Sunday, September 25, 2011 9:30:08 PM
iMmINeNt RApTUre -- and no doubt you and the Asswarty Crotchrotted Lickspittle Jockitchers bunch would stand just as firmly against offended Christian citizens having standing to challenge a judge's strongly-approving courtroom display of the commands of Sharia law ( http://www.acluohio.org/docket/#EstablishmentClause ; http://www.au.org/what-we-do/lawsuits/archives/aclu-of-ohio-foundation-v.html )
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Christian crusaders cash in
Jay Sekulow of American Center for Law and Justice has won nine cases at the Supreme Court level.
FILE / KRT
Logan Sekulow was paid for media work and other duties at CASE.
Sekulow's family, firm collect millions
Written by Bob Smietana | The Tennessean
4:16 AM, Sep. 4, 2011
Back in the 1980s, Jay Sekulow’s career was in shambles. His Atlanta-based law firm had failed, leaving him millions in debt and bankrupt.
Then he got a lifeline from a surprising source — the U.S. Supreme Court.
Sekulow’s client, San Franscisco-based Jews for Jesus, was locked in a legal dispute with commissioners at the Los Angeles airport. The group wanted to hand out religious literature there. Airport officials said no. Sekulow argued the commission’s actions violated the First Amendment.
The Supreme Court ruled 9-0 in Jews for Jesus’ favor [an obvious and correct decision a woodpecker, or a wood pecker, could and would have won], a victory that launched Sekulow’s new calling as a crusader for Christians who believed their legal rights were being threatened.
Sekulow’s story was chronicled in major newspapers.
For Sekulow, it was like being born again.
“I almost feel like God raised me back from the dead,” he told the Atlanta Journal Constitution in 1991. “It was a spiritual rebirth.”
Sekulow, a celebrity among conservative Christians, now sits as the principal officer of two closely related multimillion-dollar legal charities: Christian Advocates Serving Evangelism, which he founded in San Francisco, and the better-known American Center for Law and Justice, founded by Christian broadcaster Pat Robertson and based in Virginia Beach.
Jay Sekulow Live — a call-in radio show sometimes produced at the Sekulow Media Group studio in the Factory in Franklin — draws millions of listeners. He’s a regular commentator on Fox News and splits his time living between Franklin and the Washington, D.C., area. Attorneys from his two charities are suing to rescind national health-care reform and to block the proposed mosque near ground zero.
Along with its spiritual benefits, Sekulow’s new calling has come with significant financial benefits.
Since 1998, the two charities have paid out more than $33 million to members of Sekulow’s family and businesses they own or co-own, according to the charities’ federal tax returns, known as form 990s.
One of the charities is controlled by the Sekulow family — tax documents show that all four of CASE’s board members are Sekulows and another is an officer — an arrangement criticized by a nonprofit watchdog group.
The founder of a different Christian legal organization takes aim at the idea of Sekulow profiting in the name of religion, saying it isn’t what Jesus would do.
The American Center for Law and Justice’s tax attorney says the payments to the Sekulows and businesses they own or co-own are all made for the charities’ benefit and have passed an IRS audit. Sekulow’s supporters, including many in Middle Tennessee who have been helped or done business with him, say he is a humble man dedicated to the Christian cause.
Among the payments since 1998:
$15.4 million to the Constitutional Litigation and Advocacy Group, a law firm co-owned by Jay Sekulow. According to the 2009 tax form, he owns 50 percent of CLAG. The firm was known as the Center for Law and Justice when it received some of the payments.
$5.7 million to Gary Sekulow, Jay Sekulow’s brother. He is paid for two full-time jobs — as CFO of both the American Center for Law and Justice, or ACLJ, and Christian Advocates Serving Evangelism, or CASE. In 2009, his combined compensation topped $600,000.
$2.74 million in private jet lease payments to Regency Productions, a company owned by Jay Sekulow, and PFMS, a company owned by his sister-in-law, Kim Sekulow.
$1.78 million to Regency Productions for leasing office space and media production.
$1.11 million to PFMS for administrative and media buying services.
$1.6 million to Pam Sekulow, Jay Sekulow’s wife, including a $245,000 loan from CASE, which she used to purchase a home from the charity. The balance of the loan was later forgiven over several years and reported on the 990s as income.
$681,911 to Jay Sekulow’s sons, Logan and Jordan, for media work and other duties at CASE.
Members of the Sekulow family declined requests for interviews. John Hoover, a Washington, D.C.-based tax attorney with Dow Lohnes who advises ACLJ, responded to written questions from The Tennessean.
“The arrangements between ACLJ, CASE, and companies of which Jay Sekulow has an ownership interest are on terms and conditions more advantageous than the organizations could obtain otherwise,” he wrote.
But Daniel Borochoff, president of the American Institute of Philanthropy, a charity watchdog group, said there’s a problem when a charity’s board is dominated by family members.
Nonprofit board members are supposed to be independent and look out for the best interests of donors. That’s nearly impossible with so many family members on a board, he said, after reviewing three years of CASE and ACLJ tax returns.
“Are they going to operate in the best interest of the family or the best interest of the charity or the public?” he said. “They are only human.”
John Whitehead, founder of the conservative Rutherford Institute, a Christian civil rights charity founded in 1982, was more blunt about Sekulow, whose work he has followed for years.
When Christian charities become successful, he said, they can lose sight of the ethics of their faith, which include handling money with care. Six-figure salaries and perks like a private jet clash with Christian ideals about charity.
“If you read the New Testament, the founder of Christianity said, ‘I have no place to lay my head,’ ” Whitehead said. “I am aghast at modern evangelism and the money.”
The IRS requires nonprofits to disclose the compensation of their leaders.
Whitehead earned $162,452 in fiscal year 2009, according to Rutherford’s tax return. Alan Sears, head of the Alliance Defense Fund, a Christian legal group that took in $35 million that year, earned $368,833 in total compensation. Anthony Romero, executive director of the American Civil Liberties Union, made $350,232.
But a donor to ACLJ wouldn’t know how much Sekulow is earning from his work with the organization, even though he is described as CEO, chief counsel and board member on its tax forms. ACLJ reports that Sekulow has taken no salary since 2002.
However, ACLJ’s 2009 tax form shows it paid $2,382,770 to the law firm 50 percent owned by Sekulow — Constitutional Litigation and Advocacy Group. The fact that the law firm is half-owned by Sekulow is not found in ACLJ’s tax filings. Hoover confirmed that the law firm pays Sekulow, but the firm does not disclose how much Sekulow is paid. The firm’s office address is in a building owned by CASE.
In addition, Sekulow was paid $85,747 by CASE in fiscal year 2009.
'Very small' income
In a phone call, Ronn Torossian, a public relations executive serving as ACLJ’s spokesman, portrayed Sekulow as a great lawyer getting by on modest pay.
“You are asking about one of the most successful lawyers in the country whose income is very small and owns a very small home,” he said.
Property records show Jay and Pam Sekulow own three homes, including one they bought in 2008 in Franklin for $655,000 and another in Norfolk, Va., bought in 2005 for $690,000. Their third home, which once belonged to CASE, is in Waynesville, N.C., and is assessed at $262,800, according to Haywood County, N.C., tax records.
Sekulow’s supporters say they believe he acts with integrity in his business and personal dealings. They describe him as a humble and generous man who is dedicated to serving God. Darren Tyler, pastor of Conduit Church in Thompson’s Station, said he was aware Sekulow runs two nonprofits.
Tyler’s church meets at Independence High School, a right it indirectly owes to Sekulow. In 1993, Sekulow won a case — one of nine he’s won at the Supreme Court level — called Lamb’s Chapel v. Center Moriches School District. The ruling allowed churches more access to rent space at schools.
Along with the church, Tyler also leads a small nonprofit that works in Haiti. He said that Sekulow interviewed him on air several times after the Haitian earthquake in 2010, raising thousands of dollars to rebuild homes in that impoverished country. Sekulow also donated to the rebuilding, Tyler said.
“That’s the Jay Sekulow I know,” he said.
Sekulows helped ill boy
Kim LaRocca of Spring Hill met the Sekulows at Conduit Church in July 2010, after she and her family moved back to Tennessee from Florida. Their young son Matthew was ill with a brain tumor that would eventually kill him at age 12.
