When I arrived in Southern California to speak at several large churches and visit a controversial cross in the desert, I did not anticipate attending Jewish High holy Day services. This weekend, of course, included the start of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, the holiest day of the Biblical year. As you know, I am Jewish by upbringing, but Christian by faith. As a child I attended these solemn services (that included the excruciating discipline of fasting) in our family’s synagogue in Niagara Falls, New York. My brother and I also occasionally led Messianic believing observances of this important day during our Buffalo years. Back then we had a Messianic Jewish congregation that complimented our larger “gentile church.” Both continue to thrive 15 years after Paul and I left that ministry to pursue what we are doing today.

Rev. Rob Schenck and Pastor Steve Mays in prayer shawls and skullcaps!

While Yom Kippur has a different meaning to me now as a Christian–Jesus the High Priest having entered once and for all into the Holy Place to make atonement–the ritual retains great meaning for me. In the period between Rosh Hashanah, the beginning of the Biblical year, and Yom Kippur, Jews observe ten “Days of Awe.” Mental, emotional and spiritual focus is placed on reflecting on one’s sins, moral and ethical failings and broken relationships and promises. On the eve of Yom Kippur, Jews recite a special prayer called the “Kol Nidre,” meaning “All vows.” It’s an extraordinary prayer uttered not in the traditional Hebrew, but Aramaic, known to Christians as the language Jesus spoke to His disciples. Jews will explain that is done because Jews in 15th-century Spain needed to mask their chants to avoid detection by religious persecutors who knew the Hebrew tongue. I see a deeper significance, in that Aramaic, the language of Christ, is used on the very day Christians remember his ultimate and permanent sacrifice for our sins.

But back to my story: It was while I was with Pastor Steve Mays of the dynamic Calvary Chapel South Bay that he introduced me to a brand new acquaintance of his, a very successful Israeli businessman. He accepted Steve’s invitation to attend a service at the church on the Sunday morning of Yom Kippur Eve. In reciprocity, the man invited Steve and me to the service he was sponsoring for his Orthodox Jewish synagogue. We accepted and had one of the most extraordinary experiences of our lives.

First of all this was an O-R-T-H-O-D-O-X congregation, complete with a drape down the middle of the sanctuary separating the women and children from the men. The Rabbi and Chazon (or prayer leader and chanter) wore the special “kittle” or white robe signifying forgiveness of sin. Steve and I donned “kippot” or skull caps, reminding us God is above our heads, and tallitot, or prayer shawls, with the customary fringes at the edges signifying God’s Commandments.

As the service got underway, it became clear that our host was a big wig in the congregation, and had the privilege of picking one of just three men to be honored by holding the sacred scrolls of Scripture during the most important of the prayers. This is a huge privilege in Jewish religious tradition. I was stunned when he pointed to me and directed that i should go forward to the “bema” or platform, in front of the Ark, where the sacred scrolls are kept. One was handed to me. I was overwhelmed as it reminded me of the awe I sensed in the Temple as a child. I then joined the other two men in processing through the crowd as they honored God’s Word by kissing the scrolls or reverently touching their hands to them. I cried as I dedicated the act to my recently deceased father, Henry Paul Schenck,

Our host knew I was a believer in Jesus as Yeshua, the promised messiah, and many prayers asking for the soon coming of “Moschiach,” as the Anointed is known to Jews. It didn’t matter to him. He was deeply blessed to have a Jewish Believer and Gentile pastor as his guests for this, the most important Day of his year. It was an extraordinary privilege. Thank God for awesome blessings–and Blessed Yom Kippur, no matter how you celebrate it!

As I post this, Pastor Tuvai Faatai (Too’-vye Fah’-tye) of Calvary Chapel South Bay (Gardena, CA) is driving me deep into the Mojave Desert that stretches between California and Nevada. We’re on our way to view the now famous Mojave Desert Cross, a war memorial erected by veterans of World War I to honor all those who made the ultimate sacrifice for the United States. As you probably know by now, the Cross was ordered by a federal judge to be removed. Upon appeal, it was ordered to be covered and will be the focus of a Supreme Court case on October 7. I’ll be in the courtroom on that day, so I wanted to see with my own eyes the Cross–and the shameful plywood box that now covers it. Faith & Action signed onto a special brief filed with the Court arguing that this cross is not a violation of the so-called “separation of church and state”, but an entirely appropriate acknowledgement of the men and women who sacrificed their lives for our freedoms. In their honor it should be restored to its original integrity!

