Called to Controversy (25 page)

“I guess it might work,” Ceil said, somewhat doubtfully. “When are you going to try it?”

“I don't know. I'll have to get the post cards printed up first.”

The doorbell rang. “Are you expecting anyone?” Ceil asked, as he went to answer the door.

“Not particularly,” he said.

“Well, if it's anyone with a bomb, tell them that we don't want any,” she called after him.

Moishe opened the door and found himself eye to eye with a tall, blond, handsome young man. “Are you Martin Rosen?” he asked in a soft southern drawl.

“Yes.” Moishe wondered why the young man was wearing a tweed sport coat in August, when the weather was still hot.

“My name is Tom McCall, and I'm here to be your assistant. Daniel Fuchs hired me.”

“He . . . he did? I hope you'll excuse me, Mr. McCall. Daniel never mentioned anything about it to me. Are you sure you're supposed to be my assistant?”

“Yes, very sure.”

“Well, uh, uh, come in.”

Moishe ushered in his guest and introduced him to Ceil.

“Mr. Rosen, I'm enrolled at Talbot Theological Seminary in La Mirada,” Tom explained. “I'm supposed to work with you half-time. Daniel said I would learn a lot from you.”

The last thing Moishe wanted was an assistant. He had “inherited” one from Zimmy but had been relieved when the former assistant had asked to go elsewhere. What was he supposed to teach Tom, when he was still learning the ropes himself?

“Well, tomorrow's Sunday. I guess for starters, you can join me in the park for outdoor evangelism.”

The next day the two men went to MacArthur Park. Moishe was curious to see how Tom would acquit himself and, much to his surprise, Tom did well. Most street preachers Moishe had seen presented themselves as great beholders of the truth who were imparting what they knew to those wise enough to stop and listen. Tom was different.

He's very approachable,
Moishe thought.
That humble and vulnerable manner is not just a show for outdoor preaching. It's the way we should be as missionaries.

Moishe was happy to have someone else to preach with him on Sundays, but it seemed to Moishe that Tom was making plans and decisions without too much regard for his “boss's” input.

“I don't think it's such a good idea for Tom to look for a home in Downey,” he told Ceil one night. “It puts him too far from the mission and the neighborhood where he's supposed to minister.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Yeah, I told him.”

“And?”

“And he's set on living in Downey.” Moishe shrugged. “What am I going to do, fire him? I didn't hire him to begin with. I like the guy a lot, but I don't feel like I have any leverage with him. I just wish I knew what Daniel was thinking.”

“Can't you ask him?”

“He probably expects me to figure things out for myself.”

“You have a good relationship with Daniel—”

“Yes, I know. I don't want to bother him with this.”

“You're sure?”

“Sure. Hey, isn't Ed Sullivan on tonight? Let's turn on the TV.”

Moishe never did quite get the hang of supervising Tom McCall who was very smart and very determined to do things his own way. As a seminary student, Tom had knowledge that outstripped Moishe's Bible college education, causing Moishe to stretch a little in order to fulfill Daniel's promise that Tom would learn from him. Moishe began to prepare lessons that were different from the sort of thing Tom would learn at Talbot. The twenty or so lectures on how to witness to Jewish people helped him formulate ideas that he would use with future trainees. They also formed the basis for a booklet Moishe wrote titled “How to Witness Simply and Effectively to the Jews.”

As for the door-to-door work, Moishe was not looking forward to it, and it took quite a while before he got started. For the most part, people took the postcard invitation to the Bible study and said, “Thank you.” Occasionally someone would ask a question; now and then someone would be hostile. Over the course of eighteen months, Moishe recalled, “I did talk at length to a few people. But from all the invitations that I handed out, only one couple that I know of ever came to the Bible study. Afterward, they told me very cordially that they had been curious enough to come, but that once had been enough. I never saw them again.”

Moishe found that one of the most effective ways for him to meet people who wanted to talk about Jesus was already in place when he moved to California. It had been organized independently of the mission long before Moishe's arrival. Lawrence Duff Forbes, whom Moishe once described as “the father of messianic Judaism,” began the project—a monthly Friday night fellowship meeting—and once it got going, he left it to others. Through Betty Jacques who, with her husband, hosted the gatherings in their Hollywood Hills home, Moishe learned the value of such meetings and how to conduct them.

The evening typically included a special speaker—sometimes a Christian celebrity Betty knew from her church—who told of his or her faith journey. Often a talented soloist brought a touch of class to the music. The Jacqueses were generous and the refreshments were elegant. A core group of Christians attended the meetings and invited their friends, many of whom were Jewish.

Moishe attended most of the meetings, and Ceil came when she was able to hire a babysitter. The Jacqueses always made the Rosens very much at home at the fellowship meetings, though as Ceil noted, “They were in a very different social strata than we were.” Betty introduced them to some of the “Hollywood people,” including Roy Rogers (who autographed a Bible for Lyn), David Nelson and his wife (of
Ozzie and Harriet
fame), and Donna Douglas, who played Ellie Mae Clampett on
The Beverly Hillbillies.
These entertainers were well known in the late 1950s and early 1960s. The Jacqueses also introduced Moishe and Ceil to personal friends who lived in Bel Air, a number of whom were Jewish or had Jewish friends with whom Moishe met to discuss the gospel.

