by Ruth Rosen
At last, the four Rosens pulled up in front of their new home between two and three in the morning. After getting some sleep, the family surveyed the house. Ceil and the girls were happy with the grassy backyard, which had an avocado tree and a few other plants and a fence so that—oh, joy—the family would be able to have a dog!
The property also included a large garage, but the mission had been renting that space to a carpenter/cabinet maker, George Devries, who lived nearby. George was rather new in business and had a wife and family to support. Moishe knew that if he claimed his right to the garage, it would put his new neighbor out of business. There was no way the carpenter would find a comparable deal on rent anywhere. So they struck a bargain; Devries built, at his own expense, a carport right next to the garage, and with the Rosen’s needs thus met, he continued to rent their garage.
George and his wife, Elfrieda (Elfie), were German Jews whose families had fled Hitler. Their oldest boy, Jerry, was about Lyn’s age, and soon two more little boys came along. The Devrieses were excellent neighbors, and the two families became fast friends.
It would be an understatement to say that Moishe got off to a slow start with the work in Los Angeles. Zimmerman came back from his trip, but his promised help never materialized. From him, Moishe had inherited a Tuesday night Bible study on the East Side of LA in a formerly Jewish neighborhood. The same six or seven people trudged to these meetings each week.
Moishe recalled, “After my first Tuesday night meeting, I remember thinking that the people who attended were looking at me rather expectantly. We had already served refreshments and I could not imagine what else I was supposed to provide. Then Ken Reeves, the man who had previously assisted Zimmerman, observed, ‘You didn’t take care of their car fare.’” The attendees were used to receiving a dollar, and as Moishe said, “The bus fare was nowhere near a dollar in those days. I concluded that he’d more or less been paying people to attend.”
It wasn’t long before Ken Reeves seemed inclined to move a good two hours south and do missionary work in San Diego. This move suited Moishe quite well because he’d never asked to have an assistant.
Moving the work from Boyle Heights to West LA made perfect sense, but Moishe wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it, other than moving the Bible studies to the mission house on Pico. “In actuality,” Moishe recalled, “God began the work there without me.”
During Moishe’s Bible school years, Ceil had attended missionary training classes with him at the mission center in Manhattan where she learned about children’s ministry. Now that she had a school-age daughter who needed to learn the Bible, Ceil had jumped right into the LA work by starting a Bible club. It was a small group, consisting of Lyn and some of her neighborhood school friends. Before long Ceil was teaching stories from the Old Testament, with a view toward prophecy and New Testament thinking. Two of the neighborhood children, Harry and Elsa Cohen, heard about the Bible club and asked their mother if they could attend. She gave her consent.
Harry and Elsa’s mother, Hilda, was a Holocaust survivor. Having lived through the camps, she firmly believed that God had spared her life for a purpose. She desperately wanted to know more about God, and now two of her children were studying the Bible with Jewish neighbors who believed in Jesus. Something was building up inside her until one day she seemed ready to explode.
Moishe described his first meeting with Hilda Cohen:
This short lady came stomping up to our front door, and we let her in out of courtesy. She talked in an excited way and I could understand that she felt very strongly about something, but it was hard to understand her. She had a heavy Dutch accent. I could see on her left arm the tattoo of the concentration camps. She only knew a few words of English, and she said that she had heard that I was a domine. At first I thought that she was saying “domino” and I was confused. But in her broken English, she told me “a man with a Bible.” I said, “A minister?” She said, “That’s right.” And she pointed to me with a questioning look, so I nodded my head that yes, I was a minister. And we just stared at each other because we had this language barrier.
At that time, the American Board of Missions to the Jews had a missionary couple, Dr. Elias Den Arend [sometimes called Eddie] and his wife, Margaret. They were from Holland, and he was a Jewish believer in Jesus. They were in San Jose, and they were coming to visit us in a day or two. So I told Hilda Cohen that we had another domine coming to visit and he was from Holland. She wanted to know if he was Jewish, too. And I nodded my head. She asked, ‘And he believes in Jesus like you?’ I nodded yes, and her face broke out into a big smile and she said, very emphatically, ‘Good!’ She was so eager that the next morning she knocked on the door and wanted to know if the domine from Holland was there yet. I took her address and promised to come tell her when they arrived.
Moishe did as he promised. The Den Arends talked and prayed with Mrs. Cohen, and she received Jesus as her Messiah. Then the three of them went over to Hilda’s house. “Before long, her husband, Isaac, had also prayed to receive the Lord,” Moishe said.