On their first Sunday at church, they got an envelope with gifts cards totaling about $150 from an anonymous donor.
In December of 2010, LaRocca got an email from Pam Sekulow. She offered to pass Matthew’s information to Ben Carson, the director of pediatric neurosurgery at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore.
LaRocca agreed and, within a few days, Carson had called them. He helped arrange for Matthew to be treated at Johns Hopkins. The Sekulows paid the airfare and expenses for their first visit. Jay Sekulow also interviewed the LaRoccas on his radio show, and fans of the show donated enough funds to pay the family’s expenses while Matthew was treated at Johns Hopkins.
“Our son loved them,” she said. “Those are the people we know.”
Joe Davis of Franklin also supports the Sekulows and their charities.
Davis is a retired veteran of the Christian radio business and senior adviser to Salem Communications, a major Christian radio broadcast company with 95 radio stations nationwide, many of which carry Sekulow’s program. He often did business with CASE and the Sekulows.
“I’ve met most of the family members who are employees, and I would hire them, too,” he said. “They’re good.”
2 charities, 1 name
Sekulow was running CASE before he became involved in ACLJ in the 1990s. Today both charities operate under the name American Center for Law and Justice. When supporters send donations to ACLJ, the funds actually go to CASE, which handles the fundraising for both groups, tax records show.
In 2009, the last year a tax return is available, CASE collected $43,783,317 in revenue. Of that, about 25 percent, or $11,060,000, was then transferred to ACLJ to fund its legal work. About 21 percent funded media work such as Sekulow’s radio show, and 27 percent went to educational programs and sending out nearly 10 million pieces of mail to ACLJ members.
Borochoff worries that donors will search for details about ACLJ’s finances and find only the tax returns for that group, not CASE, so they won’t get full details of how their donations are spent. Many of the transactions that benefit members of the Sekulow family are disclosed on the CASE returns, but not the ACLJ’s.
“People should know where their money is going,” he said.
The ACLJ website does include a notice at the bottom of the page saying that CASE does business as the ACLJ. Torossian, the spokesman, said all donors get a receipt that makes clear that the funds went to CASE.
Hoover, the tax attorney, explained why the charities use the same name:
“ACLJ and CASE operate in furtherance of the same educational, charitable, and religious purposes, and to avoid confusion, CASE operates by doing business as ACLJ under a registered d/b/a name,” Hoover wrote.
Borochoff said it’s obvious that the Sekulows are talented and very effective attorneys. He’d like to see them change the way that CASE and ACLJ operate, so that questions about their business practices don’t interfere with their mission.
In his eyes, that involves merging CASE and ACLJ and adding more non-family members to the organization’s board of directors.
“They need to operate more seriously as an organization,” he said.
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Related
ACLJ suits don't focus on First Amendment
Sep. 4, 2011
http://www.tennessean.com/article/20110904/NEWS01/110904008
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Copyright © 2011 www.tennessean.com
http://www.tennessean.com/article/20110904/NEWS/308200072 [with comments]
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How a Jewish Lawyer from Brooklyn Came to Believe in Jesus
by Jay Sekulow
January 1, 2005
I came to the courtroom early, before the proceedings began. The podium was adjustable, right? I lowered it. I'm five feet, seven and a half inches tall and the last thing I needed was to be standing up on the tips of my toes to reach the podium! When I came back later, for the proceedings, I looked in the back row and there, sitting all together, were my good friends, Moishe Rosen (founder of Jews for Jesus, and at the time, executive director), Tuvya Zaretsky, Susan Perlman and Russ Reed (three of Jews for Jesus' board members), plus my wife, my parents, and a lady from the Los Angeles Board of Airport Commissioners who accidentally sat in the wrong row! The thing that struck me was, when I looked back at the "Christian row" my parents were right in there. Whatever their feelings may be about my beliefs, they were there to support me. And I felt God's presence in that courtroom.
I wasn't too nervous until a couple of weeks before the trial, at which time I became pretty tense. I mean, for a while there, I was physically sick. I knew I was not the best. I don't generally lack confidence, but this was definitely the "big leagues." Despite all the commercial success I'd achieved as a lawyer, I knew that in the Supreme Court of the United States, I was basically just a kid. At age 30, I had to get special permission to defend the case. Yet, by the time I walked into the courtroom I felt great. I should have been a nervous wreck but I wasn't. People were praying for me and God came through.
The stairs I had to climb to get into that courtroom seemed like they were made for giants. And it felt like 14 flights, though I'm sure that's an exaggeration. I signed in with the clerk of the court, who, if I were Catholic, I would say he ought to be canonized. His job, in addition to the paperwork, is to create an air of friendliness which helps soothe last minute jitters. He tells you how it's going to be fun, you're going to enjoy it; everybody looks great--he helps everyone relax.
Next, I met the Marshal, who was decked out in a full-length tuxedo. Once the clerk helps the participants to relax, the Marshal underscores the formality of the whole procedure. He is the one who says "Oye, oye oye. The Supreme Court of the United States is now in session. All these gathered, draw nigh and speak your peace."
The room itself is awe inspiring. The ceilings in the Supreme Court of the United States are about 30-feet high, or at least they seem like it! They are painted very elaborately--lots of gold, with "Equal justice under the law" in big, fancy letters--and the most ostentatious Greco-Roman architecture imaginable. The justices come walking out in their big dark robes and slam down the gavel. I'm telling you my heart skipped a beat--it was very impressive. I was sitting about eight feet away from the justices, maybe ten. My opponent was just across a little podium from me; we were practically staring into each other's faces.
I knew God was present. It was clear. Even my parents, who don't believe like I do, said "the calmness was eerie." My wife (who does believe like I do) put it a little differently. She said she sensed the presence of the Spirit of God. My parents weren't sure what they sensed, but they knew it was something very much out of the ordinary.
The actual proceedings began with announcements of verdicts from previous cases. Then they started the day's docket. Our case was the first to be heard that day. I could hardly believe it when I heard them say, "Now we'll hear case #86-104: Board of Airport Commissioners et al. versus Jews for Jesus." While the justices were busy raking the opposing counsel over the coals, I was sitting with Barry Fisher (the civil rights attorney who assisted me) changing the strategy of our case. We saw where the judges were headed and we knew we'd have to reply to what was being said.
Half an hour later, I heard a voice call out, "Mr. Sekulow?" And I went up there. Me, a short Jewish guy from Brooklyn, New York, went before the justices of the Supreme Court of the United States to defend the constitutional right to stand in an airport and hand out tracts about Jesus!
I'd prepared my first sentence carefully, because I knew it might be my only opportunity to make a statement. I said: "Mr. Chief Justice, may it please the court, local governments have important interests to protect concerning the efficient operation of the airports under their jurisdiction; however, the facts in this case do not justify the repression of cherished first amendment freedoms based on a broad ban prohibiting all first amendment activities to take place." That's all I got to say. That was it. Because for the next half hour, they grilled me.
Justice Scalia and I got into a dialogue that reminded me of the teacher-student interactions from my days back in law school. He'd say "What if this and this?" and I'd have to answer him. There were times when I had to say, "Your honor, that's exactly what I did not say. You left out such and such." And so it went for the next thirty minutes of what was probably the most intense experience of my life.
I left the courtroom feeling like the Beatles must have felt leaving Shea Stadium. Or for those who might not know the Beatles, I felt like "Rocky" after the fight. If you don't know about Rocky, how about a prima ballerina after her first performance? Okay, so a ballerina I'm not, but I felt great! I knew God had brought me through that trial--and he'd brought me through much better than I'd dared to hope.
I had walked into the courtroom thinking about Jesus and how he overturned the moneychangers' tables at the Temple. Jesus was an activist; he stood up for what he knew was right. I drew strength from his example.
This case had already been decided in our favor by two lower circuit courts. The judges had ruled that people cannot be excluded from exercising first amendment rights in the airport.
I know it's a sidetrack, but the lawyer in me can't resist cautioning the reader against sympathizing too quickly with the airport commission, which is trying to restrict the distribution of religious literature. Whether or not one appreciates seeing individuals clad in "Jews for Jesus" T-shirts handing out literature at the airport is immaterial. If their rights of free speech are denied in the airport, who knows when and where you may eventually be denied your freedom of speech?
