Messianics Rising - Barry Yeoman

Fairfax, Va. (JTA) — The smell of fried latkes
permeates Darrin and Sharon Speck’s twostory
townhouse in this Washington suburb. It’s
the second night of Chanukah, and the couple
have gathered some friends and neighbors to
celebrate.
Three-dimensional Stars of David dangle
over the entrance to a living room scattered
with chocolate gelt. Small children, including
two of their own, crawl around and babble.
The only incongruous element is the Marty
Goetz CD. The Jewish-born former Catskills
singer found Jesus in 1978, and now his rendition
of “Ma’oz Tzur” blends seamlessly into
“Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.” Otherwise there
are few cues in the room that the Specks are
Christian.
With the music playing quietly, a dozen
people gather around the menorah.
“Baruch atah Adonai…” begins one of their
friends, a tall man in his 30s with a dark, bushy
mustache. He recites the traditional blessings
in Hebrew and English, then lights the candles
and carefully replaces the shamash.
“B’shem Yeshua HaMashiach,” he concludes
in an improvised flourish, using a Hebrew
phrase that means “in the name of Jesus the
Messiah.”
The Specks are part-time staffers at Chosen
People Ministries, an international organization
dedicated to bringing Jews to Christ. They
‘Friendship’ evangelists
eschew street, cozy up
to prospective converts
practice “friendship” or “relational” evangelism:
trying to win converts by building intimate
connections with neighbors, friends and
clients.
Relational evangelism is a time-consuming
process that often involves personal conversations
followed by invitations to a church or
religious-themed event — in the case of the
Specks, their annual Passover seders and Purim
and Chanukah parties.
Practitioners are less likely to interact on a
street corner and more apt to invite potential
converts to their homes. They are also more
likely to be effective, Jewish and Christian
experts say.
Darrin Speck, a 30-year-old remodeling
contractor from a blue-collar family in Canton,
Ohio, welcomes the guests into his home. Blue
eyed and small framed, he has a firm bear hug
and a strong jaw that frames a gap-toothed
smile.
Speck projects an utter absence of guile:
During months of interviews with JTA, he
answered scores of personal questions at length,
never seeming to measure his words. He and
Sharon, who works with him, can hold down
their end of a conversation on Talmud, holiday
rituals or modern Israeli history. Both deplore
the confrontational tactics of street evangelists.
They call themselves “postmodern missionaries.”