The Story of Isaac Levinsohn

 
Altogether a Christian. Chapter 10.
MY soul was now perfectly satisfied that Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah of Israel, and also the Saviour of all men, who truly believe on Him. But I could not possibly realize that He was my Saviour, and that He had redeemed me; and this filled me with sorrow. I was convinced that none but Jesus, once crucified, now exalted by God to His right hand in heaven, could save my soul; yet when I remembered how I had hated―yes, how many times I had cursed that holy Name, I could not believe He would extend His mercy or His salvation to me.
Mr. Stern comforted me; he assured me the more sinful I felt, the more certain he was Jesus the Lord would pardon me. He often knelt and prayed with me, and his prayers sank deep into my heart. “If Christ does but pardon my sins,” said I, “I must make a public profession of His Name, and of my faith in Him.”
Mr. Stern requested me to write him a letter expressing myself openly and this I did, upon which he appointed a day for my baptism―Sunday, February 4th, 1872.
My desire to publicly confess my faith in Jesus of Nazareth made me long for the day to arrive, but my heart was still burdened with thoughts of my beloved parents cutting me off from them. I wept bitterly at the prospect of being cut off from the love of my beloved mother, and the temptation became very great, but, thanks be to God, He enabled me by His almighty grace to triumph. I read these words of Jesus― “He that loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me” (Matt. 10:3737He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. (Matthew 10:37)), and, as I considered the great love of my parents toward me, I considered also the unutterable love of Jesus. I meditated upon the manger in Bethlehem―the carpenter’s shop in Nazareth―the hall of Herod―the scorn and the mocking of Jews and Gentiles―the crown of thorns upon His royal brow―the rugged nails piercing His hands and feet―the spear opening His side―and, more, the grave wherein His holy body, that never saw corruption, was laid; and―as I thought of His love, I asked myself, “Can there be greater love than this?” The words of the hymn were certainly in my heart―
“Alas and did my Saviour bleed?
And did my Sovereign die?
Did He devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?
“Was it for sins that I had done
He bled upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!”
On Friday evening (the Jewish Sabbath), February 2nd, 1872, I visited Mr. Stern, who engaged with me in earnest prayer; and also on the evening of the Lord’s day, on the morning of which Jesus my Redeemer arose from the dead, I renewed my devotions in the house of my true Christian friend.
The service was conducted in Hebrew, and I received Christian baptism in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. A large number of Jews attended the service, drawn together by curiosity.
After the service was over they followed me, throwing stones and old slippers at me, reproaching me with bitter things, so that I was very glad to escape to the “Home.” Yet, as I looked at the crowd of Jews following me, I could but pray for them. They were my own people according to the flesh. “Lord, have mercy on them, for they know not what they do.”
One evening after this I visited an old Jewish friend, who opening the door shook hands warmly with me. Then he inquired where I lived, and what I was doing. I hardly knew how to answer him, for to confess Jesus I knew would offend him, while to deny Christ I dare not. Then these words of His came to my mind, “Whosoever shall be ashamed of Me and of My words, of him shall the Son of Man be ashamed, when He shall come in His own glory.” (Luke 9:2626For whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words, of him shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he shall come in his own glory, and in his Father's, and of the holy angels. (Luke 9:26).)
“What do you think of the ‘Messiah?” I inquired of him.
“Do you believe in the impostor?” he cried.
“Whom do you call an impostor?” said I.
“Why, Jesus Christ.”
“My friend, you may call Him so, but He is my own blessed Saviour and Redeemer,” I said, and I sought to show him the truth.
My friend then spat in my face, and commanded me to leave his house, slamming the door upon me. This was a great discouragement, but I prayed for grace and courage.
A few days later I met a young Russian acquaintance; he was so delighted to see me that he fell upon my neck, in the middle of the London street, and kissed me. After a little conversation, he found I believed it Jesus, and in a moment his whole manner to ward me changed. Away, you dog! Away you wretch!” he cried, and spitting in my face he turned away.
No one has a just idea what trials a Jew who really becomes a Christian, has to passed through. I received several threatening letters, warning me of death unless I gave up Christianity. The following instance will show the intense hatred the Jews have against any one of their number who becomes a Christian. I called upon a family of pious Jews, after I had become a Christian, and introduced the subject of the Messiah to them. They did not speak it of His name like others, and were apparently kind towards ill, asking me to visit them again and again, which I did with pleasure. But I began to suspect something was wrong, and felt I must be on my guard. One afternoon a young Jew met me, and promised, if I would vow not to declare his name, that he would tell me something of importance. He then said a plot had been made to poison me in the house of this old friend, and that I was to be offered a glass of wine, which would be my death.
