches, who listens, who dignifies. That is the Jesus of my faith. And I see it as my responsibility to show a face of Jesus who heals, who embraces, who forgives, because I share Luke's vision. My tool? What I know how to do: tell stories. If my books, my programs, or my interviews can help someone discover a Jesus who is close to them, then my dedication will have been meaningful.

You talk about Luke's invisibility. About how he makes himself invisible to make way for the light of Jesus. How do you experience that tension between being a familiar face and, at the same time, aspiring to that inner invisibility that Luke proposes?

—Lucas has taught me something crucial: it's not about disappearing, but about being transparent. When people see me, they should also see, or above all, what moves me inside. And here I return to my wife: she helps me keep my feet on the ground, reminding me that I'm not here to shine, but to share. The greatest thing I can do is to ensure that the light is not mine, but ours.

Have you received any messages or do you know of any cases of people who, as a result of your work or your personal story, have also embarked on a journey of faith?

—Yes, and I still get excited every time it happens. People who tell me that, as a result of I have called you by your name, or after listening to an interview, they have returned to their faith, or decided to reconcile with God, or simply begun to ask themselves questions that had been buried. These stories move me deeply. And I feel that, deep down, it is not my doing: if something touches someone's heart, it is because it touched mine first.