The Cross stands on a craggy hilltop just off Cima Road in–well–the middle of nowhere. To help locate it precisely, I spoke to a park ranger on the phone. She warned me the nearest bottle of water is 25 miles from the site. So, we’re well-stocked with bottles of water, food and extra power. It’s been a long time since my ancestors wandered in the desert, so I thought it best to be over-prepared rather than get caught short! It’s a seven-hour round trip, so I’ll spend most if my day in the car, with just a short stop at the Memorial. I’ll send photos and video.

The remoteness of the Cross’s location goes to prove the ridiculous extent to which the ACLU and its allies will go to purge the American landscape of anything that smacks of our Judeo-Christian heritage. If this cross, in the middle of nowhere, is not safe, than what symbol is safe?

If you haven’t signed the Mojave Desert Cross petition at our website, please do so now. I also need you to forward it to family, friends, fellow church members and anyone else you know who cares about the soul of our American civilization. Our goal is to reach 50,000 petitions before the Supreme Court hears the case. Please help by forwarding the petition today as far and wide as possible!

Be back with more from the desert . . .

Rob +

PS Pastor Tuvai just pointed to an amazing site: The Ten Commandments posted on ten signs lining the desert highway–one for each of the Commandments. Hmm . . . maybe we made a wrong turn and ended up in Sinai instead of Mojave! Oh look, there’s Moses now! (No, I guess not. Just a crusty old desert ranch hand!)

OK, with a slight blush, I’ll admit it—I’m a fan of Dancing with the Stars. I know, you’re shocked, but Cheryl will tell you, I’ve been a long-time fan of, yes—gulp—ballroom dancing!

Well, last night’s episode really took the prize for me: Who danced up a storm and delighted the studio audience? None other than the much maligned, caricaturized and sometimes-demonized TOM DELAY, former congressman and Majority Leader of the United States House of Representatives. The celebrity panel of judges was stupefied.

I had a lot of contact with Mr. DeLay during his storied years on Capitol Hill. He was one of the first recipients of our Ten Commandments plaques, which he promptly displayed in his impressive US Capitol office. Washington Post reporter Peter Baker made note of those prominent Tablets from Sinai in his book, The Breach, about the Clinton Impeachment trial.

Notwithstanding the deliberate media distortion of DeLay, I knew the other side of him that was on full display last night. It’s true he could be a rough player in the game of politics, earning him the nickname, “The Hammer.” He also made his share of mistakes. (Join the club!) Yet Tom DeLay was one of the kindest and most spiritual people I’ve met in this town.

Here’s an example: Not only can Tom Delay dance–he can also pray–and save people’s lives. On the now infamous day in 1998 when a deranged gunman barged past security and shot two officers dead, I was upstairs leading another presentation of the Commandments. As we were evacuated, I learned one of the victims was Mr. DeLay’s personal bodyguard.

As gunfire was exchanged just outside his office, Mr. DeLay frantically herded staff and tourists into his office, bolted the double doors, and sheltered them inside a prayer circle.

I could go on and on, say, about Mr. and Mrs. DeLay’s highy personal ministry of taking in an extraordinary number of foster children, but that’s all well documented.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the people I serve in ministry here—no matter their politics—they are every bit as human—and every bit as complex as any of us.

Just ask me about Nancy Pelosi . . .

It used to be that my time on Capitol Hill demanded so much I had to cut back on being out among our ever-expanding network of churches around the country. But, times are changing! My able assistant and chief of program, Peggy Nienaber, is doing such a great job keeping the ministry moving forward, I can get out more often. So keep an eye on the event calendar to see when I’ll be near you.

Oops—they’re ordering me to shut down as we start our landing. Watch for more—and write me!

You already know about the Mojave Desert Cross. This is the humble war memorial erected by WWI veterans. The ACLU successfully got a court order for it to come down. The order was stayed, but the cross was ridiculously shrouded by a hideous plywood box. I’ll visit it for the first time next week and will send you video from there.

This enormously consequential case will be argued before the Supreme Court on October 7. I’ll be there in a reserved seat as a guest of the marshal of the court. As you know, we submitted a legal brief to the Court documenting the religious history of our American civilization. Check it out on our website—and sign the petition! I spoke about all this with the principal lawyer in this case the other night, along with our friend Jay Sekulow of the ACLJ. They’re reasonable confident of a win by a slight margin, but much more needs to be done—most important, of course, is more prayer!

I’m writing to you on a very short flight to New York, so this may be cut short, but I’ll continue to post again throughout the day.

Health Care Reform: I tried to avoid getting into the weeds of the health care reform debate because I’m just not an expert on the structure of such an overhaul. I left the initial phase of it to good people who research this stuff for a living. I also know enough Christian physicians and other health care professionals engaged in the process to feel confident there are informed voices speaking for the Christian community.