During their early years in Southern California, Moishe and Ceil became members of the First Baptist Church of Hollywood, pastored by Dr. Harold Proppe. Dr. Proppe, an “old school Baptist,” befriended Moishe and made quite an impression on him. Among other things, in warm weather he wore a linen suit, and in cooler weather he wore a morning coat. Moishe explained,

When I say Dr. Proppe was an old-fashioned Baptist, first of all, he was an orator. His elegance of language was phenomenal. He had a sense of decorum. . . . I went there as much as anything because one person could make a difference in that congregation.

Dr. Proppe's interest in Moishe was typical of his desire for people in his congregation to do what they could to tell others about Jesus. He recognized potential in the young missionary and wanted to encourage and challenge Moishe. Dr. Proppe was very frank with him about potential pitfalls in ministry and Moishe took his warnings seriously.

Moishe was at a point in his life where he certainly needed to be encouraged as well as challenged. Throughout the first year or so, Moishe did not realize where he was lacking until his boss, Daniel Fuchs, came to spend ten days with him. Fuchs was one of the most important and highly regarded Jewish believers in Jesus at that time. The fact that he wanted to spend an extended period of time with Moishe—living at his home and shadowing him throughout his work days—came as a bit of a shock to the young missionary, who felt both honored and intimidated by the plan.

The mere act of figuring out how to spend his time with Dr. Fuchs showed Moishe just how little he'd been accustomed to scheduling his work and how much he had relied on people and activities to present themselves. Daniel's visit was exactly what Moishe needed to learn how to plan his time wisely and organize opportunities rather than wait for them.

He later reflected, “The conclusion I drew from my own life was that one doesn't do a novice any favors by allowing him to set his own pace and be entirely responsible for his own work schedule. Novices need to work alongside someone who can set a good example.”
*

Dr. Fuchs confided to Moishe that he'd come because somebody had made a complaint that Moishe's ministry wasn't developing. That was certainly true and Moishe was able to see and admit it—but since no one had spoken to him about it, he was naturally unhappy that someone had reported it to Daniel behind his back. Daniel would not name the person who made the complaint. Moishe recalled,

The fact that Daniel wouldn't say who complained made me suspicious of people around me. Years later, he told me who the person was. It really hurt my feelings, because it was Elias Zimmerman, who had always told me what a wonderful job I was doing and what a wonderful person I was. But behind my back, he complained that I wasn't doing enough work. He might have challenged me to do better and shown me how to do better, but he didn't.

I decided that, if I ever got in that position [of being a boss], I would never heed any complaint if the person insisted on being anonymous. If somebody complained, they had to sign off on their complaint. If they didn't care enough to attach their name to it, and stand by it, I was just not going to take it seriously. A lot of my principles came as counter measures to bad experiences.
*

Daniel did not realize that referencing the complaint with no name attached was likely to engender suspicion. Nevertheless, Moishe did benefit from the criticism because Daniel Fuchs cared enough to help Moishe turn the situation around.

Moishe was grateful for the time Fuchs spent with him. He was honored that his mentor and boss stayed in his home when he could have been far more comfortable in a hotel. Fuchs made it very clear that he had not come to scold Moishe, but to bring him along and build him up. Moishe said,

He was a good coach. He didn't give a lot of directives, but he knew how to make helpful suggestions. When he taught something, instead of saying, “You ought to do this.“ Or, “Here's what you need to do” he would start out by applying the situation to himself. He'd say, “I found a way of doing this that might work for you,“ or, “You might want to try it this way.“ He was also very commendatory of anything that I did right. He said that he'd learned a lot from me, and that meant a great deal. Daniel knew that part of giving was showing the other person that they had something to offer. The ten days he spent with me revolutionized my life.

Within five years, the LA work had grown to the point that the mission sought a larger facility to accommodate it. They secured an excellent property on the corner of Lexington and Lodi. The small mansion had once been the home of Mary Pickford, one of the most important actors and producers of silent film, and cofounder of the United Artists film studio. More recently the building had been owned by Calvary Church of Hollywood, a split-off from First Presbyterian Church of Hollywood. Eventually, Calvary Church rejoined First Presbyterian and no longer needed the building. They offered the ABMJ a terrific deal; if the mission would buy the property for the price of the land, they would donate the building. It required only minor renovations to adapt it for the mission's use. Moishe oversaw those renovations.

The mission no longer needed the little house on Pico Boulevard, and accordingly, they sold it. As long as Moishe and Ceil resided in the building where the mission work was centered, they had lived rent-free. For the first time ever they saved up a significant sum toward a down payment for a home of their own. Daniel Fuchs encouraged the couple's desire to become homeowners and did what he could to help make it possible.

Their savings, along with a generous gift from Mary Hensley, a friend and supporter of the ministry, enabled them to purchase a three-bedroom ranch house in North Hollywood.

These moves, one to a new mission facility and the other to a new home that the family could call their own, signaled a new era in Moishe's life and ministry.

*
Moishe came to believe that one of the most common problems in any ministry is that people, when allowed to work at their own pace, often do not challenge themselves to stretch beyond the minimum acceptable effort. He found that underchallenged ministers either tend to become depressed over low levels of achievement or else deceive themselves into thinking that a low level is higher than it really is.