TIME IS RUNNING OUT
By: S.R. Shearer
The other day I received an email from Bob Mertes, whom
I mentioned in my article, "Understanding
What You Will Be Facing during the Tribulation." The
email read in part,
"... Steve you have to trust that others are capable of
hearing from God ... Our Lord has blessed you with great insight,
however, it does not give you license to abuse His people.
That's His people Steve not your people ... I am in a good
place and I know the Lord has been patient with me ... If
you think yourself justified in writing about others the way
you have you better give some thought to who you are attacking.
I love you brother or I wouldn't bother taking the time. Patience
is a fruit of the Spirit. We're all being transformed by Christ
who love Him and want to hear well done my good and faithful
servant. Your responsibility is to blow the trumpet not beat
the saints who love you with it. Guess what Steve we all do
hear from Jesus who are chosen before the foundation of the
earth ... I simply want to follow and hold on to Him.
"Love you, brother.
Naturally enough, Bob is not the only one who has taken me
to task for the way I "attack the brethren." There are many,
many others - all of whom chide me for being "unkind" and "unloving."
In all of this, I am reminded of the story of Moishe the
Beadle as told by Elie Wiesel in his book, Night.
Born in the town of Sighet, Transylvania (now a part of Romania,
then a part of Hungary), Wiesel was a teenager when he and his
family were taken from their home in 1944 to the Auschwitz concentration
camp, and then to Buchenwald. Night is the terrifying
record of Wiesel's memories of the death of his family, the
death of his own innocence, and his despair as a deeply observant
Jew confronting the absolute evil of man.
The term "Beadle" is not to be confused with beetle. It
is a religious term given to the caretaker of a synagogue
Transylvania - then a part of Hungary.
"They called him Moishe the Beadle, as if his entire
life he had never had a surname. He was the jack-of-all-trades
in a Hasidic house of prayer, a shtibl. The Jews of
Sighet - a little town in Transylvania where I spent my childhood
- were fond of him. He was poor and lived in utter penury.
As a rule, our townspeople, while they did help the needy,
did not particularly like them. Moishe the Beadle was
"He stayed out of people's way. His presence bothered no
one. He had mastered the art of rendering himself insignificant,
"Physically, he was as awkward as a clown. His waiflike shyness
made people smile. As for me, I liked his wide, dreamy eyes,
gazing off into the distance. He spoke little. He sang, or
rather he chanted, and the few snatches I caught here and
there spoke of divine suffering, of the Shekinah in
Exile, where, according to Kabbalah, it awaits its
redemption linked to that of man.
"I met him in 1941 [three years into the Second World War].
I was almost thirteen and deeply observant. By day I studied
Talmud and by night I would run to the synagogue to weep over
the destruction of the Temple ... I began studying Kaballah
with him ... and in the course of those evenings I became
convinced that Moishe the Beadle would help me enter
"And then, one day all foreign Jews were expelled from Sighet.
And Moishe the Beadle was a foreigner [i.e., he was
not a citizen of Hungary].
Crammed into cattle cars.
"Crammed into cattle cars by the Hungarian police, they cried
silently. Standing on the station platform, we too were crying.
The train disappeared over the horizon; all that was left
was thick, dirty smoke.
"Behind me, someone said, sighing, 'What do you expect? That's
"The deportees were quickly forgotten. A few days after they
left, it was rumored that they were in Galicia [in Poland],
working, and even that they were content with their fate.
Days went by. Then weeks and months. Life was normal again.
A calm, reassuring wind blew through our homes. The shopkeepers
were doing good business, the students lived among their books,
and the children played in the streets.
"One day, as I was about to enter the synagogue, I saw Moishe
the Beadle sitting on a bench near the entrance. He told
me what had happened to him and his companions. The train
with the deportees had crossed the Hungarian border and, once
in Polish territory, had been taken over by the Gestapo. The
train had stopped. The Jews were ordered to get off and onto
waiting trucks. The trucks headed toward a forest. There everybody
was ordered to get out. They were forced to dig huge trenches.
When they had finished their work, the men from the Gestapo
began theirs. Without passion or haste, they shot their prisoners,
who were forced to approach one by one and offer their necks.
Infants were tossed into the air and used as targets for the
machine guns. This took place in the Galician forest, near
Killing Jews in the Galician forest near Kolomay.
"How had he, Moishe the Beadle, been able to escape?
