In the early years of the last century, Maximilian Rossvally was born of an Orthodox Jewish home in Germany. One of fourteen children, Max grew up in a wealthy and cultured environment. Religion was of the highest import. From childhood, Rosvally wore the phylacteries, and prayed each day facing the east. He attended a yeshiva (a Hebrew school), and aspired to the office of Rabbi. But during his university years, he found another calling: medicine. This provided him with prestige and a comfortable income. But he wanted more. Adventure was lacking in his life.

So he added some, moving to America in his early middle years. The District of Colombia became his home, and soon he became one of the leading members of its Jewish community. He was a gifted musician and singer, and often sang in the Synagogue to an appreciative audience.

The Civil War broke out in 1861, and Dr. Rossvally joined the union army. There he treated hundreds of wounded and dying soldier. Most died as they had lived: "without God and without hope in the world". The battle of Gettysburg was the bloodiest epoch in American history. Over 50,000 men fell in three day's fighting. One of whom--hardly a man at all--was Charlie Coulson, a 17 year-old drummer, from Brooklyn, New York.

Confederate fire had hit him in the right arm and leg, leaving him immobile on the field, and nearly dead. About him, Dr. Rossvally said, "When I found (him) on the battlefield (he) was so far gone that I thought it hardly worth while to pick (him) up. But when (you) opened those large blue eyes, I thought you had a mother somewhere who might at that moment be thinking of her boy. I did not want (him) to die on the field..."

He was taken to the make-shift hospital to have his arm and leg amputated. But when the nurse tried to administer the chloroform (as an anesthetic), the wounded boy refused. The doctor was called. He urged Charlie to take the offered relief; spoke of the intense pain it would reduce; described the dangers of refusing it. The young man replied: "Doctor, one Sunday afternoon in the Sunday school, when I was nine-and-a-half years old, I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior. I learned to trust Him then, and I know I can trust Him now. He is my strength and my stay; He will support me when you amputate my arm and leg".

The doctor then offered him brandy to ease the pain. But again, Charlie stuck to his principles. "Doctor, when I was five years old my mother knelt by my side with her arm around my neck and said `Charlie, I am now praying to the Lord Jesus that you may never know the taste of strong drink. Your father died a drunkard and went down to a drunkard's grave...I am seventeen years old, but I have never tasted anything stronger than coffee and tea, and as I am, in all probability, to go into the presence of my God, would you send me there smelling of brandy?"

Dr. Rossvally was reluctant to perform the surgery. By Charlie was insistent. "Now, doctor, I am ready, and I promise you that I will not even groan while you take off my arm and my leg if you will not offer me chloroform.

The physician trembled at the young man's courage. So impressed was he, that he went to his office to brace himself with a good stiff drink. He returned, took up his instrument, and proceeded to saw off Charlie Coulson's arm and leg. He would later write, "While cutting through the flesh, he never groaned, but when I took the saw to separate the bone lad too the corner of his pillow in his mouth, and all that I could hear him utter was `O Jesus, blessed Jesus, stand by me now!' He kept his promise and never groaned."

The sight of that boy; the ringing of those words, unnerved Dr. Rossvally. So much so that he couldn't sleep that night. At last, he went back to the hospital only to learn that sixteen patients had died that night. "Is Charlie Coulson among the dead?" he asked. "No sir. He is sleeping as sweetly as a babe".

Several hours later, the doctor was making his rounds, and looked to Charlie's bunk, only to see it surrounded by other Christians. The chaplain and some men from the Y.M.C.A. had come to see their wounded friend. They prayed with him (as you might expect) and sang hymns. Heard in that tiny choir was the high-pitched, sweet voice of Charlie Coulson. That day--for perhaps the first time in his life--Dr. Rossvally heard the name "Jesus" used in a sacred way,

"Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to Thy bosom fly."

Rossvally was shaken. Five days later, Charlie Coulson called for him. "Doctor, you are a Jew and do not believe in Jesus; will you please stand here and see me die, trusting my Savior to the last moment of my life?"

The doctor could not stay. He later wrote, "I tried to stay, but could not, for I had not the courage to stand by and see a Christian boy die rejoicing in the love of that Jesus whom I had been taught to hate."