However, I’ve been asked by lawmakers and journalists what I think should come of health care reform. I’m prayerfully developing my thinking on that. The Bible says there’s safety in the multitude of counselors, so I’m reaching out to you for help.

What do YOU think should be involved in health care reform? What are your concerns? What have been your experiences with no insurance, private insurance or government insurance? What do think Christians ought to say and do as this debate continues? What you think of President Obama’s proposals? What about what the Congress has done or not done so far? I’d really like to hear from you and value your opinion and insight highly.

I want to hear from you so badly on this question, I’ll give you my private E-mail to write me: rob@faithandaction.org. Just keep it short and polite, please. Otherwise, I’ll delete you!

So far, I’ve participated in several meetings of various groups to hammer out a coherent and cohesive statement from a broad base of Christian communities. We’ve identified four areas of concern:

1) Paramount value and dignity of all human life. This begins with the pre-born, continues through life, especially with the disabled, and remains until the moment of natural death. One journalist asked me almost accusatorily, “Do you think we should test, treat and operate on every person for as long as they’re breathing?” My answer was, “Of course, if that’s what they choose, or if they are unable to choose. No one should make that choice for them.”

The come back was predictable, “Well, isn’t that the same as the pro-choice argument for abortion?”

My answer: “Of course not. In health care, it’s the patient, or the patient’s parents of guardian that makes the decision whether to be treated, tested or operated on. In abortion, the “patient”, or unborn child, doesn’t get to chose or have an advocate. She has no voice or choice at all.

2) Care should not be denied to anyone who seeks it, whether it is diagnostic, curative or palliative.

3) Health care must be provided without prejudice, especially regarding the disabled, or “suspected to be disabled.” The reports of misdiagnosis and exaggerated diagnosis are enumerable. I spoke with a neonatologist the other day who talked about the atrocious numbers of misdiagnosis on Down Syndrome and other genetic abnormalities. He is so concerned; he’s become a nearly full-time advocate for disabled children, who are routinely denied care because they are considered unworthy of it.

4) Whatever shape health care reform takes, it must fully and in detail unequivocally conform to President Obama’s assurance that, “not one penny of federal dollars will be used for abortion.” That includes, of course, no federal dollars to facilitate abortion. So, no political sophistry here. We will hold the Congress publicly accountable. Robbing from Peter’s account to pay Paul’s account won’t do. The Prsident made a bold promise: “Not one penny.” So, abortion industry, you’re on your own. No federal dollars to help you—not even a minute of a federal worker’s time to order the electronic funds transfer or cut the check!

One of the benefits I enjoy as a minister on Capitol Hill is meeting a constant flow of fascinating, enjoyable and highly effective people who contribute to our culture and civilization in remarkable ways.

Some of these people are very visible and constantly in the public eye. Others are quiet and unassuming, but often they are the ones doing the most remarkable work.

My friend and neighbor to Faith and Action’s ministry center, Nancy Hansen, is such a person, and her friend, Sue Casey, of Portland, Oregon, is in the same league. Nancy worked behind-the-scenes in the White House for a good part of her career. She’s now “retired”—and doing more good than ever!

On Monday Nancy presented her friend Sue as the speaker for our regular weekly breakfast group that meets in the US Capitol’s prestigious Mansfield Room. The two met each other after Nancy’s late husband, the inimitable Bob Hansen, director of the Botanic Gardens on the Capitol grounds, helped Sue launch a unique project called “Remember Me Rose Garden.”

Sue explains, “’Remember Me Rose Garden is an organization dedicated to creating a living tribute, affirming life and honoring the memory of those who died in the attacks against America on September 11, 2001.”

These rose gardens will be established on or near each of the crash sites, in New York City, the Pentagon and Stonycreek Township, Somerset County, Pennsylvania.

This effort to ensure none of these precious victims or their families will ever be forgotten has more than a traditional story to it. This idea was not born in a conference room filled with public relations professionals. This magnificent vision of living tributes came from a literal epiphany.

Sue told me that part of this already unusual story during a visit with Nancy to our own Prayer Garden on Capitol Hill. Please watch the video below and then check out www.remember-me-rose.org. This is an excellent project for churches, Sunday school classes and fellowship groups. We hope to have our own Remember Me Roses planted in our Prayer Garden here at our ministry center.

God has His people deployed in all the right places. Sue Casey is one of those chosen few! Our prayer for her is Psalm 90:17, “May the favor of the Lord our God rest upon her and confirm the work of her hands. Yes, indeed, prosper the work of her hands.”

I got word Friday morning that faithful pro-life advocate Jim Pouillon  (pronounced pull-yahn’) of Owasso,

Michigan, had been murdered in broad daylight while holding a sign with the word “Life” and a friend’s baby’s picture on it.