By a miracle. He was wounded in the leg and left for dead
"Day after day, night after night, he [i.e., Moishe]
went from one Jewish home to the next [in Sighet] telling
his story and that of Malka, the young girl who lay dying
for three days, and that of Tobie, the tailor who begged to
die before his sons were killed. Moishe was not the
same. The joy in his eyes was gone. He no longer sang. He
no longer mentioned either God or Kabbalah. He spoke
only of what he had seen. BUT PEOPLE NOT ONLY REFUSED TO
BELIEVE HIS TALES, THEY REFUSED TO LISTEN. Some even insinuated
that he only wanted their pity, that he was imagining things.
Others flatly said that he had gone mad.
"As for Moishe, he wept and pleaded: 'Jews, listen
to me! That's all I ask of you. No money. No pity. Just listen
to me'! he kept shouting in synagogue, between the prayer
at dusk and the evening prayer. Even I did not believe him.
I often sat with him, after services, and listened to his
tales, trying to understand his grief. But all I felt was
"'They think that I am mad', he whispered, and tears like
drops of wax, flowed from his eyes. Once I asked him the question,
'Why do you want people to believe you so much? In your place
I would not care whether they believed me or not ...'
"He closed his eyes, as if to escape time. 'You don't understand',
he said in despair. 'You cannot understand. I was saved miraculously.
I succeeded in coming back. Where did I get my strength? I
wanted to return to Sighet to describe to you my death so
that you might ready yourselves while there is still time.
Life? I no longer care to live. I am alone. But I wanted to
come back to warn you. ONLY NO ONE IS LISTENING TO ME ...'
"This was toward the end of 1941. Thereafter, life seemed
normal once again ... I continued to devote myself to my studies
... My father took care of his business and the community.
My grandfather came to spend Rosh Hashanah with us so as to
attend the services of the celebrated Rebbe of Borsche. My
mother was beginning to think it was high time to find an
appropriate match for my sister, Hilda.
"And then the Germans came ..."
And then the German came.
It is in the light of this that I think of Bob's words to me:
"... Steve you have to trust that others are capable of hearing
from God ... Our Lord has blessed you with great insight,
however, it does not give you license to abuse His people."
However, the question here is not so much "INSIGHT,"
as Bob alleges. The Bible is plain enough. The Prophetic Scriptures
are there for anyone to read. Believe me when I say, I have
no "special way" of communicating with God more than anyone
else. He does not come down to me during the night with secrets
He tells to no one else. I - like you - have only the Word of
God - AND THAT SHOULD BE ENOUGH! Jesus said:
"There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in purple
and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day:
"And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was
laid at his gate, full of sores,
"And desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the
rich man's table: moreover the dogs came and licked his sores.
"And it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried
by the angels into Abraham's bosom: the rich man also died,
and was buried;
"And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and
seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom.
"And he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me,
and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in
water, and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame.
"But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime
receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things:
but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented.
"And beside all this, between us and you there is a great
gulf fixed: so that they which would pass from hence to you
cannot; neither can they pass to us, that would come
"Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father, that thou wouldest
send him to my father's house:
"For I have five brethren; that he may testify unto them,
lest they also come into this place of torment.
"Abraham saith unto him, THEY HAVE MOSES AND THE PROPHETS
[i.e., the Word of God]; LET THEM HEAR THEM.
"And he said, Nay, father Abraham: but if one went unto them
from the dead, they will repent.
"And he said unto him, IF THEY HEAR NOT MOSES AND THE
PROPHETS [in other words, the Word of God], NEITHER WILL THEY
BE PERSUADED, THOUGH ONE ROSE FROM THE DEAD." (Luke 16:19-31)
The problem is,
people's heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull
of hearing, and their eyes they have closed."
"... in them is [being] fulfilled the prophecy of Esaias,
which saith, By hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand;
and seeing ye shall see, and shall not perceive:
"For this people's heart is waxed gross, and their
ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed;
lest at any time they should see with their eyes, and
hear with their ears, and should understand with their
heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them." (Matthew
The Word of God stands:
"And I heard another voice from heaven, saying, COME
OUT OF HER, my people, that ye be not partakers of
her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues." (Revelation
18:4) [Please see our article, "Come
out of Her."]
Nonetheless, Bob concludes:
"Steve, I AM IN A GOOD PLACE [meaning North Carolina]
and I know the Lord has been [will be] patient with me ...
Guess what Steve we all do hear from Jesus ..."
That's what Elie Wiesel and the people of Sighet said to Moishe
Once again, we URGE you to read (or re-read):
God bless you all!
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