Pastor Urshan's Jerusalem Home

 
 
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In 1948, the Timothy Urshan family, originally from Iran, was forced to leave their Jerusalem home with little except the clothes on their backs. The modern nation of Israel was being born and many people, such as the Urshans, had to leave their possessions and businesses behind. It was an era of conflict, war, and displacement.

One of the sons, Jonathan, was 18 years old at the time and Jerusalem is the only place he had ever called home. Decades later, he became pastor of the Bethel Pentecostal Church in St. Peters, Missouri. He was there about six months when Bill first walked through the doors of the church. Jonathan Urshan was the first person to greet him there. Bill’s life was forever changed by the gospel message preached by this great man of God. Four years later, when I married Bill, Brother Urshan became my pastor also. Our lives have been immeasurably blessed this man’s leadership and also by his wonderful wife’s kindness.

Our apartment in Jerusalem was less than two miles from Pastor Urshan’s childhood and adolescent home in beautiful Rehavia. One day we walked to this lovely neighborhood and located his home on quiet, tree-lined Radak Street. Though the existing house is not the one he lived in, we enjoyed visiting the address. We also frequently passed his school, Terra Sancta College, a large and imposing compound.

During his teaching and preaching, Brother Urshan often references Jerusalem, the Bedouin lifestyle, and aspects of living in this biblical land. After living there and gleaning so much within just three months, it is easy to see how his ministry has benefited by spending his formative years in Israel.

I Need a Hero

We had been living in the Arab world only about a month. A friend of ours told us that he wanted to get back into the army, but was having difficulty due to health problems. He said, “Bill, I need to find a wastah.”

The word was new to us so he explained the concept to us. In the Arab world, a wastah is what Westerners might think of when we say, “It’s all in who you know.” In business arrangements and even everyday life, a wastah comes in handy. This is a person who can be a go-between for you. They can get you to the head of the line, and they cut through red tape for you.

To a great degree, Americans are protected in Jordan. We had two incidents in which total strangers – one was a lieutenant in the Army – gave us their phone numbers and told us to call them if we ever needed their help. That is a wastah. And it was a nice feeling knowing that we could call perfect strangers if we were between a rock and a hard place.

Over time, we were blessed with several other people who became wastahs to us. They helped us renew our visas and purchase a car battery on Friday…the day when all the stores are closed, including auto parts stores. In a land where our total Arabic vocabulary amounted to about 50 words, having a few wastahs came in handy from time to time.

I like the idea of wastah, which rhymes with pasta. I suppose that sometimes it is not good, since the power of a wastah can prevail over merit or ability, but for the most part it is a joined-arms, “I’ll give you a hand-up” kind of thing.

The concept of wastah brings to mind I John 2:1-2 which says “My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: And he is the propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.” The wastah of the Arab world is a life lesson in our limitations and God’s abilities. When we mess up, He lifts us up. When our strength is at an end, He invites us to tap His unlimited resources. He is the best kind of wastah.

I am reminded of a time when we were in a restaurant with a pastor and his family. There were a lot of people at the table and the conversation was loud and lively. A little boy’s feet were twisted in his chair and he was stuck. He tried to get someone to help him but no one heard him over all the adult voices. Finally, we all heard the little guy crying out, “I need a hero!” It was so adorably cute that we couldn’t help but laugh as someone rescued him.

That is a wastah. A hero. Someone that helps us when we can’t help ourselves. I have discovered that God is the Wastah of all wastahs …the best kind of hero.