I’m Barbara Kepp, one of the members of that joyful tribe of Wandering Jews” known as the Liberated Wailing Wall. The reason we’re joyful is that we know the Messiah of Israel, and the reason we’re wandering is that we want to introduce Him to others. Once in a while, though, we return to our home base in San Francisco . The following occurred during one of those times when we weren’t on the road sharing Christ with everyone we met, but we were off the road sharing Christ with everyone we met.

Shayna Turner (another team member) and I were walking down Market Street in San Francisco , on our way to have an extra set of keys made. We saw a sign that said “keys” in a little market, so we entered. There, behind a cluttered counter, stood an elderly couple.

The wife immediately noticed Shayna’s jacket, which said “Jews for Jesus.” She nudged her husband and rapidly whispered to him. Then she started asking us some questions, and we started asking her some questions, and we discovered to our great pleasure that they were a Jewish couple.

I noticed that the husband remained rigidly silent throughout our entire conversation with his wife. She was telling us what a scholarly man her husband was, both in the Scripture and in the Talmud. She said that she could never believe anything her husband did not believe. We encouraged her to read the Bible for herself and to ask God to show her the truth. We started to leave, assuring her that we were really Jewish, and we really believed in Jesus. We paid, thanked them for the keys, and said good-bye.

We were almost out the door, when the husband stopped us.

“I have just one thing to say to you,” he said. I turned around and walked over to him and listened to the same cry I hear from many of my people . “How can you believe in Jesus and be a Christian when all Christians have ever done is kill the Jews?!!”

“Do you think this is what Jesus taught?” I said. “Don’t you see that just because someone is not Jewish, he is not automatically a follower of Christ?”

I pointed out that our faith was based upon the Scriptures. Before we parted, I gently asked him to do me one favor; “Sit down by yourself and read Isaiah 53.” “All right,” he agreed. “And you’ll let your wife read it alone also?” I asked. He nodded.

Shayna and I walked out of that little store feeling pleased that we had been able to share Christ with this elderly Jewish couple. We weren’t on tour; we weren’t doing an evangelistic rally, and we had no tracts with us. We were just a couple of Jewish girls with Jesus in our lives, and God used us .


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