Sheri Reuter and Rebecca Sommer, “The Heart of the Missionary”

Onni Durst was the consummate missionary. Our earliest memories in the church were of her telling us of the tremendous hope she had to save American young people. She moved us with her genuine love and commitment for a country that was not really her own. From her we learned that the heart of our True Parents was essentially a heart of salvation. Mrs. Durst’s love for God and True Parents was so tangible that she was able to make it a reality in the lives of a bunch of motley hippies who had come from communes across the country and been led to her door. We felt this in her love for us and her belief that we could grow to do God’s will.

We caught that heart from her as she led us in a lifestyle in which every moment centered on witnessing. In the early years, we all worked at jobs outside the church to pay the bills, yet we witnessed every spare moment, whether on the bus, at lunchtime or in a parking lot. The main focus was always to witness, to talk to everyone to find the one who would respond. In those days we came home from work and didn’t even sit down at dinner, just ate quick and went out to meet the people. We also learned God’s heart of loving whoever responds. Some of our early guests were a bit strange perhaps, but we learned how to treat them as kings and queens. This foundation enabled the Oakland family to provide a way to bring thousands of children to True Parents.

After days on the street we clearly came to realize and feel God’s love for His children. We felt God working through us, encouraging us to turn right at a specific corner in order to meet the person who had been praying for guidance in their life. Sometimes it was so clear as spirit world would guide us to exactly the right spot to meet someone. The conditions we set, the fasting, the praying, the chanting, and the hours on the street, enabled God to work through us to save His children.

Our days on the streets were long and the nights at the bus station and airport seemed even longer. The power we had to be out there came from a simple, fundamental faith that in order for God to give His love to His children, we needed to open our mouths. Through a simple, "Hi, where are you from?" whole lives could change. We knew it wasn’t us.

Our clothes were rather strange and we always looked tired, and yet God needed us to be their link. If we were not there at the bus station to meet the 3 o’clock bus from Chicago, how could God have spoken to that person looking for a new direction in their life?

Although the two of us each witnessed quite a bit, we usually led different teams and didn’t spend much time with each other. One of us might be at Fisherman’s Wharf and the other pounding the pavement at Powell & Market. One day we had the opportunity to go together to buy a present for True Father in downtown San Francisco. After we made the purchase, we thought of stopping for a cup of coffee and a sisterly chat. On our way down the street we passed Powell & Market where a street performer had gathered a small crowd. As we glanced at the crowd, two backpacks beckoned to us and we had to stop. The coffee stop was forgotten as we struck up a conversation with the two guys. We invited them to the center for dinner, although one of them was definitely more interested in a place to shower. They agreed to come and we left them with hope in our hearts that they would be there that night. We had already picked the one we thought would be the more righteous of the two and respond to the lecture. They both came to dinner and boarded the bus for the workshop that night. However, our idea of who was prepared was not God’s plan.

The quieter friend responded. He was blessed with a wonderful wife and three lovely children, and they are currently living in New Hampshire.

We felt that through our spiritual children we developed the heart to prepare for our physical children. To be there from the first hello on the street to the full conversion experience in their life takes quite an investment of heart and effort from the spiritual parent. The trials and tribulations of our spiritual children deepened and strengthened our ability to love with a parent’s heart. We had many experiences of an urgent middle-of-the-night drive to the workshop at Camp K in order to prevent a spiritual child from hopping on the bus. As we prayed in tears for that special person for hours in the prayer room or fasted seven days for them, we began to feel just how desperate Heavenly Father was to love His children. We talked and pleaded for them to stay "just one more day," encouraged them to put aside their own plans to be part of building the ideal world, and in some cases even lay down on the road to prevent them from driving away. That intensity seems almost unreal now.

From 40 Years in America, pp. 214-16.

John Parker, “40-Day Pioneer Witnessing Experience”

Of all my experiences in the Unification Church, my 40-day pioneer witnessing experience was one of the most precious. I was doing Home Church in Brooklyn, New York, during the summer of 1980. I was shocked when I heard the announcement that we would now be doing 40-day pioneer witnessing twice a year in the United States, as had been the tradition in Korea and Japan.

