Called to Controversy (38 page)

Moishe understood that many chose not to describe themselves as Christians because being Jewish and Christian are commonly considered mutually exclusive. But he “refused to refuse” to allow his Jewish identity to separate him from Gentiles who were following the Jewish Messiah and who, as a result, loved the Jewish people. He made his feelings known both privately and publicly, which did not endear him to those who saw things differently. One can only imagine the chagrin of those who believed it necessary to say “Yeshua,” not “Jesus,” when they were continually referred to in the press as “Jews for Jesus.”

The world of Jewish believers in Yeshua (Jesus)—as relatively small a world as it is—has its share of divisions, just as the larger communities of Jewish people who don't believe in Jesus do. Within the world of Jewish believers in Jesus, Moishe did not see himself as either the cause or the potential solution to these divisions. Some, no doubt, would disagree.

In any case, it is not unusual for people of influence who see things differently from one another to butt heads. That certainly seemed to be the case with Moishe and certain other influential people in the movement of Jewish believers. Yet he was also an encourager and supporter of many in the movement and was quick to recognize the talents of others, including the music group Lamb. Accordingly, when Moishe was invited to speak at the Chicagoland Messianic Rally, he let the rally organizers know that he thought a concert by a music team called Lamb would enhance the program and that he would like them to share the platform and sing before he got up to speak. Further, he respected the group's abilities enough to employ their help in producing the first Liberated Wailing Wall album. (The album was the project noted earlier that helped lift Moishe out of his depression.)

Moishe felt that the Liberated Wailing Wall (a mobile evangelistic music team) was one of the most valuable assets that Jews for Jesus had brought to the ABMJ while the group was still under their auspices. Most of the team's songs were written by Stuart Dauermann, though many others in the group contributed music and lyrics. Because
Fiddler on the Roof
was very popular at the time, most people, whether or not they were Jewish, could immediately recognize the Jewish sound of the Liberated Wailing Wall. As for the lyrics, they were from Scripture, whether from the Psalms, Hebrew prophets, Gospels, or Epistles. The Liberated Wailing Wall raised Christian awareness, not only of Jews for Jesus but of the need for Jewish evangelism. It also spoke to the hearts of many Jewish and gentile seekers—who began following Jesus as a result. And so, at a time when his income was still rather precarious, Moishe used his own money to produce the first Liberated Wailing Wall album.

Some may wonder how Moishe's relationship with his daughters fared throughout the 1970s when he was investing so much time and energy in Jews for Jesus. Children of visionaries may feel overlooked or left out, as many biographies and autobiographies attest. Moishe never pushed either of his daughters to do what he was doing, but he welcomed both to be as involved in the world of Jews for Jesus as we cared to be. This was true both before and after the mission became independent.

As a speech and drama major, Lyn was particularly interested in the evangelistic street theater the group was pioneering. Eventually she became part of the New Jerusalem Players. She recalled,

When Dad lost his job he never made me feel like there was anything I needed to do without. I really enjoyed the four of us around the [dinner] table. He often brought home a dinner guest and there was always enough [to eat]. He never acted like he expected me to be part of his ministry, but whenever I wanted to be part of what he was doing, he was always happy to have my participation.

As for me, I was fairly strong and outspoken in my beliefs and went on several of the demonstrations. However, I withdrew for almost a year, during which time I was not interested in anything connected with God. This had nothing to do with my relationship with my father—it was just normal teenage “stuff” that included dating a boy my parents did not approve of.

Later, when I was once again strong in my faith, Moishe asked me if I would like to join the Summer Witnessing Campaign in New York. “No, not really,” was my reply. Eventually I agreed to go—not because I was interested but because that year (and it was the only year) the New York campaign was only two weeks, and I felt it would make him happy. It turned out to be a life-changing experience that led me to transfer from a liberal arts school to a Bible college and eventually join the staff of Jews for Jesus. This seemed as unexpected a turn of events to Moishe as it was to me.

By that time, Lyn was fully involved with Jews for Jesus. Moishe was surprised and delighted that both of his daughters felt God leading them into the ministry that meant so much to him.

Not only that, but shortly after Lyn's graduation, a young Oklahoman made his way out to California. Alan Bond had been dating Lyn during her last year of school. Knowing that he had been president of his church youth group, she had assumed that he was a Christian. As their relationship became serious, however, Lyn realized that for Alan, Christianity was simply part of his culture, not a life-changing belief in Jesus.

Lyn was miserable. Feeling that she could not marry a man who did not understand or share the faith that was such a central part of her life, she had prayerfully determined to break off the relationship after six months unless he had a change of heart. Totally unaware of Lyn's decision, for the first time in his life Alan began to think seriously about what it meant to be a Christian. Before the six months ended, Baruch Goldstein had led Alan in a prayer of faith in Jesus. Alan and Lyn were married in June 1974, and in September 1975 both joined the staff of Jews for Jesus.

Lyn recalled,

When we asked Dad if he would perform our wedding ceremony, he [declined and] said, “I want to be the father of the bride and enjoy the wedding.” But he did write the wedding service for us.

I will never forget how, before the service on our wedding day, Dad disappeared with our best man, Tuvya, to collect the mail. I couldn't figure out if the mail was really that important—or if Dad was just a tad nervous, and didn't quite know how [else to] wait for the service.