So now you know about my big day in the Supreme Court. And you've probably surmised that my interest in the case was from more than a purely legal perspective So how did a Jewish kid from New York get involved with Jesus? It happened like this....
I was born on June 10, 1956, in Brooklyn, but we moved to Long Island just after I was born and lived there until I was into my teens. My family attended a Reform synagogue in Long Island; it was not a fancy building, but I remember it had thick, plush drapes. It's funny, the things one remembers. I was very impressed with those drapes; I don't know, maybe because my friend's dad donated them. I liked Friday night services, which we attended about once a month, but Hebrew school, well, unfortunately, none of the kids in our class liked Hebrew school. We were not very well behaved. Sometimes I had the feeling the only reason the cantor didn't kick my friend and me out of the class (which he threatened to do) was because that was the friend whose dad donated the drapes!
"Religion" was not a big topic of discussion in our home. Sometimes my father referred to "The Supreme Being," but he usually reserved such references for the holidays. I didn't think much about God either. I do remember that when I was 13 years old, I'd exchange friendly insults with a Gentile friend of mine, a Catholic. We'd tease each other about our different backgrounds. We were never really serious about it, but I do remember wondering for a brief moment whether Shaun could possibly be right about Jesus. It seemed strange that such a thought would even enter my mind, but it left about as abruptly as it had come. I was pretty secure in my Jewish identity, which, as far as I knew included not believing in Jesus. Although we weren't "religious" we did many things to reinforce our culture and our heritage. I especially enjoyed the many Jewish celebrations: my bar mitzvah, for example.
That was a red letter day. Instead of my usual blue yarmulka with the white lining, I wore a white satin yarmulka with gold embroidery, and a tallis to match. Maybe my performance was leaning toward mediocre, but still, to be bar mitzvah signalled the end of Hebrew school and the thrill of "growing up."
Two years later, my family left New York and moved to Atlanta, Georgia. We joined a synagogue which I would describe as "very Reform." In contrast to our little Long Island synagogue, this one was quite elaborate. An ornate chandelier hung from the center of the beautiful domed ceiling; the ark was made of marble and gold, and we had gold velvet cushions on the seats to match.
As with the synagogue, our new home was also fancier than what we had in Long Island. It was a traditional two-story colonial brick house. Even with all the extra space, we still ended up congregating in the kitchen. It wasn't just for meals, although you'd better believe, my mother makes a great meat loaf. The kitchen was also the place for my parents, my two brothers, my sister and me to shmues and enjoy each other's company.
My high school grades were pretty much like my bar mitzvah Torah reading--mediocre. It wasn't dull wits or laziness, just a short supply of motivation. I actually enjoyed hard work. In fact, I went out and got a job just as soon as I could. By the time I was 17 years old, I was a night manager at a large department store called "Richway." I had my own set of keys and adult responsibilities. I always loved to work; it's just that I waited until college to start working at my grades.
My original plan was to attend a two-year college for some business education courses, and go straight back to work. After a short stint at the local junior college, I developed an appetite for learning and decided to enroll in a four-year school.
My desire to stay in Atlanta was probably the main reason I looked into Atlanta Baptist College (later known as Mercer University). I visited the school and found the friendly, small campus atmosphere appealing. To add to the appeal, the campus was only a five-minute drive from our house! "Dad," I asked, "Will it bother you if I go to a school that calls itself a Baptist college?" But my Dad is a pragmatic man.
"Baptist-shmaptist," he told me. "I'm glad you decided on a four-year college. Go ahead, get yourself a good education."
I enrolled in Atlanta Baptist College with a competitive determination to outstudy and outsmart "all the Christians." I did well in my pre-law studies, and attacked the mandatory Bible classes with a cynical confidence, certain that it would not be difficult to disprove "their" idea that Jesus was the Messiah.
I met a guy named Glenn Borders, whom I immediately labelled a "Jesus freak." Glenn took his religion seriously. There could be no doubt of that; he wore a big wooden cross around his neck! I knew of Jewish people who wore a rather large "chai" but I'd never seen anything the size of Glenn's cross. Despite his outward appearance, Glenn turned out to be a "regular guy." When we talked, I forgot about the big wood cross--maybe because Glenn wasn't trying to shove it down my throat. It turned out that Glenn played college sports, was active in the student government association, and he even managed to find time to be a good student. Glenn was the kind of person who was there to help if you needed him. He was a good friend. It was partly due to our friendship that my competitive attitude toward the Bible courses I was taking changed to an attitude of genuine curiosity.
Glenn suggested I read Isaiah 53. My mind was boggled by the description of the "suffering servant" who sounded so much like Jesus. I had to be misreading the text. I realized with relief that I was reading from a "King James" Bible, and after all, that's a "Christian" translation. So the first thing I said to Glenn after I read it was "Okay, now give me a real Bible." I grabbed the Jewish text, but the description seemed just as clear. Even though this caught my attention, I wasn't too worried. It still sounded like Jesus in the "Jewish Bible," but there had to be a logical explanation.
I began to research the passage and I started to look for rabbinic interpretations. That's when I began to worry. If I read the passage once, I'm sure I read it 500 times. I looked for as many traditional Jewish interpretations as I could find. A number of them, especially the earlier ones, described the text as a messianic prophecy. Other interpretations claimed the suffering servant was Isaiah himself, or even the nation of Israel, but those explanations were an embarrassment to me. The details in the text obviously don't add up to the prophet Isaiah or the nation of Israel. Did I ask the rabbis? No, I didn't ask the rabbis. I read what the rabbis had written over the years, beginning with ancient times, but frankly, I hadn't been too impressed with anyone I'd met lately. My last impression of what to expect from the Jewish religious establishment had been in a service where, when somebody sneezed the rabbi said, "God bless you." Then he said, "What am I saying? I don't believe in God."
I kept looking for a traditional Jewish explanation that would satisfy, but found none. The only plausible explanation seemed to be Jesus. My Christian friends were suggesting other passages for me to read, such as Daniel 9. As I read, my suspicion that Jesus might really be the Messiah was confirmed. That decision however, was strictly intellectual. I'd been struggling to resolve this question for about a year, and I was glad to have finally arrived at a decision.
How did I feel about believing that Jesus was the Messiah? Actually, I was half relieved. Once I'd gotten past the point of not wanting to know, once I took out my paper and pencil and began my lists of why Jesus was the Messiah on one side and why he wasn't on the other--I realized something. I had never felt the need for a Messiah before, but now that I was studying the prophecies and reading about what the Messiah was supposed to do, it sounded pretty good. I'd always thought my cultural Judaism was sufficient, but in the course of studying about the Messiah who would die as a sin bearer, I realized that I needed a Messiah to do that for me. When I concluded that Jesus was that Messiah, I was grateful. It didn't occur to me that I needed to do anything about it.
A few days later, one of my Christian friends invited me to hear Jews for Jesus' singing group, The Liberated Wailing Wall. You have no idea what a relief it was to see other Jews who believed that Jesus is the Messiah. Their presentation of "Jewish gospel music" and some of the things they said helped me realize that if I really believed in Jesus, I needed to make a commitment to him. At the end of the program, they sang a song called "I Am Not Ashamed of the Gospel" and they invited people who wanted to commit their life to Jesus to come up the aisle to meet with them at the front of the church. I responded to that invitation. It was February, 1976.
I wasn't concerned about how my parents would respond. It didn't enter my mind that they might be upset. After all, Jesus was a Jew. I knew that much. I didn't see what the big deal would be about my believing he was the Jewish Messiah. He was Jewish, I was Jewish, I didn't see that there was any reason for us not to believe in him.
As I walked up the aisle in response to the invitation, I got my first hint that Jews who believe in Jesus are sometimes ostracized by family and friends. A lady I'd never met said, "If you get kicked out of your home tonight, you can stay with us." I had a very good relationship with my parents. I didn't smoke, drink, use dope--I didn't give them grief and we were always very close. Did this lady know something that I didn't?