The city of Middletown, Rhode Island, was chosen for me. Before long, I found myself on a train headed for a strange place I had never been before, with only a few belongings, a little money, and a little faith. When I arrived in my city, it was already dark. I was scared, but there was no turning back. I took a bus from the train station, and decided to get off near the beach. When I got off the bus, I noticed that the street signs showed that I was at the corner of "Kane Street" and "Purgatory Road." I climbed up some rocks overlooking Rhode Island Sound, found a sandy spot, huddled under my thin jacket, and tried to keep warm. Needless to say, I didn’t have any trouble staying awake during prayer that night. The cold wind made me shiver, and I had a hard time sleeping.

The next day I wandered around the city and prayed for the people there. I asked Heavenly Father what I should do to fulfill the goal of bringing one full time member to the Church. I just started talking to people, and one young Christian invited me to stay with him at his house. It felt so good to have something to eat and a warm place to stay, but the next day he just abruptly kicked me out. I think he had asked his pastor about our movement, and got very negative. So there I was, back out in the elements, without a clue how to survive, much less how to witness to anybody. What little confidence I had was quickly turning into desperation. The next night I slept on the porch of a church, and had a vivid dream. In the dream, one of my first Divine Principle lecturers was stuffing fresh raspberries into my mouth, more that I could eat. She was laughing at me, saying, "John, you don’t have enough faith -- don’t you know that Heavenly Father has already provided for you?" The very next day, as I was walking and praying, I noticed that there were bushes full of ripe raspberries scattered throughout the city! They were so delicious, and filling. I felt so much love from Heavenly Father, and his miraculous provision renewed my hope of at least surviving. Those raspberries turned out to be like my "quail and manna" during my 40-day pioneering.

I found an abandoned house that had been a former Church of God in Christ, and adopted it as my base of operations. I rented a small storage locker at the nearby bowling alley, where I stored what little I had brought with me. Although wild raspberries were my staple food, I also discovered that the grocery stores often threw away expired baked goods, fresh fruit, etc. I checked the dumpsters daily, but there wasn’t always food there. So I used $1 as seed money for fundraising, purchased a box of peanut brittle, sold it, and eventually bought more and more in order to fundraise for food money. I also met a few good contacts during my weekly fundraising efforts. Many days I just prayed, studied Father’s words, or just walked around the town. I felt little confidence in approaching people at first, so I just gave Divine Principle lectures to the spirit world, instead. Every day was a battle just to survive spiritually.

In order to make friends and find a way to win people’s hearts, I handed out the best of the expired baked goods, which had I found behind the grocery stores. On one occasion, I had just handed my contact at the gas station a package of pastries when a policeman drove up in his patrol car, looked at my Unification Church nametag, and promptly arrested me. He drove me to the police station, fingerprinted me, but never told me why he was doing this. He was negative against the Unification Church, and asked me if I had ever sought out psychiatric help. I told him, "No, but I did study psychology in college." I was locked up in a jail cell for several hours, and then a detective came in and asked me some questions. I explained why I was in Middletown -- doing my 40-day pioneer witnessing -- and wondered why I had been arrested. He said that on that day there were fundraisers from the Unification Church who had been kicked out, and they assumed that I was one of them coming back into town to fundraise without permission.

When I explained to the man that all I had done was give a gift of pastries to my contact at the gas station, he looked surprised, and abruptly left my jail cell. A little while later, the original policeman came to my cell, unlocked it, and told me that I was free to go. He looked very embarrassed about the entire incident. After all, he had arrested me without any due cause, and it looked like he had been reprimanded by his superiors for his mistake. I visited various churches in the area, including Roman Catholic, Church of Christ, and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The people were friendly, and we had some interesting discussions about our respective faiths. One time, I visited a Baptist church and attended the service and Bible study. However, the minister was very negative about Reverend Moon, and kept raising his voice as he asked me to get out of his church. The choir director tried to reason with him about letting me at least attend their Bible study, but the minister refused to listen to him, and angrily demanded that I get out and never come back again.

