there were children. There were many in our neighborhood who were not in a Sun day school. Since the burden was placed on my heart, I must do something about it. I began this new project with the boy next door. “ Freddie,” I asked one day, “how would you like to help me start a Sun day school?” “ Fine!” he answered promptly. “ Well, you and I will go out and in vite children to come in and we will have a Sunday school,” I told him. On Saturday we set out. We didn’t find any children who seemed interested until we were about to give up when we met seven boys who promised to come. Six of them came out on Sunday. And from that beginning a neighborhood Sun day school grew until our rooms were crowded and we needed help in the teaching. Begun with a group of boys, it soon included boys and girls as broth ers brought their sisters and they, in turn, brought their friends. The three of us, Selina, Carrie and I, had more than we could do, and we were glad in deed when Miss Christina Braskamp, an experienced teacher, came out from Biola to help us. During the years we were able to carry on the Sunday school in our home, some sixty children were con verted, ten of whom were Jewish boys and girls. A young Catholic girl who be gan to come to our home for Sunday school after she had attended mass in the mornings, was also saved. I have kept every one of these on my prayer list and have prayed for them ever since. The years that followed the beginning of these two types of ministry were full and satisfying as we were able'to give out the gospel and to see it received by not a few. But in 1934 all meetings in our home came to a stop and the light went from the day for a long while when I lost Selina and Carrie, one preceding the other by only a few months. Carrie had led Selina and me to the Lord and had helped us all through the years, so my loss was more than that of a sister. Carrie Menard was a great soul winner and a woman of prayer. Scarcely a Wed nesday evening prayer meeting went by that Dr. R. A. Torrey of the Bible Insti tute did not call upon.her to lead in prayer. Her going was felt in many cir cles and my own home was suddenly in credibly lonely with the loss of both wife and sister. But though the natural sor row of losing the earthly companionship of my beloved ones was great, there was not the hopeless wailing of the Jew who
tain a promise from him to attend our home gathering. Some had come reluc tantly; most of them came out of curi osity, but they were here and much de pended upon this first meeting. We had worked hard to prepare for them. At tractive refreshments were ready for the serving; the home had been made as in viting as we knew how. I had engaged a young violinist to play, for Jewish people love music and will go out of their way to hear it. By the time he had finished, the atmosphere in the room was relaxed and friendly. With no perceptible pause, I took up my Jewish Bible and began to talk to these unconverted Jewish peo ple about the things of the Old Testa ment, leading right on to speak of the true Messiah, the Son of God, Elohim Himself, the Jew of all Jews. There were varied reactions from this curiously assorted group to this first gospel presentation. Some were openly resentful; some were fearful; all were unbelieving. We didn’t know whether or not any would return for the next meet ing two weeks later. But they came. At tracted by an evening in a friendly home, in an atmosphere of music and friend ship, they continued to come. We had to keep in touch with them and encour age them, it is true. Just as soon as one meeting was over, we began preparations for the next. We followed up every name we had, every one who had been out at all. We wrote letters, telephoned, and visited them. Sometimes we went after some of the older men and women in the car. Once I called for an old gentleman who had promised to come. But at the last min ute he changed his mind! I didn’t hesi tate. I picked up his coat and helped him into it. “You promised me you would come,”I said firmly, “now come on.” And he did! Numbers grew until fifty and more could be expected every meeting. They ranged in age from eighteen to eighty- five and all were Jewish. Truly, this was a unique opportunity! Before long we had to put in folding doors between some of the rooms so that three rooms could be thrown together to provide an ade quate meeting place and it was usually full. And as our guests began to know us, there were very often opportunities given to deal with individuals after the musical entertainment, preaching of the Word, and time for refreshments were past. Such opportunities filled us with joy. Each one who permitted us to speak was faithfully prayed for as, indeed, were all who came. When one old gentle man called on Christ just before he died, and another, an insurance salesman, ac cepted the Lord after hearing the gospel at these home meetings, I felt all the work and effort was well worth-while even if no others than these were won. Another burden was added during these years. Our home provided a meet ing place for Jewish adults twice each month, but why should not it also be used every Sunday afternoon for children? My experience in Sunday school work in Ohio had given me the great desire to see such work carried on wherever
Sunday afternoon Jewish service at Church of the Open Door has no hope of ever seeing his loved ones again. That hopelessness had been re placed by the assurance of reunion in His blessed presence where we shall never part again. Left quite alone now, I found time heavy on my hands. Circumstances pre vented my continuing the classes in my home. I was no longer pressed by the demands of my business and I believed God had some full-time Christian service for me. But where? I prayed about this matter for almost two years. One day I went to visit Dr. Louis T. Talbot, pastor of the Church of the Open Door, and president of the Bible Institute, little dreaming that he was about to be used to answer my prayer. “ Danny, how would you like to take over the Jewish work here at Biola?” he asked me, coming straight to the point. I gasped in astonishment. This was my answer! “ Dr. Talbot, that is just what I have been praying fo r!” I exclaimed, “ I have been asking God for the past two years to open the way for just such a work but I didn’t dream He would answer in this way!” “ I would like you to take it over this coming Sunday.” “ All right,” I agreed, happily. And I have been with the Jewish Department of the Bible Institute of Los Angeles since that time. God has done the “ abun dantly above” for me in my association with those who have worked with me and He has made the work a blessing to many souls, both those who are bur dened to “pray for the peace of Jerusa lem,” and for Jewish men and women, boys and girls who have been reached through this ministry. There were few Jewish people being converted in those early years; but I have lived to see the day when many Jewish people are com ing to accept Christ as their Messiah, whole families turning to Him. Some, it is true, are secret believers, but the num ber of Christian Jews is growing. Just a year after my taking over the Jewish Department at Biola, the Lord sent me a co-worker who has proved to be a brother indeed. David Sanders, a converted Jew, was walking along the (Continued on Page 22) Page Nine
Band of Jewish workers from Biola
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