Called to Controversy (48 page)

He told Ceil his concerns and suggested they consider moving to San Diego. They decided to remain in San Francisco, and later wondered, together and separately, if that had been a mistake. Yet it is questionable whether a geographical move would have addressed the depth of the difficulties that Moishe faced as a founding executive director handing over leadership to another.

Moishe wanted to be a help and support to David, and David had made a commitment that, as he put it, “any seat Moishe sat in would be a seat of honor.” The two of them did far more to uphold one another than many others in their positions might have done. Still, each found the ability to help and be helped by one another less than what they'd hoped for in their new roles.

When Moishe would visit David for regular appointments at the office, he frequently arrived early or stayed later to wander through various departments. He had always done so when he was executive director, to assess how things were going. While no longer in charge, Moishe was still interested to see how things were going, and his “rounds” sometimes resulted in problem-solving initiatives that were no longer his to take. At times the new executive director agreed with these initiatives but at times they caused tension.

Meanwhile, Moishe had his own inner tensions to manage. He'd never intended to retire completely, and yet to his dismay, people outside the ministry often asked him how his retirement was going. He came up with a plan whereby he felt he could better serve the ministry while regaining some of the challenge and excitement that seemed to be lacking in his present situation.

Accordingly, Moishe came to one of his regular appointments with David and informed him that he wanted to turn things around in the department responsible for recruiting new missionaries. He wanted to head up that department, and as David recalled, he wanted to do so from the headquarters office.

David had not doubted Moishe's competence to oversee the department (known as minister-at-large), but he hadn't wanted to undermine the relatively new department head who, he felt, needed a chance to succeed at the task. Nor was David comfortable with a change that would have Moishe working daily from the headquarters office again.

On one level, Moishe was truly content not to run the mission any longer. He not only felt that he had obeyed God in stepping down, but a great weight of responsibility had been lifted from him. On another level, however, he still believed he knew how to do things better than anyone else. David wanted to avail himself of Moishe's wisdom and often asked him for advice—but quickly found that Moishe's idea of advice was different from his.

Perhaps former subordinates might have asked for Moishe's opinion or perspective rather than “advice” with more satisfactory results. When asked for advice, Moishe didn't take it as a request for a possible way to solve a problem. He took it as an invitation to impart information about the best (or sometimes, to his mind, the right) course of action. If that course was not followed, he took it as a sign of disrespect or rejection. This dynamic was not peculiar to his relationship with David; in general, many of Moishe's suggestions sounded a lot more like instructions.

Moishe was happy and magnanimous when his advice helped solve a problem or set a worthwhile project in motion, which happened frequently. However, on occasions when his advice was not taken, he had difficulty letting go. He also had a tendency to express his differences and disappointment to others, so that he sometimes fell short of his best intentions of affirming his successor. It was sad for mutual friends and colleagues to see his relationship with David become, on some levels, less than each had hoped or expected.

In addition to Moishe's periodic difficulty in “letting go” there were fundamental differences between him and his successor (whose nature was to be enthusiastic and upbeat), not in values, but in personalities. Past chapters recount Moishe's low grade depression, and his habit of preparing for the worst-case scenario. This was ingrained in his leadership style, as was his tendency to be skeptical of anyone he thought was overly optimistic or too expansive in their vision. These tendencies did not serve to ease the very natural tensions of transition that still would have existed between himself and his successor even under the most ideal circumstances.

Yet all was not gloomy for Moishe, nor was he shunted to the side after stepping down. One month after the council nominated David, Moishe had elective surgery and received a new stainless steel knee joint. His improved health that year enabled him to travel, speak, and consult on behalf of the ministry within the United States and abroad.

Early the following year (1997), Moishe trained new missionary candidates, who came to his home for lectures. He and Ceil also finished a book they had begun the year before titled
Witnessing to Jews
. It started as a rewrite of their previously published
Share the New Life with a Jew
, but the project grew as Moishe saw where the book could include further insights. The updated language made the book more readable, and the many additions rendered it a fairly comprehensive work on Jewish evangelism. He was also acknowledged as a contributor to the
Nelson Study Bible
, published by Thomas Nelson in 1997.

One of his primary interests was opening channels for the ministry to use the Internet as a “place” to witness. He entered the realm of chat rooms and acknowledged that while it was still important for Jews for Jesus to be visible out on street corners in major cities, the Internet was, in many ways, the new marketplace for public discourse. Following the family vacation in Hawaii, he began a new dimension of his work: summer interns.

Moishe taught from experience, and he deeply believed what he imparted to the interns and to the many others whose paths crossed his. Though some aspects of his post-executive-director years were more successful than others, he never stopped looking for ways to spend himself. He was always eager to invest in others, and he hoped they would benefit from what he had to give.

*
The previous week they had been in Oahu.

**
I suspect that the board of directors and senior leadership wanted to present Moishe with a significant gift as a gesture of thanks for his many years of leadership when he stepped down from his position. Moishe would have seen an expensive gift as an unworthy use of ministry funds. The repayment of this sum, however, was welcome not only as a windfall, but as a demonstration that others remembered what he had sacrificed, especially early on.