Ceil, already in her mother-of-the-bride dress, tending to last-minute details, was totally unaware of Moishe's brief disappearance. It was just as well.

*
Meaning a T-shirt or jacket bearing the words “Jews for Jesus.”

TWENTY-FIVE

The way that I understand anger is that it's a God-given emotion, and its purpose is to energize us to do the right thing; one's temper is something that one uses, not loses.

—MOISHE ROSEN

O
ver the hum of an old air conditioner and the muted yet audible din of street traffic and sirens, a loud voice burst from the other side of a closed office door. The words were muffled, but the tone was unmistakable. Raising a worried eyebrow, Susan Perlman winced and held her breath, straining to listen. The loud voice belonged to her beloved Great Uncle Gutel, who was engaged rather heatedly in conversation with Moishe Rosen.

Gutel, a regional director for the Jewish National Fund, had spent much of his adult life raising money to reforest Israel. A devout pillar of the Jewish community, he was very upset that Susan had come to faith in Jesus, and worse yet, was associated with the nefarious Jews for Jesus that he'd read about in the
Jewish Press
. He blamed Moishe for Susan's move from New York to California and for changing her life. When Uncle Gutel had learned that the notorious Moishe was coming to New York (for the first ever Jews for Jesus Summer Witnessing Campaign), he had asked for an appointment with him.

Now the two were alone in the room that served as Moishe's temporary office, and who knew what might happen next? Uncle Gutel was not only elderly, but very excitable. Susan feared he would get so agitated that he would have a heart attack.

Her worry only increased when a second loud voice interrupted the first, its cadence punctuated by the stutter that sometimes invaded Moishe's speech when his mind moved faster than his mouth—or when he was trying to get a word in edgewise. But to Susan's great relief, the shouting only lasted a minute, before both voices suddenly decreased in volume. Could they actually be having a calm, civilized conversation? The two were in there for a long time while Susan sat in the other room, alternately worrying and trying to concentrate on her work. At last the door opened, and Uncle Gutel came out.

Moishe's bulky six-foot one-inch frame appeared in the doorway, his expression thoughtful.

“So, Moishe, what happened?” The tightness of Susan's attempt at a light tone betrayed the concern underlying her curiosity.

Moishe smiled reassuringly. “You know, Sue, I learned a lot from your uncle. After he calmed down, I asked him how he went about raising money for the Jewish National Fund. He said he always tried to let people know personally how much he appreciated their support and encouragement. That's something I've always felt was important, so I asked what he did to express his appreciation.

“I guess you know that since your uncle doesn't drive, he's always taking trains and buses to visit people and make presentations for the cause. Well, he told me how he put those travel times to use. He'd buy postcards, and while he rode along, he'd write personal notes thanking donors he'd met in previous places. It became a regular part of his routine, sending those handwritten, personal postcards. I think that's a great idea, don't you? Maybe we should be writing personal postcards to our donors.”

“Yeah, okay, but . . . you two . . . you parted as friends?” Susan was pleased that Moishe liked her uncle's postcard idea, but she was a lot more interested in how her uncle had responded to Moishe.

“Well, I don't know that your uncle would appreciate being referred to as my friend, but I think he would agree that we are now at least respectful and cordial acquaintances. Your uncle is a wise man who understands how to relate to people. I think I'd like us to try out that donor postcard thing.”

Susan smiled with relief. “I guess it went well. That's a real answer to prayer. And . . . about the postcards, Moishe . . . , I think you're right. It just might work for Jews for Jesus, too—
if
you can get people to do it.”

One of Moishe's strengths was his ability to recognize when people had something worthwhile to teach him, regardless of differences in age, experience, or belief. Throughout the 1970s, Moishe not only taught, but continued to learn many lessons.

Some of his sources of information proved controversial. Early on, Susan Perlman brought Saul Alinsky's book
Rules for Radicals
to Moishe's attention, when a friend showed it to her with the suggestion “some of this might apply to what you guys are doing.” Moishe read the book, saw its value, and shared it with the leadership team. All agreed that while much of it must be discarded as inappropriate for followers of Jesus, some of the “rules” could translate well into the group's strategies, particularly in responding to opposition. These principles, such as “make your opposition live up to their own standards” and “de-personalize hostility” were perfectly ethical. However, the fact that they were found in a book that also contained objectionable ideologies and practices became a matter of controversy among Moishe's critics.

Some of the lessons Moishe learned were serendipitous, coming when he least expected them. It was his personal policy to meet any relatives of the early Jews for Jesus who were willing to see him if they came to town, or if he was traveling to their area. He always parlayed such meetings into opportunities to commend the staff person to his or her parents or other relatives. He knew that many had grave misgivings about family members being involved in Jews for Jesus, in large part because of the outrageous claims made in the press by anti-missionaries. Moishe wanted to give relatives an opportunity to meet him and ask questions, balancing what they had read with firsthand experience so they could draw their own conclusions. He also wanted to be available to discuss Jesus, knowing that many people find it easier to discuss such matters with nonfamily members.

And so it was that Moishe had met and learned something from Susan Perlman's great uncle. As Susan recalled, “It wasn't all that long after [Moishe's meeting with Uncle Gutel] that we started writing personal communications on postcards to our donors.”