The ministry slowly began to percolate. Moishe planned his week around regularly scheduled meetings. First was the weekly Bible study on Tuesday nights, which was moved from Boyle Heights to the Pico house. Moishe liked this informal style of teaching. It did not elevate him but helped him to facilitate group study and discussion. Following the study, Ceil served refreshments.
On Sundays, Moishe preached outdoors in the park. His experience with hecklers stood him in good stead. Before long, a frustrated opera singer who happened to be an Italian Jew took to singing loudly whenever Moishe tried to speak. Moishe spoke privately to the man (whose name was also Moishe) and told him, “I know you don’t agree with what I say, Moishe, but for me this is a living. I’m paid for preaching. I have a wife and two children. Let me preach. Let me do my work.” The opera singer appreciated the request and actually began singing to help Moishe draw a crowd. He sang traditional Jewish songs, operatic arias, and sometimes songs from a Christian hymnal until he moved from the area. Before he left, however, he told Moishe that he believed in Jesus.
There were several such incidents that, if told all together, would seem to indicate that Moishe Rosen was off to a great start in Los Angeles. But these anecdotes, while true, did not represent everyday life and ministry.* The fact was, on days when no meetings were scheduled, Moishe would wake up each morning and decide what he should do that day. If there was someone for him to visit, he’d visit. If not, he’d work on preparing his Bible study. He often spoke at churches, and frequently he met Jewish people who wanted to know more about Jesus. Sometimes he received a knock on the door from a Jewish inquirer. How did they know to knock on his door? For one thing, a small plaque on the front of the house read, “Reverend Martin Meyer Rosen.”
Having just been ordained, he was rather proud of the title and took satisfaction in referring to himself as “Reverend.” Besides, it was useful in establishing initial contacts. Nevertheless, in later years he came to regard the use of his honorific titles an unnecessary and unwholesome desire for status. He dropped the title altogether and discouraged his staff from using titles as well.
The Pico address was also listed in the phone directory under the American Board of Missions to the Jews. It was not surprising for someone to stop by and ask for gospel tracts to use in telling Jewish friends or neighbors about Jesus.
Moishe’s ability to connect with people was a vital part of his ministry, but as yet he did not know how to plan for or organize such opportunities. He simply took them as they came. Despite his slow start in Los Angeles, the ten years Moishe spent there became a pivotal point in his development as a mission leader.
* A Yiddish phrase roughly translated “meant to be.”
* When Pastor MacDonald discovered that Moishe did not know any Greek (the language in which the New Testament was originally recorded), he secured Moishe’s promise that if the council ordained him, he would
do a year’s study in Greek. Moishe kept that promise by taking a class at Biola.
* Moishe came to insist on detailed reporting because anecdotes, while often encouraging, could not account for amounts of time spent, number of people called or visited, number of tracts handed out and doors knocked on, and so forth. His own lack of accountability in those first few months taught him the importance of planning, preparing, and reporting on one’s work.
SEVENTEEN
Every knock is a boost.
—MOISHE ROSEN
It was early evening, and still light outside the little mission house on West Pico Blvd. The girls were off playing and Moishe was telling Ceil about his day as she cleared away the last of the dishes.
“I wanted to tell you about a man I met with today. His name is Abe Schneider, and he was a truck driver before he became a missionary. He does door-to-door canvassing and he thinks I should do it too, you know, to help get the work going. So I went with him to see how he does it.”
“Uh huh.” Ceil nodded to indicate that she was listening.
“He has a big smile, like this,” Moishe grinned expansively, “Well, not quite like that; his smile is better than mine and his teeth are nicer. But he knocks on the door with this big smile and when someone opens the door, he says—now picture this, with that big smile on his face!— ‘Could I ask you a question? If an atom bomb hit Los Angeles today, what would happen to you?’”
Ceil’s eyebrows shot up as she gasped, “Really?”
“Yes. Imagine how embarrassed I felt. But the strangest thing was . . . some people really wanted to talk about what might happen to them when they died. And would you believe, one person listened to the whole gospel and decided to believe, then and there!”
“So are you going to do it?”
“Go door-to-door? I guess I can try it. But when I do it, I’ll leave out the bomb part.”
“What will you say?”
“Well, what about this: Hello, my name is Martin Rosen and I’m from the Beth Sar Shalom Hebrew Christian Fellowship. We have a Bible study every Tuesday night and I want to invite you.’ He paused. “Then I could hand them a post card that gives the time and place of our study. And if they want to know more, I’ll give them one of our tracts, like, ‘What is a Christian?’”
“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 Harri
et 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.