THIRTY-ONE

Our love cannot preserve itself Nor our rightness last O Lord, love us and we shall be loved and love Keep us right till we are right with you.

—MOISHE ROSEN

O
h, how we danced on the night we were wed. We vowed our true love, though a word wasn't said . . .”

Moishe smiled as he steered his wife onto the dance floor. He was comfortable, if not dapper, in his new size seventy custom-tailored navy blue suit. Originally he planned to wear one of his ubiquitous black wool preacher's suits, but Ceil was planning to wear blue, and as she pointed out, “Black and blue might not look so nice together on the dance floor or in the photographs.”

“My wife always has to have everything color coordinated,” Moishe had joked with the tailor. “Even me.” Ceil was relieved that he'd agreed to a less severe color and fabric for this happy occasion. And even though she felt a bit self-conscious in front of so many friends and family members, it was nice to be in her husband's arms as the schmaltzy, romantic “Anniversary Song” emanated throughout the Crystal Ballroom of the Marine's Memorial Club in downtown San Francisco. It was August 27, 2000. They had been married for 50 years.

Much as the couple loved the nostalgic song, the lyrics, written four years before their own nuptials, did not quite apply. Moishe and Ceil had
not
danced on the night they were wed. They had been unable to afford a ballroom reception, let alone a dance band, and unlike tonight's festivities, there were no DJ's to be had in 1950. Regardless of its humble beginnings, Moishe and Ceil's marriage had lasted fifty years, and that was worth celebrating.

Lyn and I took care of all preparations and arrangements for the event. I was in charge of creating and mailing invitations, so I asked my father for his brother Don's address in Denver.

“He won't come,” Dad said flatly. “I
would
like him to come. But I don't think he will.”

Over the years the brothers had not found many occasions to stay in touch. Sometimes they phoned each other on birthdays or holidays, but the calls seemed few and far between.

Lyn and I began to pray that our father's brother would come to the party, and I wrote a special note on his invitation: “We want you to know this is not a perfunctory invitation. We would truly love to see you if you are able to come.” I didn't realize that my uncle, who had been divorced for some time, was now seeing someone. But his daughter Jodi discreetly contacted Lyn and said that her father would be more likely to come if his date was also welcome. She certainly was most welcome! We were thrilled when Don wrote “yes” on the response card and came to the party, along with Jan, his wife-to-be.

Several relatives on Mom's side came from the Boston area, as well as a nephew and his wife from the Bay Area. Moishe's cousin Donald and wife, Ginni, came from Denver. This made Moishe particularly happy because he and Donald had been close friends in their youth. In addition to family members, many friends came from all over the country: one flew up from Los Angeles, while others, like one couple from St. Louis, traveled many more miles for the event. Leslie and Harry Wright donated their photography skills as an anniversary gift.

The party was a landmark event—not only because fifty years of marriage had become somewhat rare in twenty-first-century society, but because it seemed to signal a change in the relationship between Moishe and his brother. In the following years, they found more occasions to call each other and seemed to include each other more in their lives. Lyn and I saw this as an answer to our prayers.

The last decade of Moishe's life was characterized by a mixture of all the best and the worst that senior citizenry may offer. One highlight of the year 2000 was the new chapter in his relationship with his granddaughter, Bethany. She chose to attend San Francisco State University and settled in with her savi (grandmother) and zayda (grandfather), who were absolutely delighted to have her in the house. They hadn't lived in the same city with her since she was a very little girl, and now they would have the privilege of really getting to know her. Her presence added a wonderful new dimension to the first half of the last decade of Moishe's life.

After a year or so, Moishe began to think a great deal about his grandson, Asher, in Austin, Texas. Though bright and very computer savvy, Asher had opted not to go to college. He seemed to have no difficulty finding work, but Moishe was concerned that without further education, he might have a rather limited future. Moishe was also concerned that Asher was the only family member who lived so far from any other family member. The more Moishe thought about it, the more reasons he found to invite Asher to San Francisco.

Asher, three years older than his sister, had had a bit more time to get to know his grandfather before the Bonds left San Francisco. He recalled his first memory of his zayda:

I remember him picking me up and hugging me and he had whiskers that made my face itch—I had never experienced whiskers before. My dad had a beard but that was softer. Zayda's whiskers were very abrasive. But he was very friendly so the whiskers kind of caught me off guard. He seemed like a really soft person so when you got to the whiskers, it was a shock.

In some ways, Asher's recollection is an interesting metaphor. Many others would agree that Moishe had a softness as well as an abrasiveness that went beyond his physical attributes.

Regarding Moishe's invitation to come to San Francisco, Asher said,

At first he was trying to sell me on it, and I told him, “Well, you know I'm already kind of settled in here in Austin and happy with my life how it is.” But when he said, “I need you to come,” I thought about it and I realized, if he needs me, I'll go.

So it was that in 2002, when Bethany was nearly midway through her studies at SF State, Asher joined the household. He enrolled in City College, and Moishe really did rely on his help.