Called to Controversy

by Ruth Rosen

  Miriam finished her year in Israel, came out to visit, and liked what she saw. She recalled,

  There was lots of energy and excitement so when Moishe invited me to move out and be a part of what was happening I felt . . . that it was definitely the right move for me to make.

  . . . I was handed a phone, given part of a desk to use in what I remember to be a pretty crowded and bustling office, and told by Moishe to “start calling churches and make meetings for the music group.” I think this was sort of the beginning of the church ministries department. It . . . seemed there were new believers everywhere, new songs being written, performed, and recorded, new tracts being written, [and] outreach constantly.

  Tuvya Zaretsky was another of the “originals.” He was a Jewish believer from Northern California, whom Miriam had met in Israel. Still in Israel, he had exchanged letters with Moishe and asked whether Moishe had a job for him if he returned to the States:

  He wrote back and explained that he couldn’t employ me, but I was welcome to have meals at his house, [and] sleep on his floor until I could find a place to live and secure a job. However, right in line with his priorities, he added “All I have to offer you is an opportunity to serve the Lord.”

  I finally did return to the United States in the fall of 1972. He struck me as incredibly thoughtful, intense when engaged in conversation but with enough mirth and mischief about him to keep you on your toes.

  He was true to his word. That fall in 1972 I slept on the floor of his living room for a few nights and shared meals off and on with his family, until I found an apartment of my own and the means by which to support myself. He also made good on the promise to give me an opportunity to serve Jesus.

  The group was certainly not limited to East Coasters. Moishe met Amy Rabinovitz, a Jewish believer who was working for Campus Crusade, at a Christian rally in Dallas. Amy was a talented writer and organizer, eager to use her skills for the cause of Jewish evangelism.

  While this is a biography of Moishe Rosen and not a history of Jews for Jesus, it is impossible to discuss the one without the other. Moishe’s life and identity were inseparable from the birth of Jews for Jesus. The two books already written on the history of Jews for Jesus* describe the early group as a tribe, not an organization. There was a great sense of belonging; though the people came from diverse backgrounds, there was a common purpose that helped to forge a common culture. Moishe did not see himself as the creator of that culture. He saw the talent and the determination of many young people who had more or less gathered around him, and he did his best to pull the personalities and the talent together and keep the group on track, whether they were working hard or playing hard, and sometimes it was difficult to determine which was which.

  Amy Rabinovitz observed,

  As far as I knew, Moishe’s idea of fun was a great idea—executed well. He set incredibly high standards for how to nurture a good idea, and I think it is one of the things I took with me when I left [Jews for Jesus]. . . . He definitely looked for ways to make communication interesting and in that I think he broke the mold of what was happening in Jewish missions. In retrospect, if I were to gauge his style, it would be more Bill Gates than Steve Jobs. Jobs was an inventor, creating his vision. Gates saw what Jobs was doing and looked for ways to take it to a wider audience, to shake up what existed. This Jesus people movement was already happening—Moishe recognized the importance of it and looked for ways to shake up Jewish missions and utilize what he knew to reach a wider audience.

  I remember Moishe as a person who took a lot of delight in discovery . . . little things like an odd fact or a new restaurant . . . and an equal amount of delight in sharing those things with others. I also remember that delight disappearing as he struggled to build the organization.

  Anyway . . . he discovered a very good restaurant . . . Swiss, French, something like that . . . and he took a copy of their menu, put a $20 bill with it (plenty for dinner for 2 in those days at that restaurant), and gave it to someone else in the group. Whoever went to the restaurant did the same thing and so on and so forth. Pretty soon all of us had been there to eat. Because of the way we had done it, we each had our own experience, but it was a group experience also.

  Tuvya Zaretsky had similar recollections:

  I think Moishe found learning to be a form of recreation. He seemed to take such delight in hearing about an experience or discussing a thought with other people. That wouldn’t be everyone’s form of recreation, but he wasn’t exactly a skier. . . .