As it turned out, my parents did not react the way I know that some families of Jewish believers have. But after what this woman had said, frankly, I was a little scared. I wasn't prepared for that kind of a reaction, so I decided I wouldn't say anything at first; I'd wait a while. But my relationship with my parents was such that I just couldn't do that. I could not keep such a major decision from them. I tried, but I really couldn't. I got home at about 11 p.m. and went to sleep. I woke up at about two o'clock in the morning. I couldn't go back to sleep, so what did I do? I went and woke my father. I told him I'd decided Jesus was our Messiah. His response was, "You decided?" And of course, he was implying, "Who are you to decide?" but he didn't elaborate. He just shook his head sleepily and said, "We'll talk about it in the morning."
Well, morning came, and he didn't say a word about it. Neither did I. My parents knew I believed in Jesus; they knew I was getting literature from Jews for Jesus because I was living at home and they saw it. In fact, I know they read some of it out of curiosity. Sometimes I'd find it in the "reading room" (the bathroom)--not in the trash--just out where it was obvious that my dad had been looking over it. Since I was living under their roof, I felt if they didn't want to discuss it, I should leave well enough alone. Our relationship didn't change and I have always been grateful that whatever my parents might think of my beliefs, they love and respect me enough to prevent any disagreement from tearing us apart.
It wasn't until three years later that my parents and I actually discussed the subject of Jesus. I was in law school at Mercer at the time. Jews for Jesus ran a gospel statement in the Macon paper, "The Messiah has come and his name is Y'shua." My parents either came across the ad, or I showed it to them; I don't remember which. We discussed it; they didn't agree, but they were never hostile. They knew I was still Jewish; they knew I hadn't undergone any drastic personality changes--I wasn't involved with some strange cult.
I got married in 1978 on my birthday, June 10. I had just completed my first year of law school. I went on to graduate from law school in the top 5% of my class. I began my career at law as a tax prosecutor for the IRS. It was the best experience I could have had. In one sense it's a miserable job; prosecuting people for fraud and tax evasion never won anybody a popularity contest. I even had a few death threats from time to time. What made it worthwhile was the fact that I was trying as many as twelve cases per week. It was phenomenal. That kind of experience can really launch a person into a terrific career--if the person wins their cases, which I did. I stayed with the IRS for about eighteen months, then my name came up for a transfer which I didn't want to take.
At that point, I figured, "If I'm going to set up private practice, now is the time to do it." So I rented space with a friend from law school. Our monthly overhead was about $1600. I thought that was a fortune! I didn't have a client, not one, but I did have some good contacts. In less than eight months, my firm was up to nine lawyers, two full- time CPAs and three para-legals. We were the fastest growing firm in Atlanta. How did we do it? We took on some pretty controversial cases and won. We were known as very tough litigators and we developed a rapport and a good client base. When people were in trouble, they went to Sekulow and Roth.
Stuart Roth and I could hardly believe that our clients were paying us these $25,000 and $35,000 retainers, and here we were just 26 years old. But despite the fact that we were very young, when clients walked out of our office, they knew we were taking care of them.
Both my family and business life were flourishing. My wife and I had a son. In addition to the law practice, I began a real estate development firm which grossed over $20 million after the first year.
I kept in touch with Jews for Jesus and became a member of their board of directors. Business continued to flourish and Pam and I had another son. Yet there was something else I wanted to do. I thought more and more about using my legal skills to serve God. In 1986 I became the Jews for Jesus General Legal Counsel. That is how I happened to be defending a case before the Supreme Court of the United States, as described at the beginning of my story.
Incidentally, the verdict on that case was unanimous. The decisions of the lower circuit courts were upheld, and the Supreme Court declared the airport's resolution to curtail first amendment rights unconstitutional. Since the trial is over, however, I can devote myself to C.A.S.E: Christian Advocates Serving Evangelism. That is what we've named the new organization which will be defending the legal rights of individuals and organizations who are telling the gospel--specifically in issues relating to access, as in parks, college campuses, street corners, and of course, airports. We will work with other groups to ensure that the access to first amendment rights remains protected. It's pretty scary to think that the day could come when people might be prohibited from expressing their beliefs in a public forum. The public, of course, has the right to refuse the literature. If people are annoyed that there are Jews (and others) who believe in Jesus, then so be it. But there are people who are looking for God, for answers to the question of how to know him. They need to hear the good news about the Messiah, and we must protect our right to tell them.
© Copyright 2005 Jews for Jesus
http://jewsforjesus.org/answers/lifestories/jay_sekulow
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The Utter Hypocrisy of the ACLJ
Posted on: July 15, 2010 9:31 AM, by Ed Brayton
The American Center for Law and Justice, Pat Robertson's answer to the ACLU, is displaying its total hypocrisy by jumping in to the fight to stop the opening of a mosque a few blocks from Ground Zero in Manhattan. And of course, the Worldnutdaily is promoting their work [ http://www.wnd.com/index.php?fa=PAGE.view&pageId=179037 ] on the issue.
The ACLJ is representing a firefighter who was one of the 9/11 responders, who waxes emotional about all his lost friends. But represents him in what, exactly? There can't possibly be any legitimate grounds for a lawsuit here. What law is being violated in opening the Islamic center? Here's what they're trying to get done:
The ACLJ attended a July 13 hearing before the Landmarks Preservation Commission, a New York City agency responsible for identifying and designating city landmarks. The commission has been asked to designate the current building near Ground Zero as a landmark.
But gee, they don't want every building around Ground Zero to be declared a landmark, only the one being used for something they don't like. They can't possibly make a serious legal argument here and they have to know that. They also have to know that they're being blatant hypocrites.
The ACLJ has for years fought for laws like the Religious Freedom Restoration Act to give exemptions to religious groups from zoning laws and other laws that might place a legal burden on those exercising their religion. But here is a religious organization using a building in full compliance with all local laws and regulations and they want that stopped. The difference, of course, is that they think the rules should only apply to others, not to Christians.
And they're making some truly idiotic arguments along the way:
But ACLJ Deputy Political Director Sam Nunberg told the commission, "It would be a travesty to permit this building to be removed. It would be like removing the sunken ships from Pearl Harbor in order to erect a memorial for the Japanese Kamikazes killed in the surprise attack of U.S. troops."
No, that's not analogous at all. A more accurate analogy would be the opening of a Japanese restaurant or cultural center in Hawaii -- of which there are many, by the way. But just as all Japanese were not kamikaze pilots, not all Muslims are suicide bombers and hijackers.
There are millions of law-abiding American citizens who are Muslim and their right to worship freely and build places of worship is protected to precisely the same degree that the rights of Christians to do the same are protected. So instead of rational argument, all they can offer is emotionalism:
He described a somber moment with two fellow firefighters, Terry Hatton and Chris Blackwell, in which he saw them for the last time.
"I gave them both hugs. Terry said to me, 'I love you, brother. It might be the last time I see you.' Then he went in the stairwell," Brown recalled. "Then Chris Blackwell looked at me and said, 'This isn't good, Tim.'
"That was the last I saw him also."
After the second plane struck, Brown was directed to Tower Two. He exited the building to gather an emergency medical services crew and re-entered the lobby.
"[W]e heard the roar above us," he said. "I know I never looked up. I don't think anybody ever looked up. But there was no question what it was. It was a very tremendous sound ... So we just turned and ran for our lives. Now it was the flight/fright thing, because everybody knew we were all going to die. ...
"Everything started blowing toward us that wasn't nailed down. You could not any longer run into the wind because you were getting pummeled by stuff. You couldn't see anybody to communicate.
"You couldn't hear anything. It was becoming our grave."
None of which has even the slightest bit to do with anything relevant to the opening of a mosque near the WTC. This simply isn't an argument. It couldn't possibly be one. Here's the closest thing this guy can offer to an argument:
Now he is speaking out against construction of the new Islamic mosque that plans to open its doors Sept. 11, 2011 - on the 10th anniversary of that fateful day.
"I don't understand the need to put it there," he said.
Who says you need to understand? I don't understand the need for yet another Starbucks anywhere in the country, but that doesn't mean I get to decide that they can't open anymore of them. The building is legally owned by a Muslim group and they are in compliance with all state and local laws for their proposed use of that building.
Anyone remember when conservatives used to love property rights? I don't recall anyone ever claiming they applied only to Christians. Until now, that is.