One day on the beach I met a young man about my age. We talked about God and about life, and he didn’t have a problem with the fact that I was from Reverend Moon’s church. I remembered True Father’s words in the Way of Tradition about how we can learn from the birds, who lovingly go out and find food for their young. So I went behind the grocery store and found a dumpster full of fresh strawberries. Greg’s jaw dropped as he gazed upon the strawberries, which I had prepared for him. He excitedly explained how he had just been dreaming about eating strawberries! Wow! He was now convinced that God was showing him that he should come back with me to the workshop. I was very inspired, but I only had one train ticket, and not enough money to purchase another. Greg didn’t have enough money with him either, so we just hitchhiked our way back to New York. The person who picked us up was negative against the Unification Church, but he let us ride with him in his truck anyway. When Greg and I arrived in New York City, we went together to the workshop at Camp New Hope in Accord, New York. After the 7-day workshop, he decided to join the Church!

I am grateful to Heavenly Father and True Parents for making this precious 40-day pioneer witnessing experience possible. Despite my lack of faith, God could work through me to fulfill my goal of bringing one new member to the Church.

From 40 years in America, pp. 206-207.

Mark E. Lincoln, “I was off to the hospital to get stitched up”

I was a CARP member in Texas in the early 80s when Communist rebels were trying to take over El Salvador. CISPES (Committee In Solidarity with the People of El Salvador) was holding a rally and march at the state capitol in Austin. Texas CARP decided to hold a counter-rally and march right behind them. We assembled our 25 or so members, and when they figured out who we were they were livid! I never got to participate in the march because one of their security forces (known as the Brown Berets) cracked me over the head with a pole, knocking me unconscious. Before the march even started, I was off to the hospital to get stitched up. I heard later that we did a good job getting our point of view across.

From 40 years in America, p. 226.

Michael Hendrich, “I felt strongly steered to a particular apartment building”

I became a state leader in various states. Father first sent me to North Dakota for three years. We had state leaders meetings every month. I took the bus, usually. It was the cheapest way to travel to New York from North Dakota.

I did home church in North Dakota. I really enjoyed that kind of witnessing and believe in it very much. I was living near the University campus there and I set up a book table outside of the library, even in the snowy winter months. I had a flip chart and displayed books and a special 1-hour Divine Principle tape which I was inspired to create. It was one of the best things I ever did. The tape was passed around quickly and kids would listen to it in their dorm rooms with their friends. It quickly made its way to one of the most prominent spiritual leaders in the non-Christian community.

One time, when I was fundraising out of necessity, we were told to do a witnessing condition I decided to combine my fundraising with a 7- day fast and asked God to help me find someone to witness to. One day, at the end of the fast, I felt strongly steered to a particular apartment building that I was not intending to go to. When I knocked on one of the doors, a girl answered the door and asked, "Are you with MFT or are you a local member?" I was shocked. She said she had left the Church years ago but that she was hoping she would meet someone who could help her to come back. So many things like this happened.

From 40 Years in America, p. 207

Jonathan Gullery, “From One Strange World to Another”

We lived to witness. We slept to witness. We dreamed witnessing. Witnessing was the purpose of life. Would that there could have been more than 24 hours in the day to witness. In especially zealous periods we would in fact witness 24 hours. I remember those conditions, when we would witness throughout the night in two-hour stints. Our trinity would park a car behind the San Francisco Greyhound Station, and pairs would go out, while the next team would sleep. The least-favored time slot was 3–5 am, because then you would get to arrive home just in time for pledge, house cleaning, morning chanting, and then . . .out witnessing. At least if you got two hours of sleep you felt grateful! I remember (or was it a dream) witnessing with Tim Henry at the San Francisco airport in the middle of the night, and being so exhausted that I collapsed into a vacant wheelchair. He pushed me around, still witnessing! An often-repeated favorite Oakland story was of one pair out late at night. One brother found a good prospect and began talking to him, and turned around to find his partner semi-asleep, drooling on the floor. Those were the days.

Our Spiritual Diet

We wanted to make really good conditions, and understand people in the world who did not have enough, so it was understood that we would always have "liquid breakfast." Orange juice and coffee were not a good combination, even in large quantities. Runny oatmeal passed as liquid, if a little gruelly. Some enterprising cooks, however, had a reputation for defying the laws of physics, and making practically anything liquid. Hearst Street in Berkeley was the place to be! A lot of people who worked in business missions lived there, and needed a little more substantial breakfast. Yesterday’s peanut butter sandwiches, last night’s pizza, all kinds of things would be tossed in the blender, and violá! Liquid breakfast!