  I was always amazed at the sense of humor that Moishe evidenced in his lessons and messages. It came so naturally. The style of humor was self-effacing, wry, and often with deep irony. He would use hyperbole and understatement as a form of humor. He seemed to pull it off naturally. I don’t remember him telling jokes. His humor seemed to be knit right into the fabric of life and the rest of his ministry.

  No doubt there is material enough to fill an entire book of other people’s impressions of Moishe.* And there were certainly many more who were part of those early days. Suffice it to say, all whose names have been mentioned in this chapter were at the core of the living, breathing, sometimes quarreling community that became Jews for Jesus. Each of these people was significant to Moishe, and many remained so throughout his life.

  It would be difficult to overstate what a diverse, headstrong, talented, bright, and altogether unlikely group this was. Moishe had no doubt that God had called them together for a purpose: to let the world know that Jesus is the Jewish Messiah, and that no Jew ought to be ashamed to follow him. They were unconventional people, following an unconventional leader, to perform an unconventional task.

  Ceil recalled,

  Moishe was very comfortable with these young people. He related to them very well and liked to discuss philosophy. He could sit on the floor and talk to them—something he couldn’t do in a suit and tie in New York. He enjoyed it. I think he felt liberated to do what he knew how to do best, which was evangelism.

  It took Ceil a little time before she felt comfortable with this crowd of hippie believers, who, at first, seemed very strange to her:

  Moishe explained some of their thinking to help me understand. I didn’t run away from them, but they were not exactly the kind of people I would have chosen to relate to. But I learned rather easily that they were nice people.

  Though Ceil came to value the people who had become such a major part of Moishe’s world, she would have preferred a life in which Moishe’s time in ministry was more clearly delineated from his free time or time with family. She explained,

  It was like he was living, eating, breathing Jews for Jesus all the time. I let him know that I didn’t like it. He let me know it wasn’t going to change. So it was an impasse. But then you go on.

  I felt that whatever he was doing was what God wanted him to do—and one thing I had decided early and never went back on was that I would never interfere with his talking to people about the Lord. So whatever that entailed—and there were a lot of people he had to talk to once we went to San Francisco—had to be okay by me. . . .

  He had this much respect for me that he never tried to make me do anything. But then on the other hand, I was not to make him do things either. So, I think we both knew our limits.

  There was a bit more delineation (though not much) between home and work once Moishe set up his first office in Corte Madera. One room was Moishe’s office/library, and the other room served as space for the weekly Bible studies, staff meetings, and day-to-day operations.

  All of this activity was still under the auspices of the ABMJ, where it was referred to as “the project” or “Rosen’s project” and for a while “the Jews for Jesus branch in San Francisco.” It was a truly wonderful time for Moishe, who later said,

  The three years before Jews for Jesus became an independent mission were a very happy time for me. I was delighted with the young people I was meeting and influencing, and we were finding courage to try things that o
ther people couldn’t do.

  And toward the beginning, Daniel Fuchs was very happy with the work we were doing . . . and said it was the best work that was being done in the mission. And I was glad that he was happy. I always liked Daniel Fuchs.

  When Dr. Fuchs came to visit, Moishe took him to Berkeley where Daniel observed him handing out broadside tracts to a crowd of protesters. Moishe knew by then how to be in the right place at the right time, how to avoid being stuck in the ensuing “riot,” and when and where to exit. Daniel had a front row seat, so to speak, to some of the current events things he’d been reading about and seeing on the news.

  It was not only success in the work and his boss’s approbation, but the relationships and group dynamic that made this such a memorable time in Moishe’s life. He recalled,

  Even though we worked hard, we did a lot of playing. Some of it was mischievous. We pulled pranks on one another. In those early days, the relationship was not a professional relationship. We were a family in the best sense of that word. We looked out for each other; we provided for each other. If somebody needed money, we all worked together. Just getting together—even Bible studies—there were constant jokes and laughing and having fun with one another, and I miss that.