© 2010 ScienceBlogs LLC
http://scienceblogs.com/dispatches/2010/07/the_utter_hypocrisy_of_the_acl.php [with comments]
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much more at http://www.rightwingwatch.org/category/individuals/jay-sekulow
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Christian crusaders cash in
Jay Sekulow of American Center for Law and Justice has won nine cases at the Supreme Court level.
FILE / KRT
Logan Sekulow was paid for media work and other duties at CASE.
Sekulow's family, firm collect millions
Written by Bob Smietana | The Tennessean
4:16 AM, Sep. 4, 2011
Back in the 1980s, Jay Sekulow’s career was in shambles. His Atlanta-based law firm had failed, leaving him millions in debt and bankrupt.
Then he got a lifeline from a surprising source — the U.S. Supreme Court.
Sekulow’s client, San Franscisco-based Jews for Jesus, was locked in a legal dispute with commissioners at the Los Angeles airport. The group wanted to hand out religious literature there. Airport officials said no. Sekulow argued the commission’s actions violated the First Amendment.
The Supreme Court ruled 9-0 in Jews for Jesus’ favor [an obvious and correct decision a woodpecker, or a wood pecker, could and would have won], a victory that launched Sekulow’s new calling as a crusader for Christians who believed their legal rights were being threatened.
Sekulow’s story was chronicled in major newspapers.
For Sekulow, it was like being born again.
“I almost feel like God raised me back from the dead,” he told the Atlanta Journal Constitution in 1991. “It was a spiritual rebirth.”
Sekulow, a celebrity among conservative Christians, now sits as the principal officer of two closely related multimillion-dollar legal charities: Christian Advocates Serving Evangelism, which he founded in San Francisco, and the better-known American Center for Law and Justice, founded by Christian broadcaster Pat Robertson and based in Virginia Beach.
Jay Sekulow Live — a call-in radio show sometimes produced at the Sekulow Media Group studio in the Factory in Franklin — draws millions of listeners. He’s a regular commentator on Fox News and splits his time living between Franklin and the Washington, D.C., area. Attorneys from his two charities are suing to rescind national health-care reform and to block the proposed mosque near ground zero.
Along with its spiritual benefits, Sekulow’s new calling has come with significant financial benefits.
Since 1998, the two charities have paid out more than $33 million to members of Sekulow’s family and businesses they own or co-own, according to the charities’ federal tax returns, known as form 990s.
One of the charities is controlled by the Sekulow family — tax documents show that all four of CASE’s board members are Sekulows and another is an officer — an arrangement criticized by a nonprofit watchdog group.
The founder of a different Christian legal organization takes aim at the idea of Sekulow profiting in the name of religion, saying it isn’t what Jesus would do.
The American Center for Law and Justice’s tax attorney says the payments to the Sekulows and businesses they own or co-own are all made for the charities’ benefit and have passed an IRS audit. Sekulow’s supporters, including many in Middle Tennessee who have been helped or done business with him, say he is a humble man dedicated to the Christian cause.
Among the payments since 1998:
$15.4 million to the Constitutional Litigation and Advocacy Group, a law firm co-owned by Jay Sekulow. According to the 2009 tax form, he owns 50 percent of CLAG. The firm was known as the Center for Law and Justice when it received some of the payments.
$5.7 million to Gary Sekulow, Jay Sekulow’s brother. He is paid for two full-time jobs — as CFO of both the American Center for Law and Justice, or ACLJ, and Christian Advocates Serving Evangelism, or CASE. In 2009, his combined compensation topped $600,000.
$2.74 million in private jet lease payments to Regency Productions, a company owned by Jay Sekulow, and PFMS, a company owned by his sister-in-law, Kim Sekulow.
$1.78 million to Regency Productions for leasing office space and media production.
$1.11 million to PFMS for administrative and media buying services.
$1.6 million to Pam Sekulow, Jay Sekulow’s wife, including a $245,000 loan from CASE, which she used to purchase a home from the charity. The balance of the loan was later forgiven over several years and reported on the 990s as income.
$681,911 to Jay Sekulow’s sons, Logan and Jordan, for media work and other duties at CASE.
Members of the Sekulow family declined requests for interviews. John Hoover, a Washington, D.C.-based tax attorney with Dow Lohnes who advises ACLJ, responded to written questions from The Tennessean.
“The arrangements between ACLJ, CASE, and companies of which Jay Sekulow has an ownership interest are on terms and conditions more advantageous than the organizations could obtain otherwise,” he wrote.
But Daniel Borochoff, president of the American Institute of Philanthropy, a charity watchdog group, said there’s a problem when a charity’s board is dominated by family members.
Nonprofit board members are supposed to be independent and look out for the best interests of donors. That’s nearly impossible with so many family members on a board, he said, after reviewing three years of CASE and ACLJ tax returns.
“Are they going to operate in the best interest of the family or the best interest of the charity or the public?” he said. “They are only human.”
John Whitehead, founder of the conservative Rutherford Institute, a Christian civil rights charity founded in 1982, was more blunt about Sekulow, whose work he has followed for years.
When Christian charities become successful, he said, they can lose sight of the ethics of their faith, which include handling money with care. Six-figure salaries and perks like a private jet clash with Christian ideals about charity.
“If you read the New Testament, the founder of Christianity said, ‘I have no place to lay my head,’ ” Whitehead said. “I am aghast at modern evangelism and the money.”
The IRS requires nonprofits to disclose the compensation of their leaders.
Whitehead earned $162,452 in fiscal year 2009, according to Rutherford’s tax return. Alan Sears, head of the Alliance Defense Fund, a Christian legal group that took in $35 million that year, earned $368,833 in total compensation. Anthony Romero, executive director of the American Civil Liberties Union, made $350,232.
But a donor to ACLJ wouldn’t know how much Sekulow is earning from his work with the organization, even though he is described as CEO, chief counsel and board member on its tax forms. ACLJ reports that Sekulow has taken no salary since 2002.
However, ACLJ’s 2009 tax form shows it paid $2,382,770 to the law firm 50 percent owned by Sekulow — Constitutional Litigation and Advocacy Group. The fact that the law firm is half-owned by Sekulow is not found in ACLJ’s tax filings. Hoover confirmed that the law firm pays Sekulow, but the firm does not disclose how much Sekulow is paid. The firm’s office address is in a building owned by CASE.
In addition, Sekulow was paid $85,747 by CASE in fiscal year 2009.
'Very small' income
In a phone call, Ronn Torossian, a public relations executive serving as ACLJ’s spokesman, portrayed Sekulow as a great lawyer getting by on modest pay.
“You are asking about one of the most successful lawyers in the country whose income is very small and owns a very small home,” he said.
Property records show Jay and Pam Sekulow own three homes, including one they bought in 2008 in Franklin for $655,000 and another in Norfolk, Va., bought in 2005 for $690,000. Their third home, which once belonged to CASE, is in Waynesville, N.C., and is assessed at $262,800, according to Haywood County, N.C., tax records.
Sekulow’s supporters say they believe he acts with integrity in his business and personal dealings. They describe him as a humble and generous man who is dedicated to serving God. Darren Tyler, pastor of Conduit Church in Thompson’s Station, said he was aware Sekulow runs two nonprofits.
Tyler’s church meets at Independence High School, a right it indirectly owes to Sekulow. In 1993, Sekulow won a case — one of nine he’s won at the Supreme Court level — called Lamb’s Chapel v. Center Moriches School District. The ruling allowed churches more access to rent space at schools.
Along with the church, Tyler also leads a small nonprofit that works in Haiti. He said that Sekulow interviewed him on air several times after the Haitian earthquake in 2010, raising thousands of dollars to rebuild homes in that impoverished country. Sekulow also donated to the rebuilding, Tyler said.
“That’s the Jay Sekulow I know,” he said.
Sekulows helped ill boy
Kim LaRocca of Spring Hill met the Sekulows at Conduit Church in July 2010, after she and her family moved back to Tennessee from Florida. Their young son Matthew was ill with a brain tumor that would eventually kill him at age 12.
On their first Sunday at church, they got an envelope with gifts cards totaling about $150 from an anonymous donor.
In December of 2010, LaRocca got an email from Pam Sekulow. She offered to pass Matthew’s information to Ben Carson, the director of pediatric neurosurgery at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore.