One time we initiated an eat-breakfast campaign. Bring a guest for breakfast and you can have some too! This was a big hit, and there was some mighty hard witnessing on the streets of San Francisco in the early mornings. One sister who joined during this period was known as Suzy Pancake for many years.

Our diet, over the period of a year, was probably quite balanced, but we tended to eat one particular thing for a long time. There was the English muffin period. This one lasted a very long time, and it is only relatively recently that I can even face an English muffin again. Muffins became lunch-muffin pbj’s, dinner-muffin pizza, snack, etc. One time we received continual donations of little pizzas. It was remarkable the number of ways to serve and eat these things. Pizza lasagna, pizza soup, etc. The mention of pizza, English muffins, broccoli, and stinky cheese to those who lived in Oakland in those years, will bring smiles and groans.

The Heart of Oakland

In December of 1977, Rick Joswick was convinced that we should begin a musical group -- which became the Heart of Oakland Band. In those days, doing anything other than witnessing was more or less to defy the purpose for which we were created, so it took a great deal of talk and persuasion before we were finally given permission to practice. Rick, Joshua Cotter, Mark Ungar, myself and later Joe Taylor created a partnership which lasted several years. The band could rehearse whenever we wanted, so long as all our public responsibilities were fulfilled. In other words, we were to witness full-time, attend all weekend workshops (every weekend), attend all evening prayers and morning pledge (every morning), and after that we could use our free time to practice! We made a rehearsal room at Hearst Street , and every night, after 11pm prayer at Washington Street in San Francisco (where we lived), we would drive out over the Bay Bridge through Berkeley and practice till around 2 or 3am. Then we’d drive back into the city, catch a few hours sleep till the Red Red Robin came around singing at about 4:45, and then begin our day again. Consequently, it took us a long time to learn new songs.

We "debuted" at a rally on Berkeley Campus, well attended by our ever-present negative faction. It was great! We played at most evening programs, and at weekend workshops. We wrote songs that became church standards, and we loved what we did. But the memory of those rehearsal periods understandably remains a little hazy.

Schedule

The red, red robin came around to wake us up for 5 am pledge every morning. This was followed by a period of house-cleaning, and then back to the main rooms for 30 minutes of chanting. This took the form of "Glory to Heaven, peace on earth, bring 120,000 right now," for about five minutes, and then on to a succession of other things to be accomplished. There we were in a large circle, dressed in our odd "prayer" clothes, swaying back and forth chanting loudly at about six in the morning. Guests would often be sleeping in one of our houses, either people returning from camp before going their way, guests graduating from camp and coming to the city for the first time, etc. No matter how quiet we tried to be, upwards of 60 or 70 people trying to be sincere about chanting could only be so quiet. From time to time a guest would wander in, looking completely confused!

Then on to our somewhat not-solid breakfast. Trinity leaders would then have to make teams for the day. In retrospect we could have used some good planning and scheduling software, because it was always a complicated process, with someone being lost in the fray once in a while. A general panic of "get out of the house, you are spacing out" now prevailed, as witnessing was IT. Off we went, to Powell and Market, Fishermen’s Wharf, Golden Gate Park, fanning out across the city to cast the net.

Lunchtime programs were tried, but sometimes resulted in members becoming stuck in the house again, so we often improvised, bringing guests for lunch wherever we were. If we had what seemed to be a great guest, we would take them to the house right away. I remember one time telling my trinity head that I had had a particularly wonderful guest for evening program. "Did they stay?" I was asked. "Well then, they were not great at all," was the somewhat caustic response to my reply. Then back for the evening program, the event we lived for. It was well organized, well run and generally really quite good. Members entertained, singing, telling jokes, doing magic tricks, and opening people’s hearts. Then Dr. Durst gave the famous Elephant Lecture.

I would like to give you a very brief introduction to the Principles that guide our foundation, Principles that allow us as individuals to realize our full value and to enter into the full value of relationship. . . .