  Often I would say, “We take God seriously, but we don’t take ourselves too seriously.” But we did our work, and nobody had to remind us to be serious about getting out the gospel.

  Certainly there were days that were ordinary. But for the most part, the 1970s were packed with adventures for Moishe and the people involved in the Jews for Jesus project.

  * The opening section is based on pages 11–13 of the book Jews for Jesus, by Moishe Rosen with William Proctor, published by Fleming Revell in 1974.

  *Jews for Jesus, previously mentioned, and Not Ashamed: the Story of Jews for Jesus, by Ruth Tucker published by Multnomah Publishers.

  * A couple of the original Jews for Jesus mentioned in this chapter preferred not to contribute to the research for this book, and others were not contacted. This does not diminish their importance to Moishe or to the early days of Jews for Jesus.

  TWENTY-THREE

  I could not get people to do things because of their devotion to me. What they did, they did because of their devotion to God. I was only showing them a path that they could take.

  —MOISHE ROSEN

  Hey, Goldstein, what are you doing with that broadside?” Moishe frowned.

  It wasn’t like Baruch to waste gospel literature.

  His curly headed, barrel chested cohort grinned mischievously. “You’ll see.” Within seconds, Moishe saw that Baruch had made the tract into a paper airplane. “Okay, watch this—” Baruch said, as he opened the window of their sky-high Sheraton hotel room on 35th Street and 8th Avenue.

  Before Moishe could protest, Baruch had sent the paper airplane gently sailing down to the street below. Both watched as it glided over the traffic and across the street. It continued to glide up the street, then down the street, as if it were looking for somebody. A man stopped and reached up to grab it. Moishe and Baruch watched in wonder as he unfolded what must have seemed like a strangely contorted leaf from a mysterious gospel tree. The magical moment passed as Baruch hooted with glee. “Didja see that, Moishe? The guy’s reading it!”

  For the next ten minutes the two of them took turns launching gospel missives out the window, watching eagerly to see what would become of them. Nearly all the pamphlets were picked up and read by curious New Yorkers.

  Moishe and Baruch Goldstein were in New York City for the Jesus Joy Festival, set to take place on Labor Day. Baruch, who received a disability check from the army, was practically a full-time volunteer with his own means of support. He had come along as Moishe’s bodyguard.

  Moishe could still hardly believe it was all happening. Originally, he’d been asked to fill a ten-minute speaking slot.

  “You’re going all the way to New York to talk to a bunch of people for ten minutes?” Ceil was dubious when he first mentioned the opportunity.

  Moishe explained, “It’s the venue—New York City and the Felt Forum! Imagine 3,500 New Yorkers—plus they’re bringing in all these Christian folk rock artists. Even if it is a Christian concert, a lot of the young people who’ll want to come to hear them are going to be Jewish.’”

  Ceil nodded appreciatively. “Okay, I can see why you’re excited.”

  Moishe grinned. “You should have seen Susan Perlman’s eyes light up when I told her about it. She started putting together a press release right away. ’I think she’s sent one to just about every local radio and TV station plus every newspaper in every borough of New York. If there’s a plumbers’ association of Staten Island and they have a newspaper, you can bet she’s sent them a press release too.”

  Susan’s work had paid off; she’d been able to line up numerous media opportunities before the event. As soon as the Jewish newspapers picked up on the fact that Moishe Rosen was coming to New York, the flurry of articles and interviews had snowballed and the festival organizers decided to change his original ten-minute slot to a twenty-minute keynote speaker spot.

  He smiled as he recalled how Susan had practically shrieked, “Moishe, you gotta see this!” Then she showed him a copy of the Jewish Press. There on the front page was the decree that all Jewish organizations had forbidden their members to attend the Jesus Joy Festival because “an apostate who calls himself Moishe Rosen” was to be a speaker!

  “So who,” Moishe asked in his most ironic tone, “is this new ‘Jewish pope’ that thinks he can forbid every Jew in New York from coming to a concert?”