LaRocca agreed and, within a few days, Carson had called them. He helped arrange for Matthew to be treated at Johns Hopkins. The Sekulows paid the airfare and expenses for their first visit. Jay Sekulow also interviewed the LaRoccas on his radio show, and fans of the show donated enough funds to pay the family’s expenses while Matthew was treated at Johns Hopkins.
“Our son loved them,” she said. “Those are the people we know.”
Joe Davis of Franklin also supports the Sekulows and their charities.
Davis is a retired veteran of the Christian radio business and senior adviser to Salem Communications, a major Christian radio broadcast company with 95 radio stations nationwide, many of which carry Sekulow’s program. He often did business with CASE and the Sekulows.
“I’ve met most of the family members who are employees, and I would hire them, too,” he said. “They’re good.”
2 charities, 1 name
Sekulow was running CASE before he became involved in ACLJ in the 1990s. Today both charities operate under the name American Center for Law and Justice. When supporters send donations to ACLJ, the funds actually go to CASE, which handles the fundraising for both groups, tax records show.
In 2009, the last year a tax return is available, CASE collected $43,783,317 in revenue. Of that, about 25 percent, or $11,060,000, was then transferred to ACLJ to fund its legal work. About 21 percent funded media work such as Sekulow’s radio show, and 27 percent went to educational programs and sending out nearly 10 million pieces of mail to ACLJ members.
Borochoff worries that donors will search for details about ACLJ’s finances and find only the tax returns for that group, not CASE, so they won’t get full details of how their donations are spent. Many of the transactions that benefit members of the Sekulow family are disclosed on the CASE returns, but not the ACLJ’s.
“People should know where their money is going,” he said.
The ACLJ website does include a notice at the bottom of the page saying that CASE does business as the ACLJ. Torossian, the spokesman, said all donors get a receipt that makes clear that the funds went to CASE.
Hoover, the tax attorney, explained why the charities use the same name:
“ACLJ and CASE operate in furtherance of the same educational, charitable, and religious purposes, and to avoid confusion, CASE operates by doing business as ACLJ under a registered d/b/a name,” Hoover wrote.
Borochoff said it’s obvious that the Sekulows are talented and very effective attorneys. He’d like to see them change the way that CASE and ACLJ operate, so that questions about their business practices don’t interfere with their mission.
In his eyes, that involves merging CASE and ACLJ and adding more non-family members to the organization’s board of directors.
“They need to operate more seriously as an organization,” he said.
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Related
ACLJ suits don't focus on First Amendment
Sep. 4, 2011
http://www.tennessean.com/article/20110904/NEWS01/110904008
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Copyright © 2011 www.tennessean.com
http://www.tennessean.com/article/20110904/NEWS/308200072 [with comments]
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How a Jewish Lawyer from Brooklyn Came to Believe in Jesus
by Jay Sekulow
January 1, 2005
I came to the courtroom early, before the proceedings began. The podium was adjustable, right? I lowered it. I'm five feet, seven and a half inches tall and the last thing I needed was to be standing up on the tips of my toes to reach the podium! When I came back later, for the proceedings, I looked in the back row and there, sitting all together, were my good friends, Moishe Rosen (founder of Jews for Jesus, and at the time, executive director), Tuvya Zaretsky, Susan Perlman and Russ Reed (three of Jews for Jesus' board members), plus my wife, my parents, and a lady from the Los Angeles Board of Airport Commissioners who accidentally sat in the wrong row! The thing that struck me was, when I looked back at the "Christian row" my parents were right in there. Whatever their feelings may be about my beliefs, they were there to support me. And I felt God's presence in that courtroom.
I wasn't too nervous until a couple of weeks before the trial, at which time I became pretty tense. I mean, for a while there, I was physically sick. I knew I was not the best. I don't generally lack confidence, but this was definitely the "big leagues." Despite all the commercial success I'd achieved as a lawyer, I knew that in the Supreme Court of the United States, I was basically just a kid. At age 30, I had to get special permission to defend the case. Yet, by the time I walked into the courtroom I felt great. I should have been a nervous wreck but I wasn't. People were praying for me and God came through.
The stairs I had to climb to get into that courtroom seemed like they were made for giants. And it felt like 14 flights, though I'm sure that's an exaggeration. I signed in with the clerk of the court, who, if I were Catholic, I would say he ought to be canonized. His job, in addition to the paperwork, is to create an air of friendliness which helps soothe last minute jitters. He tells you how it's going to be fun, you're going to enjoy it; everybody looks great--he helps everyone relax.
Next, I met the Marshal, who was decked out in a full-length tuxedo. Once the clerk helps the participants to relax, the Marshal underscores the formality of the whole procedure. He is the one who says "Oye, oye oye. The Supreme Court of the United States is now in session. All these gathered, draw nigh and speak your peace."
The room itself is awe inspiring. The ceilings in the Supreme Court of the United States are about 30-feet high, or at least they seem like it! They are painted very elaborately--lots of gold, with "Equal justice under the law" in big, fancy letters--and the most ostentatious Greco-Roman architecture imaginable. The justices come walking out in their big dark robes and slam down the gavel. I'm telling you my heart skipped a beat--it was very impressive. I was sitting about eight feet away from the justices, maybe ten. My opponent was just across a little podium from me; we were practically staring into each other's faces.
I knew God was present. It was clear. Even my parents, who don't believe like I do, said "the calmness was eerie." My wife (who does believe like I do) put it a little differently. She said she sensed the presence of the Spirit of God. My parents weren't sure what they sensed, but they knew it was something very much out of the ordinary.
The actual proceedings began with announcements of verdicts from previous cases. Then they started the day's docket. Our case was the first to be heard that day. I could hardly believe it when I heard them say, "Now we'll hear case #86-104: Board of Airport Commissioners et al. versus Jews for Jesus." While the justices were busy raking the opposing counsel over the coals, I was sitting with Barry Fisher (the civil rights attorney who assisted me) changing the strategy of our case. We saw where the judges were headed and we knew we'd have to reply to what was being said.
Half an hour later, I heard a voice call out, "Mr. Sekulow?" And I went up there. Me, a short Jewish guy from Brooklyn, New York, went before the justices of the Supreme Court of the United States to defend the constitutional right to stand in an airport and hand out tracts about Jesus!
I'd prepared my first sentence carefully, because I knew it might be my only opportunity to make a statement. I said: "Mr. Chief Justice, may it please the court, local governments have important interests to protect concerning the efficient operation of the airports under their jurisdiction; however, the facts in this case do not justify the repression of cherished first amendment freedoms based on a broad ban prohibiting all first amendment activities to take place." That's all I got to say. That was it. Because for the next half hour, they grilled me.
Justice Scalia and I got into a dialogue that reminded me of the teacher-student interactions from my days back in law school. He'd say "What if this and this?" and I'd have to answer him. There were times when I had to say, "Your honor, that's exactly what I did not say. You left out such and such." And so it went for the next thirty minutes of what was probably the most intense experience of my life.
I left the courtroom feeling like the Beatles must have felt leaving Shea Stadium. Or for those who might not know the Beatles, I felt like "Rocky" after the fight. If you don't know about Rocky, how about a prima ballerina after her first performance? Okay, so a ballerina I'm not, but I felt great! I knew God had brought me through that trial--and he'd brought me through much better than I'd dared to hope.
I had walked into the courtroom thinking about Jesus and how he overturned the moneychangers' tables at the Temple. Jesus was an activist; he stood up for what he knew was right. I drew strength from his example.
This case had already been decided in our favor by two lower circuit courts. The judges had ruled that people cannot be excluded from exercising first amendment rights in the airport.
I know it's a sidetrack, but the lawyer in me can't resist cautioning the reader against sympathizing too quickly with the airport commission, which is trying to restrict the distribution of religious literature. Whether or not one appreciates seeing individuals clad in "Jews for Jesus" T-shirts handing out literature at the airport is immaterial. If their rights of free speech are denied in the airport, who knows when and where you may eventually be denied your freedom of speech?
So now you know about my big day in the Supreme Court. And you've probably surmised that my interest in the case was from more than a purely legal perspective So how did a Jewish kid from New York get involved with Jesus? It happened like this....