A few minutes later, Charlie called for the doctor again. He hesitated to come; but duty prevailed at last. He saw the boy's life slipping away, and bending down to hear his dying words, he was surprised to hear these: "Doctor, I love you because you are a Jew: the best friend I have found in this world is a Jew". "Who is that?" Rosvally asked.

"Jesus Christ, to whom I want to introduce you before I die. And will you promise me, Doctor, that what I am about to say to you, you will never forget?" He obliged the dying patient.

"Five days ago, while you amputated my arm and leg, I prayed to the Lord Jesus Christ to save your soul."

A few minutes later, Charlie Coulson was no more. But his words lingered; haunted the doctor...for ten long years.

About 1873, Dr. Rossvally, still an army physician, relocated to Galveston, Texas. There, he went to the barber for a shave. The barber was a Christian who hung framed Scripture verses in his shop. As he lathered up the doctor's face, he began talking to him about Christ. His conversation was attractive and full of joy. Rossvally listened intently, but answered not a word. After the shave, the doctor asked for a haircut. The barber continued his praise of Christ. Wanting to hear more (but embarrassed to say so), Max Rossvally then asked for a shampoo. Finally, the barber could do no more. He did, however, offer to walk Rossvally to the train depot. While doing so, he asked the doctor if he could have a business card. "Why?" Rossvally asked. "Because I want to pray for you every day for the next three months". The card was handed over.

Dr. Rossvally closed the conversation, though, on this dismal note: "There is not much danger of my ever becoming a Christian".

He boarded a train, heading northeast to Washington D.C. The trip home was torture for the good doctor. He described it as "sitting between two fires"--the testimony of Charlie Coulson on one side, the witness of the Christian barber on the other. When he arrived, he picked up a newspaper and saw this headline: REVIVAL SERVICE AT DR. RANKIN'S CHURCH. It went on to add that a well-known evangelist would be speaking, and the city's best choir singing each night. Being a devout music lover. Dr. Rossvally talked himself into entering a Christian church for the first time in his life.

The usher seated him in the front row. The preacher mounted the pulpit and began a long and powerful sermon. The doctor was uncomfortable; the preacher--he thought--knew he was there and had prepared a sermon just for him. But, being a cultured man, he was too polite to leave in the middle of the service. When the benediction was pronounced, though, Dr. Rossvally made record time for the door.

As he was crossing the threshold, he felt a tug on his coat. Perhaps it had gotten caught in the door, he thought. But it was not the door holding him back, but a old Christian woman, named Mrs. Young. She said, "Pardon me, stranger. I have been watching you all this evening, and I beg of you not to leave this house, for I think you are under conviction of sin. I believe you came here to seek the Savior, and you have not found Him yet. Do come back; I would like to talk to you, and if you will permit me, I will pray for you".

"Madam, I am a Jew" was the curt answer she received. But not easily deterred, she replied, "I do not care if you are a Jew; Jesus Christ died for Jew as well as Gentile".

Mrs. Young continued: "Will you pray to Jesus before you sleep tonight?" "I will pray to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but not to Jesus!"

"Bless you--she answered--"your God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is my Christ and your Messiah".

Dr. Rossvally went home deeply troubled. When asked where he had been, he told his wife (who was ultra-orthodox), "Wife, please do not ask me any questions. I have some very important business to attend to. I wish to go to my private study where I can be alone".

He went to his study, locked the door, and--for the first time in his life--knelt to pray (this is an abomination to the Jews). "O LORD God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Thou knowest that I am sincere in this thing. If Jesus Christ is the Son of God, reveal Him to me this night, and I will accept Him as my Messiah". His phylacteries (the symbol of his Jewish devotion) were thrown down as verses of Scripture came to mind.

These Scriptures were accepted (by Jew and Christian alike) as Messianic prophecies. Yet, Dr. Rossvally reasoned, we think they are unfulfilled. The Christians think otherwise. Did Jesus come of the Tribe of Judah? Was He born in Bethlehem? Was He conceived in a virgin womb? The Holy Spirit answered. Yes He was. Rossvally wrote, "It began to dawn on me that Jesus Christ was really the true Messiah".

His mind turned next to Isaiah 53 and to Zechariah 12. He began to "look upon Him whom they have pierced" and to understand that "with His stripes we are healed".

Dr. Maximilian Rossvally, devout Jew, became "a new creature in Jesus Christ".