  “Exactly!” Susan replied, brimming with satisfaction. “Who wouldn’t want to come to the concert after this?”

  Susan was right. Not only was the prohibition bound to roll off the backs of a strong-minded, independent, think-for-themselves community of New York Jews, but it turned the event into a matter of great curiosity.

  The festival itself was quite an event. Intense Christian rock music and several dynamic speakers electrified the crowd. As Moishe stepped up to the podium, his adrenaline pumping, cameras flashed to capture images of the denim-clad forty-year-old. He had a palpable feeling that the crowd was with him. They punctuated his most passionate points with applause—whereas if he paused to create suspense, there was silence as the crowd waited eagerly to hear what he would say next.

  And then it was over. He’d gotten his message across. Jesus was not some namby-pamby figure portrayed in so many religious paintings. He was a radical, relevant Messiah who came first to the Jewish people, but would bring purpose and meaning to the life of any Jew or Gentile who would turn to him.

  Moishe was well aware that some very angry people were awaiting him near the exits. The police had suggested that he and his four-person entourage leave the Forum incognito since they were going to walk back to the hotel. But Moishe felt it would be wrong to show fear or compromise their visibility. He told the young men with him,

  “We’ve got to double time it out of here and keep it up all the way to the hotel. Don’t run. Don’t lag behind. Keep in step. And whatever you do, don’t answer back or engage in conversation no matter what they say. Now is not the time. If we stick together and stay focused, I don’t think anyone will get hurt. Got it?”

  On the city sidewalk the small band of Jews for Jesus was met with shouts and jeers, and perhaps a shove here and there. For the most part, the group tried to follow Moishe’s instructions. But one man turned to answer a particularly provocative remark from the hostile knot of protesters. His brief reply was enough to make him a target, and as he turned back to continue pace with the rest of the group, he received a hard kick in the behind.

  Despite the hostilities, the overriding emotion back in the hotel room was excitement bordering on euphoria. Moishe called the rest of the group back in California. His blow-by-blow description of the events helped to expend some of his adrenaline. Yet in the days that followed, Moishe reflected th
at for the good of his own soul, he would prefer not to speak in front of a crowd of thousands again.*

  The media coverage of Moishe Rosen and the early Jews for Jesus catapulted the issue of being Jewish and believing in Jesus into the public arena. In June 1972, Time magazine published the article “Jews for Jesus” in the religion section. The article covered the phenomenon of Jewish people as part of the Jesus Movement (already waning by 1972), which was far broader than Jews for Jesus. The phrase “Jews for Jesus” was already being applied to all kinds of Jewish Jesus-believers, partly because it was so catchy and simple to say, and partly because under Moishe’s leadership, Jews for Jesus was highly visible and very colorful. That same month a clip of Jews for Jesus aired on network TV.

  While the Time article was objective and fair, and the TV clip allowed the group to speak for itself, that was not always the case with the publicity that swirled around Jews for Jesus. But though the coverage was often unflattering and sometimes inaccurate, for the most part, Moishe saw it as beneficial to the cause.

  Nevertheless, the publicity had a downside. Early on, Moishe had numerous opportunities to talk to Jewish groups but once the press picked up on Jews for Jesus, helping to make the group into a phenomenon, the Northern California Board of Rabbis issued an edict forbidding Jewish organizations from inviting Jews for Jesus to speak to their groups.

  The prohibition against inviting Jews for Jesus to speak did not prevent individuals from agreeing to meet privately with Moishe, who frequently took his young volunteers to observe how he shared his faith in one-on-one situations.

  To Moishe, the crux of ministry was always the opportunity to relate to people as individuals. However, he believed that because most Jewish people are taught automatically to dismiss the possibility of Jesus being the Jewish Messiah, the public needed to be continually challenged to reconsider that response. That is why visibility and a high profile were indispensable to the Jews for Jesus project.