I did not know Jim personally, but Rev. Pat Mahoney told me of Jim’s nearly twenty years of dedicated pro-life work and his peaceful, grandfatherly personality. The retired autoworker identified himself as “Jim from Michigan.” In pro-life circles, was called, “Jim with the signs.” I’ve subsequently learned lots of my friends and colleagues knew him. One of them had talked to Jim the day before he was gunned down.

Pat Mahoney felt guilty because he hadn’t returned a call earlier in the week to Jim. It was apparently about Jim’s plans to join us for the prayer vigil at the Capitol that began last night.

The mystery of what lay behind Jim’s brutal death was solved almost immediately when suspect Harlan James Drake was taken into police custody. The 33-year old admitted he was irritated by Jim’s message. There was no question the shooter targeted his victim because of his pro-life beliefs and practices.

That’s why another mystery persisted a bit longer.

When a so-called “pro-life” activist similarly victimized abortion business owner Dr. George Tiller last May, President Obama issued a statement condemning the killing the very same day.

No such statement came on Friday . . . or Saturday.

It wasn’t until Sunday afternoon that the President spoke, and then only after a group of pro-life leaders and I spoke out at a news conference in front of the Department of Justice. (Watch for video to post here later on Monday.)

And journalists repeatedly called the White House asking for a response. It did come, but not until Sunday afternoon.

Considering the heinous nature of the attack, on a peaceful and innocent man—who was exercising the first among his constitutionally protected rights—on an issue the President had spoken about before—Sunday was two days too late.

I was in our Faith and Action Virginia office that morning. My office manager burst in to tell me a plane had collided with one of the Trade Towers in New York City. We got a live stream news feed up on one of the computers. Once we learned it was likely hostile, someone amazingly arrived with a small television set. Just as we powered it up, the second plane hit and everyone knew it was an attack. There were garbled reports of another plane–or maybe two–headed for Washington. Then came the report of a plane hitting the Pentagon.

Our ministry center on Capitol Hill was under renovation at the time, and my newly college graduated daughter and niece were staying temporarily at the building. I called and ordered them to leave the city immediately.

“Get into your cars and head east, away from Capitol Hill,” I barked. I was concerned one of the other still airborne planes was headed for the US Capitol, just one block west of our building. If it hit, burning debris would be propelled toward our building. If it missed, the plane could wipe out the entire neighborhood.

“But Dad,” my daughter Anna nervously responded.

“No but!” I uncharacteristically shouted back. I worried that time was running out. Planes travel very fast.

“Just get in your car now, abandon the building and go east. Just go east!” I yelled.

“But Dad,” she said again, this time with a warbled voice.

“No, but Dad! Get in your car now!”

“But Dad,” she said, “What direction is east?”

I was at once in a panic and laughing. They got out and spent the next two days in a small tourist hotel.

Meanwhile, we watched in horror as the the reports came in. I led a procession of clergy to the Pentagon site to lay roses for the victims and recite the Lord’s Prayer. Hundreds of tourists and passers by joined us. Even a famously skeptic journalist knelt and prayed. Then I got on a train to New York City to find friends that lived in the shadow of the Towers, but from whom we had heard nothing. All phone lines, mobile towers and the Internet in the area were down.

When I found them I learned they had all personally witnessed the entire tragedy. Pastor Jan Kirk van der Swaagh was packing his large family into a station wagon for a trip. One of his boys said, “Dad, look a plane!” Then they saw it hit the Tower just blocks away. By the time I got to them, their street had become a parking lot for cars exhumed from Ground Zero. An SUV was filled with debris. An infant’s car seat was barely visible in the back and a dust-laden Teddy Bear lay on the windshield.

The pastor and I made our way on foot to the epicenter to see how we could help. As we approached, it was like entering a set for a movie about the apocalypse. Once impressive structures were now hulking, charred, and partially collapsed steel skeletons. Ground Zero itself was a smoking heap surrounding a deep, burning cavity in the earth. It looked like the mouth of Hell. A police officer gave me a mask and pointed to my the gray powder covering my shoes.

“There’s thousands of people in that ash on your feet,” he said grimly. “A lot of my buddies on on your feet.”

The pastor and I prayed with many of the first responders at the site. Some of the firefighters had been working for 36 hours without sleep. There was so much pulverized glass in the air that a few had bleeding eyes from the abrasion.

When I returned to Washington and inspected our building, we decided to close for a week. It was a terribly sad time. I ministered to many families who had lost loved ones. I volunteered at the Pentagon site, which burned for days.

It was a defining moment for our nation–the world–and me.

Let us not forget the magnitude of evil and suffering on that day–and how they were more than matched in the heroism and sacrifices of so many.