Overcome with love for a crucified Savior and filled with "a joy unspeakable and full of glory", Rossvally hurried to his bedroom, woke up his wife, and told her the good news. A sick look came over her face; without saying a word, he dressed, packed her bags, gathered the two children, and left her husband. She would not receive his visits; burned his letter; and refused to call him "husband". She (and her parents) threatened to disinherit, excommunicate, and curse the children if they dared call him "father".

But the doctor interceded on their behalf. For fifty-three consecutive days, he wrote his wife letter; in each there was a Gospel message, along with assurances of his love for her and the children. But she consigned them all to the flames.

But one morning, the daughter went out to meet the postman at the door and smuggled a letter into her bedroom. She opened it, read it with tears, and boldly went to her mother. "I have opened my papa's letter this morning, and now I cannot and will not believe what my grandpa and grandma or anybody else says about my papa being a bad man, for a bad man could not write such a letter to his wife and children. I beg of you to read this, mother."

The letter was taken and locked in a desk. The daughter was dismissed. The mother got behind closed doors and opened the forbidden epistle. Five times she read that letter--and swooned.

Another doctor was sent for, who prescribed a cure. But it did no good. Her mother cared for her late into the night. But finally, she went home. And then--for the first time in her life--Mrs. Rossvally knelt to pray, and "found Him of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets did write, Jesus of Nazareth". A telegram was dispatched: "Dear Husband--come home at once".

He did; and in the interim found that his daughter, too, had come to Christ. His son, however, remained hardened against the Savior.

Eighteen months later, Mrs. Rossvally lay dying. She called for the ladies of the church to come to her home. And, around her bed, they sang a familiar tune,

"Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to Thy bosom fly."

Her last words were, "Yes, He is all I want; He is all I have. Come Lord Jesus, take me home". He did.

Shortly after her death, the grieving husband received a letter from home, from his mother in Germany. He hoped it would console him in his loss. It read:

These were the last words he heard from his mother; though some time later, he learned that her last word was his name, "Max".

Dr. Rossvally's son had moved to Germany and consented to the curse that his mother had sent. Yet his father faithfully wrote to him, imploring him to "Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world". For fourteen years, he heard not a word from his son.

But then, Dr. Rossvally received a letter from Germany asking if he might visit his mother's grave. He encouraged it, of course. The younger Rossvally came back to America, and, with his sister, paid tribute to their mother.

Later, though, he came back to the grave alone; knelt down to pray--and paid tribute to his mother's Savior. Dr. Rossvally had John's joy, "to see his children walking in truth".

Some time later, Rossvally visited a church in Brooklyn where a testimony service was being conducted. A old lady stood up to praise Christ: "Dear friends, this may be the last time it is my privilege to testify for Christ. My family physician told me yesterday that my right lung is very nearly gone and my left lung is very much affected, so at the best I have but a short time to be with you, but what is left of me belongs to Jesus! Oh! It is a great joy to know that I will meet my boy in heaven. My son was not only a soldier for his country, but a soldier for Christ. He was wounded at Gettysburg, and fell into the hands of a Jewish doctor who amputated his arm and leg, but he died five days after the operation. The chaplain of the regiment wrote me a letter and sent my boy's Bible. In that letter I was informed that Charlie in his dying hour sent for that Jewish doctor and said to him, `Doctor, before I die I wish to tell you that five days ago, while you amputated my arm and leg, I prayed to the Lord Jesus to save your soul".

The lady sat down. Dr. Rossvally stood up and said, "God bless you my dear sister; your boy's prayer has been heard and answered. I am the Jewish doctor for whom your Charlie prayed, and his Savior is my Savior".

A surge of spiritual electricity went through that room. Dr. Rossvally wrote a verse in memory of it,

"And there among the saved at last,

Forever blest and glad,

The mother dear and doctor saved,

Shall meet that drummer lad".

Dr. Rossvally quit his medical practice and opened a Mission for the conversion of his kinsmen. He also took preaching tours through the ghettos of Europe. Many were won to Christ through his ministry. His son, too, entered the ministry, and--like his father--became a highly successful evangelist to the Jews.

After serving Christ faithfully for several years, Dr. Rossvally was called to the higher service of heaven. He died in October, 1892, "full of years"--and good works.