I was born on June 10, 1956, in Brooklyn, but we moved to Long Island just after I was born and lived there until I was into my teens. My family attended a Reform synagogue in Long Island; it was not a fancy building, but I remember it had thick, plush drapes. It's funny, the things one remembers. I was very impressed with those drapes; I don't know, maybe because my friend's dad donated them. I liked Friday night services, which we attended about once a month, but Hebrew school, well, unfortunately, none of the kids in our class liked Hebrew school. We were not very well behaved. Sometimes I had the feeling the only reason the cantor didn't kick my friend and me out of the class (which he threatened to do) was because that was the friend whose dad donated the drapes!
"Religion" was not a big topic of discussion in our home. Sometimes my father referred to "The Supreme Being," but he usually reserved such references for the holidays. I didn't think much about God either. I do remember that when I was 13 years old, I'd exchange friendly insults with a Gentile friend of mine, a Catholic. We'd tease each other about our different backgrounds. We were never really serious about it, but I do remember wondering for a brief moment whether Shaun could possibly be right about Jesus. It seemed strange that such a thought would even enter my mind, but it left about as abruptly as it had come. I was pretty secure in my Jewish identity, which, as far as I knew included not believing in Jesus. Although we weren't "religious" we did many things to reinforce our culture and our heritage. I especially enjoyed the many Jewish celebrations: my bar mitzvah, for example.
That was a red letter day. Instead of my usual blue yarmulka with the white lining, I wore a white satin yarmulka with gold embroidery, and a tallis to match. Maybe my performance was leaning toward mediocre, but still, to be bar mitzvah signalled the end of Hebrew school and the thrill of "growing up."
Two years later, my family left New York and moved to Atlanta, Georgia. We joined a synagogue which I would describe as "very Reform." In contrast to our little Long Island synagogue, this one was quite elaborate. An ornate chandelier hung from the center of the beautiful domed ceiling; the ark was made of marble and gold, and we had gold velvet cushions on the seats to match.
As with the synagogue, our new home was also fancier than what we had in Long Island. It was a traditional two-story colonial brick house. Even with all the extra space, we still ended up congregating in the kitchen. It wasn't just for meals, although you'd better believe, my mother makes a great meat loaf. The kitchen was also the place for my parents, my two brothers, my sister and me to shmues and enjoy each other's company.
My high school grades were pretty much like my bar mitzvah Torah reading--mediocre. It wasn't dull wits or laziness, just a short supply of motivation. I actually enjoyed hard work. In fact, I went out and got a job just as soon as I could. By the time I was 17 years old, I was a night manager at a large department store called "Richway." I had my own set of keys and adult responsibilities. I always loved to work; it's just that I waited until college to start working at my grades.
My original plan was to attend a two-year college for some business education courses, and go straight back to work. After a short stint at the local junior college, I developed an appetite for learning and decided to enroll in a four-year school.
My desire to stay in Atlanta was probably the main reason I looked into Atlanta Baptist College (later known as Mercer University). I visited the school and found the friendly, small campus atmosphere appealing. To add to the appeal, the campus was only a five-minute drive from our house! "Dad," I asked, "Will it bother you if I go to a school that calls itself a Baptist college?" But my Dad is a pragmatic man.
"Baptist-shmaptist," he told me. "I'm glad you decided on a four-year college. Go ahead, get yourself a good education."
I enrolled in Atlanta Baptist College with a competitive determination to outstudy and outsmart "all the Christians." I did well in my pre-law studies, and attacked the mandatory Bible classes with a cynical confidence, certain that it would not be difficult to disprove "their" idea that Jesus was the Messiah.
I met a guy named Glenn Borders, whom I immediately labelled a "Jesus freak." Glenn took his religion seriously. There could be no doubt of that; he wore a big wooden cross around his neck! I knew of Jewish people who wore a rather large "chai" but I'd never seen anything the size of Glenn's cross. Despite his outward appearance, Glenn turned out to be a "regular guy." When we talked, I forgot about the big wood cross--maybe because Glenn wasn't trying to shove it down my throat. It turned out that Glenn played college sports, was active in the student government association, and he even managed to find time to be a good student. Glenn was the kind of person who was there to help if you needed him. He was a good friend. It was partly due to our friendship that my competitive attitude toward the Bible courses I was taking changed to an attitude of genuine curiosity.
Glenn suggested I read Isaiah 53. My mind was boggled by the description of the "suffering servant" who sounded so much like Jesus. I had to be misreading the text. I realized with relief that I was reading from a "King James" Bible, and after all, that's a "Christian" translation. So the first thing I said to Glenn after I read it was "Okay, now give me a real Bible." I grabbed the Jewish text, but the description seemed just as clear. Even though this caught my attention, I wasn't too worried. It still sounded like Jesus in the "Jewish Bible," but there had to be a logical explanation.
I began to research the passage and I started to look for rabbinic interpretations. That's when I began to worry. If I read the passage once, I'm sure I read it 500 times. I looked for as many traditional Jewish interpretations as I could find. A number of them, especially the earlier ones, described the text as a messianic prophecy. Other interpretations claimed the suffering servant was Isaiah himself, or even the nation of Israel, but those explanations were an embarrassment to me. The details in the text obviously don't add up to the prophet Isaiah or the nation of Israel. Did I ask the rabbis? No, I didn't ask the rabbis. I read what the rabbis had written over the years, beginning with ancient times, but frankly, I hadn't been too impressed with anyone I'd met lately. My last impression of what to expect from the Jewish religious establishment had been in a service where, when somebody sneezed the rabbi said, "God bless you." Then he said, "What am I saying? I don't believe in God."
I kept looking for a traditional Jewish explanation that would satisfy, but found none. The only plausible explanation seemed to be Jesus. My Christian friends were suggesting other passages for me to read, such as Daniel 9. As I read, my suspicion that Jesus might really be the Messiah was confirmed. That decision however, was strictly intellectual. I'd been struggling to resolve this question for about a year, and I was glad to have finally arrived at a decision.
How did I feel about believing that Jesus was the Messiah? Actually, I was half relieved. Once I'd gotten past the point of not wanting to know, once I took out my paper and pencil and began my lists of why Jesus was the Messiah on one side and why he wasn't on the other--I realized something. I had never felt the need for a Messiah before, but now that I was studying the prophecies and reading about what the Messiah was supposed to do, it sounded pretty good. I'd always thought my cultural Judaism was sufficient, but in the course of studying about the Messiah who would die as a sin bearer, I realized that I needed a Messiah to do that for me. When I concluded that Jesus was that Messiah, I was grateful. It didn't occur to me that I needed to do anything about it.
A few days later, one of my Christian friends invited me to hear Jews for Jesus' singing group, The Liberated Wailing Wall. You have no idea what a relief it was to see other Jews who believed that Jesus is the Messiah. Their presentation of "Jewish gospel music" and some of the things they said helped me realize that if I really believed in Jesus, I needed to make a commitment to him. At the end of the program, they sang a song called "I Am Not Ashamed of the Gospel" and they invited people who wanted to commit their life to Jesus to come up the aisle to meet with them at the front of the church. I responded to that invitation. It was February, 1976.
I wasn't concerned about how my parents would respond. It didn't enter my mind that they might be upset. After all, Jesus was a Jew. I knew that much. I didn't see what the big deal would be about my believing he was the Jewish Messiah. He was Jewish, I was Jewish, I didn't see that there was any reason for us not to believe in him.
As I walked up the aisle in response to the invitation, I got my first hint that Jews who believe in Jesus are sometimes ostracized by family and friends. A lady I'd never met said, "If you get kicked out of your home tonight, you can stay with us." I had a very good relationship with my parents. I didn't smoke, drink, use dope--I didn't give them grief and we were always very close. Did this lady know something that I didn't?
As it turned out, my parents did not react the way I know that some families of Jewish believers have. But after what this woman had said, frankly, I was a little scared. I wasn't prepared for that kind of a reaction, so I decided I wouldn't say anything at first; I'd wait a while. But my relationship with my parents was such that I just couldn't do that. I could not keep such a major decision from them. I tried, but I really couldn't. I got home at about 11 p.m. and went to sleep. I woke up at about two o'clock in the morning. I couldn't go back to sleep, so what did I do? I went and woke my father. I told him I'd decided Jesus was our Messiah. His response was, "You decided?" And of course, he was implying, "Who are you to decide?" but he didn't elaborate. He just shook his head sleepily and said, "We'll talk about it in the morning."