God thus intervened and spared my life and I realized the truth of the words of Jesus “They shall put you out of the synagogues: yea, the time cometh, that whosoever killeth you will think ‘that he doeth God service.’ (John 16:22They shall put you out of the synagogues: yea, the time cometh, that whosoever killeth you will think that he doeth God service. (John 16:2).)
But far more bitter than the hatred of the Jews in England, and their attempts on my life, were the letters I received from my home. My beloved father wrote: — “Oh, woe is me! woe is me! you have filled us with eternal shame and disgrace. Since we heard that you are a believer in the bastard we have not ceased to weep. Cursed is the hour when I was married! Better far had it been if I had been born a stone and not a man! Woe is me! bitter is me! Will you not have mercy upon us? Oh, do be mindful of us and repent and turn away from the Christian faith. Think of your father and mother sisters, and brothers, whose days you have darkened.
“Remember, my beloved Isaac, you cannot find a father or mother in the world. I cannot rest because of my sorrow. Oh, Isaac! Isaac! Isaac! through you I shall never be able to enjoy heaven. What is my life? ―better had I never been born. Your mother has become a different being since she heard the dreadful news. Your brothers and sisters, oh! would it not be better for God to take their lives away than to leave us to go in old age in shame to the grave? My prayer is that God may cut off our whole family, rather than we should live in the misery you have brought upon us, or else I pray God to cut you off.
“What is the hope of a Jew but to have his good sons in remembrance in after generations? But woe is me! for the remembrance that I brought you up will be shame and eternal disgrace.
“Your brother Hessel is most prosperous in the province of Grodno and Kovno, but when I think of you I wonder why the Lord God has cursed me with such a curse.
“ ... It was on the feast of Purim that we received the bad news. Imagine how we received it! Your mother became sick and sightless; I fell fainting to the ground; all our children stood about weeping and lamenting. Then many people gathered around us; they lifted me up from the ground and called me to life, asking what had happened. What answer could I give?”
“Your mother prays each day to God to end her life, and wishes every minute she were dead, for her son is meshamad.”
“ ... You have yet time to repent, and then, at least, you will be saved in the world to come. Return home and become a pious. Jew.
“But if you will not do this―if you will not repent―then we will have nothing more to do with you. We want neither your money nor your photograph; nay, we will not count him to be our son who has become a meshamad.
“If you do as I write you, may great happiness be yours, and may God bless you, but if you do not, then farewell I farewell! farewell I am not your father, your mother is no longer yours, your sisters and brothers are no longer your relatives, and you can no longer claim the name of a Jew.”
My sister wrote in the same pitiful strain, “Dear tender and loving brother, have compassion on us and let us not be covered with shame and everlasting disgrace. Remember, we are only children; destroy not our world. Oh! pour not out our blood in shame, for we are your little sisters, and your brothers are young children.”
I wrote some twenty-five letters to my father after receiving this last one from him, but he never answered them, and the last he would not even receive, and it was returned to me.
How can my anguish be described upon receiving this last letter from my father, for my parents were dearer to me than my life. Yet it was so—my parents, for whom I could shed the last drop of blood, had cut me off. But it was necessary, I had to take up my cross and follow Christ my Lord. Oh! how I have wept when at my work as I considered the state of my beloved parents.
My brother wrote to me in the same strain, concluding his letter thus: “Once more. Do turn! do repent! but if you do not, then good-bye, good-bye forever. Never shall we know, never shall we wish to know, anything about you, either in this world or that which is to come.
“Unless you repent and become a Jew I ask you not to write to me, for I count you to be dead and would to God that it were so. I must tell you that our darling brother Jonah Abel is dead, and that we are all convinced that had you not sinned against the great God, by turning away from Him, our house would not have been visited by the angel of death. Remember that our beloved Jonah Abel has died because of your sins. Oh bitter, bitter is our life! One has become a meshamad, the other has died. Would to God we all had died, or else that you might be cut off by death.”
But most affecting to me of all was the letter of my mother.
“.... I ask you, darling Isaac, to consider the step you have taken, for remember you soul will be damned forever. Oh! how grievous to me to think of my child, my own flash and blood, for whose happiness I would sacrifice all that I could, damned—eternally damned! Better, it were better, if the Almighty had dealt with me as with Lot’s wife; better if I had never been born than to live to old age to see my most beloved son fall into the hands of the devil and be forever lost.
“Isaac, through your perversion, I fear that our family will also be condemned, for there will always be a curtain between the throne of God and our family. Think of your loving and tender mother and your devoted father, through you cursed by God I think of your two little sisters clothed with everlasting shame and disgrace. They are even now ashamed to go out in the open street, for the children of the neighbors cry after them ‘Sisters of Isaac, the meshamad.
“If you refuse my advice, and do not turn, I am no longer your mother. Do not write again to me unless you repent, and if you do not, I shall not want to think of you, but my prayer is, may you repent, or, may God take your life and ours.”