Called to Controversy (28 page)

Perhaps a more significant failure was Moishe's brief foray into the world of counseling. He and Al Vanderslick completed a course of study in counseling at the American Institute of Family Relations. Moishe then put a notice to that effect in the bulletin for the regular Sunday afternoon meeting at the mission center, and he also announced from the pulpit that he would be available for counseling. Three people sought his counseling help. He recalled,

I appreciated the insights that this course in counseling gave me. But I concluded that all that counselors can give is feedback based on what the client has told them, which may or may not provide an adequate basis for understanding the problem. And I guess I should have a higher view of it,
*
but I view my own attempt at counseling as one of my failures.

For one thing, I felt that my reasons for wanting to do it were wrong. I wanted to draw people so that I could minister to them, and I felt that the people would be more drawn to a counselor than a Bible teacher.

Of the three people who came for counseling, I only continued to see one, and that was a man who was basically having trouble getting a job, and I found I could be of some help to him. But I discovered that I really didn't want to be involved in any kind of counseling. I got out of the counseling mode and I got into the ministry mode where I could point to the Bible and say, “Thus says the Lord . . .”

One adjunct to Moishe's counseling studies was the battery of analytical tests required of the students. Moishe's test scores confirmed what others had told him—that he had chronic low-grade depression. Understanding this depression sheds significant light on Moishe's outlook and how he operated. He described his depression this way:

A low-grade depression involves a certain pessimism. It is almost a fear of being optimistic and of being disappointed. I'd rather be pessimistic and be [pleasantly] surprised. . . .

I would not say that I “suffer from depression.” People with this [low-grade] condition can smile, can enjoy themselves and other people—the overall outlook is not exactly bleak, but, you know, you go to bed at night and you find yourself thinking,
Thank God, no catastrophes happened today
.

My depression has more to do with expectations than a particularly painful feeling. My enthusiasm is a quiet enthusiasm. My optimism is a “maybe” thing. . . . Depression doesn't keep me from enjoying what is at hand. It keeps me from expecting or anticipating the enjoyment. And many things turn out better than I expect. . . .

That lack of expectation has led me to be cautious in everything. Sometimes it has cost me joy. But in a sense, the depression represents my character or, at least, feeds into my character.

It is easy to equate optimism with faith (God will provide) and pessimism with a lack thereof. Moishe was always optimistic about the big picture. He could enthusiastically proclaim his faith that “Jesus is coming again.” He could experience certain joy in knowing that whatever difficulties might come about, “All things work together for good to those who love him [Jesus] and are called according to his purposes” (Rom. 8:28). And if he knew that God was leading him to go here or expand there, he could have faith that God would provide. But though Moishe prayed and sought God's guidance, the times when he knew (and told others) that a particular decision was God's will were few.

Again, what he termed
practical piety
was a far more common aspect in his life and work than the occasional supernatural leadings. The infrequent instances when he knew God was speaking to him were more often warnings than encouragement.

Encouragement usually came in everyday ways, as a result of accomplishing the work that God apparently chose to bless. One of Moishe's greatest satisfactions during the ten years he ministered in Southern California was his part in developing more cooperative efforts among various ministries and ministers.

When Moishe arrived in Los Angeles in 1957, he didn't know what to expect from other ministries. At Northeastern he'd been taught that when a missionary comes to a new place, he or she should meet with others on the field and ask their help in fitting in with the work already being done.

When Moishe began making such visits, he discovered that various missions were in competition. They competed not only for funds but also for the attention and allegiance of Jewish people who might attend their meetings. Moishe recalled,

One mission invited me to speak, but their representative told me, “I don't want you to take any names and addresses of any people you meet here.” If I'd started out with the attitude that everybody should share everything since we're all here to do the same work, I would have been disappointed.

When I saw this competition, I realized that other ministries had interests to protect. My orientation changed, and I looked for ways to cooperate that showed I understood their interests. Instead of being disappointed when some were unfriendly, I was delighted to discover that some were very friendly and received me well.

Moishe was not the only one who was eager to foster a spirit of cooperation. Ron Fleming, a Presbyterian minister whose mother was Jewish, was like-minded. Fleming had been raised as a Jew and was deeply interested in the work of Jewish evangelism. He suggested getting the leaders of various missions together for a joint day of prayer and fasting on Yom Kippur.

So it was that seven or eight men, including Moishe, Ron Fleming, Marvin Jacobs, Emanuel Gitel, and Abe Schneider, got together at South Hollywood Presbyterian Church on the Day of Atonement to pray for the work of the gospel among Jewish people. Hank Vigeveno, then pastor of the church, was a Dutch Jew, and he also participated.

Moishe recalled it as a wonderful time of prayer and unity. It formed the basis for several cooperative efforts. For the next three or four years, this core group brought their constituents together annually for a Christ in the Passover banquet, a youth picnic, a Hannukah/Christmas event, and a high holiday service.

Moishe was doing what he loved best—meeting and sharing the gospel with Jewish people and helping others to do the same. He recalled, “By the middle sixties, I was recognized as somewhat of an expert in the field. If someone wanted to know how to do something in Jewish evangelism, they came to me. I could pretty much tell them what to do and how to do it.”

Thinking about whether his experience in sales made him a good missionary, Moishe had quite a bit to say:

In sales, there is an opener, a presentation, and a closer. There is a parallel when witnessing [telling others what Jesus has done], but there are important differences.