Well, morning came, and he didn't say a word about it. Neither did I. My parents knew I believed in Jesus; they knew I was getting literature from Jews for Jesus because I was living at home and they saw it. In fact, I know they read some of it out of curiosity. Sometimes I'd find it in the "reading room" (the bathroom)--not in the trash--just out where it was obvious that my dad had been looking over it. Since I was living under their roof, I felt if they didn't want to discuss it, I should leave well enough alone. Our relationship didn't change and I have always been grateful that whatever my parents might think of my beliefs, they love and respect me enough to prevent any disagreement from tearing us apart.
It wasn't until three years later that my parents and I actually discussed the subject of Jesus. I was in law school at Mercer at the time. Jews for Jesus ran a gospel statement in the Macon paper, "The Messiah has come and his name is Y'shua." My parents either came across the ad, or I showed it to them; I don't remember which. We discussed it; they didn't agree, but they were never hostile. They knew I was still Jewish; they knew I hadn't undergone any drastic personality changes--I wasn't involved with some strange cult.
I got married in 1978 on my birthday, June 10. I had just completed my first year of law school. I went on to graduate from law school in the top 5% of my class. I began my career at law as a tax prosecutor for the IRS. It was the best experience I could have had. In one sense it's a miserable job; prosecuting people for fraud and tax evasion never won anybody a popularity contest. I even had a few death threats from time to time. What made it worthwhile was the fact that I was trying as many as twelve cases per week. It was phenomenal. That kind of experience can really launch a person into a terrific career--if the person wins their cases, which I did. I stayed with the IRS for about eighteen months, then my name came up for a transfer which I didn't want to take.
At that point, I figured, "If I'm going to set up private practice, now is the time to do it." So I rented space with a friend from law school. Our monthly overhead was about $1600. I thought that was a fortune! I didn't have a client, not one, but I did have some good contacts. In less than eight months, my firm was up to nine lawyers, two full- time CPAs and three para-legals. We were the fastest growing firm in Atlanta. How did we do it? We took on some pretty controversial cases and won. We were known as very tough litigators and we developed a rapport and a good client base. When people were in trouble, they went to Sekulow and Roth.
Stuart Roth and I could hardly believe that our clients were paying us these $25,000 and $35,000 retainers, and here we were just 26 years old. But despite the fact that we were very young, when clients walked out of our office, they knew we were taking care of them.
Both my family and business life were flourishing. My wife and I had a son. In addition to the law practice, I began a real estate development firm which grossed over $20 million after the first year.
I kept in touch with Jews for Jesus and became a member of their board of directors. Business continued to flourish and Pam and I had another son. Yet there was something else I wanted to do. I thought more and more about using my legal skills to serve God. In 1986 I became the Jews for Jesus General Legal Counsel. That is how I happened to be defending a case before the Supreme Court of the United States, as described at the beginning of my story.
Incidentally, the verdict on that case was unanimous. The decisions of the lower circuit courts were upheld, and the Supreme Court declared the airport's resolution to curtail first amendment rights unconstitutional. Since the trial is over, however, I can devote myself to C.A.S.E: Christian Advocates Serving Evangelism. That is what we've named the new organization which will be defending the legal rights of individuals and organizations who are telling the gospel--specifically in issues relating to access, as in parks, college campuses, street corners, and of course, airports. We will work with other groups to ensure that the access to first amendment rights remains protected. It's pretty scary to think that the day could come when people might be prohibited from expressing their beliefs in a public forum. The public, of course, has the right to refuse the literature. If people are annoyed that there are Jews (and others) who believe in Jesus, then so be it. But there are people who are looking for God, for answers to the question of how to know him. They need to hear the good news about the Messiah, and we must protect our right to tell them.
© Copyright 2005 Jews for Jesus
http://jewsforjesus.org/answers/lifestories/jay_sekulow
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The Utter Hypocrisy of the ACLJ
Posted on: July 15, 2010 9:31 AM, by Ed Brayton
The American Center for Law and Justice, Pat Robertson's answer to the ACLU, is displaying its total hypocrisy by jumping in to the fight to stop the opening of a mosque a few blocks from Ground Zero in Manhattan. And of course, the Worldnutdaily is promoting their work [ http://www.wnd.com/index.php?fa=PAGE.view&pageId=179037 ] on the issue.
The ACLJ is representing a firefighter who was one of the 9/11 responders, who waxes emotional about all his lost friends. But represents him in what, exactly? There can't possibly be any legitimate grounds for a lawsuit here. What law is being violated in opening the Islamic center? Here's what they're trying to get done:
The ACLJ attended a July 13 hearing before the Landmarks Preservation Commission, a New York City agency responsible for identifying and designating city landmarks. The commission has been asked to designate the current building near Ground Zero as a landmark.
But gee, they don't want every building around Ground Zero to be declared a landmark, only the one being used for something they don't like. They can't possibly make a serious legal argument here and they have to know that. They also have to know that they're being blatant hypocrites.
The ACLJ has for years fought for laws like the Religious Freedom Restoration Act to give exemptions to religious groups from zoning laws and other laws that might place a legal burden on those exercising their religion. But here is a religious organization using a building in full compliance with all local laws and regulations and they want that stopped. The difference, of course, is that they think the rules should only apply to others, not to Christians.
And they're making some truly idiotic arguments along the way:
But ACLJ Deputy Political Director Sam Nunberg told the commission, "It would be a travesty to permit this building to be removed. It would be like removing the sunken ships from Pearl Harbor in order to erect a memorial for the Japanese Kamikazes killed in the surprise attack of U.S. troops."
No, that's not analogous at all. A more accurate analogy would be the opening of a Japanese restaurant or cultural center in Hawaii -- of which there are many, by the way. But just as all Japanese were not kamikaze pilots, not all Muslims are suicide bombers and hijackers.
There are millions of law-abiding American citizens who are Muslim and their right to worship freely and build places of worship is protected to precisely the same degree that the rights of Christians to do the same are protected. So instead of rational argument, all they can offer is emotionalism:
He described a somber moment with two fellow firefighters, Terry Hatton and Chris Blackwell, in which he saw them for the last time.
"I gave them both hugs. Terry said to me, 'I love you, brother. It might be the last time I see you.' Then he went in the stairwell," Brown recalled. "Then Chris Blackwell looked at me and said, 'This isn't good, Tim.'
"That was the last I saw him also."
After the second plane struck, Brown was directed to Tower Two. He exited the building to gather an emergency medical services crew and re-entered the lobby.
"[W]e heard the roar above us," he said. "I know I never looked up. I don't think anybody ever looked up. But there was no question what it was. It was a very tremendous sound ... So we just turned and ran for our lives. Now it was the flight/fright thing, because everybody knew we were all going to die. ...
"Everything started blowing toward us that wasn't nailed down. You could not any longer run into the wind because you were getting pummeled by stuff. You couldn't see anybody to communicate.
"You couldn't hear anything. It was becoming our grave."
None of which has even the slightest bit to do with anything relevant to the opening of a mosque near the WTC. This simply isn't an argument. It couldn't possibly be one. Here's the closest thing this guy can offer to an argument:
Now he is speaking out against construction of the new Islamic mosque that plans to open its doors Sept. 11, 2011 - on the 10th anniversary of that fateful day.
"I don't understand the need to put it there," he said.
Who says you need to understand? I don't understand the need for yet another Starbucks anywhere in the country, but that doesn't mean I get to decide that they can't open anymore of them. The building is legally owned by a Muslim group and they are in compliance with all state and local laws for their proposed use of that building.
Anyone remember when conservatives used to love property rights? I don't recall anyone ever claiming they applied only to Christians. Until now, that is.
© 2010 ScienceBlogs LLC
http://scienceblogs.com/dispatches/2010/07/the_utter_hypocrisy_of_the_acl.php [with comments]
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much more at http://www.rightwingwatch.org/category/individuals/jay-sekulow
Greensburg, KS - 5/4/07
"Eternal vigilance is the price of Liberty."
from John Philpot Curran, Speech
upon the Right of Election, 1790
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