This was followed by a slide show and then invitations to "go up to the land." The van would eventually leave, taking that night’s guests off to Boonville, and later to Camp K, along with their spiritual parent for the week. The house would then quiet down a little, with some late witnessing teams coming in. There would be a little free time, till evening prayer at 11. Time to crash out for most people, though there was always someone fasting, and other trinity members would stay up to prepare a fast-break for midnight. We would make something very simple for the one-day fasters (sometimes just leftovers), while three- and seven-day fasters would get something a little more lovingly prepared and special.

Finally, all was quiet -- the last people had gone to bed, ready to start all over again at five. It was a hectic schedule and an intense life, but we loved it, and we loved each other. We were at the center of the cosmic struggle for spiritual life.

From 40 Years in America, pp. 212-14.

Eric Bobrycki, “We started a shouting and chanting match with the Communists”

It was the May Day celebration of 1980 and I was in Washington leading a CARP fundraising team. Our team had been invited to be a part of the counter-demonstration of the 30,000 Marxist sympathizers camped out near the Capitol. I was not prepared for the day’s events.

The next day, about 500 church and CARP members gathered. The Washington mounted police had no intention of letting us confront the Communists. Tiger Park had other ideas.

I had to park our van. I ended up about 15 blocks away. I could take a short cut through the Communists or go around. No epiphany here -- just abject fear. It must have been the day. I had two placards with me: one said "Castro Out of El Salvador!" and the other had a Soviet hammer and sickle with a diagonal line through it (no to Soviet Communism). I decided to walk through the enemy camp. No reaction at first. I had the signs facing down. I walked and walked and for some reason my arms started raising those placards higher and higher. It must have been angels. The response was not angelic. Several men yelled that they would kill me. I had surprised them -- they only threatened me.

I finally joined our main group. Tiger Park wanted to start the confrontation right away -- we and the Washington police had been unwilling. We finally regrouped and chose our site. We basically started a shouting and chanting match with the Communists. We had better chants and were more organized. I shouted with all my might and wind. My head pounded with each shout -- it felt like we were at it for hours -- but it may only have been an hour. Their heads must have ached too. Our goal had been to get equal press.

We finished. What had seemed like real violence ended quite civilly -- it reminded me of a House of Commons debate. My head ached and I wondered what had been accomplished -- it seemed senseless and quite out of my sphere of creating the Kingdom of Heaven on earth. Then Tiger Park grabbed my hand and he was smiling from ear to ear. He said, "Wasn’t that great!" My immediate reaction was no, but I just smiled back at him. Tiger Park was chatting and carrying on like we just came from a movie or a sporting event. He and I sat down on bench and just smiled and talked on. We then got up and met with the others and he announced what a great victory we had and how proud he was of our courage. I was overcome with pride. Pride in him and proud of being with him.

We did get equal press. The walls did come down.

From 40 Years in America, p. 226

Nora Spurgin, “A lot of good people joined”

It was 1970 and we heard there was going to be a blessing. I was matched to Hugh and he came to Kansas City. Afterwards it was decided that the church would grow more if we were consolidated rather than being scattered.

Hugh and I moved the whole Kansas City center, 14 people, to Berkeley, CA. We lived there for seven months. Then Father spread everyone out again and we were sent to Philadelphia. Our two oldest children were born there. Father came to Philadelphia on his first speaking tour. I had just had our first baby, and she was only about a week old. I was doing PR, calling people to come to the speech while I was in the hospital. Hugh got the mission to go to the Midwest with a bus team. I stayed in Philadelphia until our second child was born. Hugh went to Minnesota, and we followed soon after.

Hugh was the regional leader and had a bus team, and it was such a rich period in our life. A lot of people joined during that time from the regional center in Minnesota. Hugh traveled with the bus team, and I served as an IW who followed to help the members afterwards. We had our children in the Minnesota center.

We bought a workshop site in Iowa and moved our family there. I did advance work or follow-up work and Hugh took the bus team. During that time it was really wonderful. We worked together. The region was growing. We had it down to a science -- about six new members joined every week. There was a 7-day workshop. We’d give talks at the end, and there was a night of commitment. It was exciting; a lot of good people joined.

From 40 Years in America, 46-47.