When you go to a car lot, the salesman who presents the car to you is different from the one who closes the deal. Some salesmen are just closers, and they have a whole technique that involves wearing you out. Now maybe not everyone does that, but many do and that's one way that salesmanship differs from ministry.

Basically, you [missionaries] look for people who are open and willing to discuss spiritual matters. You give an opening statement to many different people—“Let me ask you this, who do you think Jesus is?” If somebody says, “I don't care,” or “I don't want to talk about Jesus,” you don't go any further.

I never had any sense of personal achievement when people received Christ. I never felt that it was because I gave such a good presentation—there was something beyond me that was moving people. Either the Holy Spirit was at work to move them, or he was not at work. . . .

When you present the gospel, the thing that keeps most people from the Lord, even when they are interested, is the belief that it is not possible for them to receive Jesus—If they'll articulate that, the answer is always the same—God empowers us, don't you think God can take care of that? An evangelist can give reassurance and examples from the Bible and personal experience about what God will do. An evangelist can show people the possibilities they would not otherwise see. . . .

It is very important to avoid becoming a spiritual scalp hunter, running up a score, “I got another three souls this week—you know.” We didn't get anything. It's God that won the person to himself, and we were there to help.

Moishe always encouraged missionaries to invite people who were tracking with the message and seemed to believe the gospel to pray to receive the Lord. That simply means that a person declares to God that he or she believes the gospel and trusts God to forgive his or her sin based on Jesus' sacrificial death and resurrection. The prayer usually is brief and includes an understanding that to receive forgiveness in Christ implies a trust and surrender of one's life to become his disciple.

This prayer, or profession of faith, is (or at least can be) the beginning of a new life. But Moishe was always cautious about making such prayers the point at which he would rejoice. He would rejoice whenever he had a good opportunity to explain the gospel, to do the duty God had called him to do, but he did not rejoice any more than usual when someone prayed to receive Jesus. Moishe explained,

My particular joy has been that people I have forgotten from years and years ago, get in touch with me and say, “Do you remember me, you prayed with me, you led me to the Lord,” or “you helped me along.“ And when I hear that years after I ministered to the person, I always rejoice.

For example, in the year 2000, Jews for Jesus received an e-mail in response to a publication they mail to Jewish believers in Jesus:

About 35 years ago Moishe, or Martin as I knew him, was speaking at the Bel Air Presbyterian Church. …[M]y wife-to-be and I met with Martin who led me to believe in Y'shua. It's been a long time and I would look forward to seeing him again. Are there any articles or newsletters written by him? If so I would like to see them. Thanks.

Al & Judy

Even more encouraging than those voices from the past are those of people who remained in contact with Moishe since his ministry to them in the 60s.

Once such person is Sam Hart, who contributed the following descriptions of Moishe as he had known him for decades:

He couldn't have been more than thirty years old, maybe not even that, but people looked up to him. He just had a wisdom and a feeling of being approachable and being spiritual. I think that I could discuss anything with [him and] get an answer that had both wisdom and was godly but never “holier than thou.” . . .

I knew where I stood with him, he knew where he stood with me, you know. If he disagreed with me about something, he would tell me—and I would tell him, too! He was concerned for me and the family as a dear friend and when I shared concerns, he would contemplate, and then say, “Let's pray about that.”

Sam and his family were among many people who felt they had greatly benefited by Moishe's ministry. Daniel Fuchs, recognizing Moishe's success in Los Angeles, wanted to bring his vision and expertise back to the mission's headquarters in New York City. He felt that Moishe could organize, even revolutionize, the training program and the general missionary work. Ceil recalled with some embarrassment, “Daniel Fuchs came out from time to time to see how the work was going. And one time he sat down with Moishe and me and talked with us about the possibility of moving to New York. I remember being a little nonplussed about it. And I actually had the audacity to say to him, ‘Wow, that's a big step. You can't move people around like you move chess pieces.' I was probably overstepping myself to say that to the boss. But he wasn't
my
boss; he was Moishe's boss.”

Nevertheless, Ceil had determined long before then that she would never stand in the way of Moishe's calling. Once she saw that the plans were in motion, she acquiesced, though she was heartbroken to leave LA, along with the friends and the life she had built there over ten years.

Moishe also had reservations, but for different reasons, as will be seen in the following chapters. Yet the promotion that Daniel wanted him to take in 1967 was not one that Moishe could easily refuse without appearing to be disloyal or disinterested in the mission that had invested so much in him.

*
Mama Cohen's “Easy Brisket” recipe eventually turned up in the
Jews for Jesus Family Cookbook
, available through Purple Pomegranate Productions,
http://store.jewsforjesus.org
/.

*
The caveat, “I guess I should have a higher view of it,” might best be interpreted as Moishe's recognition that some Christian counselors genuinely help their clients. But he felt that the proliferation of counseling degrees rather than theology degrees from Bible schools and seminaries was not healthy, and that the potential for damage in this field was very high.

TWENTY

A good friend is one that tells you that you need to zip your fly or, if you're a woman, that your slip is showing.

—MOISHE ROSEN

M
oishe was enthusiastic about the Fellowship of Christian Testimonies to the Jews. (FCTJ), an organization of professionals concerned about Jewish evangelism.
*
As he prepared for their biannual convention, held that year at Nyack Missionary College, he wondered what would come of the day's deliberations.

He'd been asked to chair the program committee for the conference, a first for him with this group. He'd met with the program committee many months prior to the event and particularly appreciated the way everyone wanted to work together to have the best possible program, even if it meant that none of them would be on the speaking platform.