YOUTH TRUTH
November, 2001
A Different
Kind of Turkey
As far as
individuals, families, towns, cities and country go, it’s been a difficult
couple of months. I know that you have
probably heard it all in regards to September 11. “Let it go” you say. I can’t and I won’t. Our world and our country will
never be the same. My children will not
grow up with the same freedoms that I had growing up. Maybe He will come again in our
lifetime.
On September 23, I had the
privilege and opportunity of taking Ben DeWitt (a Senior High student) into NYC. The intent was to minister. The result was life changing.
When we arrived in Penn Station
and onto 7th Avenue, I was expecting the “smell” that I heard so
much about. But I noted nothing out of
the ordinary smells of the city….exhaust fumes mingled with the stench of
urine, subway steam, hot pretzels and roasted nuts still had their grip!
First we headed downtown to go to
Nyack College Manhattan Campus (NCMC) (on Worth Street and Broadway). When we came up the subway stairs at City
Hall, on Park Row, the smell of the tragedy hit me in the face like a
dirty, used dishrag. All I could think
about was Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 2:16.
“The smell of death.” I’m sorry
that I’m using the verse is totally out of context, but that is all I could
think of. And all I kept muttering to
myself…..”It smells like death….it smells like death….Oh Jesus…..it smells like
death…it smells like death because that is what it is!!”
I used to work at Pace
University, right across the street from City Hall. I used to walk down Park Row almost every day
during lunch. But today, walking down
Park Row was like walking in a surreal nightmare. It was very ominous. The smell and the soot and the debris and the
people…..their silence was deafening.
Everything looked so gray. We
were able to get about 1 block from “Ground 0” looking in from Broadway. I couldn’t believe it. Words could not describe the sense of shock
and vulnerability!
The streets where familiar dual
shadows loomed were now well lit by the rays of unwelcome sunshine.
When we walked a few blocks up to
NCMC, we met up with people from 1st Alliance Church who were also
going out to minister. They gave Ben and
I a case of books by Luis Palau titled, “Where is God When Bad Things
Happen.” We were to give the books away
to people we thought would appreciate it.
Our plan was to go back down to
Ground 0 for one last look, before we headed up to Union Square Park on 14th
Street.
On the train back to NJ, I wrote
that I was speechless, shocked, and numb.
Here are the points I pondered in regards to “Ground 0”:
·
The “smell
of death” is eternally singed in my nose.
Indescribable smell…literally.
·
The absolute
horror of the distance that the billowing smoke rolled. The fear people must have had for blocks
beyond the towers. Dust and debris
seemed endless but lasted for at least 5 blocks in either direction, but mostly
north and east.
·
The people
who were there to see the destruction and the horrified and shocked look on
their faces as they gazed at “Ground O” and the surrounding area.
·
As Ben and I
were circling around to go back to the subway, we headed uptown on Nassau
Street. There was an art gallery/frame
shop. It seemed like it was one of the
only stores opened for business. A
vertical picture of the World Trade Center caught my eye and I went in. When I went in, it was obvious that the
proprietor was from the Middle East. The hurt and shattered look on his face
spoke volumes. When I asked how he was really
doing, he said, "not so good…" He was from Turkey and he told me
that people weren't treating him very nicely.
It was obvious that he couldn’t speak English too well. So I gave him a copy of the book and bought a
copy of the WTC poster. I told him to
read the book and that God would speak to him.
His countenance changed and he was so appreciative….appreciative of the
fact that I didn’t profile him.
The Different Kind of Turkey!
Later that
week, (on Friday, the 28th) I had the opportunity to take 3 other
youth pastors into the city to show them around. After looking at the devastation, one kept
stuttering, “It’s…It’s….It’s….” I
finished his derailed train of thought exclaiming, “It’s not a
movie anymore!” My friend replied,
“Yeah, that’s it…it’s real!”
As the 3
pastors and I walked back up Nassau Street, I knew I had to go visit my new
friend (I won’t even attempt at trying to spell his name!) from Turkey in the
art gallery. As soon as he saw me, he
lit up. I asked if he read the book, he
said no, couldn’t read English. Then he
said that his brother had been reading it and translating it for him! He said that they both never heard about God
that way! I then gave him a booklet titled
“Your Most Important Relationship.” It’s
a gospel presentation. He said he would
have his brother read and explain it to him.
As I’m trying to review the booklet with him, his brother walks in. I said, “Oh, is he the one reading the
book?” “No, other brother read book,” he
replied. So, my friend introduces me to
this yet another brother. As I shook his
hand I told him that I was going to pray for them and especially their
business. Tears welled up in the
brother’s eyes and he quietly said, “thank you.” My friend just smiled. When I came out of the store, the same
“stuttering” youth pastor (who was eavesdropping in the front of the store!)
said he couldn’t believe the reactions of these two Turkish men. He was amazed at how softened they were just
by someone caring.
Lesson
learned? Don’t profile. Love with
Christ’s love.
Thank you Jesus for Your unconditional love that crosses all boundaries in this country and abroad!
REV 5:9 And
they (the elders) sang a new song: "You( Jesus) are worthy to take the
scroll and to open its seals, because you were slain, and with your blood
you purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation.