Joseph Sheftick, “You assisted in the first public speech”

We wanted to improve the membership of the church. We were in the backyard of Upshur House. They had a big yellow school bus pulling up in the yard. I said, "We should use the bus for evangelizing." I was thinking of John Wesley going from town to town on horsebackAa couple of weeks later Young Oon Kim said, "You can have the bus." We took out all the seats except for six. We put a speaker’s platform on top and painted it white. We had a port-a-potty, and a Coleman stove kind of thing. We put "Divine Principle" on the side. We got volunteers. There were five people, and church members contributed about $300. This was December 16, 1971. We were waiting for Father to come. I wanted him to bless the bus team before we left. They wouldn’t give him a visa, so he had to go to Canada from South America because they thought he was a communist.

I contacted Newsweek magazine to see if they would follow up and cover the story of the bus team. In the bus we had bunks for the sisters. There was a curtain, and the brothers slept in the front. The first place we went was to Richmond, VA. We set up at the YMCA so we could wash up and hold the meeting. Newsweek wanted to know what was special about us. And we told them that we believed the Messiah was here and so we were witnessing.

We fasted for three days at the state capitol. The police chief came by; there were news cameras. I met the governor then too. I told him I wanted to talk to him about the Divine Principle. The governor invited me to his office in the morning. We brought Miss Kim’s book and witnessed to him about Father. We spent an hour. I called Miss Kim in Washington. She said Father wants you to come back. He came on December 18th, 1971. I said we wanted to stay a week to find spiritual children. We witnessed, fundraised and taught the Principle. Father said we could stay to witness, so we ended up bringing a girl back for a weekend workshop. We set the precedent for the IOWC. We got newspaper coverage, met the governor and did fasting to get spiritual children.

We returned to Washington. Father and Mother were in Upshur St. Father wanted to see the bus. He wanted the bus fenders painted another color besides black. He came inside and said, "Too fancy."

Then Father said, "I am going to do a 7-City Tour, starting with New York. You find me the largest place you can find, you make the preparations." He wanted to speak at Madison Square Garden for three days in a row. I called them to make arrangements for that month. They said, you’re crazy you can’t have it until next year. We tried Carnegie Hall, and Lincoln Center. They finally had an auditorium for two days, then skip a day, and then we could have the 3rd day. Alice Tully Hall. So Father said yes. It was to be on February 1, 2, and 4. Father had several newspaper interviews and a TV interview with Al Capp. Father turned to him and said, "Do you mind if I sing a song?" And Al Capp said no, so then Father sang, Ari Rong. There were about 20 members in the studio. Around that time he planned the first science conference. It was planned for about 8-12 scientists.

We went to Lincoln Center to sign the agreement. They could see me through a glass door. I gave them the money, and thought nothing of it. We had 77 people staying in a one-family home. We were sleeping in the hall, the bathroom, packed together. The members would invite people and they had to pay $12 or $20 to attend. For people to pay that much to hear a complete stranger who didn’t speak English was difficult. We went out every day. Father was so concerned. He bought candy for us, and wanted to take the burden off everyone. He woke me up early one morning and wanted to go see the members. He was so concerned. He wondered who would emcee for him for the speech, so I volunteered to do it. I introduced him. About two hundred people came.

We formed two more bus teams and got two used city buses. We didn’t know they weren’t cross-country, touring buses. It was all we could afford then. We loaded everyone up. Father flew to D.C. One of the buses broke down by Fredericksburg, and so we got the original bus back.

We went cross-country with only one stop in St. Louis. I called the center and said, "We are stopping at your house to take showers." We made a long line with brothers and sisters taking turns. We needed to get something to eat. We drove day and night; it took four days. Then we went through Arizona and the members got to eat at a diner as kind of a treat. Then we were going to Denver but there was a big snow storm. One person there made bag lunches for everyone. But we had to get to LA to meet Father, so we didn’t go to the center and they were upset because they were stuck with all the sandwiches.

The speech in New York City was the first public speech Father had ever given. This was the first time he had ever spoken to anyone besides church members. Mr. Ishi in San Francisco told me, "Do you know what you did? You assisted in the first public speech.

From 40 Years in America, 41-45