Volumne 15 Number 4
March/April 1999
Adar/Nisan/Iyyar 5759

From the Promised Land To the Promised One.

The Testimony of Mitchell Harris Rubin

I guess the story starts where a lot of my generation calls home; the Holy Land, Brooklyn, N.Y. After spending the first year of my life living over a paint store my parents decided to make Aliyah to the new promised land, Queens. It was there in the predominately Jewish community of Howard Beach, that I spent my childhood and teenage years. I attended synagogue and Hebrew school like most good Jewish kids. Being the product of a broken home, I also learned early on what it meant to be independent and self-sufficient. As the years went on though, these qualities would turn into bitterness and rebellion, causing me to draw farther and farther away from “normal” society. One of the bright spots of my life was my love for music; playing the drums and dreams of being a rock star gave me the impetus to keep going on. Playing in the rock clubs of Long Island gave me the adrenaline rush I craved, but it also introduced me to the destructive elements of the world. It was after I moved back from Hollywood to N.Y. and gave up my dream of “making it” in the music world that life’s darker side began to eat away at my soul. Without my dream to live for, life really didn’t seem to have much meaning. It was only a lifelong desire to truly find the meaning of life that pushed me into another day, hoping somehow one-day things would change.

While living in California again, I began reading a Bible that a fellow chef had given to me in his attempts to show me that his faith in Yeshua (he called him Jesus) was for me as well. “You’re Jewish, read Hebrews!” he would tell me. So I started reading, alone in my studio apartment, wondering how anything that took place so long ago could have any meaning in my life in the here and now. Oddly enough, I had always had a strange fascination with this man from Nazareth. Being born on “Good Friday”, I always felt a strange connection to him as I was growing up. How could I have known that my “birth” could only have meaning because of His death (and resurrection!) With the small spark of hope that was still burning in me, I decided to move back to New York to start over. I remember telling myself that anyone who could perform miracles could do something as easy as getting me back home. I packed up my car and headed out with $174.00 and a three-pound box of Oreo cookies. I had decided not to call my family until I made it safely back in order to insure that it was really a trip of “faith”. No one on earth knew where I was, or where I was going. As I was to soon find out, that was exactly where G-d wanted me; alone with no one else to turn to or depend upon.

After running out of money somewhere in Pennsylvania, I proceeded to drive into the biggest blizzard in the history of the Northeast. Out of gas, my car stalled out on the highway with blinding snow being whipped at me from all directions. As the snow started piling up around my car, fear gripped me like it never had before. Everyone who had any sense was already safely home. The roads were deserted and for the first time in my life I truly thought I was going to die. Fear was soon replaced by anger, and I got out of the car and started screaming and cursing at G-d. I’m not sure how many people truly experience it, this coming to the end of your rope. In reality, it was coming to the end of my ego. There was nothing I could rely on to save me. No witty remarks, no snappy humor, no good looks, (well I had them then) just an utter sense of helplessness. A disastrous situation for the “self”, but exactly where G-d does his best work in men. I got back in my car and something (or someone) just told me to pray. After telling G-d that I would change if He would just get me out of this one, I closed my eyes and tried starting the car again. It started! Must be a fluke I thought I’d better hurry up and get off the highway before it stalls again. Not only did it not stall, it ran all night long until the next morning with the heater going the whole time to keep me from freezing to death!

The rest of the trip gas was paid for with a credit card, which my sister had given me a year before. When I called and told her I was using the card she told me she had canceled it six months before. The next time I tried the card, it was denied! By then I was well on my way to believing in Yeshua as my Messiah. I eventually made my way down to the new Jewish Promised Land, Florida. In time, I began to see the Jewishness of the Bible revealed, and my calling in Messianic Judaism was without question, G-d’s will for my life. Yeshua said, “He who is forgiven much, loves much” (Luke 7:47). It is that spirit that enables me to serve joyfully here at Kehilat Ariel in my capacity as Youth Leader, or in being able to play the drums again, one of the true joys of my life. After fourteen years of not playing at all, now I get to live out Psalm 150:5 every Shabbat! Only now I play for G-d, and my joy is complete in Him. It has been a long journey from one “promised land” to another. I am blessed to have found the “Promised One” given to our people Israel and for all nations. Baruch Hashem!

URL:http://www.kehilatariel.org/3_4_99.html

Last Modified May 10, 1999